Slow Train to Serbia

Friday & Saturday 17 & 18 Jan 2020 It was always going to be a long day on the rails – 13 hours and 3 trains. But we didn’t quite appreciate how slow we would be going!

The first train stopped for an hour at the last station in Bulgaria to allow for passport checking. It then trundled across the border to the first station in Serbia where we were kept on board for half an hour for the Serbian border force to take its turn. We were then released to board the next train which was waiting at the next platform but then sat around for another 30 minutes whilst we waited for the departure time.

At least the second train kept moving – just! It took 3 hours to cover the 100 km to Nis stopping (thankfully briefly) at every station in the way even if some of them were no more than a delapidated shed in the middle of nowhere. The upside was that there was a long stretch climbing up through a stunning rocky gorge with high cliffs on both sides and a river down below. It was rather gorgeous (no pun intended!).

The final train from Nis to Belgrade moved a bit quicker thank goodness but had further to go and it also stopped at every station so it took 5 hours. We arrived at just after 9 o’clock and then made our way to the hotel where we collapsed exhausted despite having been sat down all day. It’s funny how tiring travelling is.

Waking refreshed and ready for the fray, we enjoyed a very pleasant breakfast at the hotel and headed off on a walking tour of the city that Stephen had plotted the night before. When we reached Belgrade in 2015 Christine remained in the hotel nursing her broken arm for the whole 4 days that we were here and Stephen only spent half a day sightseeing in between nursing the invalid and getting the bikes cleaned and boxed for the flight home.

Although not as appealing as Bucharest, we found more to see than in Sofia. There were two main highlights. Firstly there was the church of St Sava, construction of which started in 1935 but was halted because of the lack of finance during WW2 and much of the Communist era. The interior is not yet complete and not accessible. However, the crypt is open and we were absolutely stunned by the sight. It is so unlike any other crypt we have seen. With a lot of cream and gold, it is light and airy despite the relatively low ceiling and just full of colour and beautiful murals.

We were also impressed by the fortress which dominates the confluence of the Danube and one of its tributaries. It is simply huge! Sadly we have no photos as Christine discovered this evening that her camera had gone missing! 

Brass Monkeys in Bulgaria

Wednesday & Thursday 15 & 16 Jan 2020 Brrrrr. It’s cold in Bulgaria!

From central Istanbul we took the metro back to the suburb where the international trains start and end. As we arrived with more than an hour to spare (for all her extensive travelling cautious accountant  Christine always makes sure that she is at the station or airport early) we were grateful there was a warm waiting room in which to sit rather than on a chilly, draughty platform.

Once we climbed onboard the conductor came into our compartment several times to feel the output from the heating system which was clearly struggling. Slowly things warmed a bit and we were ok for temperature in bed with a thick blanket but it was never really comfortable.

The journey to Sofia was uneventful apart from the expected stop at 2.30 in the morning for the border crossing when we again all had to pile off the train to have our passports stamped by the Turkish border police. Ten minutes later, just as we were snuggled up in our beds, they knocked on the door to check them again. A bit later on it was the turn of the Bulgarians!

This third interruption proved to be the last thankfully and we dropped off to sleep. We woke to a landscape of wooded hills and shabby villages made pretty by a very heavy frost. 

We pulled into Sofia station nearly an hour late and so were grateful that we had followed The Man in Seat 61’s advice that you should expect to spend a night in the Bulgarian capital. Although according to the timetable you have half an hour to make the connection to the once a day Belgrade train, the reality is that the train from Istanbul is generally late. He also recommends the Favorit Hotel as cheap, comfortable and convenient for the station. He is, once again, dead right!

Whilst walking to the hotel we “enjoyed” a very light sleet/snow shower (or was it freezing fog?) – wet and cold is always a favourite with Christine. Luckily the hotel let us into the room even though it was only 10 o’clock (well before the official check in time) and we spent an hour or so washing and relaxing before heading out to see what Sofia had to offer. In that time the sleet/snow/fog had disappeared.

There were some nice churches and imposing brutalist style buildings – the 6th century (Roman of course) church of St Sophia was particularly impressive – but I’m afraid Sofia didn’t have the same appeal for us as Bucharest.

On Thursday we took a day trip (by train of course) to Plovdiv – 2.5 hours back towards Istanbul – which we had read is the longest continually inhabited city in Europe. It was also the European City of Culture in 2019. This was much more appealing (once away from the area around the station) with lots of Roman remains on display, some more sympathetically restored and displayed than others and, in the Old Town, many pretty buildings and churches. It felt very different and didn’t remind us of anywhere else we have been. It’s a place we can heartily recommend – go there rather than Sofia if you only you go to one place in Bulgaria.

