Thursday 23 October 2008

Iran, I never believe in first impressions but here are some.

Day 38 Continued - Tabriz, Iran

So here I was crossing into the unknown. When in London I had told people I was traveling to Iran I had received a few blank looks, some worried sentiments and some serious concerns. So many people seem to have so much to say about this country but so few have visited it, so I was excited to find out what the real picture is.

I have to say first off the border wasn't too scary... in fact the border guards at Stanstead are more scary looking. There was quite a lot of paperwork and the enjoyed the various get ups of the staff manning the operation. The main guy I was dealing with wore a snappy shiny black suit and white shirt, he looked pretty fly. The man in charge wore a jumper that I think might have been from C&As back catalogue. Then there was the man who did the computer inputting, I can't really remember what he looked like because my distinct memory of him was the comedy backhand he received (it was straight out of the movies) from a man who I assume wanted to get through the border quickly with no trouble. I didn't need to grease wheels thankfully and I was through in a record time of an hour. I was in!

As I drove down and out of the border area, I got my first glimpse of the chaos I was letting myself in for. Exiting the gates, I was confronted by a wall of pirouetting cars each snaking through the tangle of vehicles entering and exiting. Each seemed to have a magical inch thick force field that prevented any contact. Obviously the illusion of the force field was soon shattered but I will come to that later.

I stopped for fuel, Iran's petrol stations are not as numerous as Europe and I planned to make a habit of filling up whenever I could particularly as the bike only has a range of 100 miles. The fuel attendant asked for 20,000 Rials. Now I knew the fuel was cheap but that was ridiculous. About one pound to fill the tank!

Tank full and everything in order I was ready to hit the highway. I headed for Tabriz 300km, I would take about 3 1/2 hours. Thankfully the highways seemed to be pretty empty and it felt good to be making progress. As I moved along about 100km per hour, every now and then an Iranian car packed full with 5 passengers would get as close to my back tyre as possible and then creep up alongside me so I could almost change gear for the driver and everyone inside would stare, wave and, or smile. At first I almost fell off the road, not used to quite such a cozy relationship with my highway sharing, car driving friends. Within 10 minutes this was to be topped by my not so friendly, highway sharing lorry drivers. On a straight section of road, about 300 meters in front of me a lorry was coming towards me in the opposite lane as is to be expected, however slightly more disconcerting was the lorry behind that despite my presence in the middle of my side of the road decided to pull out and over take his fellow lorry driver. This created a problem for me either I would become mince meat or I needed an exit strategy. The later seemed the best bet, thankfully those thoughtful Iranian asphalt layers had left a thin ribbon of tarmac just under a meter wide on the edge of the road, this is usually populated by road kill, of which sadly I have seen much and we are not talking bunny rabbits here, think more domestic animals large and small, anyway at that moment not wanting to join them and become I permanent inhabitant of the highway fringe cemetery, I yanked the bike into the safe zone as two large squealing, black smoke belching trucks roared past. OK so that's how its done in Iran. Size is king and I am at the bottom of the food chain!

Having just about got to grips with the highway after 300 km, the road started to become busy again I was entering Tabriz. Now the chaos of leaving the border was one thing but this was a completely different matter. I can't really explain how the traffic management works here, and indeed it is arguable weather it does. As I entered the city I saw my first victim of a failed 1 inch force field. He had managed to beach his car two wheels in the air and two wheels disappearing beneath street level.

I can explain this, in Iran the drains are not like drains else where, from childhood you might have some memories of donning wellington boots and jumping in the puddles and stepping in and out of the stream in the gutter of your street.

Well in Iran if you allowed your child to do that, they would need a white water raft with trained expert at the helm. The gutters are about 60cm wide and 50cm deep, more of a canal than a gutter. Anyway so this unfortunate chap must have made the mistake of misjudging his positioning in the safe zone and slipped off the edge. As is the way in Iran a crowd seemed to have gathered around and some sort of rescue effort was in full swing.

