125 km to a campsite near Senec, Slovakia.

Another oppressively hot and sunny day. I was awakened at 5:00 by garbage trucks that chose that time to empty all the campsite dumpsters. Today's ride was almost completely flat through farmland on both the Hungarian and Slovak sides of the border. I had decided to go to Austria through Slovakia and the Czech Republic because the roads are superior in those countries and the prices are lower. When I did cross the border I felt immediately at ease, as if I was returning to something comfortable and familiar. The border crossing itself was unusual in that there were no border guards at all on the Slovak side. I simply walked right through.

Despite the heat, the cycling today was easy and pleasant because of the flat terrain. The only real problem was the familiar one of finding food. The grocery stores are nearly useless and the food kiosks and restaurants are usually surrounded by shirt-less, rowdy and inebriated men (one curious thing about Czechoslovakia, relative to the other eastern European countries, is that almost all the men are shirtless, no matter how obscene the physique--and there are a lot of flabby men here). I don't think that I am being paranoid by avoiding these gatherings.

I had intended to do a short day today and camp at Diakovec, but could find no campground there, so set out for Senec. The campground at Senec was a zoo. Set in a flat, treeless area beside a polluted lake, there were about 5,000 campers in an area that could comfortably camp about 500. My tent stakes were within inches of the tents that surrounded me on all sides. The campground also had "bungalows" which were little more than plywood boxes about 6 feet by 8 feet in size.

The campground receptionist was astonished to find an American staying here, and I was the object of intense curiosity when a large group of people gathered around to gawk. Once inside the campground I was surrounded by thousands of people clad in flimsy bathing suits that looked as though they were made of saran wrap. Since most of the men were pot-bellied and the women flabby, these outfits weren’t exactly enticing.

I had a "hamburger" and watermelon for supper, before settling into my tent for an uncomfortable evening. The hamburger consisted of an unidentifiable meat (if it was, in fact, meat) and was topped with cucumbers, cabbage and sauce. It was micro-waved, as are all kiosks foods including pommes frites, but was nonetheless edible.

Just as I had settled in for the night, a spectacular light show began. It had clouded over and the wind had violently picked up. Soon there were thunder and lightning flashes, with lightning strikes within a half mile of the campground. I had never seen lightning of this intensity. These were not lightning bolts, but rather gigantic sparkler like flashes with feelers going in every direction and covering the entire horizon. The storm lasted about an hour and another one passed through about midnight. It was bizarre, and a bit frightening, but it did mute the campground noise as everyone scurried for shelter.

CZECH REPUBLIC

107 km through Smolenice and Borsky Mikulas to a campground at Breklan.

By morning the storm had cleared, and it was another hot, sunny and calm day. The heat was ennervating as I rode through flat farmland and gently rolling forested areas. The stretch between Plovecky Mikulas and Mikulason was a nice forested area which, unfortunately, showed evidence of the effects of acid rain. I passed through a heavily fortified area near the Austrian area (i.e., lots of bunkers and small fortifications). However, there were no soldiers around and they appeared to be abandoned.

I stopped early, around 4:00, because of the heat. The campground receptionist was friendly and, as has become the norm, was astonished that an American would camp there. I tried to find a site with Dutch or Danish campers nearby (because they speak English and are generally quite sociable) but there were none, so I pitched my tent between two groups of Czechs. I was in a sociable mood today, but neither of them showed any inclination to talk to me--in fact, one group was downright hostile in their glaring at me.

After pitching my tent, I went and took a shower. When I got out of the shower, the sky had turned black and, within minutes, the deluge hit. I was extremely fortunate that I had decided to camp early. If I had been caught in this downpour I, and all of my gear, would have been thoroughly drenched.

I am not sure whether I have crossed the border into the Czech Republic yet. I am fairly certain I have, but if so, no border crossings have yet been set up.

August 2, 1992

94 km through Lednice and Kolni to Olbrankostel campsite.

A very hot sunny day. Today the heat totally sapped my will. Every turn of the crank was a struggle, and the ride was consequently joyless. Stopped at my campsite for the night at 3:00 because I was unable to go any further. I took a marvelous cold shower, but began sweating as soon as I had dried myself off.

I feel so enervated that even reading is too much of a demand. I am listening to a paid religious program on Radio Moscow. Some guru (sounds like the Bhagwhan) says he will tell you the "absolute truth" if you send $11 (and the announcer says "eleven US dollars") to some address in Osaka, Japan.

I am feeling more than a little misanthropic this evening. I find it hard to comprehend why anybody would spend a vacation in one of these campsites. We are packed into an open field and surrounded by a cacophony of noise. I would guess the attraction to the Czechs is the social interaction, and the opportunity to get drunk. Unfortunately, because of the language barrier, and my own reluctance, I do not really participate in the party atmosphere.

August 3, 1992

108 km through Vanov and Stavonice to Trebon Campground.

Sunny and brutally hot. Sweated profusely today when climbing even the most modest inclines. Now at 7:00, and after a shower, I am sweating again waiting for the sun to drop below the horizon.

Awoke about 3:00 a.m. with what has become a recurring dream. The gist of the dream is that I am lost and have no idea where I am. When I awake it usually takes me several minutes to re-orient myself. While I would not call this dream a nightmare, it is irritating and makes me extremely uncomfortable for those few minutes after waking.

