Arto's Blog

The first suprise in New Delhi were large open spaces in the city center: not every place in the capital city of India is packed with people, houses and vehicles. On the other hand, a walk in the market streets of old town, a drive from a suburb to city center in the morning or a ride in a rush hour bus gives a good taste what's the leading metropolis like in a country with more than one billion inhabitants. It's lively, it's fun, it's occasionally depressing (poor homeless people on the streets), it's polluted, it's noisy. Many rickshaws, buses and trucks carry a request painted in the rear: "Keep Distance! Horn Please!". The first part is ignored by most drivers but the latter is followed with enthusiasm. ;-)

The traffic looks quite chaotic but I've been constantly amazed how easy it is to travel around in the city. For short distances up to a few kilometers, a cycle-rickshaw or motorized auto-rickshaw will cost less than one euro — after some bargaining of course. If the distance is longer, I often just go to the nearest bus stop and simply ask a fellow passenger which line to take, without even trying to decipher the Hindi script in which the destination is written on the bus. Virtually every time I've met very helpful people who speak English, help me to the correct bus, show on which stop to get off, and sometimes even walk me to my destination or help to negotiate a good price with a rickshaw driver to take me there. It would be quite affordable to hire a taxi for a full day, as prices start at less than 10 € for 8 hours and 80 kilometers, but that would be much less interesting.

In addition to rickshaws and buses, I've also tried the subway, taxi, maxicab and a ride at the back seat of a motorcycle driven by a turban-wearing university student. Oh yes, the last one was without helmet, as you might guess. I also survived riding my own bicycle 23 kilometers from a suburb to city center. Locals seemed to be quite amused by that sight.

For the sightseeing, I've seen a number of temples and mosques, a couple of ancient forts and museums, and quite a lot of city life. Best parts have been the monumental and brand new (building completed in year 2005) Akshardham temple, and a couple of less famous sites where locals go. For example, I went to wander around in Delhi University campus and met a group of physics students. One of them took me to a local Gurudawara, a temple of the Sikh community, where people were playing and singing to say good night to the priests. The atmosphere was at the same time devout, sincere and cheerful — a captivating experience.

Food is tasty but not too spicy, and cheap. Most dishes are vegetarian, I think I've eaten meat only twice during my first eight days here. A typical meal consists of some kind of bread, a few vegetable based sauces and possibly rice, and costs between 0.5 and 1.5 euros. It's possible to spend multiple times that in a fancy hotel restaurant, but I've mainly eaten from street stands or in nice small cafes and restaurants where locals go as well.

Earlier I've advertised my positive experiences with Hospitality Club, both as a host and as a guest. In India another similar site called CouchSurfing seems to be more popular so shortly before coming here I joined that as well. Through CouchSurfing I met Saurav and Kanupriya, a nice couple who warmly received me when I arrived, and helped in many ways during my first days in Delhi. I also participated in a CouchSurfing meeting in a local restaurant with live guitar music and some 20 members attending.

Tomorrow I'll take a train to Agra and back to see Taj Mahal, perhaps the most famous sight in India. I'll go there with two other Finns which I happened to meet by accident when buying the tickets. After Agra I'll stay at least one more day in Delhi but will soon get out of the city and start cycling towards Jaipur, which is about 300 km away. Except for a few short rides in Istanbul and Delhi it's already over one month since I was actually traveling by bicycle, so I'm looking forward to getting back on the saddle again.

(Minor edit 2007-01-18: added names of my CS hosts.)

A couple of days after leaving Varna, a November heat wave arrived in Bulgaria and we were enjoying 20 degree and even higher temperatures for a few days. By accident we got also a holiday apartment near one of the most famous beaches to match the weather.

Both Bulgarian and Romanian parts of the Black Sea coast have plenty of beach resorts which attract a large number of tourists during the summer and become almost deserted in the winter. Especially in Bulgaria investors seem to believe that more money is still waiting for takers. Hundreds of new hotels, villas and apartment buildings are being constructed and roadsides are cluttered with advertisements of the real estate companies.

We had just decided to take a look at the beach at a resort called Sunny Beach, when a friendly Bulgarian couple in their fifties came to talk to us. They were fascinated about our trip and invited us to stay at their place if we had time. Well, we had. :) It turned out that our new friends who lived in Sofia had recently bought not only one but two holiday apartments in a nearby apartment complex and we were offered to borrow one of them. So after three nights of camping we had like a package holiday weekend: beach, sunshine, swimming, short walk to a shiny new two-room flat with all the modern comforts. Just the crowds were missing.

Actually better than the beach at least at this time of the year was the historic town of Nesebar, which was also just a short walk from Sunny Beach. Nesebar is famous for ruins of ancient churches built between the 6th and 14th centuries. Old wooden and stone houses along narrow cobblestone streets gave it a fairy-tale town feel, especially now during off-season when it wasn't filled with tourists. We also loved the small port full of bright colors: nicely painted fishing boats floating next to the graffiti decorated pier. The picture I chose for this blog entry is a front view of one of the boats at night. As the sugar on top, in a restaurant in Nesebar we tasted superb grilled bluefish, the best fish meal during the whole trip this far.

