This was another red hot day, packed full of interest and ending, in Hungary, at our most basic and cheapest campsite yet – three pounds the night. The strange thing is that it is right next door to a brand new 4 star hotel, even though this is the middle of nowhere.

This morning we completed our none-too-thorough tour of the many Roman sites of Petronell Carnatum by whizzing past the amphitheatre on our bikes. It was being prepared for a day’s gladitorial combat (widely advertised) and there were marquees and stands of seats going in. But breakfast was calling, and was duly found in an elegant spa town just down the road. It was like Sunday morning in Betty’s – and the best ham and eggs of the trip. There was also a grand spa hotel – with all the trimmings. I made the usual, ritual offer to Helen to book us a place (safe in the knowledge that she doesn’t do posh pampering) – and, to my astonshment, she said yes. Next time we come to Vienna, without bikes…..

From there it was a short hop to Hainburg. Here we saw the fast hydrofoil ferry from Vienna to Bratislava roaring by. (It had been fully booked when we were in Vienna, else we might have had a day out. But by the looks of it, it would have been a very noisy, and probably bumpy, journey).

Approaching the Slovakian border we had our first glimpse of Eastern block housing complexes across the Danube.

And then we reached the border itself. It was quite a let down really for people of our generation. This was the fabled iron curtain – except there were just same falling down huts and no one around.

Bratislava was fun though, despite the second puncture of the trip. We arrived on the opposite bank to the city and headed straight for the beach bar and a drink! Here there were great views of Bratislava across the river, and of various bikini-clad girls showering/posing in between sunbathing. But here is a photo of Helen at the beach bar, and a view across the river.

Once across the bridge, Bratislava was a lovely place to spend a lunch time. We wandered round the central squares but it was too hot for serious sightseeing. A cool bar for lunch was needed.

Leaving Bratislava behind we headed on down the Danube flood banks. It was Sunday afternoon and the cyclists and rollerbladers were out in force. But this was a different generation from the mostly elderly naturists that we encountered yesterday in Vienna. We travelled about 10 miles or more in the middle of a throng of beautiful young people. Bare torsos were the order of the day for the young men, and bikini tops for the girls. I love Slovakia!

But all good things must come to an end, and soon we were spilled out onto a main road heading again for the border. Cue another, even more decrepit, ex border control point, and we were in Hungary – our third country of the day and our sixth of the trip.

Strangely, once back on minor country roads this seemed more like England than anything so far. The roads were black, decaying tarmac with potholes, just like at home and quite a contrast with the superb surfaces so far encountered on this trip. After a few miles we turned off to find a small campsite and to take a break. Who knows what, if anything, we’ll find to eat in this small village on a Sunday night.

Helen’s track of the day: Beyonce, Crazy In Love, because this was playing when we reached the beach cafe in Bratislava.