Day 47: From Sea to Sea

23 Sep 2016

Day 47: From Sea to Sea

Maliuc to The Black Sea (50km)

A couple of months ago, the thought of kayaking 40km would’ve sent me into an uncontrollable panic that would’ve required medical attention. Today, the final stretch to the Black Sea is so appetizing that I almost forwent breakfast so that I could reach quicker. I say almost forewent, realistically there was no way I was intentionally missing breakfast. I say intentionally missing, I was, for a short period, locked in my room, unable to escape. Not only was there a possibility that I would miss breakfast, but as time went on, I had to accept the fact that I might be stuck in this Romanian hotel room for the rest of my days. Fortunately, after barely 30 minutes of trying, I managed to escape and my impending doom was delayed for the time being. Breakfast was large, too large in fact, it came with both tea and coffee (neither of which I drink), several pieces of bread, a selection of meats and cheeses, an omelette and a salad. It got me thinking back to the breakfasts that I enjoyed in the first few days of the trip, in Northern Scotland. Whilst this breakfast definitely matched the Scottish ones for size, the contents of the continental breakfasts on mainland Europe have never ceased to disappoint me, failing miserably to match the elegance, charm, greasiness and downright danger of the Great British fry up.

It was a gorgeous morning on the river, my speed only slowed by the hundreds of pictures (mostly of myself) that I was taking. The first distance marker I passed was number 22, a very encouraging sight. Although the markers are now in nautical miles, which are slightly longer than a normal mile and the equivalent of about 1.8km. If anyone knows why nautical miles are different to normal miles, please let me know, because for the life of me, I don’t get it. The early start also meant that the river was slightly quieter than it had been yesterday, although as the hours increased towards midday, so did the river traffic. I stopped for lunch almost exactly at the 10 mile marker and enjoyed one of my favourite lunches so far, mostly due to the situation rather than the exotic Romanian cuisine.

The section after lunch was quite choppy, mostly due to increasing winds but also due to an increase in boats. Ridiculously, I began to get a blister on my left hand. Hand blisters were one of my biggest concerns at the start of the kayaking section, my baby soft hands would have to adapt immediately to the rigours of several hours of kayaking every day. Any sort of blister would be extremely uncomfortable and unlikely to heal quickly without a period of rest. Thankfully, my hands held up remarkably well and I continued unimpeded. This is why getting a blister after 54 days of kayaking seemed particularly ludicrous.

Just as the winds began to die down, I was once again stopped by the river police. As has become customary, they were very pleasant, simply checked my passport and my newly acquired papers and then wished me well. Once the winds had died down and my finger realised that getting a blister at this late stage was inexcusably weird, I returned to making strong progress down the river.

I was now paddling through the small single digit distance markers, hoping at any moment to get my first glimpse of the sea. I was slightly tempted to taste the water to check if it had become salty yet, but I decided against it. I figured that either outcome would be unpleasant. Either it would still be dirty river water or it would be salt water, or perhaps even a horrible combination of both. I passed the 1 mile marker in great spirits, buoyed that I was now only a few minutes from the sea. However, what I hadn’t banked on was that the markers were counting down to Sulina, the small seaside town and in reality the sea was still several miles passed that.

I have been dreaming of reaching the 0 marker sign for two months, however, the sheer unimpressiveness of it and the fact that I knew I still had about an hour to go meant that the experience was less memorable than I had hoped it would be. I paddled through the uninspiring town of Sulina and continued on the everlasting river towards the Black Sea. Once through the town, the river is artificially routed an immeasurable distance out into the open sea. It was extremely frustrating, either side of the manmade stone barriers was the Black Sea, but I was being forced to paddle several miles extra to get there. I mentioned that the distance was immeasurable, it obviously wasn’t, but for me it will remain so indefinitely, because before I reached the end, I spotted a narrow gap in the wall and shot through out into the open water.

107 days ago, I cautiously peddled from the small outpost at John O’Groats, Scotland’s most northerly point, I have travelled through every type of weather imaginable, from the baron Scottish Highlands to the sun kissed waters of the Danube Delta. I have had disappointments, I’ve had struggles but most importantly I’ve met an abundance of wonderful people and gained a lifetime of memories to look back on. Not everything went to plan, but that’s why we do adventures like this, if things went to plan all the time then life would be boring, there are a lot of ways to describe this trip, but it was certainly never boring.