Lazy bag of bones

When I awoke in the morning, there was coffee and an enormous breakfast waiting for me. I was delighted and so grateful for the generosity of my new friends. Aline had to go to work and I didn't want to hang around and outstay my welcome so I packed and said goodbye. Amelia and Aline insisted on giving me a large jar of their strawberry jam, which is delicious stuff. I was still intent on going to Pleven to stay with my potential host there, and he and I had been exchanging text messages.

I started towards the ferry port, but soon encountered Aline and Marian coming the other direction on the way back from the Police HQ in Turnu Magurele - it was Aline's first day back at work after a month of holidays. They told me that I'd missed the morning ferry and would have to wait until tomorrow, which surprised me as I thought I'd read on the net an article around the time of the ferry's inception that there were 12 services per day. They went back to the station in Traian and then met me again on the road, this time directions reversed, to tell me that there was an evening ferry but it was around 6 pm. Again, not leaving me time to cycle to Pleven, and no train option.

I decided to call off going to Pleven, and started heading east for Giurgiu. The headwind was brutal all day, and I started to notice a slight difference in cycling alone as compared to in a group. There were several kids who tried to physically stop me so I could give them money or food, and one threw a stone when I declined to do so. Another spat at me from the cart being driven by his mother, entirely unprovoked as we'd not even exchanged so much as a gesture, although perhaps he got tired of cyclists not giving him free stuff.

I battled on against the wind cursing quite a lot at its ferocity, and arrived in Giurgiu totally exhausted. I found it a large-ish city compared to what I'd so far seen of Romania. Following the signs for the hotel for about 5 km, I arrived to find it was even more expensive than the one in Turnu Magurele! No thanks. Luckily, I found another, a Communist-era hotel not too far away and near the bridge to Bulgaria and installed myself there just as it got dark.

I was charged for a double room despite insisting on a single, but I didn't have quite enough money for that anyway so the woman accepted what I had.

The next day I just milled around, vaguely looking for an Internet cafe and conserving my energy. The previous day's ride had really hit me and I had relapsed into feeling very weak and feverish again. I found a great Wi-fi hotspot though and managed to have a free Skype call to NZ from sat outside the generous hosts.

I insisted on single room this time, and got the same room at the single price, so I guess we worked out even finally. I went to bed early, and prepared to cross into Bulgaria the next morning.