Day 49: to Görlitz, Germany via Poland (79; 3129)

The last Czech bit was again very satisfying, slow uphill through Hansel and Gretel villages and then a long long downhill with a view out over Poland and Germany. I did finally see a horse and cart but I suspect it was a hippy, rather than peasant, in the driver's seat. 

I stopped for brunch in Hradék nad Nisou where, as the name suggests, I picked up the beginnings of the Nisa (Neisse in German, Nisou in Czech). This river and the Oder which joins it later, will form my path for the next few days. 

This is a funny little corner of the world, where the Czech Republic, Poland, and Germany meet. My brain hurts with attempts at currency conversions and country-appropriate greetings. 

So back now to Deutschland, via a few km of Poland (where the petrol stations advertised their prices in Czech, Polish and US currencies). Despite Poland being the 12th country, I am thinking of referring to this trip as the 'four corners of Germany' route. I'm not sure I set out to see so much of Germany! 

I saw yet more hills this afternoon due to a river path closure - beautiful riding up and along a high ridge of cornfields, but hard work with endless swooping ups and downs.

There are flags flying absolutely everywhere in Germany now. The standard for your car, as well as flying flags from the windows, is to have red yellow and black booties covering the back of your wing mirrors. I'm not actually sure when the next World Cup match is... But Germany is definitely ready for it!

Tired, but with no camping spot in sight, I asked in the tourist info in Görlitz. I was told firmly there was no camping, and then very helpfully found a cheap room at an unusual herberge in a huge gothic house. I'm very happy with the arrangement, but amused to note there is indeed camping marked on the town map that the tourist centre gave me - but it's on the Polish side of the river so presumably invisible to the German tourist info office!

This is an amazing town for architecture (4000 listed buildings!). Blows Cambridge right out of the water, though the old town is strangely quiet this Saturday night, suggesting it's strictly for tourists. 

The headline of the promotional brochure says 'Görlitz: For many simply the most beautiful town in Germany'. I love the modesty / qualification presented by the 'for many'. 

After a cheap and cheerful German supper I strolled back through Poland. The cafés next to the bridge were full and thriving (note to self: eat in Poland), as were the cigarette shops. Differences presumably in tax - also minimum wage and profits? Away from the bridge it is obvious that the German half has had a huge amount of care put into restoration work, which is only just beginning in Poland. Still there are signs showing plenty of EU money flowing across the river so the two will doubtless match again soon.

Day 48: to Hamr ne Jazère (81; 3045)

Due to some poor interpretation of the triangulation of map, reality, and google maps, I've seen a bit more of upper Bohemia than expected today. But it's been fantastic.

For starters, Horace has some shiny new parts. Apart from giving him a good old clean up (probably in self defence!) the nice bike man replaced a chain link and the whole of the rear gear hub (is that what it's called?). How lovely it is to have silent and smooth gears! Yet another resolution - go on bike maintenance course. Although the whole shebang cost about 50 euros and was done before 9.30 this morning so I certainly don't begrudge the cost of expert Czech service.

I am loving the Czech Republic. It seems to me that the biggest irritations of the former eastern bloc states are drunk men and angry dogs, both of which are at a maximum on the outskirts of towns. But the Czech countryside is just beautiful, people are friendly, the young speak English (the older generation, German) and people, not just tourists, seem to be enjoying it - cycling, climbing, hiking. 

Admittedly I've probably been in national park all day. It hasn't been high mountains as such, but lovely old deciduous forest and crazy conical hills and tower-like rock formations. Mixed in with high farmland, lots of small lakes, and odd bits of conifers. Lovely.

The legs feel OK - there hasn't been a lot of great long hills though there's been plenty of gentle uphill all day, and occasional steeper bits. But with judicious use of sugar, and (probably most important of all) the right mentality, I've really enjoyed it.

I am rather off-course to the east, but the well-marked cycle trails will take me back tomorrow I'm sure. The mapping is really super - the biggest issue I have is learning to trust it! 

Day 47: to Melnick (55; 2959)

Rain in the night and thunderstorms forecast, with a warning of flash flooding. So not the best day to be heading into the mountains then!

Cycling out of Prague was surprisingly easy, within minutes I was in a park, then the zoo, then on the green riverside cycle path. This appeared to be part of EuroVelo 7, so that's another one to tick off, though I don't even know which it is! It was also part of the Elbe river route, which I hope to see again in a few hundred km (begging the question why on earth I'm leaving it). 

The Czech cycle maps seem excellent, once I have got to grip with interpreting the key - specifically that 'other cycle path / planned cycle path' doesn't guarantee a lot! I had a hairy hour or so heading along an ever-decreasing path that was clearly just foot access to some climbing rocks on the riverbank. I was feeling a bit foolish for refusing to give up and go back when I was caught by a Swiss couple who were on the same path whilst following the Bikeline Elbe book. So that's OK then!

The other comedy moment was when the very clearly marked cycle route 7 pointed up a very tall spiral staircase onto a bridge constructed to carry gas pipes across the river. Not sure the Czechs have completely cracked this cycle path thing.  I know from bitter experience I can't get a loaded Horace up even a marginally steep ramp, but managed the staircases successfully in two trips (panniers and Horace separately). 

Arriving into Melnick I was a bit conflicted. On the one hand, not so many miles covered, only lunchtime, and this is still the pre-hill part. On the other hand, thunder clouds looming. And on a third hand, my gears have suddenly started slipping and Melnick is the only chance of a remedy for several days.

