Day 6: The Sultans Trail from Belgrade to Sofia

#reflection September 10, 2025

The body is a wonder

It’s amazing how quickly my body recovers. I thought I wouldn’t be able to move at all, as I could barely get up when I tried to go to the bathroom last night – my whole body felt so stiff and painful. However, in the morning, no pain at all. While climbing again, I do notice that I have significant muscle soreness in my calves, but that’s normal when you tackle mountains again after seven months in the lowlands and walk nearly 30 km in sweltering heat.

Fortunately, it’s cloudy and there’s a breeze. That helps a lot, although it’s going to be 32°C again, the difference being that I leave early today. I conquer the most unpleasant part, a ridiculously steep climb, before the heat reaches its peak. To prepare myself mentally for the ascent, I enjoy a sandwich by the banks of the Danube. It is incredibly tough, but it goes with less puffing and panting than yesterday. The muscle soreness is killer, but… no pain, no gain!

Football connects

When I reach the top, I walk by a fruit stand. What a pleasant surprise! I buy delicious grapes, and the vendor asks if I am from Holland. He lets out a cry of joy when I confirm.

“From Groningen?“

“No.“

“From Amsterdam then?“

“No, from Alkmaar.” I say, thinking at the same time that he has probably never heard of that place.

“Ohh, Alkmaar… Alkmaar yesss, AZ!!!” He lists several players from AZ.

“Yes, that’s my team!” I lie, as I’m not at all interested in football and don’t know any of the players.

“Fantastic, fantastic.” He enthusiastically exclaims and puts an extra bunch of grapes in the bag and shakes my hand.

Football connects, that’s something I’ve learned during my travels.

As I snack on my grapes, I walk on. The route isn’t extraordinary, but it beautifully reflects what life is like here. There’s no tourism, just a presentation of everyday life. I walk for miles through orchards filled with apples, pears, and nectarines, witnessing how the people live here, often in houses that are only half-built or quite dilapidated. Hikers speed by in their vehicles, and in the villages, you can find small shops that you might easily overlook. The residents know where to find them; advertising only costs money.

After another 30 km on the clock, I arrive at my nice room, which I booked for two nights in Smederevo (€20 per night). I now allow my body some rest, and it’s going to rain tomorrow, so that works out well.