This post is translated by a computer! I will translate it by myself as soon as possible. If you want to help with the translation, contact me, it is always appreciated.
When I wake up I realize that my tent is totally wet. If I can today nowhere dry it is slightly uncomfortable in the evening. I Pack it and because I yesterday made good much altitude downhill now for the first time.
After 10 kilometers, I go in a village. When I pass a few older people, an elderly man waving me over. Should I put me to them. The man starts me in Serbian full to talk. Thank goodness, can a woman next to me some German and translated. In addition to the table a stack of four or five boxes, stands empty half one. And the man has also been slightly drunk. When one of his friends want to interrupt him, he is dismissive vigorously and is aggressive, if you don’t let him. Eventually, he wants to know where I come from. When I answer „Germany“, he calls immediately very excited: „Hitler!“
I shake my head somewhat puzzled and say: „no, not Hitler.“
The man calmed down and thinks: „Oh, then Belgium or Austria?“
I deny: „No, already Germany.“
Immediately comes back all excited and with a big grin on his face: „Hitler!“
The whole thing is too bad me and I friendly instead offered me water back in the fridge, explain, I would have to make many kilometers with wheel and go. Goodbye, the man makes even the Hitler salute.
The further I get in in the East of the country, the more critical eye me the locals. At some point I get almost only still critical views. The people here are hardly accustomed to tourists. If I times someone friendly greetings, greets hardly one more back. Only one pleased to see a cyclists in their country.
What I also I notice the more I come to the East, the more adoptable dogs find. Whole pack of them roam around in some cities and towns. Man approaching them the one most don’t pay any attention, others barking at everyone and again others look up submissive with big puppy-dog eyes to one, as they would have been the one or other blows by people. She sorry for something and I wonder about the sheer number.
In the evening takes it back in a mountain range, this time to nearly 700 meters altitude. When I got up here it’s almost 19:00. And I have not dried also the tent during the day. Looking for a place to wild camp I meet on a dirt road on a man in his car. He lowers the window, and I give him to understand that I’m looking for a place to sleep. And what is the man? He leads me to a little hut, opens it, displays on a bed and are yet to understand me, I might be out of his garden eating. After that, he left me.
I call again lucky had. So I’m sitting happily somewhere in Serbia on a mountain, have a wonderful view into a Valley opening up before me, she enjoy best pointed pepper I’ve ever tried and let the evening.
Date: 19. August 2015
Schreibe einen Kommentar