Belgrade or Bust

Last year, I wrote a trip report (Here) on our efforts in Southern Eastern Europe, plus our aborted attempt to reach Belgrade. This year, we thought we’d try again to reach this hallowed destination, so here follows some ramblings of our renewed effort 2 weeks ago, together with some pictures:

Day 1 (29th August 2006) - 695 km in 10 hours:

I’d arranged to meet my friend Willi in Bled (Slovenia), so for speed, took the Autobahn to Munich. There was a massive traffic jam between Augsburg and Munich, but I managed to filter through, despite the extra width of panniers that are not usually fitted. I was actually surprised that when looking directly at the front of the bike, the BMW Vario-panniers on their narrowest setting don’t really add much width at all. Although there had been a lot of rain in Germany over the previous weeks, it stayed dry until a quick lunch stop near Bad Aibling. Cutting across country from here, the rain stopped shortly before the Austrian border.

Rather than take the expensive Grossglockner pass, I opted for the much cheaper (EUR 8) Felbertauern Panoramastrasse, which is nowhere near as good as the Grossglockner, but cheap and time-efficient. Running with the low fuel light and the trip computer showing a range of 23 km, I coasted in Neutral on the downhill side, having no idea when the next filling station would show up (but made it to one anyway!) Once in Southern Austria, I took the Wurzenpass into Slovenia – the same route as last year, which was still as impressive. Using one of the excellent (and free, to members!) ADAC Motorcycle route maps, I followed a “scenic” route via the Triglav National Park on unsurfaced roads to Bled. During a short photo stop, the only noise to be heard was a small stream babbling beside the road and birdsong. Mountains were left and right of the road, and dark storm clouds were looming overhead. I was thinking to myself that this wouldn’t be much fun if it started raining out here, then on cue, 5 minutes later, the heavens opened! I can confirm that Michelin Anakees are brilliant road tyres, but not the best choice for wet, unsurfaced roads and are really traction-challenged on wet wooden bridges!

I finally met up with my friend Willi by the Bled Casino, where we rode to the Pension “Zerovc” – clean, spacious and excellent value at EUR 33 per night including breakfast and garage parking for the bikes.

Day 2 (30th August 2006) - 537 km in 10 hours:

Woke up to rain pounding on the roof. We had a relaxing breakfast and got away later than expected (9:45). To gain some time in the poor weather, we took the motorway first to Ljubljana, then further to Novo Mesto, where we cut across land towards the Croatian border. After crossing, we stopped to dry out (and make us wet on the inside) at the first combined petrol station/café.

Suitably refreshed, we took the road South towards Plitvica. Many fields were flooded and I couldn’t help thinking that this would be a good time to visit Plitvica again with so much water available. The old border crossing from Croatia to Bosnia Herzegovina that we took last year is now closed, having been superceded by a new building and a tarmac road instead of the old unsurfaced track. From here, we rode as last year to Bihac, even stopping at the same café for lunch. The staff were just as pleased to have foreign visitors and even went to the extent of sending someone who spoke German to our table to ask if they could help us.

During the lunch stop (which consisted of just a Cappucino for quicks), after a total of 6 hours non-stop rain, the heavens decided they had no more precipitation to offer and we set off under dry clouds, but still on a wet road. Bihac is actually a really nice town – very green and a very pleasant river with a few rapids, but time didn’t allow us to stay too long – perhaps next year will be different? Continuing the journey, in a small village in the middle of nowhere, we were stopped for the first time by the friendly (seriously!) Bosnian police for speeding.

The routine goes as follows: “Hello, how are you? Where are you from? Where are you heading? Nice bikes – what capacity are they? How many Horsepower do they have? Can I see the documents please? Mmm…There is a big problem with the speed. We measured you (somehow both bikes at the same time!?!) doing 83 km/h, do you know that the speed limit is only 50 here?”

On entering the village, sure, we slowed down for the 50 km/h zone, but after some time, there were no more houses and just open fields, so we opened up a bit. The police were of course waiting about 200m from the end of the 50 km/h zone, making us easy pickings. Cost: €20 each.

