˝You'll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a Slump.

And when you're in a Slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted.  But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out?  Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...˝


Well, fearless readers, it has now been about 2 weeks since that fateful night on the train.  When last we wrote, Will and I were gung-ho about hiking in Slovenia.  We hopped on a train with only the shoes on our feet and our lives in our packs and found ourselves in Ljubjlana, the capital of Slovenia.  This is when we realized that we know absolutely nothing about Slovenia.


Slovenia is a beautiful country.  Wonderful people; more mountains, trees, and crystal-clear lakes than you could ever want.  Slovenia is also extremely expensive when you are on a dirtbag cycle-tourists budget  (and yes, i do know there should be a possessive apostrophe right there, but these keyboards are a bit weird and I have not yet managed to find that particular punctuation mark).  The real killer for us?  You cannot camp in Europe.  Real camping, that is-- they have plenty of huge compounds with showers and restaurants and live music in the evening, with hundreds of your fellow travelers near and dear to your tent.


What followed was what I call our ˝sadding˝ period.  We went for a few day hikes, but we couldnt afford to stay in the mountain huts that were required for doing anything longer.  Essentially, we sat around and felt sorry for ourselves while we tried to figure out plan C.  We were in the waiting place... everything we thought of was impractical or expensive or just not possible.  We had no idea what to do, where to go, or how to stop the trip from continuing to unravel around us.


I know... poor, sad, travelers...


But we have recently found a wonderful new thing... maybe you have heard of it; a little thing called couchsurfing.  We met a wonderful Slovenian named Polona who took us in for a few days and took us hiking.  We are headed up to Italy tomorrow to stay with another woman up in Trento.  We are currently in Koper, on the coast of Slovenia.  We have now spent more time in Slovenia than any other country.  We are going swimming in the sea, hiking in the hills, and generally just running amok and having an actual vacation.  Will is trying to improve my swimming skills (not an easy task).  We found a dorm that rents to tourists for super cheap, so we came for an afternoon and decided to stay for four days.  


Next, we head to Trento.  After that, we are actually not sure.  We have been talking about possibly moving our flight up a week or two-- with what we are spending here since we cannot camp, we think it may actually save us money in the long run.  That, and we are tired.  We are, just a little bit, ready to head home.  But dont quote me on that-- we still need to make the change.

So, in sum:  We are still in Slovenia.  We have not hiked the Alps.  We have had a good time at the beach, and plan on continuing to do so until we head up north to enjoy some delcious Italian food.  After that... well, we will see.

The Bike-- scratch that, Walking-- Times (wait... what?)

So!  A few days have passed since our bikes were stolen, and what's the update?

Yesterday (was it really only yesterday?  it seems so long ago!), we were found by the local newspaper.  They printed an article (two now, actually) about us getting our bikes stolen... and now Will and I have become very recognizable.  It's a bit awkward.

The people here have been amazing.  We're staying at a hostel, Hostel  40, and the people here have made what has been a pretty difficult time a bit easier to pass.  We're still in Belgrade, and have had a few days to get used to the idea that we are no longer bicycle tourists.  The article and the publicity got our hopes up a bit that maybe (just maybe) the thieves would realize that they picked the wrong two bikes to sell anonymously and stick them somewhere they would be found.  Or do something stupid and get caught.  One or the other.

But we're still left with the fact that our bikes disappeared someplace between two major cities in Serbia.  There's a lot of distance to cover and while our bikes are unique, this would take a miracle.

So Will and I have come up with a pretty good Plan B.  Zach flies out later this week from Zagreb, Croatia, so he takes his leave from us tomorrow morning.

Will and I have recently (about two hours ago) re-outfitted ourselves for hiking.  This involved buying two relatively cheap packs, a pair of pants for me, and a pair of shoes for Will.  We're going to head to Slovenia, which we have recently found out is the lost gem of the Alps.  We're going to go and hike around for a week or two at a time, until it is time for us to head to Germany to catch our flight home in mid-September.