Tomorrow it’s back on the train heading westwards with Belgrade as our destination.

Inimitable Istanbul

Sunday-Tuesday 12-14 January 2020 The train from Bulgaria terminated at a station on the outskirts of the city which was the start of one of the metro lines. After buying the Istanbul equivalent of Oyster cards we hopped on board a train and headed towards the centre. Although Stephen had been to the city 4 or 5 before they had all been business trips and he only has the vaguest of ideas about the different parts or where the touristy bits are. And, in typical Christine and Stephen fashion, we had done little research or planning, so we thrashed around on four different metro trains trying to decide where to head for.

Eventually we returned to daylight near the Golden Horn and looked on booking.com for a decent nearby hotel. After negotiating what we considered a reasonable rate (500 lira or £65) for 2 nights in a small suite (a rather grand term!) we were pleasantly surprised that we were allowed into the room at 10 a.m. but we took full advantage and crashed out for 3 hours to catch up on the sleep missed the previous night.

Since then we have been exploring the city and thoroughly enjoying it. The Aya Sophia is awe inspiring – to think that such an enormous building more than 50 metres tall could be built nearly 1500 years ago! Equally impressive is the Basilica Cistern which is an underground reservoir 180 metres long, 50 metres wide and 9 metres high capable of holding 100,000 tons of water. This too was built by the Emperor Justinian in the 6th century.

We took a ferry across to Asia (as you do!) and walked along the bank of the Bosporus admiring mosques and soaking up the atmosphere as we went. Then another ferry and a tram ride (each costing about 40 pence) took us to the Grand Bazaar. This was really interesting but we preferred the one in Muscat which we visited almost a year ago where the vast majority of customers were local Omanis – Istanbul’s version is definitely more geared towards the tourists.

The Blue Mosque was quite underwhelming because the ceiling of the central part was obscured by scaffolding and a mezzanine which we assumed was for refurbishment and the walls at ground floor level were relatively plain. Above this they and the parts of the ceiling that we could see were stunning but the effect was spoiled for us by the renovation works and the crowds.

The bargain of the trip was a cruise on the Bosphorus – for less than £3 each we had 1.5 hour trip up the European side to the second of the two bridges over the waterway and back down the Asian side. Granted the English commentary was somewhat limited being about 1/10 of the length of the Turkish version but, as Christine pointed out, the view is just as impressive even if nobody is telling you at what you are looking.

The weather has been very kind to us – chilly but not as cold as we feared it might be. There were a few spots of rain as we arrived but since then it has been dry and the sun came out after the first day.

As stated above we have had a great time here. We considered heading further east – our tickets would take us all the way to Kars which is close to the Armenian border. However, from Ankara the trains are slow and we read that the temperature was -16°. So we are starting to make our way homewards at a leisurely pace probably with a couple of diversions as we off through the Balkans. We are still pinching ourselves to believe that we have ridden right across Europe and spent three days in Istanbul having left home little more than a week ago!

Bulgarian Bummel

Saturday 11 Jan 2020 (Bummel is one of Christine’s favourite German words meaning a slow journey and is also in the title of one of her favourite books Three Men On A Bummel by Jerome K Jerome, a sequel to the Boat book.)

An 11 o’clock train meant a leisurely start to the next leg of our journey which would take us from Bucharest to Istanbul on 4 trains over more than 18 hours. This took us out through the scruffy western suburbs of Bucharest into the countryside which was as flat as a pancake and characterised by enormous fields, poor looking villages and piles of rubbish alongside the track.

After 2 hours we arrived at the last town in Romania where a policeman took the passports of all 8 passengers (3 Aussies, an elderly Chinese lady, a Hispanic Canadian, a young Luxembourgish lad and us) away for 20 minutes. We were all very relieved he returned them!

Jumping back on the train we crossed the Danube which forms the border round here and into Ruse in Bulgaria. Again our passports were whisked away for checking but returned more quickly this time. A short wait and we were off on the second train to Gorno Orjahova somewhere in the middle of deepest, darkest Bulgaria. As we moved away from the river the countryside became more rolling but the villages still looked poor and we saw several horse-drawn carts.

