zoltan's

After two-three weeks travel I am writing this sitting at my parents’ house in Hungary. I have too much to tell you about and I don’t feel like writing a lot. I went through Marseille, St Tropez, the Alpes, Milan, Venice, Slovenia and Budapest. I’ve had the best and worst rough camping experience, slept with scorpions and venomous vipers, crossed 2000m mountain passes without a working front brake, seen the highest peak in Europe, soaked to the bones day-long and broke down with the bike countless times.

I won’t write about everything, only the most exciting parts. When I was leaving Ruffepeyre, France my front brake lever broke… I went around to get a new part, but it was too hard to find so I glued it, waited a day for it to set then went on to Marseille. I already forgot about it when about 500 miles later, just after crossing a 2100m mountain pass it snapped again when I was parking at a shop. Long story short, I superglued it and cable-tied it again and went on happily using only the rear brake. In a bike shop in Briancon they phoned around and found me a new part in Grenoble but I had to do 120km in less than two hours through a 2000m pass and quite twisty mountain roads without proper brakes. Of course I got there and after I had brakes I could fully enjoy the Alpes… I slept at around 1800m on the roadside and the next day I’ve seen a bit of Italy, crossed the Col d’Iseran (2760m) and other places, seen the Mont Blanc, then ended up at the Lago Maggiore…. it was a great day.

The next one was the most challenging so far. Early in the morning I woke up to heavy rain and it wasn’t going to stop, so I had to pack up with all my stuff still being wet and decided to go towards Milan, hoping for better weather. I didn’t get far and the troubles started… one of the pistons stopped and finally the bike gave in. After five minutes messing with the screws on the carbs it started again but it stopped every ten minutes until I almost gave up near Novara. I had to leave it under a shopping centre’s roof to dry out, drank a coffee and it went again for a while. In Novara a mechanic suggested that it must be the spark plugs… got me new ones and yeah, off I went again no probz… until it started raining
Anyways, the rest of my day went on like that… sitting on the side of the motorway for five-ten minutes in a rainstorm waiting for the fucking bike to start wasn’t fun… and I did it until I got to near Trieste. Because all my luggage, clothes and camping gear was wet, I decided to afford the luxury of sleeping in a hostel (30 bobs).

The morning then was better and I made it to Celje, Slovenia with only two break-downs… I wanted to have a coffee with my ex-flatmate from Ireland, Matej and his brother and the brother’s wife, Dejan and Natasa. It went so well that i stayed for three days, talked, ate, drank and had a great time. After the brilliant transition from Western to Eastern Europe, I was then ready to go to Budapest, where I helped with preparations and enjoyed the photo exhibition of my friend Mozes Zimanyi.

So that’s all in a nutshell. I am working on a few short stories and poems… and a surprise, hence the lack of motivation to write the blog.

Also, I am trying to figure out how much the bike service will cost (new tyres, brake pads, chain and sockets, oil change, finding out why it brakes down, etc)… as it turns out, prices here are crazier than in Ireland. I changed the chain and sprockets today but the mechanic refused to fix the engine… he said that it’s a waste of money trying to repair the good old bike. Not a good sign.

Anyways, I am hoping to post some photograms as soon as I set up a darkroom and got the chemicals… together with some stories.

Keep in touch,

So where have I been in the last few days? I’ve seen the Tour de France close up, hit a pedestrian, broke down a few times, got soaked in the mountains, got dried out in the Spanish desert, got ripped off on the Costa Brava and been amazed by the castles of the Eastern Pyrenees. Where should I start?

I left Boussan on the 20th to go to my next HelpX place in Aveyron some 200km away. By the time I got down from the mountains and in to Saint Girons, I was sure that I would take the scenic route and that I might be a bit late in the end. So I headed west and stopped in Castillon-en-Couserans for lunch (baguette, cheese and sausages as usual). I climbed up to a church, which I didn’t bother to photograph and I saw a castle in the distance which I didn’t visit. These things will have to wait until I’m old and patient enough, at the moment I’m not a great tourist. I had the itch so I sat back in the saddle and went on to get closer to the high mountains and went up in a random valley through Sentein until I felt I was close enough … then turned around
I then crossed Col de Portet d’Aspet and started seeing the marks on the road, messages to different teams and people in the Tour de France.. I was catching up with the caravan obviously. I went through Luchon, only stopped in the Lidl to stock up on sausages and cheese, then passing the Col de Peyresourde (1569m) I rolled down to Arreau.

