Making my way back home.

With some convincing and only after everyone else had fit their luggage onto the bus, the surely Croatian bus driver and his assistant allowed me to load my bicycle. I took a seat and promptly fell asleep. We made a lot of stops, all of which I slept through except at the Slovenian boarder where they stamped my passport. And right on time at 10 AM we arrived in Venice.

Surprisingly easy I then caught a train to Milan a major rail hub in northern Italy and felt like I was almost home. The plan was to go to Lyon where we had friends or directly to Parpignon on the southern coast of France where Sarah was staying for the week to recover before coming back to the States. 

But I had one more hurdle to cross because when I got to Milan I found it was impossible to travel into France with a bicycle. The trains in Europe are not nearly as bicycle friendly as I had been led to believe. 

I was exhausted by now so I decided to book a room for the night in Milan and found a great little hotel. As usual the people in the hotel were very helpful and a great resource. Having learned by now how to out think the railroad people and with the help of the resourceful hotel staff I and the next day I disassembled the bike and used a lot of tape and some random packaging garbage from their utility room to disguise her as just another piece of luggage.

..... and here she is after the mornings effort, looking more like a cello than a bicycle. 

And after a day exploring and getting to know Milan and a few pictures  ...........

..... I made it to Perpignon in France and into the safety and security of family and friends.

I spent 3 days with Sarah and our friends on the south coast of France and swam, slept and ate and caught up on all of the news from home as well as regaled with stories of my trip.

 .........and I began to recover from what were more severe bruises than I had admitted to on the road in Slovenia.......

....... and the lump on my left hip was the size of an egg ...... so much for being the bionic man with my two titanium hip replacements.

With my beard trimmed and a haircut I then spent 4 more glorious days resting in Fleurie in the Bougeleis near Lyon catching up with Sarah in every way. 

Then finally booking a flight back to the USA on the 29th of August almost 2 months to the day of my departure I concluded the adventure.

Pula and the end of the road

I woke the next morning to a beautiful sunrise feeling well rested and ready to go ..........

....... and headed off early to try and get to Pula where I was told I could catch a boat down the coast toward Dubrovnik or one of the other bigger cities and ride some of the long islands that are said to be beautiful for a few more days before making my way home.

There were some nice rolling hills and little harbors along the way, with some orchards of fruit and nut trees and even some vineyards. But the soil seemed rocky and not nearly as green, rich or productive as France or Northern Italy.

..........and everywhere along the coast even if there was no beach people would folk to the shoreline. 

Just before lunch, making good time I rode into the small harbor town of Vrsar. To save about 25 miles of riding inland and then back 25 miles to cross a river, I had been told that there was a ferry To get across. In the states or most of Europe there probably would have been a bridge. 

But here in Vrsar the ferry had stopped and was no longer operating. making matters worse in the busy harbor full of fishing boats for charter a guy darted out, without looking into the bike path I was riding on and knocked me over. I fell but relatively gently and fortunately on the opposite side than I had landed on twice before and I was okay. 

Not so for Helen. Up till now my trusty and reliable bike. As any true spoke-head knows there are few, and probably only one thing on a bike that is a deal breaker and can't be repaired or replaced on the road. Most parts .........wheels, spokes, chain, breaks, cables, etc. are interchangeable and replaceable. The one thing that is unique for each bike and critical for riding at all is the hanger arm on the rear derailier because it holds tension on the chain and mine was snapped into two pieces.

At this point I knew I was finished and the ride was over!!!!!!! Helen was dead!!!!

I walked off the road and sat for a while to come to terms with this reality and try to figure out how to get home. I was in a small town in Croatia with no bus or rail service and a bicycle that I could not ride. 

I walked about 1 kilometer back into town thinking over my options. I noticed a bike rental shop as I got to the village harbor and thought of one possibility. If I took the derailleur or gear shifting mechanism completely off the bike and was able to shorten the chain, it would be possible in theory to chose one fixed gear and ride. 

I approached the shop to see if they had the one tool needed and that I didn't have to shorten the chain. Something that could press out one of the pins on the chain and remove the required number of links. Not only didn't they not have this special but common tool, but had never even heard of one. A friend of the guy who owned the shop ran home and came back with a box of old rusted bike parts, insisting on repairing the whole rear derailleur, but not the simple tool for changing a chain. But in the old Soviet style of brute force we pounded and hammered out the pin and somehow were able to shortened the chain

...... my hero, savior and repair man in Croatia ..... a truely creative and resourceful mechanic.

.

