Day 29 Sombor to Novi Sad

In which Sid and Doris are given Jesus’ protection and find an excellent base for a day of rest.

We decided to do this in one direct day because the route chosen by Euro Velo 6 looked dull, running along the dikes and would likely take three days of off-road pain. So this should be better, and it probably was. One day of 99 kilometres into a consistent headwind, and by the end of the day the filling station signs showing 39 degrees centigrade. Over 100 degrees Fahrenheit.  So boring, so hard on the upper spine. Not epic.

  At an early stop we took our fizzy pop into the churchyard where the warden and his wife were working. The pictures show just another Serbian Orthodox Church in just another place.

We always leave money and light candles. The lady churchwarden was so pleased with our tiny generosity that she gave us two little pictures of Jesus to carry on the bikes. I think she might have saved our lives.

We were on roads of varying quality with traffic ranging from the occasional Zastava or tractor through to solid streams of vans, cars and delivery trucks. There were a few French style over takings, where the vehicle takes fully to the other lane. By contrast there were several where three ton trucks passed within a foot of us at about 80kph. Doris asks Sid not to shout or be angry, as the only person who hears the shouting and the anger is Doris. Sid stops being angry and just wishes them painfully dead. So not angry. A lot of Serbian drivers are aggressive and careless of other peoples’ lives. They make Hungarian truckers look like your Guardian Angel.

The lunch stop was in a village so small it did not even have its own idiot. (But we were there.) Walking around the store it took some time to realise we could make our own sandwiches from the ingredients available. Do not forget 1.5 litres of sugary agrumes.

The day ground on with regular stops by the road just so we could stand up and let blood back into our bums and hands.

 

On the outskirts of Novi Sad, which you will not mistake for Amsterdam, the road crossed a railway track via a flyover which would obviously be hell on earth for bikes. Doris thought we should just walk over the railway with our bikes, and that’s what we did. Health and safety? Better than in with the trucks. (Maybe we should have kept an eye open for trains while clowning around for the photo – in hindsight, it was a live track – D.)

 

The Hotel Fontana has a charming garden/terrace with a bit of Ali’s Place in Marrakech about it, though with less mould in the bathroom. So we are home and looking forward to a day when we do not obsess about knees or bottoms. And we are going to look for a boat to Belgrade as the guide book says the traffic between Novi Sad and Belgrade would make the Arch Angel Gabriel think twice about riding.

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