Arreau city centre
From the doubled number of caravans and cyclists on the roads I knew that I was going in the wrong direction (into the crowd) but I just didn’t care. One of the best roads I have ever seen was the one leading up to Col d’Aspin (1849m). Narrow, beautiful surface and with fairytale trees on the side, had a view on 3000m peaks and it just went on and on for half an hour. Of course I am making videos of all these places but they are too big to upload… you will need to be patient and wait until I get to some major city with good internet connection.

Col d’Aspin
By the time I got to Saint Marie de Campan, I was in the middle of the Tour de France madness. Old people drinking tea in front of their luxury mobile homes on the side of the road, even older people cycling in latex suits making me to throw up and to ruin my new my helmet, drunk Dutch hovering around on the roads, kids running across all the time… it was shit. I got so annoyed I started my own GTA style adrenaline rush rampage. I thought I could cross Col du Tourmalet (2115m) and I was overtaking caravans, cyclists, caravans overtaking cyclists, cyclists overtaking caravans that are overtaking pedestrians and a cyclist at the same time… and one of these moves didn’t work out too well. A caravan was overtaking somebody, I was overtaking him and pedestrians walked happily in the middle of the road on my left… so to avoid collision with the caravan I hit a guy with my left handlebar and the luggage.. they were shouting and whistling after me but of course I am not a gentleman and I had no intention to stop. The only problem was that in a few hundred meters I reached the point where the police build barricades to prepare the road for the next day’s Tour de France. I quickly turned around and managed to get by my chasers…
The question remained how will I get to the other side of these mountains. Unfortunately there was only one way, I had to go down to Lourdes then back up. The bike didn’t like the idea and it let me down on the circular road around Lourdes. It just statred spitting and struggling then stopped. I checked everything, tried to restart, nothing. Tried again and again then it started and worked no problem… I thought it was carb icing so I just ignored it… until it stopped again 30km later. At that point I started to feel like going over to Spain and get away from France, my bad luck and the mad cyclist crowd. I passed Col du Soulor (1474m) and Col d’Aubisque (1709m) on narrow, wet roads through thicker and thicker mist until I was completely knackered.
I had my jeans and summer gloves on and not the waterproof gear so it was getting very chilly after a while. I just found a little spot in the bushes on the roadside and parked up for the night. It was miserable there, I was dreaming about building a slate roof over the tent… a combination of too much work in the last days and my hope to get through the night without getting too wet.

A thunderstorm has passed leaving me in a mess for the morning, all my stuff was damp and while I was packing up I got even more wet in the rain… so it was time for Espagna! … dry and sunny, I thought. The bike stopped again. Then it started again… then stopped… did this a few times then it worked again. The mountain pass and border with Spain is in a wonderful setting. If I wasn’t so cold I would have stayed there a bit longer (and I wished I camped there the previous night). Surrounded by 2800m peaks, Col du Pourtalet (1794m) is an ideal place to start high mountain hikes, the nearby mountains seemed like easy targets from there.

Col du Pourtalet
Anyways, I was on the lookout for a sunny and warm place not a mountain hike so I started rolling down towards Sabinanigo. On the way I stopped at Santa Elena fort. I then went to Jaca, back to Sabinanigo, over to Huescas, on to Zaragoza and it all went bizarre. I didn’t feel like stopping. Spain seemed like a wasteland, a pile of rocks, one big motorway building site. I realized after a few hundred kilometres that it’s natural, the place is like a desert and everyything is yellow, plae green or red there. I stopped in a few cities trying to play the tourist and get stuck in get interested but it wasn’t my thing so I carried on.

Crossing the Spanish “desert”
I was on the road for so long that I ended up near Alcaniz that night. I camped on a lakeshore away from everything, had a refreshing swim and worked a bit on my harmonica skills. I was suspicious that the place would be ideal for young locals to hang out and sure enough they arrived in the middle of the night, making noise with their cars and lighting at my tent to annoy me. If I got out and argue with them that only ends up bad so I waited an hour or two until they got tired and went away. I fucking hate people.

I started the next day driving down to the seaside, Vinaros. Stopped in Sant Mateu, a town built on a hilltop and fortified with huge walls and gates.