With only a single mid-range gear that allowed me to climb a gentle hill but not cruse at more than 13 MPH, I set off for the 40 miles I had to ride to get to Pula the nearest city that was on the transportation grid. The going was slow since the chain kept wanting to slide into a lower gear and eventually off the gear cluster into the axel if I didn't maintain tension on the chain.

I managed to get the hang of riding with the floating chain, learning how to keep guiding it back into place with my foot and fortunately with no big hills to climb at about 5 PM I finally rolled into Pula. I went immediately to the harbor to see if there were any boats to Venice or across the Adriatic to Italy. But there were no ferries today or for the next two days. 

Desperate with no rail service in town, I went to the bus terminal my last resort and fortunately found a 6 hour bus to Venice leaving the next morning at 5 AM and bought one of the last seats.

Finally able to relax, I explored the ancient Roman city of Pula. It had a huge Roman Colosseum used to watch gladiators fight and many other Roman structures. As well there was an enormous municipal park with an incredible beach, a remnant of the communist era, where I took a swim as the sun set.

Since I wanted to be at the bus station at 4 AM to be certain I got a seat and could load my bicycle, I decided it would be easier to have a late dinner, explore the night life of Pula and just stay up all night and catch an hour or two of sleep on the beach in the park.

The city filled with tourists from Sariavo, Germany, Poland and Austria down on the southern coast of the Adriatic Sea for holidays never did go to sleep and was still buzzing as I made my way to the bus station early the next morning before the sun came up, hoping to be able to begin my return journey home.

I have no photos of this beautiful old and very interesting city because my i Pad battery was dead.

Into Croatia and back on road

Up early the next day I backtracked on the bike path to Koper. It was about 15 miles and I had to ride back past the site if my 2nd fall from the previous day. I recognized the spot and found it hard to fathom how I had fallen so hard in such a benign spot, with the pavement dry it was very different.

In Koper I easily got the funds since Harry, reliable as always had fixed the ridiculous Western Union flaw. Then I rode back again to Portarosa to pay my benefactor and hopefully move on to Croatia. This time I took some pictures.

The Slovenian coast.....

One of the 3 tunnels on the bike path ....

....... very dry and not nearly as lush .......

Back in Portaroz llwhen I arrived at Dona's office I had a big surprise. The police had called her office to ask her if they knew me and to ask where I was because they had found my wallet!!! Everything was in tact except for the small amount of cash, which I gladly would have given as a reward. Unbelievable, not only that someone had turned it in only taking the money, but that the police with only my name to go on had been able to find me in Slovenia! Evidently in Slovenia all foreigners who stay in a hotel are registered and they had a database and called the agency who had booked my room.

Very appreciative I offered to take Dona and her young assistant out to lunch. We had a lot of fun at lunch and ate nochies (a potato pasta) and a local mushroom dish that were delicious. And I got to know some real locals in Slovenia talking about their history under Communism, the war that followed and about things now and what they hopped for the future.

After lunch having just had several days rest I was psyched to move on and I headed for Croatia. I crossed the border about 15 miles later, having to show my pass port and get a stamp for the first time since Spain. Here also the money was different using the Krona. Getting a late start and wanting to put on some miles I decided to ride through the late afternoon and evening. 

It was very rural and hot and very dry, looking like it haven't rained in months.

The bike path I had intended to take was not paved and the surface very rough gravel so I changed plans and went on the road ......

..... the roads were pretty narrow. Less room than in Italy and a sharp drop into the shoulder which makes for a difficult ride and the need for a lot of trust in the cars, busses, trucks and especially the cars pulling campers.

Speaking of campers, here is something very different that i noticed in Croatia, which is the huge number of campers in crude RV campgrounds all, over the place. A Croatia villa is said to be a camper parked, usually permanently, some looking like they have been there in the same spot for years, because the wheels have been taken off and the rims set on their flat side and with shims used to level up the rig. They are everywhere and always with no tires, but rugs and outdoor furniture like a permanent home.

Someone joked that they are a Croatian version of an Italian villa. But the people mostly families are packed into these camps and look to be having a lot of fun. thankfully very few actually are on the road............

The same can be said for sailboats. Every little and big harbor is packed with sailboats, hundreds of them as far as you can see. Most look as though they have never left the dock to actually be sailed and probably would sink if the owners ever tried. But the people are on the boats and use them as a place to sleep, eat and party and have their holiday on the coast.

With energy and feeling good I rode into the evening as it got much cooler and I made a decision to sleep outside tonight. My decision came because it was a beautiful warm, clear night, there was almost a full moon and in a mostly agricultural area I saw many nice looking hay bales in the fields. Beside being in a new country I didn't know the system for getting a room and the few towns I saw were packed with tourists.