At Gorno Orjahova we changed trains again with over an hour’s wait in between which the the Luxembourgish lad used to find WiFi in a local bar to arrange his Turkish e-visa. (He had been a little surprised when Christine told him that she had read these are not issued at the land border we were going to cross – unlike at Turkish airports.)  However, it transpired that Luxembourg citizens do not need a visa unlike us Brits. We used the time to reserve a 2 berth couchette on the last (overnight) leg of the journey as this hadn’t been possible in Romania.

The third train of the day, although nothing to shout about from the outside, was definitely a step up on the previous two when it came to the interior. It even had power points so we could top up the charge in our phones, etc. We couldn’t see much out of the windows because night had fallen but there was one point, when we were at nearly 1,000 merits altitude, where there was several inches of snow lying on the ground.

We reached Dimitrovgrad right on time at just after 10 o’clock having taken 11 hours to cross a little of Romania and most of Bulgaria. This was where we were expecting and hoping to catch the sleeper train to Istanbul. Promisingly the arrivals display showed that the train was running only 5 minutes late and so we were optimistic that, with a scheduled 30 minute halt, we would be leaving on time. The three of us settled down to wait for 10 minutes. We were the only people on the station apart from four policemen.

Our optimism was rewarded by the train turning up as promised and the couchette attendant showed us to our cabin. We couldn’t really settle down to sleep because we knew that an hour or so later we would reach the border. Firstly, as we reached the last town in Bulgaria, their police knocked on the door and took our passports away to check that we were allowed to leave the country. This completed, we trundled over the border and then stopped at the first town in Turkey for the Turkish authorities to have their turn. This was a more onerous procedure as we all had to disembark with our luggage. We had to queue to show our passports and get them stamped. Thankfully the three carriages of the train were only carrying 20 passengers so this wasn’t too lengthy a process. Then we moved down the platform to have the luggage scanned. This was a very cursory inspection as the cases went through the scanner very fast and the one official didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the screen.

This all took well over an hour so we were grateful that we weren’t crossing in the high season and this combined with putting the clock forward an hour for the Turkish time zone meant that we had only 4 hours until we reached our final station on the outskirts of Istanbul.

We are so chuffed to have travelled overland all the way to Istanbul on a total of 12 trains. When we set off we weren’t sure we would make it, but thanks to the brilliant and accurate information on www.seat61.com it was far easier than we had imagined.

Beautiful Bucharest

Friday 10 Jan 2020 We took a day’s rest from the train travel in order to further explore Bucharest, particularly given that we may never return (a thought that is under serious reconsideration after today’s experience).

After breakfast we headed to the Casa de Bilete at the Gara da Nord (Christine is fascinated by the obvious close links that Romanian has with French and Italian) to book our tickets for tomorrow’s journey across Bulgaria. Here we “enjoyed” what many will think of as typical Communist era service with the lady insisting on completing punching holes in a large pile of papers before she deigned to serve these pesky foreign customers who were interrupting her very important task of filing. It must be said that this is a complete contrast to most of our experience here where waiters and shop assistants have been very helpful and generally excellent at English.

This task completed, we headed back towards the historic centre (which we had briefly passed through yesterday) by way of Cismigiu Garden which was rather nice apart from the drained lake and the semi derelict restaurant in the middle. The centre has many fine buildings from the 19th and early 20th centuries but we also found the tiny Stavropoleos church dating back to 1724 which has an incredibly ornate wooden interior and lovely carved doors.

After a couple of hours wandering and sustained by coffee/hot chocolate and slices of pizza (costing less than £1 – Romanian prices are in the very affordable band) we headed north to Herastrau Park and the National Village Museum. This was started in the 1930s and has around 100 old houses, churches, windmills and barns from various parts of the country. They were all very different to British buildings with many having steeply sloping, wooden tiled roofs. Most were circled by fences of various types, some of which had their own little roofs as well.

We came back past Bucharest’s equivalent of the Arc de Triomphe (which amusingly translates as Arcul de Triumf in Romanian) and through the embassy quarter to complete a 18km walk around a city which has surprised and charmed us quite unexpectedly.

A Surprising Gem

Wednesday & Thursday 8 & 9 Jan It was a leisurely start to the day as we had decided to catch the 11.30 train to Vienna. Stephen popped out to the nearby supermarket for croissants for breakfast in the room and some excellent German rolls and cheese for lunch. Then we had a short walk back to the station via a local park and past the imposing palace of justice.

The journey through Bavaria and into Austria started Christine reminiscing about our bike ride down the Danube nearly five years ago (sheesh is it really that long since we set out on the Big Trip?) which led to a broken arm just outside Belgrade and also our many other holidays in the area. The Alps were visible with a dusting of snow, the lakes looked beautiful (but cold too) and all the towns were picture postcard pretty and spotless.