The amusing final statement from the police was, “There’s no problem with going too fast, only when there’s a policeman around”. They then warned us to keep the speed down and sent us on our way €40 lighter.

Shortly after, we had a very enjoyable ride through the mountains towards the Croatian border. The weather was finally dry, but rather cool, since many of the mountains here are approaching the 2,000m mark. One descent had me grinning from ear to ear, basically because it was like some perverted video game. In every single corner, there was an obstacle to avoid, a real test of wits – something like, “right hand corner, pothole on the racing line, left hand corner, gravel in the middle, right hand corner, large rock towards the left, left hand corner, pothole on the right, medium sized rock on the left”, and so on”. If there’s one lesson to be learned, it’s “don’t go charging blindly into the next corner on a Bosnian mountain road!”.

Speed traps were also very apparent on crossing into Croatia, but we managed to anticipate them well and/or were able to brake quickly enough. Arriving relatively late in Split, we didn’t feel like trawling through the city to find somewhere to sleep, so headed East and followed signs from the main road to the Hotel Zvonimir in the small town of Stobrec, which starts where Split ends. It was rather expensive (€60) for a tiny, hot room, but the hotel was extremely close to the pleasant harbour front with many restaurants and bars and proper secure garage parking for the now filthy bikes was included. It was also rather late by now and the aching shoulders said “yes, that’s OK”, rather than the brain.

An hour later saw us sitting in a small restaurant on the harbour, indulging in excellent grilled, fresh fish, prawns and mussels (me) and a grilled kebab (Willi), washed down with a good, local beer.

To be continued...

Day 3 (31st August 2006) - just 346 km in 10 hours:

The hotel walls were paper-thin, so I heard every tap dripping/toilet flushing/shower activity throughout the night and early morning. At least I woke up to a clear blue sky and sunshine, instead of rain on the roof as yesterday. We took the coast road as far as Brela, which is very picturesque, but also very full of black-smoke spewing trucks and “no overtaking” signs/road markings. The inland route towards Bosnia Herzegovina is just as good in its own way, and thankfully relatively vehicle free. We rode right into the middle of a market (literally!) in a village called Cista Provo (aka “Sister Provo”), then onwards over the border towards Mostar.

Mostar is a real gem of a town and much more pleasant than expected, although many buildings lie partially destroyed or are full of bullet holes. We had a cup of coffee with a delicious piece of “Baklava” in a small downtown café before queuing for ages in a bank to change some €50 notes into smaller denominations. In town, we rode without helmets as per the locals. Does anyone know if there’s actually a helmet law in Bosnia Herzegovina? If so, the local bike riders (and the police!) seem to ignore it.

We visited the old town and the famous (restored) bridge before riding the well-known Mostar to Sarajevo road. This runs through a gorge, alongside a greenish-turquoise river almost the whole way and through many tunnels. The Bosnians have somehow invented magic tunnels, which are so dark, they manage to suck every last candlepower from every bulb ever invented. We both thought at one point that our headlamp bulbs had failed – that’s how dark they are. They are also (as to be expected) completely unlit, wet and full of potholes, and on the minor roads, also with cobblestone surfaces.

Sarajevo is an interesting study in architecture. You can see all sorts of different influences as you pass through the city. Surprisingly, there were very few obvious signs of war damage, but the communist influence on the uglier concrete buildings was apparent. The “EURFOR” military presence was evident, with many US, British and Germany Army vehicles around. Many of the historic buildings are currently being renovated and I would guess that this will be a beautiful city to visit in 10 years time or so.
On returning to the bikes after a walk through the city, we were pleased to see the parking attendant (who we had spoken with before) keeping guard over our pride and joys. We spoke with him for a bit more and he told us about some of the hardships, like having to move to the city since his home town had been so badly bombed/shot up during the war. It makes you realise how lucky we have things sometimes!

East of Sarajevo, the road signs quickly switched to Cyrillic. On following a policeman’s directions for the correct road, we quickly decided that our local knowledge and Cyrillic reading skills were much better and took another route, only after turning the (bi-lingual) map over realising that his advice was in fact correct.