After Sunny Beach and Nesebar just 20 km along the coast we found one of the best camping places on the trip. It was on the sea shore less than a kilometer from the main road, but nicely hidden so that we didn't need to worry about getting unexpected visitors. The sea had carried plenty of loose pieces of wood on the shore, so we made a campfire and sat around it listening to the sound of waves hitting the nearby rocks. The holiday apartment had been nice, but camping at that place still felt more like a traveler's way to live. We had even one more guy to chat with: another Lithuanian friend who traveled five days by bus and train to meet erte.

Yesterday we arrived in Burgas, walked around in the city a bit and went to a salsa party in the evening with a local Hospitality Club member. The city tour itself was not terribly interesting (except for the seaside park and the party, which were nice) but we met Emile, a 51-year old Belgian cyclist who's also on a long tour. So now we are three, heading towards Istanbul together.

Last weekend I celebrated my 29th birthday hiking and camping out in the wild. The picture is from the top of Mt. Pietrosul, the highest peak of the Calimani mountains. At 2102 meters above sea level it's not very high, but the views were still great. And I had great company plus chocolate pudding for the birthday breakfast. :)

After a couple of days in Targu Mures and the Calimani mountains I rode 50 km south to the town of Sighisoara. It was a pittoresque town, no surprise as it's included in the Unesco World Heritage list, but one afternoon and morning was enough for me to see it. Today I continued further east to Odorheiu Secuiesc or perhaps I should rather say Szekelyudvarhely, which is the Hungarian name. Most of the inhabitants here are ethnic Hungarians and that's by far the most common language heard on the streets too. Unfortunately I've already forgot some of the words I learned in Hungary, and I find it difficult to set my mind to "Hungarian mode" as I've tried to pick up at least a few words of Romanian during the last three weeks.

An interesting detail told me by Erika, my host in Targu Mures (who was also Hungarian), was that you can often distinguish Romanian and Hungarian houses by the color of the gates. Blue gates are Romanian, green ones Hungarian and others could be either. Red seems to be a common color too, I saw a lot of red and green gates today when riding through villages.

My bike also had a special day today, as the odometer went over the 30000 km mark. Roughly half of the parts have been changed at least once since I bought it but it has still seen a lot of road for a bike. On this trip I'm at 4540 km and will add about 90 tomorrow riding to Lacu Rosu, yet another mountain lake which should be a beautiful place.

As a technical note, my site has been moved to a new server which uses a more recent version of php. This finally resolves an annoying bug with the admin interface of the blog software. If you notice that something has been broken due to the upgrade, please drop me a line.

Last Tuesday I was cycling in Northern Transsylvania and planning to camp or stay in a pension somewhere by lake Colibita, a beautiful mountain lake next to the Calimani mountains. The road was following the lake shore but from a few dozen to a couple of hundred meters away from it. I took a smaller road which seemed to lead towards the shore through a small patch of forest, hoping to find a place to camp or at least take a swim.

I indeed found the shore, but also about one hundred sheep, a few dogs and two shepherds there. They were quite surprised to see such an unusual visitor. I greeted them and we exchanged a few words in Romanian using the very limited vocabulary I had learned from my phrasebook during the trip. Then I asked if I could camp somewhere nearby. After pondering for a few moments they pointed at two houses saying that a third shepherd had a free room and I could sleep there.

In a moment I found myself in a small but beautifully decorated guest room. It had a separate entrance from the house and looked like it might be a room to rent for agroturistic holidays. I'm not sure if that was the case (I didn't see any signs indicating that), but at least this time they wouldn't accept any money when I offered to pay for the room.

The shepherds went back to take the sheep in a fenced area for the night. I had some bread, cheese and fruit for dinner and walked out to the lakeshore which made the dogs go wild for a while. The shepherds were still within eyesight so I wasn't too scared of the dogs but I abandoned my plans for swimming. After a while the owner of the room came and asked me to turn off the small lamp - the house didn't have electricity and the lamp was being powered by the tractor battery! I switched to my own headlamp, put my own bedsheet on top of the bed and was just about to start writing my travel diary as the owner came back and invited me to have a drink.

It was a bit more than one drink. I joined the dinner of the shepherds which consisted of several cups of home made palinka (a kind of aperitif) followed by soup, meat, vegetables and wine. I tried to share some of the food I had but they wouldn't even want to taste salmiakki. ;) This was one of the occasions where I really wanted to be able to speak the local language, but even without many common words we managed to communicate a little bit. In the morning I was still treated to a similar breakfast (well, with a bit less palinka) before I was let on the road again. I left an origami swan, which seemed to be a funny thing to them, as a small memory and got their address so that I can send at least a postcard later.

