How long does it take to travel 100 miles? An hour? A day? A week? Well, it all depends, obviously!

One thing that always surprises me, is how quickly you get into a mindset based on the situation you’re in. It was the same when I was doing the row. I quickly found it perfectly normal to think that anything over 3kt was pretty good, and a daily total of 50nm was always my target (one that was sadly rarely reached). It therefore came as a bit of a shock when, just a few days after finishing in Antigua, I was listening to an announcement on the plane telling me that we were starting our approach to land 100 miles out. 100 miles?! That’s a couple of days away!

When faced with a journey of over 6,000 miles, most people wouldn’t even consider going any other way than by plane. Even then, it would probably be quite a long flight. But, here I am, pedalling all the way. Admittedly, I doubt that your everyday person would be able to take nearly four months to get to their destination, but the world’s not a big place when you get down to it.

Since starting from London, about a month ago, I’ve cycled nearly 2,000 miles. I’ve tried to achieve over 60 miles every day, and most days that has been manageable. The last few days, it proved impossible, as the wind conspired against me. Today, however, that wasn’t the case. I had 100 miles to cover from Nis to Sofia, and I wasn’t feeling overly confident.

Last night, I was desperately searching for reasons why it was too dangerous to cycle all the way. Was the road too thin, too treacherous, or simply too hilly? Well, no. No excuse could be found, and I was on my bike at eight o’clock this morning, gradually knocking the miles away. I’m really glad I did.

My new favourite things in the world are gorges and tunnels! Rather than taking the long way over the hills, the Serbians very sensibly decided to cut the road along the flattest route possible and, where there wasn’t a flat route, they made one. I was flying, and the scenery was spectacular. In fact, the only problem was my constant stopping to take photos!

By lunchtime, I was at the border, following a brief return to the motorway, and crossed back into the EU for one final time. I think that today has probably been my most efficient day of the trip so far. Leaving in the morning, I was in Bulgaria by lunch, found my hostel by six o’clock (including crossing a time-zone and a border) and was showered and fed before eight. I’d even managed the small matter of cycling 100 miles in the meantime. You could say I’m feeling fairly pleased with myself now!

The plan from here is to head across Bulgaria towards Istanbul, which I should reach within about five days. So, how do you cross Europe? Fly? Drive? Why not cycle?

And that’ll only be the beginning over with.

Along most of my path through Serbia, I’ve been travelling between the major towns: Subotica - Novi Sad - Belgrade - Nis. That means that, while there’s been a lovely motorway the whole way, I’ve been stuck on the now neglected old road. I didn’t intend to change that. But my navigation skills are sometimes lacking.

It was a real struggle getting up this morning. Despite having only covered about 115 miles in the previous two days, I was shattered. Following my alarm going off at six o’clock, I pressed snooze. And again. And again. And again… I got up at 8.15!

The first couple of hours were painfully slow, partly down to the never-ending climb and partly due to the ever-present (but seemingly reduced) headwind. My average speed for the first hour was less than 6mph. But I only had 40 miles to Nis, where there was an option to stop for the night, so I wasn’t overly concerned.

After about 20 miles (and several hours), I found myself face to face with a toll-booth. I stopped and had a look for a while, and couldn’t quite work out whether it was taking me onto the motorway or not. It didn’t look like it, and I hadn’t seen any signs suggesting that it would, but I couldn’t think of any other reason for there being a barrier there. After a couple of minutes of thinking over my options, the man in the booth came out and beckoned me over to the side.

“Nis?”, he asked. I nodded. He beckoned me through the gap in the barrier and directed me along the road. Well, if the man says so, who am I to disagree? And there I was, cycling onto the motorway.

And it was brilliant!

It could have been partially down to the adrenaline of doing something that I clearly knew was illegal and, arguably, slightly foolish, but my speed immediately increased from under 10mph to a fairly respectable 13mph. That may not seem like a lot, but it felt like it. It turned out to be an absolute pleasure riding along the motorway, as the road surface was great, it cut through the hills rather than going up and down them, and I had a whole lane (the hard shoulder) to myself. Why hadn’t I done this sooner?

Before I knew it, I had covered the remaining 20 miles to Nis and arrived at the next toll. This time, a man came out immediately and pointed over to the far side. I wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting me to do, but nevertheless I cycled over there and looked for a way to continue my journey. Then, a whistle; the police!

