Sericusa ----- Ispica

Getting lost in Sicily is a pleasant
experience when you have
 panoramas like this

Not trusting the Italian roads, or my navigation of them in any case, I give myself 9 hours of daylight to make a 50km trip. I have learned from yesterday that it is not just the hilly terrain that slows one down in Sicily.
However, after only losing the path once, I arrive at Ispica after only 4 hours.


Ispica.... qui bella!!!

What a remarkable town. It is built into a hillside and is tranquility personified. I am happy that I have received an invitation to couchsurf in such an idyllic place. There seems to be no commercial accommodation here and at 2pm, few people are out on the winding maze of streets.

Catania ---- Sericusa

On the right road, again... how nice is Sicily

ANAS man with van removes this
menace to Siclian traffic

So THIS is an Autostrade.. ah ha... now I know

Had planned to get to Ispica today, but the Italian road Gods are not making my life easy. Getting out of Catania is troublesome. Avoiding the Autostrade (motorways) is now the bane of my existence. In the end I decide to take the risk on the Autostrade, as it seems destiny that all roads lead to an Autostrade. Progress is quick. However after a 3km tunnel, I am pulled over - possibly for going too fast?!? Nope, but I play the ignorance card and they are more bemused than officious and I am left there on the side of the road to await a pickup truck. Get left 3km further up the road but this delay has caused me to seriously re-evaluate today's final destination.


Nice B&B but not a patch on CouchSurfing

90 minutes at a buffet breakfast

Further circles are performed in order to avoid the Autostrade. The signposts here are more confusing than anywhere else thus far on this trip. Decide that "ce sera, sera" and settle for making Sericusa. Have to splash out on a B&B as the night falls and the Italian drivers hurtle about the streets.
A full-on breakfast the next morning is a welcome sight and gets me hydrated and psyched for the 31C ride to Ispica.


Bacau --- Catania (Sicily, Italy)

Mediterranean morning swimming -
happier than I look to be here

Flying seems such a cheat, but gotta keep to a deadline: Francesco's wedding in a few days on Sept 28th in Modica.

Underwhelming Sicilian wine

The next question is whether our DIY packing job was sufficient to protect my bike from the "throwers" in both airports. A quick inspection and alles in Ordnung! Just need 40 minutes to unpack the bike and reconstruct and I am able to ride right out of the airport. Again, some puzzled and, I like to think, admiring looks by the airline staff whilst doing so.
Make it to camping ground (Jonsi) and experience my first Sicilian pizza. More spectacular is the location of the campground - directly situated on the coast, so I go for an early morning swim the next morning. The Black Sea last week, now Mediterranean... amazing.

Chesinau -- Bacau (Romania)

Bike parade

Still 30km from Chesinau and hoping to get to mountainous Iasi before nightfall with a wee hangover did not bode well for this leg of my journey. Also, I wanted to meet Ilia for a coffee in Chesinau.
As time ran out to cycle to Iasi, where my friend Andrei and his family awaited my arrival, I decided the only way was to get a train. Met up with Ilia and his friend Sacha and saw a huge bike parade through the streets of Chesinau. Thanks to them, I was able to catch a train with my bike stowed in the upper bunk of the overnight train. As my flight from Bacau to Catania (Sicily) was in two days, I could not stay in Iasi but went straight to Bacau.
270km journey - by bike approx 13-14 hours total, by Express train, the journey time was nearly 8 hours! It involves passport control and customs control by Moldavian and Romanian officers. Also, it involves changing the axels on the train at the border, as the "eastern block" countries use a different gauge. This journey flew by as I had a very seasoned and addicted world traveller (Dave) from Manchester in my compartment.

"Happiness from within" - right on
Johnny

However, arriving in Bacau at 2am with a dead phone and no sleep was not cool. Instead of braving the streets of Bacau and it's roving "community dog" population, I stay in the train station until dawn.
Recharging my phone at a cafe, Johnny (Mario moustache in photo), who talks about his philosophy of inner happiness.

Rockstar treatment in Bacau airport

Can you guess what it is, yet?

