Dawai Dawai

Tag #41

Wednesday, June 10th.

From Rudnik to Kraimorie

Country: Bulgaria

The proximity to the main road is clearly audible, as I occasionally wake up from the sound of a truck.

Otherwise, I've slept well and leave the graveyard of tires well-rested.

Some have been disposed of here in the forest.

It’s a quick descent towards the sea, which I can sometimes see between hotel complexes, before I turn back into the mountains.

This seems to be the most sensible route, even though I'm taking quite a detour.

The alternative route is only marginally shorter, and cycling is prohibited for a few kilometers. I have no desire to push my bike.

I had similar signs yesterday, but I deliberately ignored them as my route was already set.

The ascents are hefty, and I'm making my way up laboriously.

In one of the villages, I want to refill my water.

The supposed shop turns out to be a community center, but the lady goes around the corner with me and opens the mini market.

The two obligatory guys sitting outside are back as well.

There’s a brief confusion while paying until she recognizes one coin as a Euro.

Bulgarian has not been part of the Eurozone for even half a year, so this currency is still new to the people here.

The higher I climb, the worse the roads get, and soon I'm only riding on gravel.

Maybe one day there will be a proper road, it seems likely.

One can only hope.

Encouraging shouts come from oncoming vehicles, and I even understand the 'Dawai Dawai,' which definitely motivates me.

Then my GPS leads me onto a kind of dirt road.

Unfortunately, there's no alternative because the 'road' goes in the wrong direction.

So, I follow the route.

And it’s getting increasingly difficult.

From the field, I enter the forest, and now I understand why all the forest vehicles I encountered earlier have such big wheels and are so high.

The ruts are abnormal, and everything is extremely muddy; in some places, it's just one big puddle.

At first, I try to ride, but so much mud clings that it becomes too laborious, plus I keep slipping away.

So, I'm condemned to pushing after all.

Damn.

Eventually, I make it, and sweaty, I'm on the other side of the mountain.

Here, the ground gets firmer again, and eventually, asphalt starts to appear cautiously.

I take a break; the view into the valley and at the distant sea is incredible. Sure, I'm high enough in the mountains.

Moreover, I need to get rid of the mud that has collected on the brakes and under the fender, almost blocking the rear wheel.

Fortunately, I find a piece of wire, which I bend to shape, and start scraping it off.

Once the worst is gone, I can tend to my supplies.

The sun shines down on me, the view into the distance is splendid, and the wind carries the sound of cowbells to me.

I'm indeed in the mountains.

I finish writing the text from yesterday, and thus the break turns out to be significantly longer than planned.

Almost two hours later, I continue on.

At least for a short stretch, as something is still dragging.

So, I stop and scrape off more dirt.

I wisely packed the wire.

Interestingly, a lot more comes off than expected.

Now, I finally head down to the sea.

At least I’m getting close and sometimes can even see it between the hotel complexes.

I’m steadily getting closer to Burgas.

The asphalt is smooth, and I’m making good progress for a change.

Over a road that can best be described as a highway.

Two lanes in each direction, separated by a guardrail.

Speed limit is 90, effectively way above that.

However, there is no shoulder.

Full concentration and go.

The city announces itself with the first cyclists, then comes a promenade full of people.

Nice impressions of a bustling port city, but I want to move on quickly.

It’s already evening, and I need to find a camping spot.

After leaving the city behind, I’m lucky on the second attempt and find a path towards the water.

The path is gradually turning into a trail that I can still follow.

Perfect.

Just in time for the sunset, I start setting up my camp, and I enjoy my dinner overlooking the bay of Burgas.

But I’m too high up, and the terrain is too steep for swimming.

Hopefully tomorrow.

Once, I hear people seemingly searching for their dog, but they are far enough away, and I sink undisturbed into my sleeping bag.

Song of the day:

The Toy Dolls - Nellie the Elephant (three years ago today was our wedding celebration)