It’s Sunday. The day begins with the heaviest snowfall in Istanbul in 25 years. The reports are all over the news. It’s just below zero degrees, cold north wind and lots of slush. Extremely poor cycling conditions and then decide to go anyway, because Monday the lockdown is over and I would then have to go through the traffic chaos again. Since everything is wet immediately and the wind is blowing so hard that I can hardly see anything, it is bitterly cold. I only manage 70 kilometers and want to continue the next day on smaller roads. All of a sudden there is a real snowstorm and chaos breaks out on the roads. The cars skid and break down. The snow removal doesn’t keep up, because one is not used to such things here. I get as far as Kirklareli, the last bigger town before the Bulgarian border, where I take another Coronatest, which I need for the entry into Romania.
The border is at 1300 meters. I drive down to Bulgaria and have to step on the gas because I will meet Markus Weinberg in Constanta and of course also because of the limited validity of the Coronatest.
The next day it snows again. I make speed, drive in the evening still by Warna and to 40 kilometers before the Romanian border. I set up my tent in the snow in a forest. Unfortunately I have no winter equipment with me and the cold comes from below through the mat. I freeze myself through the night. In the morning it is minus 9 degrees.
In Constanta I meet Markus, who arrives a bit late. We spend the night in Constanta and the next day we continue with the boring roads. Agriculture or heavy industry from communist times.
In the evening we find an abandoned cowshed where we can spend the night, but it also still smells quite fresh.
The next day we drive to Galati, just before the Moldavian border.