Stefan (aka Alex), my host for Bacau, collects me and shows me about the city before bringing me to his house for a large breakfast. He has his own grassroots bike lobby group in Bacau, which encourages cycling and highlights the difficulties for cyclists on the streets of Bacau. Then I meet his friend (Andrei) with whom I will actually be staying tonight. I enjoy the food his mother sends home with him then later that night we prepare the bike for its plane ride the next day.
Then it's time to chill out in a park with some friends. Have some beers, sing some songs and chat until way past my bedtime.
We leave for the airport 60 minutes before the departure; not my usual style, but Andrei works as border patrol at the airport and I get rockstar treatment. Not only do I get lots of shocked looks from his colleagues at the airport, but everyone wants to know my story and tell me about their biking experience. I am last to board the plane and with a fond farewell to Andrei and Alex, I am on my way to Sicily.

 

Odessa - Chesinau (Muldova)

No Andrew, Graham sad

There and back again... Well at least as far as Chesinau.
This time my faithful companion has deserted me :-( - see my actual sad face in photo leaving Odessa without Andrew.
The task was to complete 190km today, including two border crossings through the police state of Transnistria. As a result, I started early and promptly got very lost on the outskirts of Odessa for two hours in heavy morning traffic. Things were not going well.
Cycling solo as a "lone wolf" is something to which it is difficult to get accustomed. A combination of not being able to share experiences in the moment en route and having to face all the headwinds alone was proving difficult, even within the first few hours. But with steely determination, I reached the Ukraine-Transnistrian border. In thus direction I got the full shakedown by the border patrol guards. With a few phrases like "dollars, euros", "you bring money into country?" and "this is very bad", they were looking for me to offer a bribe to speed up the process. Refusing politely and using my bike as evidence that I had no money, after 45 minutes I was through, albeit somewhat frustrated by the delay.


Gate-crashing Raufs birthday

Wine + Vodka = roudiness

Google maps had directed me to the promising-sounding M14 road bypassing Transnistria and reducing 5km immune journey. My suspicions were aroused by the dearth of cars using this road, but I proceeded to the border. At this point, a tank, barricade and three camouflaged soldiers with assault rifles convinced me that once again, google may have miscalculated. They were pleasant but insisted that I had to go another 15km south to the border control.

There were also some girls at the party too

At the border between Transnistria and Muldova, I was taken into three separate offices, where they wanted a bribe. Sticking to my guns, I told them about my limited cash situation. This sort of questioning seemed quite normal for them and they were quite overt around other guards. It's pretty crazy. All this delay meant that as the sun was setting, I had 60-70km to go to Chesinau.
30km from Chesinau a most unlikely encounter happened. A guy jumped out of a car and requested me to stop. Happy for the break, I stopped and started chatting with him. He is a friend of Victoria, who we had met a few days previously in Chesinau. Over coffee in a nearby bar, he (Ilea) told me about his cycling treks. My presence had piqued the curiosity of the others in the bar and I was invited to join them. Rauf was having a 30th birthday party and we partied until the early hours with wine and vodka. This ended a day on a real high note and some impromptu Irish dancing.

Fame! Przymsil

Our interuption of a German class

Trying to sell our maps of Poland

Www.zszoi.edu.pl/index.php?f=184&i=1

At least throughout Poland!

Photos taken for the school's website in Przymsil.


Get to bring our steeds into school

Chisinau кішіенев ------------------ Tiraspol тірасполь (Transnistria)

Pocahontis aka Suzanna... Tiraspol

But you dont understand... i"m Batman^^

Breaking through the border into Transnistria. Probably not heard of this weird state: the state that practically nobody recognises as a state. It's in the northern part of Muldova and stretches approx 20km across and maybe 70km long. It's allegiance is with Russia and it has it's own currency, borders and government. Also, we have been forewarned about the corruption by border guards.
So it is with trepidation that we approach the border. Fortunately, we fill out a small form and through the border without hassle, the guards shaking their heads in disbelief at our bikes. Maybe they think we are too crazy or too poor to shake down properly. Tally-ho.

