Three months around Europe

From Mostarrmy plan was to head for Sarajevo, then onto Banja Luka, cross the border into Slovenia and then head north to Prague.

Well that was the plan, Maureen, my GPS didn't do Eastern Europe. I had planned to download the maps but didn't get around to it. So it was back to maps and compass. But identifying towns and direction by using the cyrillic alphabet was pretty difficult Needless to say I got lost. Actually it was quite a pleasant time. Bosnia is heavily wooded and the gentle hills and trees reminded me of Hawkes Bay – with more landmines.

I wandered through country roads, checking my compass regularly to make sure I was heading in the general direction I wanted to go. At my afternoon refreshment stop , a heavy set Serb came up to me and with a strong Sydney accent asked if I was from the UK. No I am from NZ, I replied. And you don't sound local.

“ No over here visiting the rellys – come and meet them . By the way what do you think of the driving in Serbia? “

I was lulled by that Sydney accent. “ Nothing special., bit crazy” Well the rellys were clustered around a table , piled high with beer cans and bottles. My Sydney mate launched into the local dialect , pointing at me while I stood there and was coldly appraised by five or six sets of dark glasses and three day old stubble. Coppola could have cast the Godfather with these boys.

They all seemed to scowling at me. “ I just told them you think Serb Drivers are crap. “ said Sydney.

Looking behind them I saw late model high powered Mercs and BMW’s . These boys obviously took their driving abilities seriously. “ I swallowed and asked Sydney to tell them I could not handle the road conditions at the speed the locals were doing. That is why I think they are crazy and skilful “ After he translated, the boss got up shook my hand and said drink. I had a quick coke, said I need to get on and left in a hurry. I didn't need to share Fat Eric with a horse's head or a fish.

Driving into Banya Luka, the smallest capital in Europe, I was stopped by a biker on a Kawasaki with a leather jacket with Banja Luka Gentleman's club stencilled on the back. God here we go, he has read about my comments on budgie smugglers. But he was just wanting to help, sorted me out accommodation and gave me directions to Zagreb.

I crossed Croatia and Slovenia in about three hours , two hours of that being taken up at the Slovenian
border. My passport was checked three times and there was a log jam of about 30 km either side of the border. In the end, I just hitched on the tail of a group of German bikers and we rode down the shoulder, jumping the line. German bikers take their touring very seriously. Their big BMWs and KTMs are loaded with every comfort, immaculately presented and they travel quick. I found them very helpful and friendly, subscribing strongly to the biker"s fraternity. They will be your firm friend if you can tell a few jokes about bottoms and don't mention the war.

Then it was onto Graz and Linz in Austria. The weather was poor so after purchasing a new GPS with maps of eastern Europe ( for about $150 with protective motorbike case) I headed for Prague.

Ok it is a tourist town – and despite all those associated drawbacks it is simply breathtaking ,particularly at night when the mellow lights reflect of the pastel walls and highlight the architectural effects.. There are palaces within palaces, churches, beer cellars, bridges all pushing hodge podge into each other. I spent two days here, just looking , travelling the trams , seeing the sights . Prague is a city that leaves a mental and physical calling card. It is a must see.

My new German GPS, Eva took me on a tiki tour through the Czech countryside and across the Polish border to Auswitch- the German concentration camp. I arrived late and stayed the night at a Catholic Church run hotel, which was host to umpteen German school parties and also members of the German defence forces.

I was the first through the gates of the camp the next morning. I just spent the next three hours in silence, trying to comprehend the horror that went on here during World War 2. I was not alone , the German school parties ,the previous night so upbeat, were somber, upset and reflective.

And it is in such a nice setting: trees, small lakes, flat to rolling country side. But it was just a factory, a factory designed to kill human beings at the least cost and realise the most profit to the Third Reich.

Sixty kilometers down the road is another baroque city, Krakow, the ancient capital of Poland. With its big central square , lively student population it is in many aspects a mirror of Prague but with a less commercial grasp and a feeling that it does not take itself too seriously.

My intention after Krakow was to head north to the Baltic states and take a side trip by bus to St Petersburg . However, three British bikers said head for the Ukraine – it is great motorcycling territory, easy to get a visa and there is a big motorcycle convention happening in a few days in Odessa

So Ukraine it was : What they neglected to tell me was the traffic police view foreign plate bikers as feedstock. But that is a whole new chapter

Till next time

Safe Riding