Days 7-10

This is the part of the story I don’t want to tell.  It started out as much an adventure as the rest of this amazing trip had been and then took a hard left, but we’ll get there.

Getting up early the next morning I set off across the postcard pretty mountains of Slovenia towards the Croatian border.

While there had been a crossing point into Slovenia the Croatian border was the first place I’d had to present my passport, adding to my “grew up in the cold war” sense of wonder at having travelled so far into a world I had never dream of seeing as a kid.

The Croatian border, Eastern Europe proper

My memory of Croatia is that the entire country seem to have been built along a single road that wound endlessly through a never-ending small town.

The endless, pretty small town that stretched all the way across Croatia

The big surprise of the day however was reaching Hungary. Crossing the border in the afternoon I was stunned to find myself riding through the scenery of my youth, it was Swazi farm land!

 Swazi farmland in Hungary.

The sights and smells of home were overwhelming, coupled with a deep sense of alienation every time I passed a road sign, and flashed into the present.

As the day wore on I arrived in Mohcs (mo hash) and came upon the Hotel Stz Janos. I decided to spend the night here and press on to the Romanian border in the morning. The old saying about telling the gods your plans to make them laugh haunts me as I write that.

Hotel Szt Janos.

The stunning view as I had dinner

As night fell I went to bed, the heat was intense and I asked to have my room moved as the aircon didn’t seem to be working to well in the first room I was put in.

I had a cold shower, wrapped some ice in a towel put it round my neck and tried to get some sleep.

At 3am I woke up to a familiar sensation, mild nausea, a head ache and a little dizziness. I had heat stroke, I’d had it before, I got up and went to get a glass of water and get myself rehydrated. As I swigged it, it became clear something else was up, nausea slammed into me and I convulsed, throwing up, the world lurched to the left and began an uncontrollable spin. I staggered to the room phone and dialled reception. I asked them to get me an ambulance but the language barrier slammed down between us and I realised I would need to get down there to get some help, I grabbed the first clothes I could, and hanging onto the wall staggered down.

Seeing the state I was in the girls on reception got me sat down and got and ambulance, very likely saving my life.

Arriving in hospital I managed to explain I had got dehydrated and was probably suffering from heat stroke, I was put on a drip and kept for observation for 8 hours. At this point a passing neurologist noticed me and after a brief exam told me they were keeping me for three days and sent me for a cat scan. I was hunched in wheel chair waiting for this when a woman sat opposite me started laughing, she spoke English and could read my “Walking Dead” T-shirt.

She gave me a reassurance the really settled me for some reason, saying don’t worry they know what they’re doing.

Getting dressed in the dark on the way to hospital can lead to amusing fashion choices.

It took a day before I could walk and three before I was up to flying back to the UK. In that time the amazing people at the hotel kept my stuff, allowed me to leave my bike in their conference room and got me a cab all the way to the airport.

My amazing love Linda and incredible friend Wayne kept me calm and got me home. More importantly they have kept me going as I’ve recovered and stood beside me getting on with seeing some more of this amazing place we call home.