This post is about a 27km walk from Velesnica to Kladovo. I walk the wrong way, one time by accident, one time on purpose.
The first fisherman showed up at 4:30. He walked past my tent, went down to the river, looked at it for a while, and then disappeared.
Alexander showed up at about nine. He was the owner of the fishing hut. When I apologized for intruding on his property he waved me off and explained in German: “If I had been here yesterday you could’ve slept in the house.”
We chatted for a little while. He was 79, and he had spent forty years in Germany and Austria. He insisted that I try his homemade rakia. And then, when I had tried it and said that I liked it, he insisted that I take the whole bottle.
the wrong way
Maybe it was because of the rakia that I ended up walking in the wrong direction for a little while. There had been a sign for the EuroVelo 6 that seemed to point down a gravel road. I liked gravel roads, but when at some point it was submerged by a little stream of water I started growing suspicious.
It was only after I had taken off my shoes and socks and crossed the water with the Caboose that I figured that it was probably better to go back to the main road. I needed to get to the border on time.
I arrived in Kladovo in the late afternoon. There were a bunch of hotels and guest houses, And there was a beach with people getting tanned and playing ball. I didn’t stay, though. Instead I walked in the wrong direction. And this time, it was on purpose.
It took me an hour to get to the Bridge of Trajan. There wasn’t much left of it, but what was there was spectacular. It was a singular stone pillar, tall and mighty. Almost two thousand years had gnawed at it without making it collapse. And so it had been standing here, on the shores of the Danube, the remaining bit of the first permanent bridge to ever span the Danube.
walk from Velesnica to Kladovo: