Eastern Europe
On 20th July 2005, I set out on a journey to the edge of Asia. My motorcycle ride would take me 9000 miles from Cumbria to Istanbul and back.
France | The Netherlands | Belgium | Germany | Poland | Slovakia | Hungary | Romania | Bulgaria | Turkey | Austria | Switzerland | France.
Nick Foulerton | Rebecca Young | Simon Albert.
20th July – 16th August 2005
I crossed from Harwich to the Hook of Holland and rode to Fallingbostel, a sleepy town north of Hanover, where my regiment is quartered. Here I picked up my companion for the outward leg; Simon Albert.
We left in torrential rain and eventually pitched camp neat the East German town of Katlen. We followed the meandering Elbe south past towering cathedrals, castles and cliffs to the Industrial sprawl of Dresden.
Once in Poland, we travelled east thought the market towns of Silesia with their crumbing Prussian country houses, before crossing the Tatra Mountains into Slovakia. From the stark peaks of the Tatras’, we rode though the vast Beech forests of Slovakia and across the abundant plains of the Tisza valley in Hungary.
"At Curtea de Arges we passed below the ruins of Vlad the Impalers castle, perched high above the town."
In western Romania we bounced along the woodland tracks of the Apusenic hills, entering the medieval town of Sibu with its imposing ramparts. We climbed rapidly up onto the snow capped Carpathian Mountains, before plunging into the depths of the Arges valley. At Curtea de Arges we passed below the ruins of Vlad the Impalers castle, perched high above the town. It was here that he famously escaped capture by putting his horse’s shoes on backwards and galloping north into the safety of the Carpathians.
On 29th July, we arrived in Istanbul and exchanged Simon for Rebecca. We crossed the Sea of Marmara by boat and arrived in the dusty of Bendirma, before heading south to Bergama and the impressive temple of Trajan. From Bergama we followed the turquoise Mediterranean up through the ruins of Assos and Troy, before crossing the Dandanelles into the Gallipoli peninsula.
We spent two days in this enchanting but eerie reminder of one of the British Empire’s worst military disasters.
After leaving Turkey we heading north to Bucharest and into Romania, which was hit by the worst storms in a decade as we camped on the floodplains of Ialomita. We later learnt that 34 people were killed that night.
"It was then a torturous climb back over what can only be described as a footpath"
Moving west, I was determined to drive along the 60 mile Lupeni to Caransebes pass, which crosses the western extremity of the Carpathians. After two failed attempts, we got within a few miles of completing the track, before finding the road washed away. It was a torturous climb back over what can only be described as a footpath.
Budapest’s spires set themselves resplendent over the Danube and the five star hotel left us somewhat more comfortable after a week on the road.
We headed west, through Salzburg and then south over the biker’s heaven, the Knocker pass, into Italy. Crossing into Switzerland, we stopped in St. Moritz, the place where we met and the home of the Cresta Run, the place where we met and something I hold close to my heart.
The home run took us through the Swiss Lakes and the Ardennes, before returning to England.
Maps
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