I've never done any long-distance hiking before-- my family has hiked, but nothing this involved or back-country.  I'm really excited for it-- while I was absolutely in love with traveling by bike, I'm also okay introducing myself to this new form of travel.  We'll get out of the city (awesome) and away from the crowds (even more awesome) and out of the 100-plus degree heat (the most awesome).  We got some good advice from a few other bikers we met here in Belgrade who have been to Slovenia, and they were able to give us some guidance on where to go and how to get there.

It's not the trip we set out on.  But, in reality, this trip has never been the trip I originally had in mind.  And it's been awesome-- more awesome than I could ever have imagined.  I have high hopes for the next couple of weeks, and I'm looking forward to this next branch of the adventure.

We're heading out of town, heading into the wide open air.  We're going.

We'll keep you posted.


"You'll look up and down streets.  Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.

It's opener there
in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen,
don't worry.  Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too.

OH!
THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!"

The Lurch

"You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don't
Because, sometimes, you won't.

I'm sorry to say so
but, sadly, it's true
and Hang-ups
can happen to you.

You can get all hung up
in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You'll be left in a Lurch."


The good Doc sure knew what he was talking about.  We've had our fair share of prickle-ly perches during our month of traveling-- between cancelled boats, hospital visits, and the occasional argument with train conductors, we've had to deal with some stressful situations.  But they've all just seemed to be a part of the trip:  we wanted an adventure, and we were certainly getting one.  After the fact, there was always the general attitude of "this will make a great story."

Saturday morning we hit our first real snag.  We got hung up in that prickle-ly perch and have been left in one hell of a lurch.

Don't worry-- we're all fine.  No broken bones, no more hospital visits. I promise.

We boarded our train to take us from Sofia, Bulgaria, to Novi Sad, Serbia.  It was an overnight train that left around 8:30 in the evening.  Sometime during the night, we fell asleep. And when we woke up the next morning, Will's bike and my bike were gone.  

That's a pretty big lurch.  

Zach's bike is fine-- apparently the thieves only wanted two bikes, and they liked mine and Will's.  We spent the morning with the police, filed a report... and while they say that they have recovered bikes in the past, we are not optimistic about getting either of the bikes back.  

We've already gone over and over everything we SHOULD have done, everything that in hindsight is so clear but in the middle of the night just glazed over.  It's no one's fault but our own, and we acknowledge that fully.  But.  We're all healthy.  None of us are injured.  No one ended up in jail or in a hospital bed.  We have all of our gear-- so we can still camp and have adventures.  We just can't do it by bike. 

We're not going to let this ruin our trip.  Will and I still have a month left to go here, and we'll be damned if we let the loss of our bikes ruin that month.  We're following the good doctor's advice, once again.  He hasn't let us down yet.

"But on you will go

though the weather be foul

On you will go

though your enemies prowl

On you will go

though the Hakken-Kraks howl

Onward up many

a frightening creek,

though your arms may get sore

and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike

and I know you'll hike far

and face up to your problems

whatever they are."

 

Plans?! HA!

You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.


Murphy's Law: If it can go wrong, it will.


These two quote epitomize our trip thus far. As Katrina already told you about SOME of our mix-ups I won't bore you with the details but I will add that we are still having an amazing time even if it wasn't the trip we planned. Mostly what this has taught me is that we shouldn't try and plan or at the least we should be prepared to change our plans on a moments notice. I'm glad we have all had the same idea and are thus far very easy going.


For the next week or so we will be back on dirt road and in small towns without internet so we will try and keep you posted but try and be patient.

I won't apologize for the lack of communication.  Because we're having such an awesome time riding around the countryside and meeting the most incredible people. 

We're currently in Romania, in the relatively big town of Tecuci.  We've biked 502 km since we left the boat in Ukraine (those of you awesome folks who are donating based on our mileage, hope you're keeping track!).  Today is our first rest day-- we pulled into town late last night after one of our hardest days (long hills... one after the other... after the other... after the other... after-- well, you get the idea).  We're taking the opportunity to rest up, eat up, clean up, and catch up on our documentaries.  The clean up part was greatly needed-- it's been hot here.  We're eating as much as we possibly can, and taking every opportunity we can to eat ice cream (we're already on number three today, and it's only 5:00.  The catching up on documentaries is just for fun-- we're learning about the rough life in Tasmania right now.

