I ride again in Serbia
End of the morning, I arrived at the border of Serbia. There is a queue. I am pleased to pass all the cars to go to show my ID. The first time after crossing 5 countries. There is still a bicycle path, I am going to the next little town to have lunch under trees in the center. I don’t take the time to take some Serbian money and keep going. I was thinking I will be more clever than my app Komoot and I took a shortcut. It saved me around 10km. But the road I can see on the map is a gravel/sandy road… 15km under the sun, shaken and at the end, not very quick.That will teach me. I forgot the stray dogs as well. My hot water doesn’t quench my thirst, so I stop at a village bar. I ask if he takes credit cards since I don’t have any cash, no. I think he can read the disappointment on my face (and the sweat) and offers me a sprite! This fresh and sweet drink has even more flavor. I still have a few kilometers left, I’ve decided to go to Kikinda. I think the only reason is because of the name of the city that I find funny and for once easy to remember. And then 80km is more than enough for me today. But no camping in the area. Well this time I’m going to withdraw Serbian dinars, I’m still going to consider paying for my drinks! I find an ATM in the city center. I know that wild camping is allowed in Serbia, but I would like to find a safe place. Since I don’t really know where, the best thing is to ask a local. I see a guy sitting in front of his shop for a cigarette break. Phew, he speaks English. I sat down with him, after pointing me to the north of the city for a quiet place for the night, we chatted a little. Gradually, he offers me some fruit and then water. On the cheek, I ask him if he doesn’t have a garden where I can pitch my tent. Srdjan, his first name (pronounced Sergian) tells me no worries, I just have to wait for him to finish his day, he works as an optician, and finishes at 8pm. That gives me time to wander around the small center of Kikinda. He lives 15 minutes by bike from the center, perfect, I followed him. He lives with his father, in his grandmother’s old house, which he extended. I meet Yvan, his dad. He doesn’t speak English, but is incredibly kind despite the difficulty of communicating between the two of us. I get to know Srdjan better, he has also traveled a lot, especially on cruise ships where he worked for 10 years. I think he dreams of going abroad again but for the moment, he is taking care of his dad who has just had an operation.
A weekend in Kikinda
The next day, the day couldn’t have started better: as promised the day before, Yvan went to buy us burek for breakfast! I was dreaming of it, here is my very first burek with cheese of the trip! I had (intentionally) forgotten the amount of fat, but it’s still just as good. And Srdjan offered me to stay the weekend for a barbecue with his friends. That was all it took to encourage me to give up my bike for a few days. A little rest to better set off again. 3 days in Kikinda. That gives me time to send a box to France with my warm clothes that I won’t need anymore in 35°. Luckily Srdjan helps me at the counter of the Serbian Post, because it seems very complicated… after 2 hours of going and returning, I made it. While Srdjan works, I rest at his place, in the shade on the terrace. And on the weekend, it’s time for barbecues. First on Saturday at Igor and Milja’s home who kindly invited me. We meet them early on Sunday morning, and together we spend the day near the Tisza River, the same one I followed in Hungary. Igor’s parents have a caravan all year round in a campsite for locals – mainly for grandpa/grandma! I am the object of curiosities of the day! I meet the neighbors, I taste all the possible specialties of Serbia (in one day, I think I ate enough for the week!): Sarma (traditional Serbian dish, fermented cabbage stuffed with meat and rice), barbecue with bread covered in butter and spices and grilled on the barbecue (common in Serbia), rakija of course… We swim on the “Serbian Riviera”, a dirt beach. All accompanied by Serbian music that everyone, except me, sings! Superb atmosphere.