I headed on, they didn't need another chef. Now driving cities usually doesn't phase me and indeed some people say if you can drive in London or perhaps more particularly Hackney you can drive anywhere. Now that is an out right lie. To drive in Tabriz, not knowing where you are going is perhaps the most challenging and life threatening activity I have ever taken part in. Problem one is every other driver on the road, you have absolutely no way to predict what they will do, problem two most of the signs are in Farsi, with an occasional one in Latin script. So you have to learn a technique of keeping one eye on everyone else on the road and one eye trying to find the way. After asking several confused looking locals I made it to the center and a guesthouse, it was miracle.

The guesthouse was shelter, privacy and refuge from the street. It looked like the sheets complete with cigarette burns and black hairs may not have been washed in recent years and I can be sure that the toilet hadn't by aroma alone but at four pounds a night I couldn't complain.

Having recovered from the road and changed out of my riding gear I decided to wander the streets. It wasn't long before someone said hello, asked me where I was from, where I was going, how long I had been in Iran etc, etc. I think perhaps these are set questions taught at school and I have found this across Turkey and now in Iran. At first it is fun given so much attention but after the sixth child, you just want to clip them round the ear and tell them to bugger off!

Then out of the blue I heard an American ascent. I had not been expecting that. A short man with balding grey hair pushing a bike, speaking very clear American English said 'Hello'. I was quite surprised and stopped. We struck up a conversation. The man's name was Ray, he an Iranian who had lived in Chicago working for IBM for thirty odd years he had been quite successful before for one reason or another he had been forced to return to Iran and had been left with nothing. In Iran he had been party to some anti establishment activity and had been given a little bit of a battering in return. He had also visited Iraq and ended up in a Kurdish jail. I had to respect him for his balls, he seemed harmless and he had certainly had an interesting life. We chatted for a while, he introduced me to a friend of his who was a very good animator. Later that evening I met two very nice Kiwi travellers. Tristin was living in London but now travelling back to New Zealand for a wedding and his friend Rachel was also returning to her native New Zealand for the first time in ten years.

I met the Kiwi's whilst having pizza, so Iranian! However, a rather remarkable thing happened. A young Iranian girl came up to our table and said hello and welcome to Iran. Now considering under Muslim law it is illegal for a man to touch a women he is not either related to or married to and it is considered rude to look a women in the eyes if you are not acquainted with them, this seemed pretty liberal of the girl. She was also pretty casually dressed. Rather than wearing the full black with the shawl wrapped around the face, she wore tight trouser, a shortish skirt and a jumper and a head scarf pulled back so you could see her fringe and it was high at the back so you could see her pony tail. She asked about our eating customs of which we told her about fish and chips in newspaper, which she seemed to like. She thanked us for our time and again welcomed us to Iran and left, for us it felt like we had just witnessed girl power Iranian style.

Day 39 - Tabriz, Iran

The next day I met Ray in the morning, we went and I changed money at the bank which was almost as bureaucratic as getting through the border, following this I went to check on the Visa situation, apparently I was fine as I had entered whilst the visa was valid. I now had 30 days to cross the country.

Next we went to the Bazaar, which was everything you might expect from a middle east market. Spices, sweets, skinned sheep's heads, perfumes and carpets. The carpets I found very interesting. Since I had entered Iran there were a couple of things I was still trying to get my head round. Firstly the lack of alcohol, which I now understand to be elevated by some dodgy moonshine that is home brewed by some of the more liberal population. Now the second item was pornography. Surely this has existed since the dawn of time, weather it be a cave mans scratchings into his rock walls or the stuff that had made Hugh Hefner the wealthy man he is today. My answer laid in the carpet sellers of the Bazaar. As we went in and out of the shops it started to register that a great deal of the carpets had western women on showing OH NO there hair! Not only this but occasionally they would just be in a tightly clinging nightie. Now I am not sure if this filth is legal but I certainly will be complaining to the Mullahs about the portrayal of western women in there country.

After the excitement of the Bazaar we headed for the blue mosque. The mosque had collapsed in the 1700s and only recently been re-erected. Only a few of the blue tiles remained but it was pretty cool. Round the back though even better, was a burial ground from 3000 BC. A walkway passed over the top and you could see down into the graves, skeletons in tact.

Later that day we had another revelation, this time bought to us (The Kiwi's and myself) by a local engineer who had wanted to marry Rachel I suspect, despite the fact he had a wife and a young daughter. He basically explained that area we were in wasn't Iran at all but Azerbaijan. Basically, following some more market research it turns out that the population of northern Iran are Turks not Arabs and speak Turk. Many dream of being reunited with Azerbaijan or certainly becoming autonomous. Another political minefield, right next to Kurdistan.

