Hilariously wake up in the bushes just on the river. Having slept in my clothes I'm ready to go in no time. A banana for breakfast and I'm off. I find a nice spot for breakfast proper and load up on grub. Off I go following the Euro Velo 6 still, but diversion signs are in place and I blindly follow them. The signs bring me out in god knows where about 20km later. Through woods and farmer's fields I go. On this route I decide to investigate something I have seen a lot of Germany and Austria: hunters' perches/hides/sheds whatever you call them. Looking like a lifeguard's tower or even an umpires chair, but higher with a small shed on top with windows on all sides. I must have seen nearly two hundred of these on my travels. I don't know who pays for them, perhaps a club, perhaps the farmers to encourage the shooting of what they consider pests. The huts are not quite big enough to sleep in but could do in an emergency. I shimmy up the ladder and into the carpeted shed. A moth the size of small yoghurt pot is nestling on the carpeted shelves, camouflaged. I open up the main long window and see through the letterbox the view that the hunter would have. Dead cool. I find an empty fired shell / bullet on the shelf and decide to keep it as a souvenir. As I pocket it thoughts go through my head of what trouble this could get me in if found in certain situations, but it's too good a souvenir to throw away. Eventually I rejoin the real cycle path and head to Hainburg and go in search of the 900 year old archway that Stevens talks about entering the city through. As luck would have it, I find it purely by chance tucked out the way with steps on the other side. Two German cycle tourists arrive and I coerse them into taking a photo of me with the arch, explaining its historical significance and about my quest. Five minutes later whilst searching for Lidl I find the real archway, ten times the size and actually leading into the city. :)
I get some supplies and head back down to the water to make a huge pasta lunch. The pasta in the not Lidl supewrmarket was 1.99 for 250g or 1kg for .69 cheapy. You can guess what I went for. Rather than carry all that weight I have a massive portion for lunch, with some chopped meat and garlic and herbs. Huge and delightful. With full belly I cruise along the flat bicycle highway to Bratislava and Slovakia. When I cross the unmanned border the quality of path deteriorates, not very badly, but noticeably in quality and colour. It has a faded look about it. Still perfectly fine to wheel along though. More concrete on display in these parts and more industry visible. Clearly a reminder of the communist past. In Germany the family run, but now big businesses nestle in perfect harmony with the villages they grew up in. Countryside and industry in close harmony. The offices and factorys are uber modern and the village wants to show off who they work for and are proud of what work is there. I'm not sure how the Slovakians feel so I can't say, but to me the industry is a blight on the landscape, not a pleasant juxtaposition. I take the bridge North back over the Danube and into Bratislava. As time is short I don't visit the Jewish quarter as Thomas did. Google tells me not a lot is left after the communist regime, except for a few buildings and plaques to commeroate what was there. Time is short, decsions have to be made and I want to get back to feeling I can actually complete the journey, so a quick whizz through and back on the path towards Gyor. The path is great, not quality of tarmac but just the ambience. It seems to be being used by normal people doing normal things. Where Germany and Austria's guesthouses and bars seemed to cater to bicycle tourists, here it's locals out cycling, roller balding and dog walking. Three very fit woman, and I mean that in every way, rollerblade past me in a pursuit formation going about 25kph and sticking right in each others shadows. Its a joy to watch ;) Further up the path I find a beer stall and notice that a 500ml jug of Staropramen here is 1euro, compared to 3 in Austria, Although it's been hot all day I believe I should sample my first beer in a new country just in case something terrible happens. The bars here are more basic, sort of beach bar-esque. Lots of long benches in the shade and tables and chairs in the sun. A cook is barbecuing various things on a small grill. I catch up on the blog and start to smell something nice and go over and have a look. Spicy chicken wings, 40c each. I order three and go back to my blog. Cook calls me over when they are ready and asks me if want bread, ketchup, salad, that sort of thing with it. I say yes but then find out it costs an extra euro. It's only a snack 'til dinner so I decline. Then we get talking football and when I mention Liverpool he points out that one of our defenders, Martin “no vowels” Skrtl is inded a Slovakian. This causes great excitement with cook and when I show him my LFC membership card he insists I have the bread for free. With a 10% (I dont think so) Staropramen inside me I head off into the sun and hug the side of the Danube damming project which creates a vast width of water at least 1km wide here. It's beautiful as the sun starts to gently come down and the herons, gulls and coots swim and fly around. The path is pretty empty out here except for a few road cyclists and at about 6 I spot some rapids on the other side of the Danube. I pull off the path and descend the 10m or so down the grassy embankment, cross the road and ride down a dirt track to the water's edge. Plenty of camping activity has taken place here before. I see boats in the lake fishing and in the middle of the rapids another boat is anchored with a man fishing from it. Around a small bend two lads are fly fishing with their gaitors on. The noise of the rapids is really loud and I'm tempted to camp here, but I decide to plough on for another hour. Time passes quickly and I spy a petrol station and decide to pick up a beer for the night's camp. I get 1.5l bottle of Kuvelo for 2e. Silly billy. A little after here I go into a small village and look for a camp. Another track is raised behind a field and I follow it. The water that it follows is very still and with dusk approaching I ride straight into a cloud of mosquitoes. This lasts for about 2km. Easily the most I have ever seen. I get off the path and back on the cycleway and keep going. Another opportunity presents itself and I head past a car with fishing gear. A jack russel chases me down the track into the woods before being called back by its owner. It's the closest I've been to a dog attack, but it was harmless. The car tracks into the woods give way to overgrown bushes and big tree roots. I don't think many cars come down here. And then like an Oasis my little spot appears. A camp fire has been started not long ago, a small dip down to the river shows me what is more like a creek. A tree stump has a mosquito candle on it. But there are not many here. Perfect. I light the candle, get the tent up and prepare a pasta, tomato sauce, sausage, garlic and herb dinner of massive proportions. These 100km plus days have started to increase my appetite. I have absolutely no worries of being found here. Not because I don't think anyone will come along, but if they do I'm sure they will be happy to join me in a beer or some such outdoorsy evening pastime.
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