We alighted in Vienna and headed to the ticket office to book ourselves on the evening sleeper to Bucharest via Budapest. There we were given the bad news that they could not book us in couchettes but we might be able to arrange them on the train. We sat down to explore our options and saw that there was a train leaving for Budapest in a few minutes which arrived there about 40 minutes before another train to the Romanian capital left. We rushed to Platform 9 – and found ourselves back on the train we had just left!

Another city, another ticket office and again we were told they could only reserve seats for us but we might be able to arrange couchettes on the train. Deciding that that seemed to be the way of the world we went for it.

By now we had less than half an hour before the train left in which to buy ourselves dinner and food for the next day because the train was due in to Bucharest just after noon and there was no buffet or restaurant car. To make life even more interesting we only had about £1.25 in Hungarian money! 

A quick dash into KFC with payment by card and two sandwiches from a little stall in the station paid for with a mixture of our few forints and some Euro coins meant that we would not starve so we joined the shabby old Romanian train and settled down to wait for the conductor. Luckily the train was far from full (we can’t understand why there aren’t throngs of people wanting to travel overnight from Budapest to Bucharest in early January!) so we secured two beds in an otherwise empty four berth couchette compartment.

After all the excitement we decided to have an early night and turned in just after 9 o’clock. We were just drifting off when the train stopped and the conductor opened the door to murmur something about the border before he hurried off down the train. Christine hurriedly dressed and was decent by the time the door was unceremoniously flung open by a Romanian policeman asking for our passports. He went away satisfied thank goodness and after a 40 minute stop the train set off again.

But only for about 5 minutes before it stopped again and the door was opened by another police officer (female this time) who also wanted to see our passports. It is not clear to us why there were two separate checks so close together but hey ho.

That proved to be the last of the interruptions to our sleep and we woke on Thursday morning to the sight of fields and trees covered in snow as we climbed up into some mountains (the Carpathians?) in the middle of Romania.

The heating in the compartment was pretty woeful but in the corridor seemed nonexistent – you could see your breath as you made your way to the loo. (And you did “your business” as quickly as possible, there being a big disincentive to having a leisurely sit down!)

The ride through the mountains was very pretty with snow several inches thick in places but once we got down onto the plain it had all disappeared.

Arriving in Bucharest, we checked into a hotel near the station and headed off, without rucksacks, into the city. We were very pleasantly surprised. The guidebook said that the city didn’t deserve its bad rep and we would agree. There are some rather impressive buildings set on wide boulevards. Some buildings may be a little shabby or dilapidated but there are many grand ones. It seemed to us to have echoes of Paris or Vienna, even if not so illustrious yet – just give it a few decades.

We had read about the Palace of Parliament which was built by the former dictator Nicolai Ceausescu and us the second largest adminstrative building in the world (after the Pentagon). Of course it was a folly built at vast expense paid for by the impoverished people but you could say the same of the medieval cathedrals in Western Europe which we admire so much! We were left impressed by the building but conflicted by the effect it had on the people.

Off We Go

Tuesday 7 Jan 2020 The train from Worcester to Birmingham was surprisingly uncrowded compared with previous rush hour journeys we have taken on that route so we managed to get seats all the the way and they were even next to each other!

The journey continued smoothly via (1) train to Euston (2) short walk to St Pancras (3) Eurostar to Brussels (we decided French railways were too difficult at this time and we could get a refund of our Paris tickets because of the disruption) (4) short but extremely smooth change in Brussels to see us on the German ICE train to Frankfurt.

However, it all appeared to be going wrong shortly after we crossed into Germany when there was an announcement that the train would be stopping at the next station due to a technical fault. We would have to wait for another train for Frankfurt which made it look unlikely that we would make it connection to get us to Munich that evening as hoped.

We should have had more faith in Deutsche Bahn! After a 15 minute wait an empty train pulled into the platform and we all piled on. It sped off and pulled into Frankfurt Airport station only 10 minutes late meaning that we still had 3 or 4 minutes to wander across to the next platform for the Munich train.

We could now book the hotel in the Bavarian capital using the train WiFi with confidence that we wouldn’t waste another night’s hotel cost (in the kerfuffle of changing plans we had booked a room in Mulhouse in eastern France for the previous night – I told you cockup was involved!)

We rolled into Munich main station and a 5 minute walk saw us settled in our hotel in southern Germany 14.5 hours after leaving home.