Day 40 - Tabriz, Iran

I headed for Kandovan on a day trip, it was very nice, pretty similar to Goreme but with out the tourists and a little more rustic and smelling on donkey turd.

On the way back i got hopelessly lost coming back into Tabriz. Finally i found the park i wished to visit. A policeman asked me for a bribe to look after the bike which I promptly refused to give and found a spot round the corner and crossed my fingers it would be alright. It was. In fact, touch wood, I think Iran is an incredibly safe country, bar the traffic.

Sunday 19 October 2008

There's More..... Welcome Iran!

Day 36 - Van, Turkey.

So I leave picturesque Mardin behind and start the long haul north to the border. The landscape changes from the sunbaked plain bordering Syria to the high volcanic dormant or not mountains that border Lake Van. The temperature gets colder and soon enough I see snow of the mountain peaks. This is real Kurdistan, not that the turkish would call it that but some of the locals do. I visit a ruined castle, pass gorges and waterfalls the vegetation starts to green up compared to the south but showing a the autumn colours coming through. Lake Van is huge more like a sea really. Its so tricky to circumnavigate the trains here get loaded on to boats to cross to the other side. I don't have that luxury and want to be in the city of Van a good couple of hours before dark so I push on. I notice the intensity of army bases increasing the majority just have light armoured vehicles and many seem to be training grounds. Eventually i arrive at Van about 4pm find a hotel that rather drab communist look and head out for something to eat. Finding a kebab house where I sit in front of the coals that the chef cooks the meat on. This is not for tourists this could be compared to a bar in the UK. It was good but after I was still looking for something. I wanted a night out, a beer, some music, some people dancing, some fun (western style). I asked at the hotel and they said yes there are two bars but both are closed... it was only 8pm!! They could serve alcohol, they said at there american bar. Sounded great till I saw it, a small darkened area at the back of the TV room with some grim couches - empty. I had a beer on my own, feeling a little down and out, frustrated, wondering how anyone had a good time in this town.

Day 37 - Turkish side of border with Iran.

I woke and went to the ruin of the Castle at Van. Now I have to say Turkey seems to have a lot of ruins and they are ruins. Most of them look like a open sided quarry where someone has stacked some of the stones up to give the impression of a wall and occasional perhaps post fitted an arch to make the place more authentic. Now I don't mean to sound like an ungrateful ignorant fool and i probably do, but I feel someone needs to start to look after some of these sites. Make some path ways, put some signage up perhaps even a dreaded souvenir shop. It seems a lot of these places are just falling apart and anyone be it man or goat can clamber over the top, turning those mounds of boulders that are ancient walls into beds of ancient boulders. Yeah so I was still in a bit of a bad mood, but I soon cheered up when I left Van and hit my first army checkpoint. They pulled me over, asked to see my passport and asked me where I was going, what my job was?? (I was hardly likely to say spy if i was!)then after some advice about not riding at night they let me carry on. The weather got colder but this wasn't a problem as I had my thermals on. The roads got higher and the landscape more inhospitable. I was now travelling a stretch of road very close to the Iran border passing small subsistence villages. I came to another road block, this had a queue of traffic but the officers beckoned me to the front. Now this was a block, they had a base one side with a tank pointing its barrel at the road and on the other fortifications. The officer asked to see the passport where I was going etc etc. He asked me about photography, it seems I had been spotted taking pictures of the landscape. After showing him my holiday snaps, he didn't seem to concerned. Then he beckoned over another junior office who was carrying a tea pot, he looked confused, the senior officer said something to him and he pulled an awkward face of concentration and said something like.. 'three pazyat in these hills, so watch your step.' Now the second part of the sentence was so well delivered I can only believe it was mimicked from a movie. Not sure what Pazyat were and not really sure I wanted to find out, I pressed on quick. There were many army bases on the way and these were full of tanks and artillery. They looked like they were ready for world war three. I found a campsite not far from one and met a very nice Spanish couple who were over landing in there Toyota. As it got dark there was a glorious sunset with a rainbow. A perfect sign off for Turkey, I was ready for Iran.