After finding a great looking distant empty field, I noted the spot and went ahead to a great restaurant for a delicious fresh fish dinner then came back and set up for the night.

I had a comfortable sleep and enjoyed the full moon and after the moon set a great show of stars.

Portarosa and getting some cash

Yesterday the first day in Portarosa was a national holiday and I couldn't do anything in the way of getting some money wired over. Everything was closed. so I spent the day sleeping late, riding around town and at the beach. It was a resort town and packed with mostly Slovenian but also Austrian and German tourists on holiday.

There was no huge beach, only a few small sections of sand which were very crowded, but all along the shoreline people would come and find a spot.

I found a nice spot under some trees and relaxed, napped and watched all of the activity. The water was clear, clean and crisp. Not at all warm as I had expected. Not really cold like Maine but cool and for me, perfect.

........ and very clear and clean. No real seaweed like in Maine.

But unlike yesterday when I could relax and hang out at the beach my mission today was to get some funds transferred. So first thing, I went to the only bank in town that would do a Western Union money transfer and learned how it would work and emailed the information home to my son Harry,

Sarah had left for France so my fate was in the hands of my young son Harry to make the transfer. But there is no one in the world that I would rather have handle this than Harry. He is the most reliable and competent person there is. Though just turned 21 he is very smart and it is just his nature to be good at this type of thing. 

With the 6 hour time difference we only had a short time window with 2 hours between when my bank in Stockbridge opened and the bank in Slovenia closed. But up early and right on time Harry went to the Lee Bank only to learn that they did not handle Western Union money transfers and that he had to go to Price Chopper in Great Barrington. Resourceful and quick on his feet this is what he did and by 3:30 I had what I needed to get the money. 

But in Slovenia things were not so simple. Although I had everything .....the correct 10 digit ID, Harrison Wesley Wilken's full and correctly spelled name and my passport matching the name on the transfer. In GB Harry had been told and attached a message with a security question. Something common in GB when immigrants transfer money back home to Central America. But in Slovenia they don't use the security question and would not process the transfer with it attached.

Frantic for time because I didn't want to wait 2 more days over the weekend with no money I emailed back to Harry to cancel the security question. As always, reliable Harry, competent and quick on his feet got to GB in time and cancelled the question. ....... but still they would not give me the money!!!!!

We also, which they didn't tell me, had to cancel not only the message but that there was a message. This all this makes no sense and sounds ridiculous, and it is, and was and those who know me know that I have no patience or tolerance for things that make no sense!! Especially in my state of desperation. I was not a happy camper!!! And I must apologize to the people in the bank, although they were pretty clueless and refused to plead my case to Western Union. They acted like docile sheep and refused to question something ridiculous that made no sense. I saw it as a real cultural difference that makes American's who we are.

Faced with spending the weekend stranded with no money I asked around and found a place in a town 15 miles back the way I came that I had just come that was open Saturday morning. so I went back to see Dona the incredibly nice lady at the information/booking agency for another nights room and loan for food and went to bed.

As with so many people I have met on this journey Dona was so incredibly helpful and generous to me, a complete stranger, that it really gives me faith in the human species. And it reinforces my belief that if you trust people and are patient and nice to others the same will be returned to you.

Recovered with funds in hand and on the way home

Just a quick note here since I have heard from some family who had several concerned phone calls asking if I was all right because I haven't posted in a few days. I am okay!!! I'm sorry that I might have left things hanging, but I have been very busy and out of Internet access.

All is well now and I am now in Milano Italy on my way back to Lyon hopefully today where our good friends that Sarah will be staying with after Perpignon live. Then down to visit my patient and understanding wife Sarah in Perpignon for a few days of R&R and then home and back to work.

It has been an exciting and eventful end to the trip and I still have a few hurdles to clear in getting my bicycle back to Lyon. I will fill in the details and recreate the daily log during my R&R when I finally get some rest in France and I reconnect with Sarah.

But I am okay!!!

I won't leave the blog unfinished like I did last year riding across America at the end. So in the unlikely event that anyone is actually reading this, there is an exciting finish, complete with a lot more really good people who appear out of nowhere to help out what in the end becomes a weary and down and almost out but resourceful intrepid traveler in Croatia.

I might even get inspired to recall and write for myself the closing days to last years trip across America ...... just for the record.

Recovery in Portarosa

After a slightly uncomfortable but restful nights sleep I woke late. You know how after a fall or an accident or being in a brawl you wake up the next day with bruises and stiff in places you didn't feel the day before. Well that is exactly how I felt. Glad for the day of rest.