A day in Romania
After this beautiful Serbian weekend with great encounters, I hit the road refreshed and ready to face the kilometers! Kikinda is not far from the Romanian border. And to avoid going to Belgrade, already seen, I cross the border to go and discover Romania for a day. A day under the sign of the stork that I could see everywhere in the villages, perched in their nests on the electricity poles. But also under the sign of the rain: I got caught in a nice downpour, enough to get soaked!! Fortunately, a burek under a bus shelter cheers me up, I stay zen. I aim for a river near Jaša Tomić, in Serbia, for a wild camping – still no camping around here. Jaša Tomić is the first village once the border with Serbia is crossed again. Looking for a place to sleep, I find a quiet place, with a table and bench. Perfect. I come across a grandpa. Not speaking English, I mime, tent/sleep/here? He shakes “no” his head at me. Okay… but he invited me to have a juice. The place is really perfect, I insist. He tells me ok. Great. I don’t waste any time, I go swimming, wash myself and do my laundry as best I can in the river while trying not to get mud everywhere. He left, leaving me some bread, tomatoes, onions if necessary. I start to settle in, prepare my evening meal when another car arrives. This time a man and his son. It’s the grandpa’s nephew. He speaks a little English, and we manage to have a chat. Before leaving, he offers me some blackberries, too kind. We get eaten by mosquitoes, it’s time to put up the tent, wash the dishes in the river and brush my teeth. But barely had the dishes started, I heard women’s voices. I go back up and find 3 young women near my tent. The youngest, Tatijana, explains to me that the grandpa came to tell them that a young girl (me) was sleeping on his land. They came to see if everything was okay, brought me biscuits. And finally I pack everything up and follow them on foot to their house. I am invited to Tatijana and her mother Tamara’s house accompanied by their neighbor across the street, Mirjana. They offer me a second Serbian dinner, I am full but I enjoy sharing this moment with them. We get to know each other before I fall asleep around midnight. I will not pitch my tent, Tatijana lets me have her room!
Beautiful women meeting
I thought I would hit the road the next day but finally, after sharing a huge breakfast/brunch of eggs, Serbian cold cuts, cheese and bread all accompanied by a glass of yogurt, it was already quite late to hit the road. And then I feel really good with the three of them, happy for once to be surrounded by women. I met up with the grandpa from the day before, the opportunity to share a glass of rakija. He became my grandpa because in his youth he met a French woman when he was in Croatia for his military service. Who knows?!
Mirjana’s father works for the sports department of the Jaša Tomić town hall, he offers me the diploma of “the first woman to cycle from Lyon to Turkey via Jaša Tomić”!! And for the occasion, we take pictures, Mirjana interviews me (it’s my first interview!! I’m stressed!). She wrote an article that appeared on the city’s website and also in the Serbian newspaper Novosti. I am so honored! I feel like a star for a day! I was able to spend time with each of them, allowing me to learn more about their personal stories. I go from one house to another. And to end this beautiful day, we go for an evening walk in the streets of Jaša Tomić that Tatijana introduces me to in English.
Riding quicker than the thunderstorm
As always when my path crosses paths with great people, it is not easy to leave. But I have a deadline! So after learning how to cook a Gibanica (a bit like burek but less fatty) with Mirjana, I take off. I am accompanied by bike by Tamara until the exit of the city before flying on my own. It is dark and threatening, but I have a long way to go today. There is a campsite near the lakes of Bela Crkva, 100km, my goal for the day. I did not leave early, I do not hang around. Following the advice of my Serbian Grandpa, I take the small roads, avoiding the traffic and passing through the small villages. The storms are still behind me, I move forward quite quickly. I take the shortest route to arrive as quickly as possible, the end of the road is closed by a gate. Phew there is a hole in the fence, I finish by carrying the bike. Happy to have arrived, especially since it starts to rain. So I wait a little before pitching my tent, enjoy the wifi (I don’t have internet, Serbia is not in the European Union). Although the campsite is a little noisy, fatigue takes over very quickly.
Hello again Donau
Especially since the next morning, I set the alarm (well, just in case, because I always wake up at 6am with the sun). I have 9 km of cycling to do to catch the 7:30am ferry from Stara Palanka (otherwise I have to wait until 10:30am). It’s more like a boat, with a system that I had never seen, a boat that changes direction along the boat by staying attached to the front but turning at the back. I’m not sure you understand my explanations but I found that it was different from the other ferries. Here I am crossing the Danube to find the Eurovelo 6. This part is really the most beautiful that I have been able to do along this river. Romania on the other side, I ride through Serbian villages. I take a break to visit the Golubac fortress. Dating from the 14th century, it is ideally located at the entrance to the Iron Gates, the nickname of the Danube Gorges that I am about to discover. Here I am in the Djerdap National Park. It is magnificent. I have all the more time to enjoy the view as the difference in altitude is starting to be felt. I had not used my small chainring for so long, I had almost forgotten its existence. The road is littered with many small tunnels (about twenty) and none with lighting. I have not recharged my rear lamp… I clench my fingers and buttocks, fortunately there are not too many cars. A guy stops, Dejan, gives me a peach and some cakes. He gives me his phone number, he is on holiday in Negotin in his family home, it is on my route but not today. Tonight I am going to one of the rare campsites on my way. Well, you have to climb 2 km but it’s worth it because from up there, the view is splendid. I can enjoy a sunset on the Danube and spend the evening with Simon, a German also traveling by bike. He is on his way back after going to Georgia, I can see that he is no longer in the same mood. I see myself 2 years ago, I felt the same thing once I reached my goal. The passion for travel is no longer the same. On the contrary, I am very excited.