Trains Not Bikes

Monday 6 Jan 2020 Stephen hasn’t (quite) forgotten how to write a blog post even though the last one was nearly 18 months ago and left our readers dangling in the US! Sorry if we left you on tenterhooks but we returned home for the funeral of Stephen’s uncle and then “life” got in the way.

Anyway, we off on our travels again! Christine has always hated the British winter (cold, dark, wet, miserable) and aspires to heading off somewhere warmer after Christmas for as long as she can get away with. Last year she surprised Stephen with an 8 week trip to the Middle East and The Maldives to celebrate his big Six Oh. This year the plan was a bit more modest – a train trip to Sicily, perhaps with a side trip on the ferry to Malta or even Tunisia thrown in.

As soon as the cheap Eurostar tickets came available in October Christine was on the computer booking us in to Paris and then trains down to Rome via Milan. The planning then ground to a halt while we waited for Italian railways to get their cheap tickets to the south sorted and Christmas got in the way.

However, over the festive period we received an email saying that because of the strike action being taken by French railway workers (plus ça change…..) our sleeper train from Paris to Milan was cancelled. This prompted a furious tapping of the keyboard to find out how we could get out of Paris and on to Italy. 

The costs started to mount up and then a suggestion was made that it might be cheaper to do it with an Interrail ticket. This seemed like a good idea but then it occurred to Christine that we could perhaps go further afield with such a flexible ticket. In fact we could relive our student days! So she leapt into her favourite website (www.seat61.com) investigating how to reach Istanbul by train.

And that’s where we’re going. Due to technical reasons (I’m not going to explain but “cockup” may be involved!) we are not leaving today as originally intended when Sicily was our destination but are off tomorrow. This has given us a chance to do the packing in a slightly more measured fashion (but we’ll still find we have forgotten something inevitably) and let Stephen go on his usual Monday morning bike ride with the U3A.

White Pass and Mt St Helens

22/8/18.  Jake’s father took the hikers back to where they had finished on Monday morning and they set off into the wilderness for two days before they crossed a road again at a place called White Pass where there is a convenience store and gas station, a small hotel and some ski lifts. At the moment there is also a large tented village with food and sanitation trucks for the firefighters who are battling a couple of wildfires in the area.

We had arranged to meet Eleri there so that we could hand over the rest of her supplies (after White Pass it is 5 days’ walk to the next resupply point) and her replacement shoes which were due to be delivered to Cascade Locks on Monday. We had a lovely scenic drive up the Columbia Gorge, picking the shoes up on the way, before turning north into the Yakama Indian Reservation and the Yakima River valley where 75% of the US’s hops are grown.

At the town of Yakima we joined the White Pass Scenic Byway and climbed up through the forested Tieton valley to the eponymous pass which is at 4,500 feet where we hoped to meet Eleri either late the next afternoon or the following morning. We found a basic campsite (drop toilets, no running water but only $8) which was almost empty but could not really be described as “quiet” given its proximity to the road which has a significant number of large trucks passing along it. We read the next day that the road was only completed in 1951 – amazing for a road designated US12.

After checking out the convenience store at the pass we headed down the road for a day of sightseeing. Along the way there were a couple of viewpoints at which we stopped. The first looked north west to Mt Rainier, the highest mountain in Washington state at 14,400 feet and considered one of the world’s most dangerous volcanoes. With visibility impaired by the smoke from the fires we could just see the mountain and the many glaciers at its summit and it looked impressive. It must be doubly so when visibility is good.

The second viewpoint faced the Palisades, a rocky cliff formed thousands of years ago when hot lava was suddenly chilled and cooled into hexagonal columns. It, too, was stunning.

We then headed for Mt St Helens which erupted in 1980 when more than 500 million tons of ash and smoke poured out of the ground killing more than 50 people. Vegetation is only slowly returning to the area to the north of the volcano and a lake at the foot of the mountain still has a huge number of trees flaring in it – the aftermath of a “tidal wave” which reached 800 feet up the surrounding slopes when a large part of the mountain slid into the lake. The surface of the lake is still 200 feet higher than it was before the eruption!  We found the whole story jaw dropping.

The next day the atmosphere was even more smokey with visibility even more impaired and a much stronger smell everywhere. After breakfast we emptied all of our belongings, including the bikes, from the car into the tent in case we were required to provide taxi services because the trail coming from the south was diverted away from the fires and emerged onto the road 3 or 4 miles down the hill. We knew that several of the people Eleri was walking with (she is currently in a group of six) had posted boxes of food and other supplies to the convenience store to save carrying them part of the way so they had to get to the Pass.