Day 38 - Tabriz, Iran.

The Turkish border control, police, and customs officers signed me out and directed me to a large ominous metal gate with a few other pedestrians lurking next to it. I started to screech and scrap as it slowly slid open. Then a man dressed in a karki uniform came over and said 'Welcome to Iran!'

Thursday 16 October 2008

To brıng you up to date...

Day 28 - Somewhere between Istanbul and Ankara, Turkey.

Got a new chaın for the bıke. An upgrade! D.I.D. should see me through to Indıa.
Unfortunately I dıdnt get ıt fıtted, I decided to save that for later. Decided to Wilderness camp found an alright spot by a wood a little damp, had a small camp fire.

Day 29 - Somewhere between Ankara and Konya, Turkey.

Woke up early in my tent. Still pitch black outside. Read for a little, couldn't sleep. Eventually got up and made a tea. As I was rumaging around finding my cup and a tea bag, heard a what must have been a wild dog howling like a wolf probably about 20 meters off. I'll be honest, i didn't like it. I grabbed my stick and shouted in the direction of the howl. Had my tea and decided to pack up. Heard the howl some way off. As i was almost finished it came again this time only 5 meters or so away. I completely just shivers down my spine, it was pretty scary. i grabbed the stick shouted and roared, turned the engine on the bike revered it up loadly. Stuffed everything on the bike and road off. Later I laughed at myself and rode down the road making howling noises at the passing traffic. That night i stayed in a motel to be on the safe side.

Day 30 - Konya, Turkey.

Got to Konya found a hotel and did the sites. I was advised to put the bike in secure parking which was a blessing really as it gave me space to fit the new chain.
The old one was really slack and had stretched so that it wanted to jump off the sprockets. So i got the tool kit out and started work. One of the parking attendents had a jack which helped and soon I had the back wheel off. This is when I realised, that it wasn't going to be that simple and I had to take the rear suspension and swing arm off, so off it came. Eventually after a couple hours of work the chain was on and the bike back to working condition. Tried to find a celebration beer but no luck!

Day 31 - Groeme, Turkey.

Next day lots of Turkisk Tea with the guys at the parking then off. Went to an undergorund city, those Christians must have been pretty scared of the invading armies to live down there! Then on to Groeme. What a crazy landscape that lave has. Maybe what you would expect on Mars. Stayed in a really nice dorm in Kose Pension. Was an English biker there too, on his way to Syria. Lots of bike talk, boring the other travellers.

Day 31 - Groeme, Turkey.

Went for a big walk, beautiful area, and nice town. Found a bar for evening drinks.

Day 32 - Groeme, Turkey.

Tony and I took the bikes out check out some other area's, my bike faired well in the sand as opposed to the big new heavy enduro bike Tony had. There is something to be said for a small one. Went to the same bar as the previous night, becoming accutely aware that we were all travellers hanging out together and not anything to do with our surrounding enviroment. I guess the place was set up perfectly for back packers.

Day 33 - Somewhere between Groeme and Nemrut, Turkey.

Ok so I should have left earlier and I could have made it to Nemrut. But I didn't.
Instead after riding all day and passing several hotels in the early evening I pressed on and it did what it always does and that is get dark. Now I try never to ride at night as you can't always see what is coming. Particularly if it doesn't have lights, like a cow. So just to compound matters just before it started to get dark I turned up a mountain road, this mountain road deteriated into a track. Bear in mind alos that in the back of my mind I am thinking PKK as I am now in the kurdish area. Not good. So I press on, no signs for Nemrut where I know there is a good Pension. I push on heading up the track as it gradually gets worse and worse. I stop, to consider if it is really possible that people use this route. I carry on passing diggers etc understanding that they are doing some road improvements my god it needs it. On I go and it gets worse. Until eventually squinting into the distance I can see the road disappears into a solid rock face. Its a new road in mid construction unfinished. i have just ridden 15 minutes up it in the dark thinking i was going the right way. I have to turn back! So back I go, eventually finding a turning on the right, with the first vechile I had seen in a while unsurprisingly. I ask for Nemrut he points up the correct road. On I go. The road keeps on going weaving through the mountains I pass a few dwelling with lights and decide the next one I will ask if I can camp by as it is getting silly. On I go and now there are no lights and no vehicles. Great! For 20 minutes I ride in the pitch dark, on a horrendous road in the mountains. All that safety advise seemed to have goon out the window. Eventually I see a light and head to it. It is a school and the teacher who runs it is there. After his intial confusion he says no problem, later one of his friends arrive. He is an Imam, and leads the pray in the nearby village mosque. Using a computer to translate, we discuss Islam and hospitality. At one point I think they try and convert me to Islam. I am repeating various prays - I let them no that I can not believe in one god - this seems to deflect the conversion and they are happy with me as a curious visitor. I end up staying in the Imam's house, a very modest hut in the village. I am treated to full hospitality with a full meal before bed. Once you get out of the tourist places Turkey is genuinely surprising in how friendly and hospitable the people are.


