donji milanovac

Donji Milanovac to Negotin

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Today started with a minor disappointment: Miguel told me that he and his girlfriend could not ride today. She awoke with a sore throat and decided to rest. It has been a while since I had a riding partner, so I was looking forward to their company. No problem though, because I was able to set my own pace, which spat me out 130km down the road in Negotin. 

Bye bye, friends!

The climb out of Donji Milanovac is intense, a 10% gradient for three kilometers after a set of somewhat challenging rolling hills. I loved every second of it. This stage of the journey is ripe with photo-ops: the Iron Gates, the unique hillside monument to Decebalus, the last king of Dacia, and the varied facades of the Danube Gorge.

The Iron Gates are not as impressive or gawk-worthy as the maps and other blogs make them out to be. Once there I had the “choice” of crossing into Bulgaria. I say “choice” because I don’t consider crossing into steady semi-truck traffic without a shoulder an option.

Stay in Serbia as long as the route allows. 

That’s The Iron Gates there, folks…

After a challenging 60 kilometers and the massive yet underwhelming Iron Gates, I was ready to call it quits in Koldovo. That was until I rolled into town and saw a sign that explained the next city was only 67km away. 

I got tempted, got burek, then got going and crushed another 67km through road construction, dirt roads, and, some nice river riding.

I’m glad I kept going because Negotin has a lot going on.  There’s a summer night bazaar along the pedestrian corridor. I stopped at a grocery store for some Serbian puffed peanut snacks then ate at a pizza spot before calling it a night.

Today’s Miscellany

Burek: Breakfast, lunch, and what comes after a liquid dinner
There’s a face back there somewhere
The pullup challenge
I call it: Death on a Hill

Stara Palanka to Donji Milanovac

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Silver Lake, Serbia

I got up early and skipped the meat-heavy pension breakfast to make the 7:30 am ferry across the river, which took about six minutes. It was surreally beautiful, replete with a castle, reflective water, and wild dogs that take the ferry back and forth all day.

Just after the ferry ride, I stopped in Veliko Gradiste to find dog spray and breakfast. I couldn’t find dog spray, which ended up being fine. Just getting off the bike and waiting for dogs to lose interest was probably a better strategy than ratcheting up a confrontation anyways.

I did, however, find breakfast. I finally made time to try Serbia’s legendary, oil-drenched, crispy, and, dare I say, divine: Burek. After burning the living hell out of the roof of my mouth, I took in the fast pace at the cafe’s intersection then I was on my way.

This leg of the journey is second only to Passau to Linz for its beauty. It’s the start of the somewhat-famed 21-tunnels along the Danube Gorge in Serbia. I’d read that the tunnels are pitch black and shoulderless and to an extent they are. But most of them are short enough that you can see the exit as you enter. I do recommend a good headlight and taillight for the four-or-so longest tunnels.

Just before the first tunnel I lucked out and crossed paths with a bunch of German cycle tourists. Without a word, I joined their group until the Lepenski Vir archeological site. Safety in numbers. Cars respected our group of 15 or so cyclists.

Off to the left of the main route is the Lepenski Vir museum. I recommend visiting. Be sure to bring cash with you and don’t be afraid to take your bike down the path to the museum. I didn’t know either of these things so I ended up taking a round trip 25-minute walk only to find that I couldn’t enter.

Even if you don’t want to spend the money to enter the museum it’s still worth riding your bike up to the entrance. There is a large excavation site with a few of the sculptures on display there for free.

The Lepenski Vir museum

From there, it was a short ride into Donji Milanovac, a quaint little town with what might be the world’s smallest beachfront. The place to stay there is a hostel just after the EuroVelo signage pointing into town. At 7eur, the hostel is a steal. Lots of cyclists stop there. 

Some wonderful cycling signage

At the hostel, I met a fabulous couple from Mexico, Miguel and…I forget his girl friend’s name…They generously gave me a bowl of lentils for dinner. I ordered a round for the three of us then we were off and talking. We touched on cycling tours, Balkans history and politics, and managed a healthy heaping of Trump-bashing. 

Tomorrow I’ll ride past the Iron Gate Dam and decide whether to cross into Bulgaria or not.