Eastern Europe: leaving Kansas, Dorothy

Very modest, but very pretty countryside buildings belied the bloody recent past

With good WIFI service, it was a late night last night - internet taking priority over the beer for most of us as we tried to upload data from cameras.  Everyone is hoping to have plenty of communication with 'home', and there are lots of blogs or Facebook or Skype to factor in.  Clearly, we’re not on a boozy tour... which is probably as well given the need to ride safely. 

The weather - yes, I'm British, so this is important... was err like home - misty and drizzle.  I only care as it makes the road slick and the choice of rain gear tricky.  Ah yes, the new 'problems' are going to be very mundane I'm afraid - you'd best not read on.

Anyway, I followed Colin and Shirley this morning; and we took the, erm, scenic route in preference to the motorway running parallel to us.  The charming Garmin lady on the Satnav wasn’t amused, but the ride was actually very pleasant and none of us regretted missing a dozen motorway miles.  After the mist burnt off the countryside was very pretty.  Rich soils being tilled by farmers on tractors.  

The tractors seem to get smaller and older the further south and east we go, reflecting the diminishing prosperity I suppose.  It's starting to feel like we're leaving Europe behind, and we're all noticing differences.  It bonds us together, and there's a tangible feeling of growing excitement.

Just to bring us back to Earth with a bump, we had our first road incident: a small spill for Syau Fu, a lovely American woman.  Scratches on her bike and a bruise to her pride, but that was a lucky return after misjudging a gravelly corner.  We were all chastened and eased back on the throttle.  New roads are fun, but they can catch anyone out.  I think we were all happy to re-join the motorway soon after and catch up the others at a pay toll.

At Pozega the pace slowed as we took in towns still pock marked by the last Balkan war - it was only about 8 years ago, and much of the housing has yet to be painted or re-plastered.  For the voyeur tourist, you still see the signs - a sniper nest (church steeple) was riddled with holes.  Hmm, I've not seen that before...  I'm starting to feel very un-worldly wise. 

New farm buildings stand next to ruined shells and broken beams - maybe it's easier to start again than to repair or rebuild.  Or maybe there's something more complex going on here: investment (and ownership) from third parties?   That's not clear and we cruise on, asking lots of questions but not knowing the answers; it's at once familiar and strange.  Touring in ignorance, having done insufficient pre-reading, means I can't see the wood for the trees.  Talking of which, thick forest surrounds the villages, giving the area a slightly intimidating air.  No danger of going cross-country today - the land is reportedly still mined.

At this more gentle pace though, the ride was very pleasant.  People stared, then waved as we chuntered by.  This was either at the unusually large (and obviously expensive) bikes, or perhaps in bewilderment at us riders - often standing tall on the footpegs to ease the numb bum fatigue. 

Back on the motorway towards Nasice, then Pleternica.  The names all look unpronounceable to me, but the Satnav was going for it.  I just listened for Left or Right.

An afternoon of very long, painful motorway followed, and the countryside hills and bends were mostly forgotten in the tedium.  After terrible potholes and some awful driving from the locals around Beograd, we got to our new overnight stop without further rain and parked up in a secure lot underneath a little house.  

We were all quite relieved to be off the bikes.  Things had started to take a twist; we we rapidly leaving our comfort zones.