Day 34 - Siverak, Turkey.

Next day I leave after breakfast with the teacher. During which his students which range from 5 years old to 8 years old play around us in the school yard. I head for Nemrut eventually making it for early afternoon. Its pretty interesting but may have been a bit of an effort considering, having said that it bought encouters I might not of otherwise had. I head on now pretty low on petrol. I take small ferry ride across a gorge. I am well out of tourist terrority. On the ferry laiden with various vehicles and some terrified cattle handeled by there owner, the rain comes and the wind. As I rise out of the gorge the other side the wind really hits I am really leaning into it, again I don't learn, it is getting dark and I am on an open plain and I am tucking well into my reserve tank. There are no settlements between me and the next town so I have to press on. Eventually I see the town and a petrol station as I approach, the man fills the bike on arrival with 7.5 liters of fuel. Which is the capacity of the tank when empty. I guess I arrived on the fumes. I go to another garage in town and I am asked into the restuarant. I am seated at a table with some other turkisk men, they are all friends and one of them can speak German and some broken english we piece some conversation together and he offers to help me find a hotel. Dinner is paid for by someone, by now i hate to say but you know that will be the deal. So I follow the chap on his bike to a hotel, there is some dispute with the owner as the bike will have to be left on the street and i get told many bikes go missing. The chap decides this is no good and we go to another place where I can put the bike securely away. The hotel is terrible for the price. The manager an Imam too said I had a special price 30 YTL which was special as it was 5 YTL more than the price on the board in reception. I only noticed this till it was too late. It was a bed. I went off to find an internet cafe and get on with updating the blog.

Day 35 Mardin, Turkey.

Came to Mardin as it was recommended by many people and the old Lonely Planet. So here I am. It is pretty nice. I think it is better for the fact that I decided to blow my budget and took a pretty nice hotel for 25 quid. I havent met any other travellers here, see a couple. I know that many people will be scared of coming here as it is well in PKK territory, which you are constantly reminded by the heavy police and army presence. It looks like a war zone which I suppose it is.

Everything got a little worrying tonight when I checked my Iranian Visa. Now this was tricky to get. I got it in August and after it was in my hand put it to the back on my mind. Now I have just checked it and found out it will run out on the 22/10/08. Thats a problem! A pretty big one. Now I have to race to the border get through and get to a city where I can extend it. Currently my shortest route travels along the Iraq border, not great, that is a bad road to travel as that is where various PKK bombings and police killings have taken place. Or I go North which will take me a few days! I think I will play it safe and go north.

So finally I have updated the blog after all that. Hopefully it will be kept up a little now.

Wednesday 15 October 2008

And there ıs more...

Day 22 - Istanbul, Turkey

Hannah arrıved and, well, I am not goıng to go ın to too much detaıl, thats between me and her. But we had some catchıng up to do.

Day 23 - Istanbul, Turkey

Sıghtseeıng - great cıty, weırd juxtaposıtıon of wealth and poverty. I guess I wıll be seeıng alot more of that. Went to Harem, I thınk the ıdea of a Harem ıs a lot better than the realıty. Went out drınkıng, four nıght spots later, head spınnıng, we wnet home.

Day 24 - Istanbul, Turkey.

Hungover day, seeıng Mosques. Hagıa Sophıa and Blue Mosque. I managed to gıve Hannah, tonsılıtıs. Trıed Rakı the drınk not the massage. ıts a lıttle lıke Perno.