I lingered for an hour over coffee and then wrote (mostly to myself) yesterday's long blog for another hour. 

This is where I sat all morning. In a daze sort like how I felt after the second fall yesterday. Not quite believing where I was and what just happened. I am in a former Soviet republic, what my ancient generation would say "behind the Iron Curtain", in enemy land, where I don't know a soul, with no money and I am sore and bruised as hell. 

The place I was staying at was very interesting .......

Unlike a good portion of the downtown area that was new and clearly built after the fall of the Communist state in the late 1980's this place was as though it was caught in a time warp. It was definitely from the old Soviet era the architecture, the furnishings the electrical and plumbing and the little old lady and her son who owned and ran the place. 

It must have been in it's day one of the more exclusive spots. And a good place to recover. 

A tough day in Slovenia

Wednesday morning my 42nd day on the road began with a very ominous overcast sky. Up until now with the exception of the first few days in Spain when there was a misty fog off of the Atlantic and the rest day in Grenoble when it poured, I have been extremely fortunate with perfect weather, a little bit hot on just a few days but no rain.

Not only was the sky overcast but the wind was blowing pretty steady at about 25 mph with gusts higher. I know this because when riding with the wind at 23 mph I still had the wind behind me. 

Fortunately it was blowing from the north and I was headed almost due south.

Trieste's main square ......

The flags were pegged horizontal with not a single boat on the water.

The extreme winds had caused the boat I had intended to take getting a jump around an industrial area was cancelled, so I rode south with the tailwind.

After about 20 miles I crossed into Slovenia, which is now an independent country and a member of the European Union using the uro. Once a part of Yugoslavia allied and under the thumb of the Soviet Union it was considered to be behind the Iron Curtain. 

The boarder crossing now abandoned ...... with the old gate and buildings but not a soul in sight.

.... on the Italian or the Slovenian side .....

Things across the border did not seem very different. There was a nice well marked bike path I followed for the rest of the morning.

The path was usually paved but when not paved still in very good condition. I had heard about this great bike path back in Italy and since I had no detailed map I just followed the path. It is difficult when crossing national borders to get maps and information on the next country until you get there. They don't have information on Slovenia in Italy. Then once you arrive there is no one at the border so for awhile I had to ride a little blind.

........ I was usually along or very close to the coast. Until I hit the small city of Koper where I lost the path still couldn't find a detailed map and ended up on a busy road. Then trying to keep heading south-east on a smaller side road I made a big climb that was a mistake. It started raining on the way up and needing a town for directions I continued on until I hit some civilization and a place to get oriented. By now it was raining hard!

Fortunately I met a group of 3 Austrian guys on vacation cycling in Slovenia ......no kidding it really is a tourist destination! They spoke English, had some good maps, gave me one and convinced me that i had to go back down the hill I just climbed. With the rain it had gotten cold and I put on a dry long sleeved shirt and my yellow wind breaker for the descent.

THIS IS WHEN THE DAY TURNED ABSOLUTELY ROTTEN !!!!!!!

  NOTE TO ALL ....... I am writing this long and for most people, boring explanation which I don't expect anyone but my family to read. i write it for myself and because I owe my family and Jane, Corey, Mary and Steve, Vlada and the Pru's an explanation for the emergency email I sent out in desperation. Everyone else can just skip down to the nice pictures.

On the steep descent which i had just climbed, with some nasty hairpin turns, that I was uncharacteristically taking very slowly and carefully .......

.... I  CRASHED !!!!

As I made a steep hairpin turn my wheels just slipped out from under me. I hit hard and skidded about 20 yards on the steep incline. I was bruised on my left hip and my helmet hit hard. But due to having been wearing the windbreaker, the long shorts and my helmet I was bruised but okay and had no road rash and there was no blood. I thought that I had just been careless.

A lot more cautious now and pissed off I continued and found the bike path again. Here I have no pictures even though the path was really nice and must have followed an old railroad because there were no hills and twice went through some really cool tunnels, one 1/2 kilometer long.

The roads were wet but the rain had stopped and about 20 miles after the fall I was starting to feel better Then as I went slowly around a gentle downhill curve on the bike path ......

  BAMM .... I WENT DOWN AGAIN!!!!    

My wheels again just flew out from under me. Unbelievable! I just sat there in a daze. I fell on the same hip which was now really sore and swollen and also my left shoulder really hurt. I got up and pulled myself together and checked out my bike. Helen was fine and the tires, although worn, had the right air pressure and decent rubber. Then while just standing there I almost fell on my ass again.

