Travelling across Europe on a bicycle has proved a lot more straightforward than travelling across Europe with a bicycle.
Some time ago I had worked out a train route home that suited me well, taking me from Constanta to Brasov where I would catch a direct train to Budapest. From Budapest I would head to Berlin, Berlin to Paris and then across to one of the southerly channel ports to get to the south coast of Britain; which one I would decide at the time depending on French train and ferry timings. The biggest constraint of course was my bicycle.
Going north to Berlin might seem a rather convoluted route to take me westwards but it was a route that maximised speed, minimised changes and cost and - with the exception of the trips to Brasov and from Paris - allowed me to book both myself and my bicycle onto trains using on-line rail links. A couple of late arrivals followed by small-hours departures also helped maintain the momentum of the trip home. At least that was the plan.
I was not too concerned about being unable to tie down my route from Paris ahead of time; at that point I would be within striking distance of home with the major hurdles of my journey crossed. But getting to Brasov was another matter. In Romania you have to buy a ticket for both you and your bicycle and trains that will carry bicycles can be identified on-line by a bike icon. The problem I had was that despite the large number of trains to Brasov, none had the elusive bicycle icon. In fact I could find no trains leaving Constanta for any destination that were designated as bicycle carrying. I had read a report of an officious Romanian conductor threatening to remove bike and passenger off a train which was concerning, but I had also seen blogs where others had travelled back with no mention of a problem. And I had certainly not seen a refugee camp of marooned EV6 cyclists on my route into Constanta. Nevertheless, this was the issue niggling away inside my head that I needed to resolve.
The day I arrived at Constanta I headed to the station to get my tickets and hopefully put the matter to bed. At the domestic counter the assistant initially said there were no bike carrying trains but she then sold me a ticket telling me I would have to buy the bike ticket on the train. The standard cost is €5 but I was told it 'might cost more than that'. It all sounded suspiciously like a 'bung' to the conductor would be taking place which put no more certainty on my plans than I had before. Nevertheless, I optimistically went to the international counter and bought my onward ticket to Budapest, crossing my fingers that I would get to use it. But I refrained from booking any later connections until I was sure I was on my way.
I headed out at 4am Tuesday morning to cycle the dark and silent streets to the station with only a cooling sea breeze for company and not a soul in sight. As it turned out my near six hour train ride to Brasov proved pretty uneventful. A kindly conductor pointed me to the front carriage with my bike, charged me €20 (coincidentally the same price as my ticket) and gave me a receipt so it all seemed above board albeit a little pricey. It leaves me none the wiser as to Romanian policy with regard to carrying bicycles though.
That journey, or at least the early part before it got dark and I got tired, took me through the countryside of Transylvania. It was a landscape of rolling green, of rivers and valleys and woodland covered hillsides. There were white washed and red roofed villages and pastures of wild flowers with cloud topped hills sitting in the distance. It was probably some of the most beautiful countryside I have seen in the last nine weeks, made more so because of the expansive views from the train.
It was 8pm and getting dark when we crossed the border into Hungary (interestingly they checked passports either side) after which the train ride became noticeably smoother and noticeably faster. Nevertheless, it was not until 11pm that I stepped off at Keleti station in Budapest over a month after leaving the city first time around. I had just over seven hours before having to be at Nyugati Station a couple of miles away for my train to Berlin. I had originally planned to get one for 2am to maintain the flow of the journey but what was practicable a few days ago was now proving problematic to actually book; it was to be a common theme that the route options I had identified a while ago were now - as I got closer to my travel date - often more limited with poorer timings or more changes, often unpriced and not now possible to book on-line. That said, the later train to Berlin that I had managed to book was direct with no changes, an option I had not found in my earlier searches.
For the stopover in Budapest I had toyed with whether to get a hotel or not for what would amount to about six hours sleep. In the end I had booked one but when I turned up there at near midnight, having walked the quiet back streets of Budapest in order to stretch my legs properly after 16 hours on a train, I found that despite the enthusiastic confirmation email from the on-line booking company, the hotel itself was full and had been well before I had made my 'reservation'. Maybe the universe was trying to tell me something, especially as a cursory look showed other hotels in the immediate area to be prohibitively expensive for the short stay I would have. In the end I spent those potential six hours of sleep dozing in the station, walking through the city to a scenic bridge I had cycled over on my route in, finding a 3am eatery open for some well needed food and carrying out useful but non essential tasks on the bicycle. At 6.30am I loaded bike and body onto the train for the 9 hour trip to Berlin and dropped off to sleep.
I woke to views of the Danube and nearby villages from the high point of the train and shortly after we stopped at Sturovo and then Szob, two names familiar to me from the day on which I had cycled to Budapest nearly a month ago. Compared to my train to Budapest, this one is more as I imagined an international train to be: modern, spacious and, of particular benefit to me, a large area for storing bikes. There is also a proper restaurant car with waiter service, menus and cooked food, tablecloths and decent cutlery. I whiled away an hour or so there watching Eastern Europe rush past my window while enjoying a beer and good food at a very reasonable price.
I arrived in Berlin early evening from where I had originally planned to head to Paris but had fallen foul of the issue where the routes from only a few days ago had become hard to pin down. So now I was heading to Rotterdam on an overnight train with three changes; but it was cheap, got me to a ferry and maintained the continuity of my journey. With four hours to kill I made the most of the bright summer evening and cycled around Berlin's main sights on very peaceful roads, a result of restrictions in place for the European Football Championships starting in Germany the following day. It was then back to the train station, an interesting conversation with a guy handing out the excess rolls from his sandwich shop to late night travellers, and then the continuation of my journey.
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