Rába

Surprised to see drab, grey skys. At least the most was made of the sunshine yesterday. Bizarre mixture of things for breakfast & no rolls to cadge for lunch. Still, a relatively early start. Across the tram and bike bridge which had seated quiet areas half way across & when you think about it as bridges go it is relatively quiet. Even had a guy doing some painting. Once off the bridge the cycle lanes were hit & miss. When resorting to the road, again the shoulder was erratic in quantity to the point werey there was none & the verge was used. Relieved to hit the cycle route. First stop - Gerulata Roman fort. Got there to find it closed. In fairness it did look a little underwhelming. Pushed on towards the Danubiana Modern Art Museum. Not really my thing but the surroundings looked nice. On arrival, again it looked closed but thankfully not. Decided to bite the bullet and ignore the jazz music being piped in. From the roof you got a sense of it almost being an island & it was quite tranquil. A lot of the stuff was a bit pretentious but it was a nice walk / break from cycling. There were some sun loungers down by the river which helped the relaxation. And I learned something - Andy Warhol was of Slovak heritage - his birth name was Warhol's, with both his parents being from Slovakia. Only about 10 miles down 40 to go and the vast majority was straight as a die along the Danube. Sounds idyllic - cycling along the river but it became a little tedious. Little things became the focus - watching the swifts dancing around catching insects. The grasshoppers jumping out of my way. Pings as they hit the spokes & thuds if it was the panniers. One landed on the handlebars - realised its mistake and scarpered. Ended up racing one of the barges & made it to the lock complex 1st. Watched it go through, which was interesting. All this & not a shop in sight. Definitely hungry & thirsty. Google suggested a shop just off the route - assured it was open. It was not. Pushed on over the border & was given the choice - motorway or shitty gravel track. Given how much of a bully boy the police looked at the border, gravel was chosen. Amazed at no puncture & still no shop. First shop located with 7 miles to go. The shop keeper recounting a Queen song to me - happy soul - the shop itself seemed a little forlorn. Pop and chocolate to get me through. Priority on arriving in Gyor was rehydration salts. Not enough drink & too much sweating.Read more