I checked the pavement and it was as slick as though it had grease or a coat of oil on it. I later was told by a policeman and several other locals that this is common in the summer when it rains after a long dry spell. And indeed I saw 3 ambulances fly by that afternoon and several other places where car accidents had happened.

By now I was pretty shaken up and VERY VERY cautiously I rode another 25 miles to the town of Portorose a busy but very nice beach town. Fortunately Slovenia has great tourist information offices which I found easily. Because I was a little shaken and dazed and in no condition for any more adventure and since this looked like a great town I immediately looked to book a room. 

In every country the process is different and here I learned that you had to go to a booking agent who was just around the corner. With my bicycle locked and my passport in hand I walked over to see the booking agent. She had left a sign on the door to say she would be back in a half hour or so. Still feeling shell shocked I sat on the front stairs and waited and after about an hour she arrived and although the town was filled to the brim she got me into a really nice sounding place just a mile out of town. Here I have to make a correction to my previous and original post when I said my wallet was stolen. My wallet was not stolen but had been lost previously in the day.

I only had about 50 uro in it because cautiously I don't carry much cash, but it did also have my Lee Bank card which was my only way to get cash at an ATM. Fortunately I had my passport and also fortunately the lady at the booking service was very sympathetic and nice. 

Thank my lucky stars, my good karma and Hannah that I had this IPad. Because that is how I sent the email to you all, asking in desperation for the first one to be on line and get the email to call Sarah .... and within 30 minutes I was able to Skype and talk to Sarah about going to Lee Bank to arrange to wire me some cash. 

This is Dona who helped me out, got me the room on credit until I could get some cash and even lent me money for some food.

The day ended well with my body a little battered and bruised and my funds slightly depleted but with help on the way, my spirits still strong and my sense of adventure still alive. 

Tomorrow I will rest and recover because by now the banks were closed and tomorrow is a Slovenian national holiday and banks are closed all day.

I rode up the hill just outside of town in the dark to the little dacha where I had a room for the next 2 nights to recover.

Trieste ... well one more day in Italy .....

Another good nights sleep had me waking up refreshed and ready for the boat to Trieste and on to Slovenia and Croatia. Saying good by to the ......

........ Hotel Argentina and the busy little town ....

I set off for a last look around town and to find the boat. This group of locals over on vacation from Trieste insisted on escorting be to the correct dock .....

....... where I discovered there were only 3 boats a day and that I had missed the early boat and the next didn't leave until 2:30. Probably for the better, now I would relax in Grado for a few hours. So I went door a swim, had lunch, did some work on my iPad, and watched some good tennis ....

............and explored the village discovering the fishing fleet ....

....... before zipping off promptly at 2:30.

........... Just a moment now for a side bar about boating in this part of the world .... and something about the etiquette and rules ....... there aren't any. Especially in Venice where everyone would peal out as fast as whatever HP they had would take them throwing up a huge wake. All of this created a big and constant chop on the water in the main channels. A "no wake zone" like in Booth Bay harbor would be a joke!

But the shoreline totally made up of stone abutments that were .centuries old was able to handle the pounding and the boats, mostly long, low and narrow with a lot of weight up in the bow just plowed through the chop............except for the gondolas which usually stayed in the sheltered back canals ........ or these guys, clearly in over their heads .....

I tried to figure out the rules of the road but there didn't seem to be any. To me it seemed like total chaos. It all worked out though and nobody collided or seemed to get upset. I mostly rode on boats like the 2 on the left below which were a shuttle service run by the municipal government, very inexpensive and efficient with payment seeming to be optional ..... another example of socialism at its best, working much better than free enterprise ever would.

I digress ...... So back to the trip to Trieste. The boat was privately run and really fancy, like a millionaires version of the Mirambo. I met the captain and he was an old salt. There were only 2 bikes on board and this is my Helen parked next to the captains stylish ride ....

........ and a picture of another happy old sailor on board .....

The trip went by quickly and this is a shot of us headed into Trieste .......

.........and the grand city plaza right on the harbor when we arrived. I was told by the captain and several others on board that Trieste was a city worth seeing and since it was already 4:00 I decided to stay another night in Italy and not head out to a foreign country until tomorrow.

I went straight to the information office and easily found a nice modest inexpensive B&B for the night right in town.

This is a photo of the back garden area where Helen spent the night ....

Inspirred by the fishing fleet I saw in Grado earlier in the day I had my last dinner in Italy, but one of the best, an Italian version of a fishermans plater, an assortment of broiled fresh fish with homemade pasta, fresh tomatoes, basil and parmagone. I went to bed early ready to travel behind the old Communist Iron curtain into Moldavia tomorrow.