So I’ve done it, I’ve cycled across Europe in 5 months.
Around the World in 80 days? Not quite… but West France to Eastern Romania in 140 days? Yes.
I always get asked “are you on your own?!”. From French people asking inquisitively, “tout seul, pourquoi pas de fille??!”, to (well-meaning) Germans saying to me “why are you on your own, wouldn’t it be a lot nicer to have company?”. The general response is a dreary “yes, I am on my own. Yes it would be lovely to have company.” However, in reality the solitude is refreshing and, most importantly, liberating! To spend EVERY minute of EVERY day with someone else also results in a need for justification and compromise… both of which I struggle with. How do I explain to someone that I just want to sit in a quiet church for an hour because the city I’m in has overwhelmed me? Also, one person results in one person’s worth of smell, adding another person into the equation would result in extra stink and a lot less privacy. Maybe one day I’ll meet The One™️ but, for now, I’m happy to not have to bore someone with my incessant singing for days on end…
I also find that ‘solo travel’ allows me to fully immerse myself in the culture of a new place as well. People are more welcoming when you’re on your own. I have had countless people who have paid for my food, drink and EVEN accommodation (hey Judith!). But honestly, I highly doubt that this would happen if there was someone else with me. I find it easier to make friends when I’m on my own.
This welcoming attitude and friendliness increased greatly once I’d crossed the invisible Iron Gates into Eastern Europe. It took me a day to cycle from bustling Vienna to Bratislava, Slovakia. Whilst they are both technically capital cities, the latter is ¼ of the size of the former so as I sat down the next morning, eating a traditional pastry, I finally felt comfortable. There wasn’t a disgusting clamour of camera-clad tourists (although Budapest was yet to come) and I didn’t feel pressured. I felt comfortable as the ex-soviet trams screeched past and the language around me changed from Germanic to Slavic. I realised suddenly how a lot of my heart is in Eastern Europe. Kefir, Burek and bullish bald men (who are always angry for no reason) out does Western Europe with those nuances of ‘polite’ conversation, with red wine and hard cheese. A lot of interactions I had during the 3 months of cycling Western Europe were superficial and, I might go as far as saying, false.
I should probably comment that I have spent a lot of time in Eastern Europe already. I’ve visited Poland 3 times and spent many months backpacking across the Baltic states and down in towards Romania. I’ve already experienced pierogi and all of it’s variations. I’ve tried it all, from cepelinai to weird squiggly Hungarian potato dumplings… so the food doesn’t scare me anymore but the people still certainly do.
Lithuanian Cepelinai…
Hungarian squiggly potato dumplings. They’re actually called ‘Spaetzle’ if you want to be a local or order this in the future which I highly don’t recommend!
One thing that I learnt about travelling through Eastern Europe is that you must adopt the mindset of an Eastern European. You will get shouted at some point with some adaptive use of ‘Kurwa’, this is absolutely inevitable, and often there’s no explanation as to why. Take a Polish milk bar (bar mleczny) for example. You finally pluck up the courage to enter into this cafe/ restaurant that is still decorated just as it was when it was opened back in the 1950’s. You then order off the large blackboard above the till lady’s head, but if you order something that doesn’t have a price next to it then they will get audibly frustrated with you. But wait! The fun hasn’t stopped yet! If you fail to clear your tray once you’ve finished eating your questionably cheap £1 pierogi and cold beetroot soup (yes, this is supposedly an Eastern European delicacy) then you will get YELLED at and trust me, you do not want half a dozen angry old polish ladies yelling at you in a milk bar. Similar situations happen if you’re in somebody’s way in a supermarket, there are no ‘oh sorry excuse me’s’ or ‘ooh could I just get past?’ You’ll either be shoved aside or told in no uncertain terms what a useless sack of shit you are for being in their way (or that’s at least how it sounds in the Slavic languages). These are things you can only learn the hard way or, in my case, after spending hours on Tripadvisor forums researching what to do and what not to do in such establishments.
However, whilst the populations of Eastern Europe may have an excessive risk of heart failure, and also most definitely all require some form of therapy, they are at least genuine. Behind the dreary eyes of the ever-increasing aged population they still retain genuine fascination and interest in life. This attitude is polarised to the locals I met in Germany and Austria who’s false niceties and sickly-sweet smiles could be compared to that of a certain Dolores Umbridge. Often I would ask myself whether the locals in Germany were just revelling in the pain of an English boy as they refused to help me ‘due to reasons beyond their control’ rather than trying to help in any way they could. I think the reason that I prefer Eastern Europe to Western Europe is for the lack of unnecessary ‘box-ticking’ and a favouring of independent thought.
And that’s what it comes down to, the attitudes from West to East change from superficial niceties to bullish bald men barking at you. But that’s what I like about Eastern Europe, you always know where you stand (or at least where you shouldn’t).
Cycling On Me Own 