By my count I encountered 40 fully-loaded cyclists today. Not surprisingly, the majority of those headed in the opposite direction, but I cycled behind seven Germans also headed out of Budapest for 10 km or so before they stopped for the third time. I found myself marginally faster than them – yeay, I’m faster than someone!
While starting on the Buda (west) side of the Danu and planning to stay there, EV6 eventually routed to the Pest side, and then back. The roads looked the same to me on the map, and changing back and forth probably added 10 km, but I accepted that guidance, which provided close to 70 km today on well-maintained cycle path, mostly off the beaten path. From the unplanned Pest side, I spotted this beauty of a ruin, on the other side, located midpoint between bridges. Given the location and elevation I have the ruin a pass, but not without regret!
Crossing the Danu twice meant two ferries, the same number I’ve failed to find so far. For the record, a functioning ferry crossing looks something like this:
A tugboat pushed the second ferry, a barge with no engine, just like a kayak ferries across the river, angling with the current and nudging. I wondered if the barge has ever gotten away, as the swift current would lead the tugboat a merry chase.
In England the SUSTRANS route (a rails to trails project) leads through the back hill and countryside, but with poor signage I occasionally lose complete track of where I was. The GPS solves the problem of knowing exactly where I am, but I neglected to remember to occasionally route myself into town for supplies. Fortunately I’d bought supplies as I left Budapest, but shopping added itself to the agenda tonight.
The only real issue encountered today was the continuing headwinds. Following the twists and turns of the Danu at least provided occasional relief, but at the 90 km with the winds wearing me down I stopped. The Danu turns the center of Hungary into one long beach. An hour long nap in the shade on the beach along the side of the Danu made a big difference, but I still decided not to add another 25 km, and stop at the planned campground. At least seven other cycle tourists camped here as well.
The mosquitoes must punch a clock like Ralph E. Wolf and Sam Sheepdog. Sitting outside the tent during the day the mosquitoes leave me along. Then, at exactly dusk, they attack. I killed three in as many minutes and retreated to my tent for the night.