After yesterday's wonderful ride I was quite excited about getting on my bike again and heading off towards Serbia. I had a quick look around Vukovar before I left and stopped and talked to a couple of Croats in German about where I had started and where I was going. They warned me that the next 40km were going to be up and down and around curves. So I stocked up on fluids cos it was already hot and began my ride up to Ilok on the Serbian border. The first twenty kilometers were ok although I was cycling against the wind but then the fun began. First climb, second, third, fourth....... The climbs were long and pretty steep and all I could do was praise myself for getting rid of the trailer when I did. After about eight climbs and descents one of which I managed to do 54kph down, which in hindsight with my loaded bike probably wasn't the best idea, I arrived at the Serbian border. I had decided to cross over into Serbia here because the guide book had advised me that continuing through Croatia would mean more of a physical challenge. What it didn't advise me of was the mental challenge I was about to face biking on the road in Serbia.

Obviously, being a border crossing I expected a certain amount of trucks to cross with me. I wasn't expecting the quantity of huge vehicles, terrible roads and crazy drivers that I incurred for the next fifty kilometers. The road had been destroyed by the number of trucks that obviously passed that way on a daily basis so the area I was supposed to bike in was either deep holes or narrow ridges. I didn't know whether to cycle on the road or the narrow strip of gravel that there was to the side that came and went all the time. I would say that Serbian drivers are not very well acquainted with bikers on their roads, either that or they don't care. Some of the trucks I could have reached out and touched as they zoomed past. This is a normal one lane in both directions road we're talking about, so narrow. So when being overtaken by a huge truck which is then at the same time being overtaken by a Mercedes then you cannot help but wonder if you will be joining the other poor souls who have lost their lives along the way as there was a number of headstones along the road.

On top of the stress of the road, it was getting damn hot and I had no Serbian Dinar yet to stop and buy something cold to drink. When I am biking I crave cold, sugary drinks and my warm water does nothing to quench my thirst. It felt like an eternity, the longest 50km of my ride. Finally, I began to enter the city where I would be staying overnight. About 10km out a bike path started, despite the bad state of the path it was a blessing to get off the road and I breathed a sigh of relief. I was also able to exchange some euros for dinars so was able to down a cold coke with glee.

Once into the city, I headed straight to the hostel as I was almost obliterated. I was given a key to a wonderful purple room with air conditioning and a fridge full of cold drinks. I was in heaven. Anyway, I rested for a while and then headed out to check out the city. Everybody was eating ice cream and drinking beer. I can only hope that tomorrow's ride down to Belgrade isn't as stressful but I fear the worst.