I was politely informed that what I was doing was illegal, and that I could face a €3,000 fine. In response, I did my best impression of a poor innocent fool (something that comes naturally) and apologised profusely. When I asked which way to go from here, he rolled his eyes and pointed back to the motorway, allowing me to continue my journey into Nis! One of the things the policeman claimed during our conversation was that riding on the motorway was very dangerous. Had he ever tried riding on the other roads?!

On your typical Serbian road, you have to weave in and out of the potholes along a road that’s barely wide enough for a car and a lorry. When you have two lorries passing each other at the same time as overtaking you, evasive action is required. The rest of the time, you merely have to cope with the turbulence as trucks thunder by at 60mph, doing everything you can to avoid either being blown off the road or sucked into the traffic.

However, on the motorway, the roads are smooth, the traffic is no heavier than elsewhere, it’s all going one way and, thanks to the hard shoulder, you have a good 12-feet between yourself and everyone else. It’s by far the safest place to ride!

Entering Nis, I was welcomed by Gile, who had emailed me a few days before. He took me on a little sightseeing tour, visiting the very small concentration camp and travelling around the fortress (which every Serbian city appears to have). By the time we’d reached the centre, it was about three o’clock and I had a decision to make. Stay in Nis, or get a bit closer to the Bulgarian border?

Having lost my momentum in the very interesting concentration camp, I decided that it was time to stop for the day, thereby giving my body and, more importantly, my mind a bit of a break. Tomorrow, I have another decision to make. Apparently, the road out of Nis towards Sofia is very dangerous. No longer will I have the safety of a motorway to protect me. It is a simple Serbian road, winding over hills and through tunnels, carrying with it all the traffic that wants to head east towards Bulgaria and beyond. And there’s a lot of it.

Cycling along the motorway was the best decision I’ve made so far. Cycling out of Nis could be turn out to be the last one I make. There’s always a bloody decision to make!

Yesterday morning, I set off from Belgrade with the intention of reaching Sofia, a distance of 400km, in just three days. I knew that it was a big ask, but if you don’t ask big, you’ll never get big answers. However, on this occasion, I simply haven’t been able to respond.

As I mentioned yesterday, the wind was in my face all day, leading to a disappointing 50-mile ride. That left me with 100 miles to Nis, my planned destination for tonight. On any day, 100 miles is not going to be easy, but some days it will be bordering on impossible. Today was one of those days.

I’m not sure if I imagined it, but the wind seemed even stronger today. Not only does the wind slow you down massively, but it also makes it impossible to wear my hat! There were times when I had to watch people cycling past the other way, practically free-wheeling up the hills as I struggled on, getting slower and slower. After three hours on my bike, I had only covered 20 miles. Anyone who has been keeping track of my Twittering will have seen that it’s been a bit of a mental battle.

About 35 miles in, I conceded defeat. With only one-third of the necessary distance covered in five hours, I was looking at a likely arrival time in Nis of close to midnight. That wasn’t going to be sensible! So, I came to a decision. Passing through Jagodina, one of the bigger towns along my way, I pulled into the train station (well, it took me about three goes to find it!) and asked about trains to Nis. My plan wasn’t to get one the whole way, but rather to get a little boost to ensure I could arrive before nightfall, avoiding what would have undoubtedly been a suicidal ride along dark and potholed Serbian roads. There was a train leaving at 16.10, and I bought my ticket.

With a several-hour wait ahead of me, I sat myself on a bench, ate my way through some leftovers and thought about what I had done. I couldn’t get away from one simple fact: I knew exactly what I wanted to do, but would it be the same as what I will want to have done? There are bits of the trip where it is impossible for me to cycle all the way due to water or severe safety issues (I’ve been advised to get a lift from the Kenyan border to the first town due to bandits and lions, for example), but I was never intending to jump on a train when it got a little difficult. Even when it got really difficult!

As I waited, I saw a reply to one of my Tweets saying “If in doubt, take the easy option. Leisurely lunch and the train it is then”. The “easy option”?! Hang on; had I wanted to take the easy option, I would be on a plane to Kenya rather than plodding along on a bike. That would have been quicker, easier and, let’s face it, far cheaper. This isn’t about the easy option. What was I doing?!

