Some amazing churches in Mihail offer an atheist opportunity to ask for sea luck on the journey.
The local spirit,Palinka,provides appetites and hangovers in equal measure
Whilst pondering on foreign marketing strategies,hmm.
Trepidation is an accurate word for what my stomach is doing.
Strong offshore winds,12km down the coast, mean a tea-break in hope of easier travel.
The Limanu still tastes saline 3km in,I only know this because I took a wrong turn from the harbor and the closed sea border office.
Mangalia harbor,the sea conditions here were daunting,you wouldn't think so by the picture,so a portage was required.
across the Romanian/Bulgarian border,raising poorly disguised sniggers from the border guards
Finally,the coast,but the rollers were sufficiently large enough to prevent sea passage.
Rough sea the next day too,and this great idea to port along the dune path soon turned bad,34 degrees and I'm having to re-trolley the canoe every 20 ft due to deep sand. 
The view, 20 km later,of lake Durankulak from the main road
A cheap out of season hotel in Ezerets included a free dinner and a glass of Palinka,many thanks to the proprietor,I avoided a green swim for health reasons.
Looking back down the route with very sore feet.
Shabla centre,the canoe trolley straps break here on the crossroads,a policeman rushes over with 'why are you stopping here?',
'had I not done so' I replied,'we would never have met'
Shabla lighthouse,I was growing tired of this 'hiking with a canoe' holiday and hoped for less swell.
Rough water again? Lets walk to Tyulenovo,fourth day walking.
Beautiful Tyulenovo harbor and a spot of scran,finally good conditions for the canoe,so water supplies are maxed out and I fill my belly. 
Stunning coastline and conditions are perfect,water crystal clear,I manage 30 km from Tyulenovo to this isolated stretch of beach for the nights camp,the police stop by for a chat and clear me of any formal entry permit at Balchik,how kind.
Interesting and scenic coast the next day,but nowhere to put ashore in case of emergency,so having to push on for the next 20 km or so,random fishermen call out on the sea,and did so for the duration of this chapter,to see if all's well,a thumbs up seems to be the universal call sign of 'all's good',feeling a water bond now between seafarers. 
The fortress of Kaliakra in the distance,there's a sharp right after the end of this peninsula which means a big difference in water conditions,but not unbearable.
Thracian cliffs golf and spa resort,I'm not exactly invited but heavy rain and winds passing mean I can gatecrash legitimately,5 minutes after learning its a charity trip,the chef brings me an enormous meal on the house,many questions are asked and hands shook,I welcomed the contact.
Kibella beach.
Feeling very lucky to be here.
Noon temperatures are a little excessive but these piers make for a great picnic shelter,I resented slightly the need to stop,a sure sign of the moderately euphoric endorphin based addiction I feel on the water.
Dances with wolves? nah,'paddles with jellyfish'.
The Varna approach,very touristic stretches of pretty beach,mainly occupied by JCB's and harried looking construction crews prepping for the season.
The Varna estuary,the picture doesn't do the size justice,after being evicted by the military from the right bank ( private beach,no signs! ) I cross to the far bank, timing the crossing to avoid tankers and patrol boats,it took about 90 minutes.
Leaving my trainers outside the mosquito net resulted in them being stolen! someone must be desperate.
Just as well this sports store ( other sports stores are available ) provided cheap footwear after a 4km walk into Varna.
A local marina gave me a few hours to restock equipment and food... 
security provided a sharp eye.
A choppy exit from Varna to the headland in the distance,where a good camp was located.
Just after arriving it got choppier.
Tarp courtesy of Decathlon,tidy.
2nd day at Cape Fear,I tried to leave but 16ft swells were a nuisance,not a big issue 2km from the beach, but big waves as a result meant I couldn't reach land without issues,I paddled 5 km then turned back and received land with gratitude.
Frustrated,I spent 5 hours pointing at the medium responsible for my desert island lodging.
The Sea Star bar at Rakitnika,conditions had changed remarkably, the owner came out and refilled my water barrels then gave me some free drinks,what a great guy.
Pushing on.
Approaching the Kamchia River on a very nice day.
Kamchia beach and almost lake-like conditions on the sea.
The Kamchia River,happy days,let's go in. |
| Initially quite chuffed with the depth and width of the Kamchia,this only extends 4km inland then things get interesting. |
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| The estuary restaurants/supermarkets, and the last chance to stock up for quite a distance. |
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| Above the nature reserve the river becomes stronger and log jams more frequent. |
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| The bank offers good camping and an opportunity to consume some 'Bumbu'. |
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| No 'Bumbu's' were harmed during the making of this dinner. |
Then Goren Chiflik.