We're heading towards the Transfagarashan pass, heading further and further west tomorrow.  

The trip has been amazing so far-- partly because of the amazing people we've met along the way.  In Ukraine we were invited into a family's home and fed.  We talked for hours.  Oh, and they didn't really speak English... and our Russian leaves much to be desired. 

In Moldova we were taken in by Olga and Theo, a couple of people who have done their own long-distance bike trip.  They saw us when we stopped at a street fair, and caught us just as we were about to head out of town.  Overnight we all became friends, becoming more and more aware of how similar we all are as the night went on.  We spent a good part of the morning with them before they rode with us to the Romanian border and wished us well on our way. 

Now, I'm off to take my second shower of the day.  Insert some wisdom from the good Doctor... here.

The People You Know

We don't have internet access at the moment (still on the boat… still), so I'm writing these up in an attempt to stave off the boredom a little while longer and we'll post them when we are back in internet range.   For some reason I don't have Dr. Suess memorized so I can't provide a little snatch from "Oh, the Places You'll Go"… but I KNOW there's something in there about meeting people, making friends, and maybe even getting help from strangers.

I'll try to find it before posting.  Otherwise, use your imagination.

We've been on the road for less than a week.  I'm a little confused on what day it is, so I'm not sure exactly how long we've been out-- but I know it's less than ten.  Already, we've met so many people who have helped us, befriended us, and generally made this trip worth taking.

I've already mentioned the Georgians and the English teachers in Batumi who helped us figure out the boat situation, helped us get tickets, and gave us a home base to come back to in the form of their hostel.  Nice guys.

Then there's the two Dutch men we're on the boat with-- Howerd and Freerk.  Freerk turned thirty on our second night on the boat, and we had an little birthday party for him, including brandy tasting, cake, and getting yelled at for making noise.  We're the only actual passengers on the freighter-- everyone else is either a truck driver or crew-- and we're kept pretty separate from them.  Our meals are after everyone else has eaten, and while most of the crew speaks English, most of the drivers don't.  Howerd and Freerk have made excellent travel partners for this ride, and we've had some marvelous times in the last three days.

But the one who amazes me the most is a Georgian man by the name of Emzar.  Our first day in Batumi, we ran into a little trouble;  one of us got a bit of food poisoning, got dehyrated, and we ended up needing to go to the hospital (DON'T WORRY.  WE ARE ALL FINE.  I MEAN IT).  Emzar helped us get to the hospital and, at our refusal to leave our bikes behind, stuck them in the back of his work van and took them to the hostipal with us.  He sat with us in the hospital, taught us some Georgian, insisted on buying us lunch.  When we got the bill (48 lauri), we didn't have quite enough to cover it, so he payed it and then drove me to the nearest ATM so I could get the cash we needed to pay him back.  And, when we tried to give him money and buy lunch, he refused.  He practically shamed us for even suggesting that he would take the money. 

This man helped us above and beyond the call of duty.  He could have just walked past us instead of offering to help.  He could have helped us get to the hospital and then left us in the capable hands of the staff there.  But he didn't.  He did so much for us, and all we could do was learn how to thank him in his own language.  It wasn't enough.  We will always be grateful to him.

I hope we don't have another time where we need help like we did then-- once was enough for a trip.  But when we did need the help, someone stepped us and gave it to us, despite not knowing us, despite barely having a common word between us.  And this does kind of reassure me a bit-- that, much of the time, people do step up and help, whether it's by sharing  a cup of tea and some stories to pass the time or by asking if there's a problem, then helping to find a solution.  I only hope we're able to repay some of the kindnesses we've received-- and continue to receive, I'm sure-- in some way.

We're On a Boat

Sorry for the lack of communication, but now that we're on the road, our internet access is a bit skimpy.