Military drill at sports day

Susanna (our Tiraspol host) brings us to our private apartment, while she stays with her parents closer to the city. She brings us on a biking tour of Tiraspol. Russian styled buildings and statues dominate the city. We find out about the founding of Transnistria in the memorial park and that the bank machines only dispense US dollars ($100 minimum) and Russian rupees. Most people don't use the banks here and tumbleweed rolls by, when I visit a bank, where six cashiers await my 10€ money exchange. Skip the party boat that ferries between Bender and Tiraspol.
Early start next morning, as Susanna has invited us to a sports day at her school. Not a typical sports day for me, as it is set in a forest and involves all sorts of weird party games inwhich all the classes compete against each other. For example, having to use a pair of binoculars to follow a track made with string, choreographed singing, army marching manoeuvres. Thankfully, we were allowed compete and help Susanna's class to a much-needed victory. For my part, I helped in an egg-and-spoon race, where you have to eat the egg at the end. Veganism notwithstanding.

Tiraspol ------------------- Odessa (Ukraine)

Jazz aka World festival in Odessa

Final stage of the journey for Andrew and it's a comfortable stretch, with only the slight anxiety of missing the 24 hour Transnistria deadline to be out of the country. We actually miss the deadline by 20 minutes but nobody seems to care. Back in Ukraine, the roads deteriorate but it's a straight road to Odessa.

Julia is really that shiney that it washed out this photo

On arriving in Odessa, we find out that two of our prearranged hosts are unable to host us. Thankfully, Fredericke comes to our rescue and we get brought back to her place. This means that we have not had to use the tent during our entire journey. A sign of the generosity of spirit in all the lands we have passed through. She is unable to show us about the city, but tells us of the highlights, which we visit next day. We visit the stairway that was filmed in Battleship Potemkin: iconic. Then look about the shopping district. Finally, we get to laze on one of the beautiful beaches and enjoy a swim in some of the clearest seawater I have seen. It feels like a fitting end to our long journey together: a definite destination with a chance to relax a few days before we part company.
Cook tortilla for Fredericke and enjoy a bottle of wine in the evening. It is very relaxing staying here but my thoughts turn to my epic journey in two days time.
Next day, rain stops our day 2 at beach but get to go to the Market then meet Julia, another couchsurfer, who gives us an informative critique of Odessa. Everything from the poor construction of "mother-in-law bridge" and the sex tourism here, to the lacklustre historical buildings. Also highlighted the desire of many to get a visa in order to leave the Ukraine.
The ever-generous Andrew decided to buy me a ticket to the Odessa Jazz Fest for my birthday. Yet again, we have got to a place right on time for something cool. It seems more than coincidence at this point. Asea Sool just rock the party - imagine Kate Bush, Axel Rose, Jonsi and lots of gypsiness all rolled into a singer. And then some Russian hippy friends sing some reggae in Russian.

Iasa ---------------- Chernivsi (Muldova)

View from our 15th floor apt

This part of the trek is where vital pieces of the route planning are highlighted by our local Sherpa, Andrei. He not only tells us that we need to go in a large zigzag manner (looks like a large M) to Chernivsi, but cycles with us 50km to ensure we leave Romania and have no problems at the border. As we have a delicious breakfast in our bellies, as well as some schnapps, we ride well and arrive in Chernivsi at 20:30; approx 7.5 hours biking.
Meet our host, Ramin, and enjoy a beer and sandwiches with him and his brother and his friend. Muldova hospitality matches all the other places on our voyage.

Hello, Mr. Ambassador

Next day, we look around the city: old part, government buildings, parks, US embassy (Andrew is homesick) and sweet shops. We meet with another couchsurfer, Victoria, and her friends. Head back to her place where we get free haircuts, which come with our choice of free shirts! Looking fantastic, we head out to THE bar of Chernivsi - EliPlli - with Victoria and friends. She is really well connected with all the movers and the shakers and soon we are talking with people from various backgrounds including sustainable agriculture and lawyers. I am informed that I am now officially the fourth Irish person in Muldova. We are also invited to parties in Odessa and Chernivsi in the coming days. Baga-mali! (Pump it up!). Also told by many people not to give bribes to the border security guards to Transnistria (our next destination).
Unfortunately, have to skip karaoke this time, due to an early start the next day for Ramin and us.