Today I followed the Austrian border along mostly rolling farmland. The one exception to this pattern was a totally unexpected, and utterly spectacular descent into Vranov. I had been cycling along on flat land when I entered a forested area, turned a corner, and was suddenly on a steep two kilometer downhill. The village of Vranov soon appeared below; a colorful town on the banks of a river with a fairy tale castle on a steep crag directly opposite the road I was on. I stopped at a grocery store in Vranov which had a line of about 15 people waiting to get in. After half an hour this line had not gotten smaller so I continued on.

I could recognize where Austria began even though I was at least a kilometer from the border during most of today's ride. The Czechs, who were collectivized, have a mono-culture, with fields of wheat which stretch for miles. By contrast, the Austrians had small, individual holdings with alternating crops. The difference was striking, and it was thus quite easy to determine where the border lay. This area was covered with hundreds of pillboxes and other military fortifications on the Czech side. They were all deserted now, with no evidence of any military presence.

I had another problem with food today. I brought several of the tasteless and stale sticks that pass for bread and some "Edam" cheese. This was the first cheese, other than packaged processed, that I'd had in Czechoslovakia. Supplemented by some bitter chocolate, this was the only food I had until I arrived at the campground. At the campsite I had Schweinekotlett mit Kartoffel (pork chops and potatos), one of my customary restaurant meals at the German oriented campgrounds. When eating in the Czech restaurants I generally order gulyas met knedliky (goulasch with dumpling bread). While these meals are filling, they are not particularly tasty, except for the knedliky. I am looking forward to Austria and real cheese and bread and, most of all, good pastries. I've not had an edible pastry since I left Germany. I found some real Coke this afternoon, and that was a treat. The Czech colas taste like battery acid.

At 7:00 I arrived, exhausted and famished, at the campground. I spoke German to the manager and he told me that the campground was completely full, and that the next campground was 20 km distant. I was crestfallen, and so the manager seemed to be sympathetic. He asked if I spoke English, and when I said yes, proceeded to tell me, in English, about his travels in the United States. He then told me that, if I could find a space I could camp there for the night. I then wound my way through the teeming mass of people and tents, found a bumpy, wasp infested site behind one of the bungalows, and returned to the office. The manager then said that he felt "sorry" for me, and that he would only charge me 70 Korun. As I was walking out, he said "watch your bike carefully. There are a lot of thieves around here."

After I set up my tent an English couple (who arrived just after me) set up their tent near me. Steve and Anna invited me over to their tent for tea and we ended up talking until past midnight. They told me that they had only been charged 45 Korun to stay the night--so I guess the only thief I had to watch out for was the manager himself.

Anna spoke Polish and Russian and told me that they had been traveling regularly to those countries for the past several years. They said that the changes there have been dramatic, and that every time they go they notice vast "improvements". Anna said that, when she was in Poland a few weeks previous, she had been stopped by the police for going the wrong way on a one way street. They did not have documents for their car, and so the officer demanded that they pay him 1.5 million Zlotys. When they protested that they did not have that much money, he asked how much they did have. They said 300,000, which the officer then confiscated, leaving them a receipt for 200,000. Anna said that, while in Poland, she had met a Russian Physics professor who was financing a mountain climbing trip in Poland by selling soccer balls on the street.

There is a scum-covered pond located at this campsite, in which a number of Czechs are swimming. This is typical of what I have seen--some of the ponds I have seen people swimming in have an odor that even I, with my limited sense, can smell.

August 4, 1992

75 kilometers through lucenice and Veslislavice to a campground outside Frymburk.

A warm, muggy day with a hard rain for about 3 hours in mid-morning. Because of the heat and rain I was either sweating profusely or freezing. Despite the low kilometers, this was a very difficult day of cycling and I did not get to my campsite until past 5:00. I did spend two hours crunched in a tiny bus stop at Cesky Kranlov while it was raining.

There was a great deal of climbing today, including an unridable 20% grade coming out of Vetrini. I also encountered very heavy traffic, primarily speeding German tourists, on a narrow road between Cesky Krumlov and Frymburk. It was a trying day, both physically and psychologically.

The campsite I am at does not have showers, so I have had to be content with a sponge bath in my tent. But it is located in a forest spot on the shores of a lake, so I have shade and a bit more privacy than I have been used to. Below me, on the shore, the Czechs are crowded in like sardines. They must like it that way. Another plus for this site is that there is no disco--maybe I can get some sleep.

Tomorrow I will be out of Eastern Europe and back in the west and "civilization". I have not formed a very good opinion of Eastern Europe (although this would probably not be the case if I spoke any of the languages). Generally, I found the people to be xenophobic with an ingrained habit of taking advantage of foreigners who are vulnerable because they cannot speak the language. This is so widespread that it is disgusting, even if understandable given the wide disparity in income between east and west. It seemed that only in the cities was I approached by people in a friendly manner. In the countryside I was usually gawked at and, even when I made attempts to be friendly, received little evidence of friendliness in return. I found the towns and villages to be, with a few exceptions, extraordinarily dreary and lifeless places. The factories were blights on the landscape, and almost every town and village had one. All in all, I certainly would not want to live anywhere in Eastern Europe, even though life has loosened up dramatically with the fall of communism.