After filling up in Praca, we were stopped once again for speeding in exactly the same situation as before, with more or less the same routine and questions. The only difference this time was that they had no radar gun, no radar pistol and in fact no measuring devices whatsoever, but still managed to ascertain that we were speeding and it would cost €25. Per Person. Cash. The €50 note went straight into the lead policeman’s trouser pocket and no mention of a receipt was made. Oh well, according to my GPS, we were doing 98 km/h when we first hit the brakes, so a small price to pay in comparison with what it would have cost in Germany! As before, they were very friendly and courteous, and on learning that the 1200 has 98HP and 115Nm torque, they commented that their police car had only 40HP. On hearing this, I joked that next time we wouldn’t stop, and that they could chase us, however, the lead policemen pointed out that he was the one with the pistol….No competition, I guess!

The area we were now in was like being in a time-warp. We often saw people working in the fields with scythes and other hand tools, people with one cow on a lead, horses and carts etc. We also ventured into the darkest tunnel yet. This one was one half of two very old tunnels, but one half had been completely closed, leaving just this one controlled by traffic lights which switched to green every 5 minutes. As with the other tunnels, this one was unlit, very wet, potholed, cobblestoned and with quite a sharp curve in the middle. Shortly after the tunnel, the road surface ran out, as advised by the policemen – “But it will be no problem for this type of machine”. They hadn’t reckoned with each bike being at least 250kg fully loaded. We then fought away in the lower gears up a very steep, very potholed unmade mountain road, with darkness gradually approaching. Some 20km later, we asked a shepherd how far it was to the next town. The answer, “3 valleys further”. Yeah, right, thanks!

Shortly afterwards, we came across a new sign, stating, “Recreation Centre, 500m”. On first investigation, I guessed we were about one year too early, since there was too much building work going on, although further investigation revealed it was indeed habitable, with a log cabin available for one night for €35. It was rather cold (about 7 degrees C) due to the altitude (1000m), but otherwise perfect. The staff only spoke Bosnian, but we somehow managed, partly helped by my copy of “Point It”. If you’re not familiar with this little gem of a book, it’s basically a picture dictionary, full of pictures that you can point at instead of knowing the local word. Originally bought to supplement the English classes I give, it’s been a very well spent €5. It can also be entertaining of an evening trying to find out which pictures are NOT in the book. So far, I’ve established that “Bear” and “Shampoo” are missing, so if you’re a hair product salesman specialising in large, furry animals, this book is not for you!

Despite the extensive menu, there were only two choices available, but the food was excellent and again washed down with a good local beer.

More Pics from Day 3

I haven't really cracked this picture upload thing....

Excellent stuff so far

Great ride Dave and somewhere i'd like to go
Is it safe and friendly like other parts of Eastern Europe?
Do you buy insurance at the borders?

For pics, try www.photobucket.com, its free & upload to there and then you can 'cut and paste' links to pics hosted there, into your narrative to make it flow more and make it seamless

JohnnyBoxer said:

Is it safe and friendly like other parts of Eastern Europe?

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Just before we left, I heard about a lone F650GS rider being held up on the main road between Sarejevo and Foca, but this thankfully appears to be an isolated case. Otherwise, I certainly felt safer there than in most Western European countries. Bike security soon left our minds as well, even though many people warned us that this could be an issue.

Last year, we quickly realised how friendly and helpful the Bosnian people were and wanted to spend more time there this year. We weren't disappointed!

JohnnyBoxer said:

Do you buy insurance at the borders?

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German Green Card insurance covers all former Yugoslavian countries, so this wasn't an issue for us. It should be pointed out that on entry into Bosnia Herzegovina and Serbia and Montenegro that the Green Card is throughly checked as to whether it is valid for these countries. On entry/departure in Serbia and Montenegro and Croatia, a full cross-check between the Log book, Green Card and the bike's number plate was carried out.

JohnnyBoxer said:

For pics, try www.photobucket.com, its free & upload to there and then you can 'cut and paste' links to pics hosted there, into your narrative to make it flow more and make it seamless

Click to expand...