Romanesti (Romania) --------------- Iasi (Muldova)

Hangin. with Andrei

Another long journey (140km), but enjoying the beautiful countryside landscapes that Romania provides just about makes up for my aching legs. A break in the endless journey gets us talking, well attempting at least, to some gypsy kids who provide us with water from a nearby well.
We arrive an hour after dusk in our new home-from-home, chez Andrei. An amazing sumptuous feast awaits us, aubergine paste, fried potatoes and bread. Andrei explains the lack of meat is due to a religious holiday - no problem! There are three places set for supper but only two of us are eating. Andrei explains the third place is to represent the family. We get to eat for three, so. PS: there is a vineyard in the large back garden for wine producing.
Andrei's family are great - he has one brother (Michal) and sister (Anna) and despite language difficulties with his parents, we get by, especially when the homemade wine is opened.

Breakfast feast

Iasa castle

Next day, after a wonderful breakfast outside with the family, Andrei shows us about his city - the university, an 200 year old Romanian house belonging to a poet, the synagogue, the park, the bar (Joker), and finally the castle. Learn about the corruption that allowed a modern mall to be built right beside the castle and how all the young people in Romania seems to have good English due to the Cartoon Network. Very amused looking at students avoid an archway near the university that is meant to cause one to fail all exams if one walks under it.

Soviet styled cinema

Another amazing dinner, this time with the whole family present - a new variety of aubergine paste: this time with red bell peppers and tomatoes. Man, I gotta find out how his mom makes this! She bottles it for the winter and deprives her family of a bottle, by packing one with our packed lunch the next day. Learning all about untrustworthy gypsies from Andrei's father and Romanian history, politics and lifestyle from hanging with Andrei and his brother.

Our escort from Iasi

More homemade red wine and a type of schnapps gets everyone chatting until late.
On checking the route to our next destination in Muldova (Chisinau), we get bad news from our resident expert, Andrei. We must make a huge detour, as our planned route will not be possible unless we were a train. Instead of approx 90km, our route will be 160km. My legs grumble a bit, but feeling supercharged by the combination of the relaxed atmosphere in Andrei's house and the bountiful delicious food.
Next morning, at breakfast outside we are served borsch - we are explained that this is not usually a breakfast dish, but Andrei's mom wanted to show us how it is done in Romania. It's a vegetable broth with noodles, bit contrary to expectations, it is not made with beetroot. Very slow to say goodbye to our Iasa family and don't get on the road until after midday. I get an invitation to return on my way back to Bacau in a week's time. Can't wait.

Chernivisti ------------- Romanesti (near Suceava)

View from the fornt porch

George - CS Romanestri celebrity

Another border crossing already. Au revoir Ukraine. Will be only a few days until next we meet. An on into Romania. Customs a breeze, bypassing all the car queues, to turned heads. Mean headwinds and hilly terrain impede our rapid progress to a village near Suceava - Romineava.

When peanuts simply are not enough

Meet George in a petrol station and head to his house. He is hosting another couchsurfer and has given up his whole house to all of us. He will be staying with grandma. Such generosity and self-sacrifice.
Wonderful landscapes, especially when we climb the hill behind the house at sunset. Some beers in the local with some local lads. They demand photographic evidence that we actually came here by bike. Shame we'll miss the football game the next day. Next time, lads.

Kolomyia ------------- Charnitri

Our most excellent host Pasha

Not the longest of cycles (75km or so) but the Ukrainian air quality is getting to us. Trucks and 1970's cars whizz by spewing out noxious thick clouds of smoke and the wind helps force it down into our hard-working lungs. This is the only part of Ukraine that I won't miss.

