TRAVEL FEATURE - BULGARIA
GRAHAM FIELD
MAYBE I REALLY AM
HARDCORE
The cash deposit I ’ d paid was all
the ATM would give me , and a handwritten receipt was all I got back . So , once I ' d landed back in the UK , I transferred some money to my new Bulgarian bank account and jumped on the bike back to the European Union ’ s most easterly member . I was on a mission to turn the deposit into a purchase and the receipt into an official document of ownership before anything changed : minds , price , exchange rates or regulations .
The ferry docks late in Holland and , with no time to put my phone on charge , I ' m waved down the unloading ramp . It ’ s OK , I ' ve written the key towns and turn-offs on a piece of paper and put it in the tank bag . With a roaming signal I ' ve finally got a response from the ex I texted . She ’ s not home , she ’ s in Holland . ‘ So am I ’, I write , but the reply is slower than I am . It ’ s Friday night rush hour round Rotterdam but the traffic is calm and considerate . Within three hours I ' m in Germany and speed limits are irrelevant . I sit at my comfortable cruising speed of 130 kilometres per hour – well , I thought it was 130kph , but my phone says it ’ s actually 120kph . For all this time I ' ve been less illegal than I thought I was . I ' m not sure how I feel about that .
It ’ s the perfect summer evening and I want to ride as much of it as I can . The sun sets in my mirrors and I grab glances over my shoulder to see it without reflection . Sunsets , hopefully , will start to make a regular appearance in my life again soon . I ’ d love to ride right through Germany , right through the night . I don ’ t know where I will stop or stay tonight and the liberation of that feeling keeps me going into the summer darkness . West of Kassel I pass a windfarm standing in a field of golden swaying wheat . Stopping in a parking lay-by , I walk into the field and find a little
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