Tim's Blakan Bike Blast 6 - Transalpina

Trying to find somewhere to stay in Alba Iulia was as good idea as any. It was just the idea was bad overall. There was nowhere.

I stopped at four hotels on the way, all full, all had cars rolling up asking for rooms. It was evening, the sun was setting, I was really tired, it was not looking good.

I stopped at a petrol station (with free wifi) on the outskirts of Alba Iulia. I fuelled the bike, added a bunch of snack food and a couple of beers to the bill which I paid by credit card, being very low on cash and started a web search. The usual sites had everything booked out, even round here. Then on booking.com I typed in Alba Iulia and saw a good hotel for a mere Eur 62, so I booked it, then tried to match the town map with Maps.Me. Nothing lined up. I asked the guys in the petrol station. No Via Roma in Alba Iulia. They pointed me west, towards Italy, that wasn't any help at all. Slowly it dawned on my befuddled brain, booking.com had brought up Alba, Italy. I'd booked and paid for a hotel room I was never going to use. Desperation makes you dumber.

So into town I went, moving on. Somewhere near the centre were two young German bikers who were just setting off to ride at night, which seemed very strange, but hey. They pointed to where I should be able to sleep 'undisturbed'. It was some medieval and Roman fortifications.

There were a few cars parked in this precious monument, I put the bike in a quiet spot, half hidden by a long-parked camper. As it was now dark I could scramble up the grass covered battlement and find a small dip in which to settle down.

It was dry  the raingear and padded bikers jacket worked as a base. I put the sleeping bag on top, took off the bike boots and used them covered by the tank bag, as a pillow.

Top tip, to reduce boot pong, liberally put talcum powder in the boots. 

Time for the beers and barbeque crisps (a little luxury, as crisps are little used in Italy so the flavours are limited).

It was blackout, no phone or iPad as I didn't want to be spotted by anyone who would object to a vagrant biker. But I was dog tired so drifted off quickly.

Sleep was fitful as people left the area steadily over the next couple of hours, but I kept my head down, out of the headlight beams.

Sometime in what seemed like the middle of the night a couple of cars arrived and there was music and load chatter. I was keeping my head down, imagining all sorts of book or film plots and really hoping this was not a drug meet where they started killing each other then eliminating witnesses.

It was not to be. A couple of hours later they were doing doughnuts in the car park park and roared off. I snuck a look at the time (well covered by the sleeping bag). It was 2 a.m. Dew was starting so I dug into the tank bag for an emergency blanket, which was really a glorified large sheet of tin foil, carefully folded. This keeps the heat in and the dew out and is an excellent piece of survival kit.

By 06:30 a cockerel had started up, dawn was breaking and I was cold. Time to benefit from the hydration pack, with its mineral salts, pack up and selfie. 

And off to the same petrol station on the edge of town for two bigs cups of hot tea and a wifi fix. Once warmed it was on to the Transalpina. Another famous road.

It started simply, as had the Transfagarasan. And wound steadily up a gorge into the mountains. As we climbed higher it got colder. I'd started cold and already had five layers on. None of them fully insulated but nevertheless a fair amount.

It wasn't enough. 

The scenery was gorgeous, Alpine (probably hence the name) with lots of plants and birds and rocks and things, but this was not a song by America. Just the road was deserted.

The river rushed and bounded, the road wound and climbed. It was glorious biking. Then boom, there was this...

 

and the Tiger deserved a rest.

 

... which it got, while I walked about to stretch the legs.

Then onwards and upwards and it got colder. Down to 5C. I was eager to find somewhere to stop, which took about another 20 minutes.

It looked friendly and set up for tourists. I needed a couple of minutes to get the helmet off and stumble over to a shack for some powdered herbal tea. Which didn't feel bikery, but it was the largest amount of hot liquid I could get quickly.
I was still shivering when I finished it.

I spread some of the wet gear on the bike and warmed up in the sunshine, enjoying a cheroot and watching people arriving, almost all from the south. Presumably that's where the tourists came from and the northern section was almost deserted that early in the morning.

Just behind this stop was a large gypsy camp. Romanys in Romania.

And the road kept climbing. After the camp the trees stealthily disappeared, to be replaced by traffic, mainly coming from the other direction.

And the stopping points got filled with photo snappers and picnicers, strollers and families enjoying the sunshine and open space. And the views.

It was warmer, even up here more than 2 kilometres high. 

So I enjoyed it, pottering along and admiring the view, and the people.

And steadily winding downwards to find a town with somewhere for a very well deserved lunch. I was hungry.