Nightclubbing

Arrive in Charnitri after an epic final battle with a monster of a poorly cobbled hill, onwhich the city is located. Cycling in the cities of Ukraine is becoming a bit of a hazard to our bicycles health and possibly a vertebra or two. Meet up with Pasha (CS host for our stay here) and later that eve head off to watch Ukraine vs England match - ever-watchful of any chance to eat more food along the way. Eventually find food, beer and a TV and settle down to the game (1-1).
Pasha brings us on a walking tour of his city, highlighting the theatre, market squares and the main pedestrian street. Not one McDonalds in the city as it is "too expensive".
Go to a nightclub that evening and stay until the early hours, just to prepare for the journey in the morning. 

Cherche ------------ Kolomyia

Hunter S Thompson

Eggs-cellent

Long days voyage ahead. 130km through mountainous and poor quality roads. But we are up for it until we get "google lost" in the Ivano-Frankovitch suburbs. Arrive in Kolomyia later than expected and, after sprint finishing the last few km with the locals, are collected by Vysal and then chase his van through the streets of Kolomyia to his house.
Once again, our hosts have not only cooked us a lavish banquet but also waited for us to eat. Vysal and his wife have invited their French teacher and her husband to dinner - a mixture of d sausages, roasted chipped potatoes and chopped salad, all washed down with several rounds of plum whiskey, made by Vysal's father. The conversation is held in French and English.

Scarey traditional dolls

Egg abacus

Next morning, once again reluctantly refusing a request to stay longer, we visit some of the sights of the city with Vysal by bike. Egg museum and churches (orthodox and orthodox-catholic - for those who want a shorter mass time ie 3 hours vs 1 hour) are on our itinerary. Not enough time for the anthropology museum this visit.

Lviv ---------- Cherche (Черче)

Left Lviv at 15:30 - latest start yet. Despite a valiant effort to get as far as possible and reduce the temptation to return to Lviv, we manage only 65km before nightfall decends.
No Couchsurf planned for the evening, so armed only with one sentence in Ukranian saying "we are biking from Berlin to Odessa and need some place in your garden to pitch our tent", we search out places to stay. Andrew gets lucky in a bar where Milos welcomes us home. The villagers of Cherche have practically no English, French, German, Magalagasi or Irish, so we use lots of hand gestures to communicate. Milos is very drunk and his wife seems dubious about what he has invited back with him. The mayor, who shows us his American passport, invites us to his house also, but to avoid disrespecting Milos, we decide to stay in his more humble abode. To this, he gives numerous hugs and kisses and his wife cooks us pasta and soup for dinner. No language barrier exists after some vodka. X

Przymsil ---------- Lviv (львів)

Yes, we are finally crossing another border after approx 1000km across Poland. Heard some stories about the long waiting times (6-8 hours) at the Polish-Ukranian border but Pete has told us the secret. Don't queue with the cars at Medica but just hop off bike and non-chalantly saunter through the pedestrian controls. Easy eh? Yes, but with an Irish passport the passport control officer decides that 20 minutes examining every page with a microscope is required. Shesh. Eventually get stamped and get onto Ukranian soil.
We are impressed by the difference in building style on this side of the border and en route to Lviv. It's much more typically communist style shops and houses, with people harvesting potatoes by hand from their small farms.
The road to Lviv is better than expected and quite suitable for biking, with the cars, trucks and soviet-style relics being courteous and a wee bit curious of us oddities on the road.
Totally lost in Lviv and our host (Marta) comes to collect us and bring us to her house. Just like the Polish hospitality, Marta has prepared food for our arrival, despite having spent the last 12 hours managing her two stressful pharmacies.

Calibrating compass-watch

She tells us all the essentials of Ukranian lifestyle: corruption, bent cops, corruption, Russian plans to overthrow Ukraine, corruption, salaries, corruption, bribing officials, corruption, visa woes and CORRUPTION.

