Day 15: The Sultans Trail from Belgrade to Sofia

#throwback September 19, 2025

Breakfast at 10 degrees

After an incredibly wonderful night’s sleep in my tent—I was already asleep before 9:00 PM—I head out at 6:15 AM. It’s going to be another hot day, and this way I can cover quite a distance before the blazing sun starts burning me alive.

At 9:00 AM, I arrive in Bela Palanka, where I eat my breakfast at a picnic table; I hadn’t been hungry before then. I don’t last long, because it’s still freezing cold, not even 10°C, even though the mercury will later rise to 32°C.

At first, the town startles me a bit; it looks dilapidated and bleak, but the further I walk, the nicer it gets, and I actually really like the atmosphere. The market is friendly and people are chatting animatedly with each other on the street.

To warm up a bit, I drink coffee in one of the many ‘kafeterije,’ and even that early in the morning, it’s already bustling and cozy. There is a lot of smoke, though, because you can still smoke indoors here.

32-degree heat, 37 kilometers of asphalt, and unexpected encouragement

Today I want to try to reach Pirot; it’s still quite far, but I’ve seen that I have to cover a lot of asphalt, which goes fast. The sun is burning intensely and there’s hardly any shade, but it seems like I’m starting to get used to it. Drink plenty of water and just keep going.

The route is beautiful and, what’s different from usual, when I walk through a hamlet, people shout “bravo” to me as many as three times, even though I’ve become used to no one ever greeting me or saying anything.

I made it! With 37.6 km on the clock, I go looking for Pension Sanja in Pirot. It’s tucked away somewhere and hard to find, and I’m so glad when I finally arrive at my destination with the help of some kind neighbors.

Sanja: The landlady you fear

But then… Sanja is the kind of landlady you fear. She only speaks Serbian and treats me like I’m mentally disturbed. I have to show my ID card. I give her my passport, but she says that doesn’t count. She calls someone and eventually agrees.

“Your bike isn’t allowed upstairs,” she snaps. She doesn’t care that it’s a hiking trailer. Okay, I’ll leave Wheelie downstairs at the bottom of the stairs and take out the things I need for the night. I don’t want to pick a fight with Sanja. Google Translate then translates her question: “One-night stand?”

“Yes,” I say, “One-night stand, please!”