The next morning the sun had disappeared behind overcast skies, I had a big headwind to deal with and I was getting into some hilly terrain too. I was cursing that damned Gerry and his lies as I struggled uphill into this wind. Then I saw a stray dog padding about in the road not really paying enough attention to the cars and, wanting to take a break from the difficult cycling, I stopped to encourage him away from the road. He was a timid dog but he soon came running over to me when I threw some old biscuits on the ground. I had been carrying these biscuits for several days and hadn't eaten many because they didn't taste very good. They tasted like dog biscuits. For all I know, they were dog biscuits, I couldn't read the packet, could I? Well, Oscar certainly seemed to like them. Oh yeah, I called the dog Oscar. I had him eating out of the palm of my hand before long and I thought he might follow me and become my pet but when I left he was too busy sniffing around trying to find the last crumbs. I hoped he would stay away from the road. The number of dead dogs I saw that day was tragic; ten or twelve at least. The problem is that the Romanian drivers were fast and uncaring. I knew this because I had to cycle with them. When there was nothing coming the other way they were okay, giving me enough space. But if a car happened to be approaching they absolutely could not consider slowing down and would merely drive directly towards the back of me at full speed and beep their horn in a 'get out of the way or I'll kill you' kind of way. Needless to say this made me quite annoyed and frustrated but at least I had the necessary cognitive functions required to interpret this beeping horn for the warning it was and dive onto the grass verge, something that obviously could not be said for the poor dogs. Therefore I would like to write an open letter to all such impatient Romanian drivers:

Dear Impatient Romanian Drivers,

We hate you.

Yours sincerely,

Chris and Oscar

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I couldn't say that I hated all Romanians though. For example, while I was taking my customary break in a bus stop (not bad, it blocked the wind at least, seat was a bit low, grafitti of poor quality, I give it 5/10) a man cycled past and looked at me. Then he doubled back and came to say hello. He was an older man, fifties maybe, with greying temples but big honest blue eyes and a warm smile. He spoke just a few words of English and his mouth dropped wide with amazement that I had come from England by bicycle. 'I better not tell him where I'm going.' I thought. He was nice and we chatted for a little while. He pointed at his bike and then at mine and said "Fifty-fifty" which I took to mean "do you want to swap bikes?!" I suggested he lift up my bike to see how heavy it was which he did, then he suggested I lift up his. He had two five-litre jugs of water in the basket at the front, so his was pretty heavy too! "Fifty-fifty" he repeated, making a swapping motion with his hands. I declined the offer but, wanting to keep the conversation going I got out my map to try and ask if the next town I was coming to, Babadag, was big enough to have an internet connection. "Babadag big?" I asked. He pointed at the map, at Tulcea and at Babadag and said "Tulcea, Babadag, Fifty-fifty" which I took to mean that these two towns were the same size. "Great, thank you."

It had been a magnificent conversation, although in truth the only thing I really took from it for certain was that this man did not entirely understand the meaning of the term 'fifty-fifty.'

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I came to a long flat section but the landscape was very exposed and consequently the headwind was making life very difficult. I was getting very frustrated with the slow progress but then I found a solution galloping up in my rear view mirror. A horse and cart came up and passed me and I immediately fell in behind it, using it to draft behind. It was a brilliant solution, blocking out the wind and making life a little easier. I imagined that the man and woman sitting on the cart might look around and laugh and have a good joke with me but they didn't see me for a good while. The cart had a plank of wood and some metal poles sticking out the back and when the cart went over a bump these jostled around which made the man look around and see me. He didn't laugh or have a good joke with me at all, he actually looked annoyed. I think maybe he thought that I was trying to steal his metal poles, or that I was holding onto them to be dragged along (couldn't do that could I, then I wouldn't have cycled the whole way! Read the rules challenges man!) He sped the horse up to try and lose me but I pedalled a bit faster and stuck with it, the wind really was too much to bear. Annoyed that this had not worked, next he tried slowing right down, almost to a stop. This did indeed stop me from following him as I went around and took the lead, but the wind was so severe that my speed was immediately cut in half. Naturally the horse and cart had to speed up again and as they overtook me I again fell in behind. I was quite determined to follow this cart for as long as I could, but the horse had other ideas. From between the two figures seated in front of me rose a blonde tail and before I knew what was happening a stream of wet manure was appearing from under the carriage. I swerved and slowed and managed to avoid it but, sensing his advantage, the man once again jimmied the horse into action and I fell back defeated.

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