#EURO 2012 on bicycle 8

English version:

Along Nonexisting Roads After six days, protected by the red/white glasses (The Danish colours) it felt strange to ride out into the world on my bicycle. Denmark's Euro adventure was over and the Danish fans sat in the buses ready to head home. I had not been riding many miles before I stopped at a small grocery store in a village to get breakfast and I had missed the meeting with the locals.Well, I actually planed to visit a ukranian family in Kiev before heading home but the long, straight road stretch on the way to L'viv had already gıven me nightmares. My adventure lust took over the control and guided me to the southeast instead and so I went to Europe's poorest country, Moldova. Hılls became smaller mountains and there were now many miles between the Ukrainian villages. The temperature reached 37 degrees and I tried what we know as "yellow road" in Denmark – smaller mainroad - but it was a bigger challenge: the first part took me through a road full of water filled holes from the night's storm, then a road that melted unter me caused by the ever baking sun and this made my tires completely sticky and greasy too; finally the asphalt came to an end and I found myself on a 40 km. long dusty road through desolate woods. Luckily I had lots of water with me, but it was hard.

In a small town within Horodenka was finally a "restaurant" (ie a table and a fat lady), and I went inside as the bad roads had made me tired... Here I was served Ukrainian dumplings and tea with a couple tablespoons of sugar. The bill was calculated on an abacus and how I ended up standing in her backyard between goats and chickens, I have no ides, but to her it probably seemed obvious that I needed a shower. Her husband procured a bucket of cold rain water and a piece of soap and then they stood there and stared at me while I laughed about thıs peculiar situation and began to wash me here and there. As the scenario was over they wıshed me good luck.

A few days ago, I lost so my bicycle pump. I was shopping snacks in a kiosk and when I came out it was gone. In ten kilometers I thought that everyone around me were possible thiefs - it was terrible to ride in between thiefs. Therefore I imagined that I probably just had forgotten the pump somewhere, then the surroundings appeared friendly again. However I was helpless if İ would have a flat tire and their pumps at these parts of Europe would not fit to my small valves. But you can also isolate yourself from the locals by having all the equipment along with you - before I lost my pump I could handle all problems with the bike myself. Without the pump I now knew that a flat tire would have to include the locals' help and thıs connectıon I found very beautiful. You wıll never be a sensitive traveler if you do not dare to risk.

In Moldavia I lodged myself at Bricini's only hotel as I was in need of wireless internet to write to the newspaper and also here they could speak no English. Not a single word. Not "yes", not "no". I googled some images of Moldavian food and pointed out a few dishes for the waiter. While I ate poor t,chıldren came to me to ask for mnoney but they were quickly chased away by the staff, just like the stray dogs. And so I lost my appetite. I felt sorry.
With connectıon to the outside world through WIFI I arranged a meeting with an English-speaking guy in Balti and if I do not have flat tires I should get there Saturday 23rd of June.

How this continues nobody knows.
It's so nice to be young and immortal. Anyway, at least as long as you survive.

/T-spotter