The man who stares at goats

Life in cruise control. A slower pace on the road and taking my time to immerse myself into the wildest corners and friendliest homes in the Danube region. As you can probably tell, I am leaning on waiting and praying on the Black Sea ferry being up and running next month, rather than making a mad dash through Turkey to get to Georgia, and I am reaping the rewards for it.

Days off midweek, collecting firewood and watching the multitude of stars slowly emerge at night and most importantly, having the opportunity to spend extended periods with people I meet along the journey. This past week has been as good as any on expedition so far and although I am covering a fraction of the distance, I seem to have just as many memorable moments. This brief lull in uphill climbs and pushing out 100km against headwind won’t last forever (and nor do I want to) so I am making hay whilst the sun is shining.

The journey up from Bucharest was pretty rough going. Full of busy roads and dogs doing their very best to chase me into oncoming traffic. As someone who has already stared rabies in the face and won (although no doubt irreparably damaged somehow), the stray dogs of Eastern Europe have been the only things I have feared since witnessing French driving up close. The scuttle of the dogs claws as they chase the bike still gives me shudders in the night and it has taken a great deal of encounters to attune to likely ambush sites. I’ve learnt to cycle directly at them or break sharply if they’re chasing usually does the trick, and failing that just to ensure there’s a pedestrian between it and I as an edible alternative.

The crap roads however have been repaid in full with some of the best places I’ve been lucky enough to call camp. From camping in a wood behind a church (actually not as creepy as it sounds) to sunsets looking out across the Danube. It was in one such spot, near a town called Issacea that I found myself in a slice of paradise with only a shepherd and his flock for company.

With my camping chair out, half my peanut butter sandwich all over my wobbly chassis and catching the last of the day’s rays, I was surprised to see the shepherd approaching me. He was a weather beaten man in his 70s, with the air of someone who had walked the river banks since the emergence of Christ. Although very little of what was said was understood by either party we sat there by the river, both content and in their own little world. I was jolted out of my sturgeon slumber to his moving away and as he did so the most surreal experience happened…. I gave him my only remaining food for the night, a family bag of bbq flavoured crisps (old habits die hard).

To readers of the blog who know me, sharing, let alone handing over my only bag of crisps, is a big ask for me; but with the sun setting and it evident he was spending a night under the stars with no supplies I did what every traveller would….although I do still think of those crisps.

There was something about the shepherd that continued to draw my attention long after he left. With only a small bag and cane as his possessions he looked so content gazing at his flock surrounded by four of the biggest dogs I’d seen yet. The beautiful simplicity to life is often forgotten and in our busy lives plays a back seat to other factors like: social events, eBaying and our jobs. Yet, what this trip has taught me is that you can be just as satisfied with very little as you can with everything. Life on the bike has definitely helped reframe true simplicity for me and it’s something I will try and hold on to when I get back to London and all the madness it will bring.

I was up early the following morning as I had planned to stay a few days with Radu Suciu, a force of nature in the sturgeon world, and his amazing wife Marieta. I packed up took one last look at my bag of crisps, I mean the shepherd, and headed to Telita, about 30km away. I arrived at Radu’s to a place that can only be described as an Eden. The midday heat shaded out by trees of apricot, apple, plum and mulberry. Vines and redcurrants were everywhere, with the bounty of fruit and wildlife only surpassed by their amazing hospitality.

I was thrown into Romanian life from the very get go, learning new recipes, gathering food for dinner as well as learning about some of the herbal remedies that can be used for various ailments. Radu, Marieta and I spoke long into the night about Romanian history, communism and sturgeon over home made pear brandy and wine; and when it became clear I could no longer see straight or think of witty sturgeon puns we decided to call it a night.

Radu and I are to join his old colleagues from the Danube Delta Institute tomorrow in surveying the lower Danube for juvenile sturgeon. I have never seen a wild sturgeon with my own eyes, despite travelling thousands of miles and spent literally years trying to do so. Excited is an understatement, but given how badly sturgeon populations are doing across the globe I am trying not to get my hopes up too much.

I think back to the shepherd and how beautiful simplicity can be. With literally nothing but my bike and the kindness of strangers I have made it to the very edge of Europe, something I only half thought possible. What lays ahead is anyones guess but if the shepherd can be content staring at goats imagine how buzzing I am to hopefully be counting sturgeon.

In search of sturgeon

Newton’s Third Law

One Average Spoke