Will and Zach arrived in Armenia on June 29th, and we spent the next week touring the country with my sisters, Meghan and Alethea, and Meghan's friend, Vanessa.  I took them to meet my host family from my first two months in Armenia and they met all of my Armenian friends in Hrazdan.  We had a big spaghetti dinner with everyone in Hrazdan on one of my last nights in the town, which involved not only introducing my troup to my Armenian friends but also my saying goodbye to these wonderful people who have been such a big part of my life in Armenia.

We toured around, visiting different important sites in Armenia and introducing the troup to my Volunteer friends who were still in country.  We went on a cognac tour.  We ate a lot of food.

My sisters left on Friday, July 6th-- our original departure date.   However, we decided to hold off on our train ride out of Armenia, mostly to give me more time to wrap up my life there.  Our plan was to take a train into Yerevan, hang out at the train station and run errands, and then board the train to Batumi, Georgia around 3 in afternoon.

One thing we have learned on our trip so far:  plans don't actually work, most of the time.

Despite the fact that the train from Hrazdan was supposed to arrive at around 7:15 in the morning, it actually arrived half an hour early.   While this was annoying, it wasn't too terrible:  we ended up hunting up three taxis who would drive us and our bikes to the train station for a decent price.  We got on the train to Batumi with only a little problems with our bikes-- we ended up having to stack them on the spare bed in our little room, after taking off the wheels.  All in all it was a pretty nice train ride.

However, once we got into Batumi we discovered that our original ferry to Varna, Bulgaria is no longer running-- they cancelled it about a month ago.  After much discussion and a lot of help from some local volunteer English teachers and Georgians, we found out that there was a ferry to Ukraine that we could take instead.  However, no one seemed to be able to tell us exactly when the boat would leave-- some said Wednesday, some said Friday, some said Sunday, but we had to come in on Friday to pick up our tickets….  Once we learned that we would not be catching a ferry in the next couple of days, we headed out of Batumi to a national park about 20k away from the city.  We rode along pleasant roads and over a mild pass, then hit 6 miles of gravel road we had to take down before we would reach the campsite.  It was difficult riding, especially with our bikes loaded down, but we made it to the visitor's center of the park and met a wonderful Georgian family who was celebrating a birthday.  They gave us wine and some food when we asked them if they knew how far we had to ride to get to the campsite, then rode on (mildly tipsy) another couple of miles. 

We ended up camping in a field next to a river.  We played frisbee when it wasn't raining and cards when it was.  The next day, after waiting out a couple hours of rain, we made our way closer to town and camped on the beach of the Black Sea.  We headed back into Batumi on Wednesday and were finally able to figure out the ships:  apparently there were two boats:  one on Thursday and one on Sunday.  However, the first time we came in the woman decided that the freighter leaving on Thursday wasn't comfortable enough for us, so she only told us about the Sunday one.  But when we came back, I guess we were looking a little ragged from camping and biking for a few days.  She told us (through our translator) that we looked "poor" and sold us the tickets.

So now we're on a boat.  We've been on the boat for the last three days, and while it's a great way to travel, it's also extremely boring.  The cabins are wonderful and actually very spacious, the food is decent (although very heavy on the sausage), and our two fellow passengers are a couple of wonderful Dutch guys who help break up the monotony that is our own company.  However, it's three days where we haven't been doing anything-- and I do mean anything.  A lot of naps.  A lot of reading.  A lot of watching for dolphins (there are quite a few that we've seen).  We're all going a little stir crazy at the moment. 


So, you may be asking:  now that our plan has once again changed, where are we going? 

The answer is:  we've kind of stopped trying to plan.  Not really…. but kind of.  We get off the boat just outside of Odessa in Ukraine.  From there we will ride south, cutting through a little corner of Moldova (mostly because we can't avoid it; partly because it's an extra stamp in the passport) and into Romania.  We've gotten a lot of good advice on places to hit in Romania, so we'll bike kind of south-west through the country, biking through a couple of beautiful passes and whatnot.  From there we'll probably stick to our original idea of biking along the Danube until turning off to see Croatia and Plitvice National Park-- that part of the "plan" still hasn't changed.  Again, Zach leaves sometime in the middle of this to fly home, and Will and I will continue on our merry way.