I was back on my bike in minutes, with an unused train ticket in my bag. It was only when I cleared the town that I was reminded quite how strong the wind was, and immediately regretted my decision. But it was a decision, and I don’t like turning around. Fifteen miles and two hours later (my progress remaining blisteringly fast, as you can tell), I passed through Paracin, another town that I knew would have a train station. As far as I could tell, my train hadn’t passed yet (the railway line was tantalisingly following my road), and so I conceded defeat for the second time in one day! Eventually, I found what appeared to be a train station (it’s quite difficult to tell over here), and got off my bike. I then made the mistake of looking at my telephone again. There was another response to my Tweet informing people that I’d changed my mind and decided to carry on.

“Thought you probably would.”

Bugger. I can’t get on the train now. Back on the road again!
It’s days like today when doing this solo is a real challenge. The good times are great, as I see amazing places and get to meet fascinating people. But the bad times are when it would be really useful to have someone there to keep your spirits up and give you a helping hand. Thankfully, I found a really nice camping spot and have fed myself a big bowl of pasta, but I’m still regretting not having got on that train, safe in the knowledge that, tomorrow, I probably would have regretted the opposite decision. Decisions, decisions, decisions. And there’s another one tomorrow!

Having covered 100km today, I’m now about 40 miles from Nis. From there, it will be about 100 miles to Sofia. If the weather is good, those 100 miles will be a long, but manageable, day. If the weather doesn’t play ball again, it will be another impossible task. Which means that, tomorrow, if I choose to cycle to Nis and stop, I could be setting myself up for taking four days where I’d wanted to take just two. The other option is to cycle straight past Nis, despite the warm reception I was looking forward to, and get going towards the Bulgarian border. At the moment, I have no idea which one to go for. I probably still won’t know until I’m cycling out of Nis, either tomorrow or on Wednesday.

Even then, I doubt I’ll be sure!

I had a blog all planned in my head at about five o’clock today. Then something happened that changed all that. Which is probably a good thing, because it would have likely been one long rant!

Just like with the row, one of the big struggles on this trip is with my head. Hills I can cope with - they’re a clearly definable entity that take time to go up and then take time to go down. If they were there yesterday, they’ll be there tomorrow, and it never seems as though they’re out to get you, even if they can be very frustrating at times. Wind, however, is another matter. I just can’t work out a way to deal with it!

I made the mistake of staying up a bit too late last night in Belgrade (not drinking, but planning), which led to a late getaway at just before noon today. It took over 25 miles to clear the hills going south out of Belgrade, but that was the least of my worries. It was virtually blowing a gale, right into my face. Going up hills was almost a bit of respite, as it gave me a little shelter from the weather but, as soon as I was clear of trees, my hat was getting blown off and I was having to peddle hard even going downhill. Anything into double figures was an achievement, which was difficult to be happy about when I’d been averaging over 13mph for the last couple of days.

Very slowly, I knocked off some miles, but had only covered 30 miles by three o’clock. While I had no fixed stopping point for tonight (which perhaps made things more difficult), I need to be in Nis tomorrow, a total distance of over 150 miles. To say I wasn’t happy would be an understatement. All afternoon, I was dreaming of the moment I could pull over and stop, cook myself some dinner, and just stop cycling, probably then proceeding to curl up in a ball and cry! The language coming out of my mouth was appalling, and I was really struggling.

But then, having travelled just over 55 miles (I think), something interesting happened. A car drove past me and pulled over. I spotted the bike in the back, and the people inside got out and said hello. Most of the day, I’d been fairly unreceptive to beeping and waving (I was grumpy, plain and simple), but I took the opportunity to stop and have a quick chat. It turned out that the guy in the back was a 17-year old cyclist coming back from a race. He then invited me to stay with him at his home in the next town. It wasn’t quite as far as I had planned to go, but how could I turn down a bed, shower, food and company, especially after the day I’d had?

Throughout the day, I’d been happy with anything over 10mph. Just before the cyclist stopped for a chat, I’d probably been cycling at closer to 8mph. There’s nothing like being shepherded along by a professional cyclist in his car to make you put a bit more effort in! Somehow, I managed to find the strength to fly along at 14mph, although I could really feel it! And, here I am, in the living room of this guy’s house.

Everything has a downside, and tomorrow I will have a long day of nearly 100 miles to Nis, before having another 100+ mile day from Nis to Sofia on Tuesday. It could be straightforward, it could be difficult. It all depends on one thing.

The bloody wind!