Wow, a week can go by quickly. We'll try to post more frequently in the future, but no guarantees. 

On Tuesday (June 5) Phil headed to Budapest while Juliet stayed in Vienna. This post is just a quickie about Phil's journey.

Juliet accompanied me for the first dozen kilometers or so, riding out of central Vienna, across the Danube, and down the river along the top of the levee. It was rather windy, a tailwind, which meant a struggle for Juliet on the ride back.

About 10K outside Vienna, Juliet turned back and I continued alone..and within twenty minutes I ran into a bit of a barrier: at a point where some marshes meet the river, the road was flooded. After a bit of probing, I took off my panniers, and my shoes and socks, stacked everything on the rear rack, and waded through. (If necessary I could have backtracked a few miles and found another way, I'm sure). 

Flooded bike path outside Vienna. That is not the Danube flowing across the road, it's some flooded wetlands.

After that, it was more of what Juliet and I have grown used to for the ride through Austria: flat roads, pleasant scenery, and the occasional lovely small town with its biergartens and gasthauses. 

Although I had thought of doing a long day for the first day out of Vienna, when I got to Bratislava in the mid-afternoon I decided to spend the night there. Bratislava is the capital of Slovakia, and is, by the way, the only capital city in the world that you can leave and be in another country: exit the city to the west and you are in Austria.  Hungary is a few miles down the road.

What we've become used to in a European city with a long history: a tourist-attracting pedestrian core surrounded by historic buildings. 

It almost goes without saying that the signs demarcating the pedestrian zone have an interesting symbol: the father has a hat, the daughter has bows in her hair. I've come to feel a bit embarrassed about our boring, overly stylized U.S. signs.

When in Slovakia, drink what the Slovaks drink. Pretty good.

After a pleasant but unremarkable evening in Bratislava, I set off the next day through a tiny corner of Slovakia and into Hungary. One change from Austria that was immediately obvious was that the Slovaks haven't put nearly the investment into the bikeway: signage was poor, and I often had to consult my map or just head off in a given direction and see if, a few minutes later, I seemed to be going the right way. It was a lot more like a bike route in the U.S., actually: some towns have good signs and good road surfaces, others don't. 

I love this sign. It's on a small road at the border of Slovakia and Hungary. I think the big panel at the top means "use your headlights and wear your seat belt," but I can't figure out the small panel there at all. The bottom is exactly the opposite, the small panel is clear enough (don't talk on your phone while you drive) but I have no idea what the big panel could mean. Maybe "we don't use signs here"? Baffling.

The road in Hungary goes through lots of small agricultural villages. These people made creative use of a hay bale. 

This area of Hungary supposedly still had lots of thatched-roof houses as recently as ten years ago, but no longer: this was one of the very few that I saw.

After Bratislava I did a long day, 100 miles...even on flat roads this was tiring. The pizza loaded with vegetables that I had at a small hotel in Komarom that night was so, so welcome.

The next day was one of only two on the whole trip that wasn't dead flat. After completing a slightly hilly section on a dirt road I stopping in at a roadside bar to get some water, and ended up staying for a beer and some chit-chat in spite of having no good way to communicate. Initially, the bartender and a patron tried to ask me about my trip. The bartender spoke very slowly and enunciated very clearly...in Magyar, of which I speak three words (yes, no, thanks). I held up a finger --- "wait just a second" --- stepped out to my bike, and retrieved my phone, on which I have an "essentials of Hungarian" app. Speaking very slowly and clearly myself as I read from the screen, I said "Sajnos nem tudok magyarul." All three people in the place joined in for the last word, laughing: what I said is "I'm sorry, I don't speak Magyar." 

Fortunately, you can do a lot with place names and mime: I'm from America; California; San Francisco. My wife and I rode from Passau to Vienna. Now I am riding to Budapest. I started today in Kosonom. Easy!

The happy crew at the roadside bar. The guy on the left came in just before I left; he spoke a bit of English, and bought shots all 'round. One of the guys has a tee shirt that reads "The Sneaker was United. He's wearing a shirt, jean, and sneakers."

I spent the night in Visegrad, and did a quick ride to the old castle on the hill the next morning. About like climbing Claremont to Grizzly Peak, for you East Bay cyclists.

Freshly picked strawberries (the picking crew is in the background, not that you can tell). I'm almost done eating the double-handful that I bought for about $1.

Even quite close to Budapest there was a big section of undeveloped wetlands and forest. Pleasant riding.

Just a bit closer to Budapest there are miles of pathways along the river, with cafes and ice cream stands.

Finally, Budapest. The parliament building is quite striking. 

Budapest at night is stunning.

I'm going to claim that a higher fraction of Budapestians (Budapestos?) is out on the streets at 10PM than in any other city in the world. Probably not true but you can't prove it wrong by me. Every few blocks there was a scene like this one, hundreds of people sitting or standing around chatting, some of them paying attention to giant TV screens broadcasting the Euro2012 soccer tournament. The big island/park in the center of the city was also swarming with people picnicking, jogging, walking dogs, etc.

More Budapest nightlife. Unfortunately I didn't get any photos of a "ruin club" called Szimpla, a courtyard/bar/multiple-performance-space. By the time I got there I was too exhausted to put much energy into it, which is a pity.

I could certainly have entertained myself for another day or two in Budapest, but I was ready to see my sweetie again so after less than 24 hours in the city I caught a train to Passau via Linz. I was fortunate to have a folding bike, since my options would have been very limited otherwise. Even so, things looked a bit dicey when I was trying to board the train, 10 minutes before departure, and was told by one of the attendants that the bike had to be in a bag. In fact, I have a big bag that the folded bike will fit into, but after much consideration I had left it at home in Berkeley. What to do?  The best option, in fact, would have been to wait until the guy was busy doing something else and simply get on the train. Instead, I spent 6 minutes carrying my bike and gear frantically from shop to shop in the train station until I found one that had a bunch of big plastic trash bags, which I bungied around my bike so it was kinda-sorta "in a bag." I got on the train, sweating and stressed out, with 1 minute to spare, only to find that there was no room whatsoever in the big luggage racks, nor any empty seats.   I shifted some luggage onto the overhead racks and made just enough room for my bike -- a few luggage owners helped me out here --- and then sat between cars with some other forlorn people until a few stops later, when some seats opened up.  After that it was clear sailing. Whew.