I arrived to Vinaros midday. The city was awful, I hated it from the first moment. Dust, block buildings, cheapskate tourists enjoying their stay on the beach, half of which was a buildings site, everything is expensive and then even more dust. I did my shopping in a supermarket and got out of there. I thought I would camp somehwere on the beach… always wanted to do that after the surfing weekend in Buncrana, Ireland. But that was cold and here it was warm so I thought this would be the best camping of my life. I had to be disappointed. Everything is privately owned all the way along the coast or else just a big pile of shit and not really a plce where you would want to stay. I went through sea resorts, campings, towns then I crossed Barcelona and there was still nothing. To top it up my drive chain got fucked from constantly braking down at high speeds and now I was struggling to get to somewhere where I could have a look at the bike. I didn’t have the energy to deal with it that evening. I finally gave up in Lloret del Mar and paid for a place in a shitty camping to stay with a lot of idiots who were happy as dandy to pay for their shitty place in that shithole. The ground was so hard I could hardly erect the tent and in the morning it smelled like sewers. The chain had a tight spot from the lot of breaking down.. I tightened it up somewhat and am still hoping that it will hold up until I get to Hungary (another few thousand kilometres, so wish me luck).

It was a cold overcast day in Lloret del Mar, sonmething you would hate when you are on holidays. My plan was to go towards Girona, cross the border at Andorra and sleep somewhere near Foix. So I went towards Girona then Angles and arrived to a very nice mountainous region which I didn’t expect to see. From Olot to Ripoll and finally to Puigcerda the roads were getting better and better, I was crossing an 1800m mountain pass over the Sierra de Cadi and the Pyrenees came back to view. It was a great moment and I was pleased to leave Spain behind. Some people I’ve met on the roadside in Spain were very friendly and I am sure I will go back there in the Spring or Autumn some other time but it was just too much for me in the Summer. Through Col du Puymorens (1915m) I entered a greener, colder country… I was back on the road to Ax-le-Thermes and Foix where I have been before. It was both a good familiar feeling and also a sign that I have to keep moving to new places. I stopped by Grotte del Niaux (the cave with wall paintings from prehistoric times) and Chateau du Miglos. Then I visited Chateu du Roquefixade, Foix and went out west to find a place to sleep. I ended up sleeping on the roadside near a lake and I didn’t have any bother from anyone so I was happy.

On the 24th I finally started going towards Aveyron.

Spending a morning in Foix
I had a look at Foix first then Chateau du Montsegur and Grotte de la Frau but it was getting tiresome. I have no real interest in climbing up to high mountains and creeks at the moment. It’s also a problem with the way I secure my stuff to the bike. I can’t lock any of my luggage so I can’t go too far away… and carrying all my valuables and electrics up to a hilltop castle is not an option either. Anyways, the castle will be there for when I am finally older and ready. In Mirepoix city I came across a medieval festival, it was very cool.. I had a browse through the stands, took some photos and sat back on the bike.

Carcassonne was the next stop with it’s monumental castle.. I didn’t really stop to look but it might be worth a trip some other time. Ryanair has cheap flights there…food for thought

To end my story – as it seems I am writing a novel here – in Castres I decided to give my helpx host a call and ask him if it was a problem if I arrived that night.. so I arranged to go there and because I can’t travel in a straight line I wanted to go there through Millau. I didn’t know why but it seemed like a good idea. Well, when I got there I relaised that Millau is the place where the world’s tallest bridge was built.

It’s in a great location, karstic mountains and gorges, caves and stuff. The roads again were brilliant and I enjoyed it so much that I arrived after dark to Aveyron. Now we had lunch, Nicolas explained all about the history of the building (a monatic farm and tower) we are restoring and I am resting a bit.

I took a trip up to the Spanish border this morning. The place is called Col de Pause and it’s about 1500 meters high.

View Larger Map

The roads were properly destroyed or never build in the first place and in the end I was riding off road on a road that was in theory closed. It was some fun! Videos are still impossible to upload until I find a place with fast internet connection but I have two pictures for you to keep you coming back

On the way up..

..and on the way down

I went for a spin today to Versailles, hoping to see the castle and have a walk in the park. In modern Hungarian history Versailles and the “Treaty of Trianon” is one of the most important places/events. Ending the WWI in 1919 a peacy treaty was signed here, meaning that Hungary lost two third of it’s territory and millions of Hungarians (including my ancestors) found themselves living in a foreign country from one day to the other.

Due to strike I couldn’t get into the castle, so I walked around in the garden instead. Maybe an other day I will come back, who knows…

People walking back from the castle’s entrance.

View at the garden behind the castle.