Finally leaving Atila's late afternoon we knew we had to put pedal to the medal and get a move on towards Serbia. We rounded one of the first corners out of town when I stupidily (maybe a little woozy from the whiskey still) rode close to Curtis, hit his back bags, lost balance and ate it on the tarmac with a very tough thud. The bike was fine but my knee really coped the brunt of the fall and I knew straight away my already tender knee was stuffed! So I cried like a baby on the side of the road before we decided riding at least 40km to a bigger town was our best option.
We reached Baja before it was completely dark and dodged the mosquitoes to collapse and sleep it all off. Unfortunately I woke to what looked like a mandarin had been popped up under my knee cap and we quickly made the desision to stay for the next two days, rest up and catch a train to Belgrade.