Riding the Eurovelo 6 had been a lot of fun at times, even if I often made up my own routes. Deciding which bits to include and which to leave out had introduced a much more adventurous take on just riding the river towpaths. Of course Hungary had changed all that, you have no choice but to strike out on your own and so it was with much relief I finally left behind the Eurovelo at the little town of Solt. While the Danube continued on it’s way South, I headed South East for the town of Mako and the Romanian border.
It has however been a major struggle, as I have never ridden in such poor conditions for so many days and weeks. There came a point where I made a conscious decision not to keep waiting for the rain to abate, but to just ride on. The reason was pretty simple, I was losing too much time and the rain wasn’t stopping anyway. It’s been very demoralising though, not being able to dry out makes starting another day something I now dread, rather than something to be enjoyed.
But back to the route and I was fairly pleased with myself for finding a way that involved decent roads without too much traffic. Someone will have to explain to me one day though why the Hungarians have a cycle path for many, many kilometers and then it just ends at a ‘no cycles’ sign. Are you supposed to just turn around and go back the way you’ve come? Well apart from a few horn blasts I rode on oblivious anyway!
When the rain wasn’t falling, I was always on the look out for something to take a picture of and I found a few ‘distractions’ along my chosen way.
Having seen a sign for a 56 Museum I was intrigued enough to stop and investigate. To my (very pleasant) surprise it was a military museum and it’s center piece was this wonderful tank. Now I’m not going to tell you what it is – here you go Tim, give us a guess? no Googling!
Even my lunch stop provided a welcome distraction. I ate my sandwiches in a quiet little village next to a statue of Petőfi Sándor, a Hungarian poet and liberal revolutionary. He is considered Hungary’s national poet, and was one of the key figures of the Hungarian Revolution of 1848. He is the author of the Nemzeti dal (National Poem), which is said to have inspired the revolution in the Kingdom of Hungary that grew into a war for independence from the Austrian Empire. He died aged just 26.
Oh how quickly things can change. As I neared the end of my time in Hungary and arrived at Szeged, a mere 20 km from Romania, the rain returned. My plan had been to cross into Romania today, but with what I had left of Hungarian currency I booked into a cabin at a campsite in Mako and I’m attempting to dry things out.
I’ll leave Romania until the morning…