A night at the ballet

Next morning we cycle into town on the tail of Marta's car. The cobblestones and terrible roads and sidewalks in the city centre show us why nearly everyone here who has a bike has a front suspension mountain bike. We visit one of Marta's pharmacies and meet her dad. Marta shows us about the churches and sights in the city before having to go back to work. Then we go up to the high castle to have an overview of the city. We visit the food market then buy some clothes by the kilo so that we can be respectably dressed when we meet Marta and Olga for the ballet in the evening.
The ballet, "unavailing carefulnesses", has a full piece orchestra and my first experience of live ballet. The ballet lacked any tension and drama but maybe all ballet is like this?
Lviv centre has come alive in the meanwhile and people salsa dance, play chess and protest against the Russian language. We take a drink and meet up with Liotr, another couchsurfer who wanted to meet us and then enjoy some Ukranian singing on the streets.
We have decided join Marta and her dad on a cycle to a monastery the next day so we head home early to cook dinner.

Food for Ukrainian kings

Next morning, not feeling well and decide that I cannot go to the monastery as planned. I stay in bed and talk to Olga for the afternoon until the others return from trip. They have decided to return even though they had planned to stay in the monastery overnight. All for one and one for all.

Varenica production line

Fit as a whistle on their return and Andrie, Andrew and I hop on our bikes and go to the Lviv observatory and lake. Learn about the Beverly Hills part of Lviv and more Ukrainian culture. "Slava Ukra-ane".
Varenicas (traditional dumplings) for dinner but first we gotta make 'em. Marta, Olga and Andrie show us the ropes and soon a production line is formed, churning out two varieties: potato, onion and cheese, and raspberry for dessert. Learn even more of the "supermen" of Ukrainian history: Robin Shouhavabitch and Stepan Bandara.
Next morning we are meant to part company in the evening-morning time but saying farewell is proving very difficult. We meet the others in town and buy a traditional Ukranian shirt; suitable for winter weddings and war we are informed. After a final dance together, we regretfully really got to go cycling. When next we shall meet? New year's in Berlin, Carpathian mountains in winter, Lviv next year for a monastery weekend? Don't know exactly, but it will happen.

Debica ---------- Przymsil

The ride to Przemsil was a one full of ups and downs... literally. Rolling hills provided a chance to work pretty hard for the 103km ride.
On reaching our destination we found our hosts Aneta and Pete, Victor and Conrad at home waiting for our arrival. Yet again, food was ready for us: soup, potatoes and salad. Delicious. After the kids head off to bed, we start chatting about Ireland (they lived there for 4 years before 2004), American politics and our bike ride.
Early start the next morning, even managing to be all packed and on the road by 9:30. Ante had a brilliant idea to have us as a "show and tell" in the school inwhich she is teacher. So off we go to school. Andrew and I present to several different classes our bike ride, using our maps to illustrate the past and future route. We get a tour of the school by Aneta, who is suitably proud of how developed the school is and the dedication of the teachers. Even get to go to the headmistress' office for a chat. Some fascinating facts about the school: before the final exams the teachers and students sleep over in the school to revise for the exams and chill out a bit; physically and mentally disabled children learn in the same classrooms as other children.

Debica --------- Debrowa

Hangin' around Debrowa

Barely have we warmed up, when we reach Debrowa (approx 35km from Debica). We meet our enthusiastic host Joanna (Ash-a) chilling in the front garden waiting for us to arrive. 

The motherload of all pantries

Joanna lives with her parents on a self-sufficient farm, where everything is organic and produced there. From the wheat that makes the bread to the pickled vegetables, to the poor old bunnies who provide meat in the wintery nights. After the most wonderful perogies (like ravioli, with a potato, onion, cheese centre) for lunch we get to walk about the farm.

I later kill this tractor

We meet Joanna's mom and dad who are busy with various farming activities all day long. Her father lets us have a go on his self-made tractor. After my turn, it has to be retrieved by another tractor from another field. This interview for farm-hand sadly, did not go well.

Ever watchful for flying pigs

A trip about the farm by foot is safer for all involved, unless you come face-to-face with a wild pig. Fortunately, Joanna has brought her friend, who can spy a pig from many miles away, with us to help us watch for wild hogs. After a pig-free evening, we head back and learn a merry polka  from Joanna's dad and mom, while drinking 5 year old apple wine. Joanna's dad reminisces about his 3 years in Ireland and shares his aspiration to make poiteen out of pears. If there is anyone who can make this happen, its this guy!