This was not the only case of Romanian hospitality I've encountered during my trip. Near Gherla I met two local cyclists and we rode about 30 kilometers together. One of them, Alin, invited me to stay for the night at his home with his grandparents and I also there I was offered delicious meals and food to go on the trip. In the Apuseni mountains I met Michael from Germany and Tibi from Romania (but who was living in Germany), had a dinner with them and later also met Tibi's wife in Bistrita. I came to Romania with few contacts and little knowledge of the country but I seem to meet wonderfully friendly people all the time.

Now I'm in Targu Mures, staying with Erika, a Hospitality Club member. She loves mountains and tomorrow we're going for a weekend trip to Calimani mountains together with three other friends of her. I'll see if I'll meet more foxes or other animals there. :)

I like traveling without advance reservations. While on the road I often don't know in the morning where I'll spend the following night. Usually it's easy to find a hostel, a guesthouse or a nice place to camp. However, sometimes everything doesn't go exactly as planned and that can add some extra spice to the trip.

Scene 1: Hospitality of an alcoholist

Last Tuesday I was looking for a hotel or guesthouse in a small town called Jozefow. According to my map there should have been one, but a quick tour in the city center didn't reveal any. I stopped at the main square by the pharmacy and asked two men if they knew the way.

One of the men was willing to help. He first seemed to have an idea of where the hotel might be, but then muttered something which maybe meant that it's closed or that he didn't know after all. Then he asked me to follow saying that he has a sofa and I could sleep there. Well, why not, I thought, even a place to set up the tent would be enough. It was obvious that the man had had a couple of drinks but it didn't look too bad.

Ten minutes later I was in his flat. If I'd make a list of the worst flats I've seen, that would have probably scored the top. Yes, there was a room with the sofa, plus a table, a chair, a TV and even a tiny bathroom. Besides that, the furnishing consisted of a few dirty plates and cups, beer bottles and cigarette stubs which were all over the place. The short corridor between the bathroom and the room was flooded — it later turned out that flushing the toilet would spill part of the water on the floor. At that point I would have rather escaped, but it was too late. All my bags were in the flat, my bike locked in the cellar storage room and it was already dark outside.

My host's name was Krysztof and he was more drunk than he earlier appeared to be. He offered me a beer and was clearly happy when I had working matches (his own were wet) and could help to light his cigarette. I accepted the beer but successfully refused remains of some unidentifiable foodstuff from the bottom of a jar. Krysztof did not want my bananas or oranges. He clearly wanted to have a conversation with me, but due to the language barrier we didn't get much further than saying our names and where I come from.

I thought it would work out best if he had some sleep so quite early I indicated that I was tired. Krysztof produced a surprisingly clean camping mattress from behind his bed and insisted that I'd use that instead of my own. I took it but replaced the offered moist blanket with my own bedsheet. I placed the mattress strategically so that he had an unobstructed path to the bathroom, my handlebar bag with valuables and bicycle helmet were next to me under the table so that he couldn't fall on them and started thinking about scenarios which could occur next morning. Fortunately Krysztof also soon crashed on the sofa.

I even managed to get several hours of sleep before around six Krysztof woke up and decided he needed more beer. There wasn't any left in the flat. I suggested the shop and he came to the conclusion that it's best that I leave at the same time. I was more than happy with that solution, so quicker than ever I had all my stuff out, my bike out from the cellar and I was on the road again. Krysztof headed towards the shop and I gave him 10 zlotys (2.5 euros) beer money. After all, although I didn't particularly enjoy the night, he tried his best to be friendly and offer his hospitality. Maybe my visit was a highlight for him and made a good story later in the local pub, or maybe it was quickly forgotten — I'll never know.

Scene 2: Camping at a meat factory

Two days later I was in a bit larger town called Wolbrom in the same situation as in Jozefow. I had planned to go a youth hostel which was marked on my map but couldn't easily find it and it was getting late. This time I chose a group of young guys and girls to ask for help. They had no idea about the hostel but knew about a new hotel nearby. However, they said that the hotel would be expensive and offered a safe place for my tent. Sure, I thought I'd give it a go and opted for the camping.

The guy leading the discussion turned out to be the son of a meat factory owner. Incidentally, also his name was Krysztof, but I knew it was going to be a different experience this time. The place to camp was in a guarded area on the yard of the factory. There was a large lawn which was perfect for the tent and even a toilet and washroom I could use. I quickly set up the tent and went back to the city center with my new friends.

That was a fun night. First we went to a kebab joint to get the biggest kebab I've ever had — one of the girls worked at the place and decided to make a special one for the crazy Finnish cyclist. Then a few drinks in a local bar, interesting discussions (Krysztof spoke good English) followed by a visit at his brother's place.

Next morning I was led through the factory to take a shower and treated to a sumptuous breakfast in Krysztof's father's office. Other employees were certainly curious about who on earth had first put up the tent in the front yard and then was accompanied to the executive section of the offices. :) During the morning I also met Krysztof's father, mother and his second brother, and got a kilo of different sausages as the farewell present. We'll keep in touch via email.