As usual when undecided, I retired to a cafe. Two minutes into my delicious and unidentifiable soup the heavens opened, and I was escorted indoors. From my indoor table I couldn't see the action but there were some impressive thunderclaps. Decision made: cue an afternoon drinking tea and listening to early 90s soft rock (was there ever a better  era??).

The nice campsite lady, who speaks good English, has pointed me to a nice bike man, who speaks none. So I have entrusted him with Horace and, if I understood his Czech right (!) he's going to give the gears a service first thing tomorrow. 

Melnick is a funny old town, with a glorious main square and a castle. I suspect it heaves with tourists on a sunny Sunday - but on a wet Wednesday it's deserted.

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Yeah that's Horace peaking up from the bottom of the steps.

Day 45: in Budapest

Surely there is no more beautiful city. 

Here's my fact of the day, gleaned from cruising the Danube (which I have done twice - once in the day an once at sunset): they held a competition to design the Hungarian parliament building -and liked the designs that came 2nd and 3rd place so much they built them as well as the winner, on the same square. I just love that.

I spent a fair bit of the day on Margarite island, watching the dancing fountains. It's like a never-ending firework display (without having to crane your neck). Then every hour on the hour they play some music and the fountains perform a routine to it. 

This is my most southerly and easterly point: tomorrow I head north and west. By train! Exciting, and a little bit sad.

Day 46: to Prague by train (10k; 2904)

No matter how well organised the system is, getting a loaded bike on a train is always a faff. The system here was in fact excellent but, mostly because the users don't know how it works in advance, there was faff aplenty. Luckily it wasn't a full train.

I had forgotten the existence of individual compartments in trains. How wonderful they are! Makes you hopeful of sitting next to Benedict Cumberbatch (Parade's End; if you haven't see it, do). Britain should definitely bring them back.

We rolled through the central European countryside retracing my steps back to Bratislava before heading north into the Czech Republic. Because Hungarian, Slovak and Czech all look and sound completely incomprehensible to me (are Czech and Slovak even the languages?) I had very little idea which country I was in or what was going on at any point, though I think we marked each new country with a new set of conductors. Since Prague was the end of the line it didn't matter, and the journey itself was really rather restful. 

The weather is suddenly looking a bit cooler and rainier after this extraordinary hot spell. Tomorrow also starts what I think will be my toughest section, as I head north to Germany. I reckon it's three days, and for days 2 and 3 it's plenty of hills and not a lot of civilisation. Should be beautiful, just hope Horace and I can handle it!

Day 44: to Budapest (80; 2894)

A lovely last day beside the Danube. Hungary seems very different on a Sunday, with tons of cheery cyclists, pedestrians, and families everywhere. And shops are open!

I took two ferries across the river today, both fun if a little overpriced. The first was basically a large floating platform which a small tug pushed around the river. The second a standard, and very busy, roro carrying I should think 12 bikes, plus cars - more than I've seen in days. In between was a lovely cycle path on the north bank (now also Hungary) which was largely smooth and picturesque. Various parts of this, including the hour's wait for the ferry, was back in the company of the Kiwis I met just before the dog attack. Taking the Slovakia route they covered 117k that day with a massive tailwind, reaching 37 kph, and said it was beautiful and plain sailing. Ah well, you win some you lose some!

Coming into Budapest the riverside paths were heaving with endless beachbar set-ups. By happy accident I crossed the Danube too early and ended up escaping all that hecticness and finding impeccable empty cycle paths on the opposite (Pest) side.

In celebration of reaching the farthest point and the goal, if not the end, I have booked myself two nights in a very nice Danube-side apartment.

I can't quite believe I have cycled to Budapest!

Day 43: to Esztergom (101; 2814)

Seems fitting to do my longest (non-British) ride yet on the longest day of the year. It was a corker. 

The first half of the day alternated between reasonable roads and crazy off-road sections with sand, mud, ruts, stones, and/or overhanging branches. Tarmac turning without warning into tiny track and then turning back into paved road 5km later. I stopped a couple of times for Nutella sandwiches - here in strange crescent-shaped rolls - but basically kept my head down and my wheels turning. 

The second half was a complete contrast: this alternated between mad sections of busy, fast road and sections of dreadful juddering mandatory cycle path next to the road. Which I wouldn't have minded except I had, with regret, obeyed the 'no cycles' sign and taken a huge detour off this very same road first thing this morning. 

So with the exception of about 10k of lovely smooth cycle path, it was almost all quite tough going today. But having left before 8 I was into my campsite by 2.30. If Horace were a horse, he would have earned an extra ration of oats today.

Esztergom is a town of decaying grandeur, crowned by a basilica that is the home of the Catholic Church in Hungary, and the third largest in Europe after the Vatican and St Paul's (surely that's going to win you a pub quiz some day). It also looks straight out onto the communist era tower blocks and industry of Slovakia, across the river. Quite the contrast. 

As I climbed up to the basilica, a wedding was starting in the (also quite impressive) church below. The bride entered not to the march of an organ, but to the poignant wail of a single violin which carried a long way through the hot, empty streets.

I spent the evening beside the Danube, watching the sun go down over Slovakia and listening to an acoustic band.

Some Slovakian girls asked me what the time is in Hungary. I told them then realised I wouldn't have a clue if I'd changed time zones, since I haven't had a fixed appointment for weeks. Sign of a successful sabbatical!