We often meet other cyclists who stick to the main roads and cover bigger distances than us (we usually cover 50-60kms per day – sometimes more, some times less). Occasionally l feel a little frustrated at the relatively small distances we cover, but when I look back on it, I wouldn’t do it any other way.

One of the reasons we don’t do more distance is that it gives us a great deal of flexibility on the routes we take, and allows us to avoid major highways and take back routes instead. Sometimes these back routes misfire, and we end up doing a very hard 50 km, slogging up dirt tracks, while other times we finish early (like today) and get to sit back with a beer and chill out.

The last three days (our last in Croatia) have been a really good example of why we go slow. Here’s the highs (mainly) and the lows (very few):

Cycling through the 80’s era high rise apartments on the outskirts of Split, interspersed with people working on thriving market gardens, abandoned half finished buildings, and weird empty tourist resorts.

Cycling along rough tracks right along the waterfront, occasionally pushing along beaches themselves (when the tracks ended unexpectedly)

Taking time to enjoy the fantastic views along the coast

Cycling up a steep hill back to the highway, only to discover this blocking our way…..(how do daleks cope?)

Stopping in a restaurant that seats hundreds of people, being the only guests, eating mussels, drinking beer and talking to the staff for hours about local life (no photos unfortunately….but this was the view from nearby)

Watching a fisherman haul in a net full of fish out of the river, while being jeered and cheered on by the local villagers (we suspect the jeering went a little like “you crazy man, you’re not going to catch anything with that”, followed by the fisherman proclaiming loudly how much he told them so when he pulled the net up full of big fish)

Seeing a 70 year old woman cross the road with a wooden paddle and a white cloth wrapped around her head for sun protection, casually hop in a wooden kayak, and paddle upstream to set her fishing pots

Stopping at a roadside stall, with an old lady selling mandarins from her garden – when I explained I couldn’t carry the sacks she was selling she insisted on giving us 20 or so and wouldn’t take any money. She then insisted on running back inside to fetch a bag for us to carry them in, held my hand and wished us a great journey (all in Croation of course).

Turning up early to a motel in Bosnia, full of trepidation because there was no other option, only to discover it had a balcony with this view…..and beer on tap!