Thanks for the tip, but I'm a bit of a Luddite sometimes...

Great report there Dave, thanks for taking the time to post it.

Have a wee read of MasterDabber's excellent FAQ on how to post images. It really is quite easy and as JohnnyBoxer rightly says it adds to the flow and enjoyment of a good report.

Clicky here.

Day 4 (1st September 2006) - 744 km in 12 hours 40 min:

Following a hearty breakfast, we set off further along the unsurfaced road towards Gorazde. After a short distance, we arrived at the first minefield of the region. Both sides of the road were taped off, with one or two “swept” walkways for those daring to venture further. Eventually a tarmac surface appeared, and with it a new set of obstacles, such as brushwood completely covering the road, caused by the locals collecting firewood. Thankfully they were friendly and very quickly cleared a space for us to ride through.

Gorazde appeared to be a serious war casualty, with bullet holes in every building still standing. Waiting at a set of traffic lights, one man was admiring the bikes, then noticed my “Kreis Rastatt” number plate. He then reeled off a list of local towns and told us he had worked in Germany for three and a half years!

The road to the Serbian border was just as good as the Mostar to Sarajevo road, again through a gorge, next to a very slow moving river and again with many tunnels to negotiate. The road surface was rather worn out and shortly before the border I had a heart-stopping moment when both wheels slid out from underneath me in the middle of a curve. Thankfully, I managed to save it!
We encountered friendly border guards in Serbia and Montenegro, one of who wanted us to enter his country pulling a wheelie! Unfortunately, too much weight and not enough skill prevented us from fulfilling his wish.

In Serbia, the mountain roads were of a similar standard to those in Bosnia Herzegovina, but the main roads were very congested and full of slow-moving trucks belching out black smoke. There were 3 different grades of diesel available at the pumps, the most expensive being “Euro-Dizel”, which I guess none of the truck drivers were using.

Everybody warns of (the regular!) police presence by flashing their lights at oncoming traffic. This method proved to be highly effective, since we didn’t have to contribute to the Serbian police retirement fund during our short visit there. We encountered many local sportsbike riders, who, rather than the customary wave or nod, prefer to beep their horns on seeing fellow bike riders.

During the afternoon, we finally achieved our goal. Although we had expected a nice sign announcing Belgrade in both Latin and Cyrillic script, a modern (and graffitied) sign announcing “Belgrade” welcomed us to the capital. It took us ages to get into the city centre, stuck between hoards of traffic all fighting to get through the many roadworks. It didn’t help that it was about 30 Degrees C, humid, dusty and dirty. The city itself was also a big disappointment, confirming the statement “the journey is better than the actual destination”.

We found an empty parking bay in the city centre, close to the main railway station, and were immediately approached by two policemen. One spoke almost perfect English and asked if we were “explorers”. On replying, “Yes, we’re explorers”, there followed the usual, “Where are you from?”, “What do you think of our country?” etc. They were really pleased that someone would think of riding all that way to visit their city. I enquired about how to pay for parking, and he replied that parking attendants have that responsibility, one of who he immediately called over (In English – “Hey you, please come here!”). An exchange then took place in which I caught the word “Explorers”, then the parking attendant kindly told that in our case, we could park for free.

After trudging through a small part of the city, we decided that now we had reached our goal, that was basically the end of the trip, and we decided to head back using the quickest route possible. Naturally, on leaving the city, the motorway was closed due to an accident, but we managed to find another point to join some way out of the city. We were a bit dubious, since our maps showed that the new stretch of motorway was not yet completed, but we were lucky.

There then began the long slog home using the motorway network to keep the time down. We saw many German registered cars in Serbia, but very few Germans driving them. We later spoke to a Turkish family who explained that the summer holidays were over and many were driving back to their jobs in Germany, with many covering a good 3,000 km in one hit.