Grozdyovo and the bridge over the ever diminishing Kamchia.
I managed to paddle 12km further before the next obstacle...
this enormous weir,the current here was quite dangerous but the concrete weir walls were 40 degrees which means portable in my book,disturbed a few adders here which were quite large, so the paddle now doubles as a 'grass whacker' to advertise my presence.
Pity I couldn't get back in! the Kamchia banks were 30 ft high, after the weir, and vertical.
Nothing else for it but to port again,this time to Asparuhovo and the Tsonovo reservoir.
It was a bit of a walk...
14km and all uphill in 36 degrees and blazing sunshine...
hence the 'Lawrence of Arabia' disguise.
The Tsonovo reservoir made for great camping,very peaceful,I ate three meals and fell asleep.
The river above the reservoir grew progressively smaller and shallower,sometimes only 6ft wide,pushing through undergrowth to be showered with spiders didn't help matters,approaching Listets it had become impassable,the canoe was taking too much damage from knocks and scrapes despite my best intentions.
I climb a hill and spy Listets village in the distance,and the end,for me,of the Kamchia.
The enormous climb out of Listets into the foothills of the Balkans,by far the steepest hill I've ever ported,this road led to Rupcha,and believe me, I wasn't far from one either.
A photo looking back towards Sliven during the 18km walk to Krushare and the,hopefully,navigable Tundzha.
The Tundzha appeared completely navigable on first impressions,reasonable flow and adequately wide enough.
Approaching Yambol,the close shelter of these trees was soon lost as I progressed through open farmland with no shelter in baking heat,the occasional weir made things interesting.
The weir at Yambol,entering the town young gypsy kids showered me with stones and half bricks,not the welcome I anticipated.
A portage through a sewage works,I have the strangest 'bucket list' ever.
Elhovo and a pit stop,it was roughly 65km through some of the worst log jams I've ever seen,some were 30 deep, which required a bit of patience and a lot of sweat.
I began to gain an intimate understanding of the term 'unnavigable',I later learned that the government hadn't cleared this river for 30 years, which would explain the amount of trees felled across the route.
There were no fishing sites along the way due to the remote location, so I was grateful to finally find accessible banks offering good camping.
I'd crossed into Turkey without any border formality,this was a concern,I couldn't leave the canoe to inquire from any officials, and didn't see anyone in uniform nearby to flag down to declare myself.
I crossed to the right bank, to avoid any issue with the Turkish authorities, as this was the Greek side as shown on google maps,inflatable boats were abandoned all along the bank,with children's life-jackets and all manner of paraphernalia,and what appears to be a body,there were no signs or any other indications on the river of what was to come.
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I'm hailed from the Turkish bank by the Military,they point rifles so I feel obliged to stop for a chat,I'm detained and kneel in the dirt with rifles pointing at me,the Maritsa is,it seems,a route for refugees from Afghanistan,Syria,Iraq and Iran,which would explain the inflatables,an officer arrives an explains 'the river is full of children'.
I'm not charged but will still be deported for entering a military zone without authority,I smuggle tobacco into the cell and smoke with two Syrians.
Not fed for the first 24 hours I'm unimpressed with the hospitality offered.
After two days I'm transferred to an immigration center where I'm not deported to the UK,as the police informed me, but next door to Greece,the police are still keeping the canoe despite protestations,they also rifle through my equipment and various items go missing,welcome to Turkey.
The translation basically reads 'his canoe and equipment were returned at the border'yeah,right.
Beds were too soft so I slept on the floor.
I get a coach to Alexandroupoli,and re-equip.
Sea conditions were exactly ideal for canoeing and remained so for the next six days.
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| Using a hunting knife I cut open the massive blisters and rested up, bathing my feet in the Aegean, the remaining 5000km couldn't be done on foot so I decided to catch a coach to Thessaloniki. |
48 hours later I'm home on the Itchen river to much cooler temperatures.
So I discovered quite a lot on this trip and am not discouraged,in 2020 or 2021 I intend to break the world record for distance/solo in a canoe on behalf of the charity Naomi House based in Winchester,this will involve the same route but using the Turkish coast instead of an overland crossing.
Nullo Impedimentum.