After checking that they were not already at the store we drove down to the point where the alternative route emerged and sat down to wait. After a couple of hours a hiker appeared and we offered him a lift to the store which he gratefully accepted.

After returning to the spot and waiting another half an hour for Eleri we spotted another couple of hikers getting out of a car. One of them shouted “Are you English and are you waiting for your daughter?”

It turned out that she had taken a different alternative route and spent the night in a small town another 20 miles down the road. She then hitched a lift, stopped at the point we had been waiting when we were doing the Good Samaritan thing and then gone on to the Pass whilst we were driving back down!

When we finally met up there was another round of hugs and parental purchasing of provisions for the offspring, followed by a couple of hours waiting for her friends to make their way up from the town.

All too soon it was time to wave them on their way again. We hope to meet them again tomorrow when the trail crosses another road about 25 miles away.

It turns out that the decision not to wait until Eleri reaches Canada before springing the surprise was an excellent one, as the last 20 miles of the trail are closed because of more fires there and it is not possible to walk into Canada. The hikers are all praying for rain in the coming days in the hope that it will be reopened in time for them to complete the trail.

Surprise, Surprise

19/8/18. As you may have seen from the previous post we are on the West Coast of the US to give our daughter Eleri a big surprise. She has been walking the Pacific Crest Trail from the Mexican border to Canada since early April and is now on the last stretch.

Back in February, when our house in Surrey was on the market but not yet sold, we had the idea that we could meet her as she finished the Trail but, because we didn’t know when she would finish, we had a problem.  She had a start date and thought it would take about 5 months, so we decided to fly 3 weeks either side of her estimated target date of 5 September and make a long holiday of it with the bikes in British Columbia, Washington and Oregon.

We also thought it would be good fun to see her face when she finished the 2,650 mile hike and unexpectedly saw her parents at the same time. We just hoped that she wouldn’t be too shocked or embarrassed !

In the months that followed, whenever we spoke to her, it was mighty difficult not blurting out the secret. Agreeing to sell the house and moving out in May didn’t complicate matters. What did, however, was finding our new house and being unable to move in until 1 August – only 2 weeks before we were due to fly to Vancouver. But the flights were booked so we were going! If we hadn’t unpacked everything by then it would still be waiting for us when we got back at the end of September.

As things drew closer we began to have doubts about delaying the meeting until Eleri was at the end and so made the decision to hire a car and drive to wherever she was straight after we arrived on the West Coast.

The flight was, thankfully, unremarkable other than being the first time either of us had flown on an Airbus 380 (the enormous double decker jobs) and was followed by a bus trip (courtesy of the American rail company, Amtrak) to Seattle the next day. We had a night in a most odd hotel – the address was 605½ (similar to Platform 9¾ in the Harry Potter books) Main St – which we discovered subsequently is a Historic Monument because it was a boarding house catering for Japanese immigrants saying dating back to 1910. It has been preserved in the same state as when the Japanese were rounded up and sent to camps following Pearl Harbour. An authentic 1940’s experience with creaky bedsprings, ancient sinks and bathroom down the hall!

Then we picked up a car and headed for Portland, Oregon, because Eleri had just crossed into Washington state and was spending a couple of nights in a very small town called Cascade Locks, where there was a “show” for hikers at the weekend.

The next problem was how to locate her without calling her and letting her know we were in town! On her phone she had an app which showed her location when she was in a place  with a phone signal and this showed her to be at the western end of the long, narrow town. So on the Saturday morning we arranged on WhatsApp to have a “chat” with her in an hour’s time and headed of down the interstate to Cascade Locks. She had said she was going for breakfast so we found a diner in the vicinity of her location and there she was in the breakfast queue!

As you can see from the video it was a complete surprise for her and rather an emotional one for all three of us. She had thought a couple of things we had said recently were a little odd (nothing new there, then!) but had dismissed the thought while we were a little stunned that we had pulled it off! The group who she was with all seemed impressed with our feat and Eli, an Australian, said he was going to send a photo of the three of us to his parents asking when they were coming!

We spent the rest of the day with Eleri looking round the show (only small – she was grateful as the last thing she wanted to do was a lot of walking) and going for a drive up the very pretty Columbia River Gorge.

On Sunday we met up with Eleri and her friends for breakfast again but this time in Portland as Jake’s father (they are from Oregon) had given them a lift into town so they could go shopping for equipment at a big camping store and food supplies in somewhere larger than the small convenience stores in most trail towns.