The Serbian motorway stretch was rather interesting, with sheep often wandering about on the hard shoulder and we also saw a guy in the opposite lane driving in the same direction as us! The tolls were rather expensive – EUR 8 for the stretch in Serbia and then a total of EUR 15 once in Croatia. We had a bit of a laugh and a joke with a friendly (female) Serbian border guard before riding into the night towards Zagreb. Rather than stay in the capital, we took the exit towards Velika Gorica and found someone who advised us where a local Pension was. He also accompanied us in his car some of the way. Although the Pension was very well signposted, suddenly the signs ran out and we never did find the place, although we stumbled across a very nice hotel - The Garny Hotel, complete with fitness studio (which we didn’t use), sauna (which we didn’t use), swimming pool (which we didn’t use) and a bar (which we did use!). We had to wait ages for the food, since it was ordered from outside, but the local beer (“Karlovac”) tasted good after a long 12 hour 40 min ride.

Aidan1150 said:

Have a wee read of MasterDabber's excellent FAQ on how to post images. It really is quite easy and as JohnnyBoxer rightly says it adds to the flow and enjoyment of a good report.

Clicky here.

Click to expand...

Thanks for the advice, but since I've only a couple of photos remaining, I don't want to have to work out how to post on another website etc. Sorry if it spoils the flow!

A report on the last leg of the journey will follow soon.....

Day 5 (2nd September 2006) - 929 km in 14 hours:

Considering how close to the airport the hotel was, it was amazingly quiet. The day started off rather foggy, but the sun soon burned its way through the clouds. Although we wanted to get on the road, we chatted with the rather pleasant receptionist for a good half an hour after checking out about recent Bosnian history (she was Bosnian), so didn’t get started until 09:30. We fuelled up more or less straight away, with the petrol station attendant commenting that I had an English accent despite riding a German registered bike. The guy had a good ear for accents.

We continued on motorways through Croatia and Slovenia. The tolls in Slovenia were cheaper (on average EUR 1,80 per time), but were very frequent, popping up every 20 minutes or so, meaning the regular routine of gloves off, rummaging around in trouser pocket for money, paying, taking ticket, gloves on etc…

The motorway ran out in Ljubljana, which was full of holidaymakers making their way elsewhere. We took an alternative route cross-country to avoid the incessant motorway traffic jams. From Bled, we rode for a while in the Triglav National Park (more for a change of pace and scenery than for a quick way home), which included a good ride to a dead end on unmade roads, then via “normal” roads over the border into Italy.

We then took the Naßfeldpass into Austria, which was excellent, although very narrow in places. A highlight later on over the Gailbergsattel was catching up and overtaking a local Fireblade rider, who was kitted out with all the goodies – Alpine Stars leathers, Shoei race replica helmet etc. At least his iridium visor hid his shame when he eventually caught us up waiting at a red traffic light in his hometown.

We then rode via the Felbertauern Panoramastrasse, first joining the autobahn in Germany to avoid paying the expensive Austrian tolls / Vignette. Once on the autobahn, the right hand was nailed in one position almost the whole way back. During a quick coffee (for us) and petrol (for the bikes) stop, we spoke with a Harley-mounted couple, who were also on their way back from Croatia. We also spoke with two R1150GS mounted Italians on their way to Stuttgart.

Willi and I parted company at Pforzheim, then shortly afterwards, he headed North, and I South, then after 20 minutes I was greeted by rain. Ah, it’s good to be back! I finally arrived home at 23:30; Willi arriving at his home at 02:00.

Was that bridge Mostar? looks familiar(although it was it bits when I saw it), was unfortunate to be over there in 92/93 when the fighting was at it's worst, a beutiful country absolutely devasted, still makes me sad remembering back at the people I met over there, the good and the bad ones, the good because no-one deserves that and the bad because it makes you realise how low humanity can get

nedflanders said:

Was that bridge Mostar?(

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Yep, in all its restored glory.

nedflanders said:

still makes me sad remembering back at the people I met over there, the good and the bad ones, the good because no-one deserves that and the bad because it makes you realise how low humanity can get

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I know exactly what you mean. We met some wonderful people there, but at the same time some of the destruction really makes you think what goes through some people's minds. I certainly don't envy you being there during the fighting

Well I was alot younger then, 19 and had been back from the first Gulf War about a year, at that age you don't really think about whats happening, only when you get on abit do you realise how sad the place was.