126 km : fingers in the nose
The next day, after breakfast with the morning lights on the Danube (no sunrise, I’m not that early…), I can hit the road. As Simon told me that the day before he had started in Negotin, out of pride for myself, I tell myself that I can do it too, in the other direction. I contacted Dejan to ask him if I could pitch my tent tonight in his garden. 125km await me. I’ve never done so much with my luggage (well even without my luggage I don’t pedal as much…). The first 50 kilometres go by very quickly, I have the wind at my back, I stop for photos, put on music, enjoy the view. I’m very happy to be on this side of the Danube, in Romania there are traffic jams and lots of trucks. The next 50 are not so funny, I change direction, I no longer have the wind at my back. It’s starting to get hot. The last 26 kilometers are an ordeal. On the one hand because the Eurovelo makes me go through small paths where the shrubs have not been cut, I eat brambles… 10 horrible km, I go back on the main road. And there I tell myself that I should have gone to the campsite. This man who I thought was nice, quickly makes me feel very uncomfortable. My freedom takes a hit. While I have about ten kilometers left to get to his house, I see him coming in the opposite direction by car. What is he doing there??? I don’t understand, is he doing the broom wagon in front of me?? He thinks that I don’t know how to use a GPS and that I’m going by gut feeling to Turkey? I already regret my choice when I’m not even at his house. I had hoped that there would be other members of his family, but no he is all alone. As soon as we arrive he takes my bike from me, and almost drops it because he is surprised by its weight (my poor bike). I see myself in exactly the same situation as 2 years ago in Serbia. At a man’s house, who tells me what to do. I feel so bad, but it’s not so easy to run away. He doesn’t speak English well, and I almost get yelled at when I don’t understand what he’s saying. Afterwards he remains very nice, offers me food, fish, I can take a shower and despite my wish to sleep in my tent, I have no choice but to sleep in the room (believe me I insisted). At the table he makes comments that I don’t like at all, those of a man who wants to control women. He admits to me that he doesn’t understand my parents, that he, whether it’s his wife or his daughter, would never let them do what I do. After listening to his patriarchal speech, I am treated to a speech that tends a little towards racism towards Bulgarians. “Be careful with them, they are not like us, they are not as good as the Serbs”…. It is not worth listening to him anymore. Between my physical fatigue – because of him I did not even take the time to congratulate myself, as if 126km was not much after all – and my mental fatigue, I no longer have the courage to discuss. Tonight is the opening ceremony of the Olympics. I watched for 10 minutes sitting in this living room from the 80s. But the Serbian comments have finished me off, I do not understand anything, I go to bed.
I managed to sleep well, even though I wasn’t 100% reassured, and I was super hot (I would have slept so much better in my tent). I can’t wait to have lunch and leave. He insists that I stay for a day, he would like to show me around the area. I understand above all that he is alone and that my company enchants him (without any pretension!!) but it’s too stupid, I have a Turkish wedding in less than a month! So it’s time for me to continue, and do the remaining 10km to cross the Bulgarian border!!
So yes, my time in Serbia is not ending in the best possible way. But that doesn’t affect all the great times spent previously, the great encounters and the beautiful Serbian landscapes. I have to have some hassles or inconvenient moments to appreciate all the others. I put things into perspective very quickly, happy to regain my freedom lost for an evening. Happy to discover a new country, and to go and meet the Bulgarians and contradict all these preconceptions heard the day before by Dejan.