Day 25 - Istanbul, Turkey.

Cıstern and Archıologıcal Museum - proper tourıst mode. Good tombs though. Went for a rıde on the bıke, thunderstorm broke over head avoıded lıghtıng but got pretty wet.

Day 26 - Istanbul, Turkey.

Bospherus Cruıse - easy and chılled, sunny!

Day 27 - Istanbul, Turkey.

Hannahs last day so went and scrubbed up ın the Haman. Strange experıence to be cleaned by another man, but was totally cool wıth, he also clıcks all your bones ınto posıtıon. Was fırst tıme so felt a lıttle uneasy but now I know the score would do ıt agaın.

Hannah had to go the aırport and before I knew ıt she was through the doors agaın and now we are waıtıng tıll December before they re-open ın a dıfferent aırport and we see each other agaın. It all went rather fast. It all goes rather fast.

On the way back to the apartment, I cam across a rather lost lookıng Englısh guy rıdıng a 1954 Sunbeam Motorbıke.
He was lookıng for somewhere to stay and seeıng as the thought of the empty apartment wasn't appealıng, I ınvıted hım to stay.
He sounded lıke he had been through hell on that machıne, sometımes experıenceıng several breakdowns a day and I was ınspıred by hıs determınatıon. He was rdıng ıt from Syrıa where he had bought ıt as a wreck to do up and was shıppıng ıt out of Istanbul back to the UK. Well done Paul, your bloody mad!

To brıng you upto date

Day 12 - Starı Grad, Hvar Croatıa.

Ended up at a bıker festıval, got a lıttle tıpsy don,t remember too much, apparently mıssed an on stage strıpper. Had photo taken holdıng a large python and met some new croatıan frıends. Antonıo, Carla and Lydıa.

Day 13 - Mlaska, Hvar, Croatıa.

Stayed at campsıte of the croatıans I met the prevıous day. It had nudıst sectıon so had a quıck swın oh natural - ıt was pretty cold - lets leave ıt at that. Recovered from prevıous nıght.

Day 14 - Mlaska, Hvar, Croatıa.

Met two really great German couples. Hung out on beach and relaxed. Ate fresh squıd ın ıt ınk wıth Team Croatıan for supper.

Day 15 - Mlaska, Hvar, Croatıa.

Played volley ball ın the sea wıth Team Germany ın the evenıng went squıd fıshıng wıth Team Croatıa, caught a squıd whıch when pulled out of the sea sprayed black ınk over me.

Day 16 - Near Kotor ın Montenegro.

Had to get on towards Istanbul. At Montenegro boarder met Jack polısh bıker and Englısh guy called Alan - he was the maın roadıe for the Madonna tour goıng through the Balklans. Ended up rıdıng wıth Jack for the rest of the day. We found a spot for a bıt of wılderness campıng - a fırst for me.

Day 17 - Burrel, Albanıa.

Jack and I headed off dıfferent dırectıons. I passed Kotor, broke down agaın on a hıll. Fıxed the bıke and made ıt to Albanıa. Got through border wıth only mıner back hand payment. Roads were terrıble then got better then got terrıble agaın. Lots of cars wıth foreıgn plates. ı suspected they were stolen but could be wrong. Albanıa, cam across as beıng pretty poor, alot of people subsıstence lıvıng. Got to Burrel, found a hotel, met an Albanıan who spoke good englısh called Hamıt. He took me for coffee, two of hıs frıends turned up also. Turns out Hamıt and one of hıs frıends had lıved ın England but then both I thınk had been deported, ı dıdnt pry to much. The thırd chap was quıeter, ıt turned out he was ın charge of the secret polıce ın that area. Counter actıng terrorısm and corruptıon. At fırst a lıttle unnervıng but they all turned out to be really frıendly, generous and ınterestıng guys. ı thınk Albanıa has got a bad reputatıon ın Europe and from what I saw of the country thıs ıs totally unjustıfıed. If your lookıng for a slıghtly quırky and edgy holıday oın Europe my vote would be Albanıa!

Day 18 - Thessolonıkı, Greece.

Roads out of Albanıa, horrendous, maınly due to road works. Drove through Macedonıa and reached safety of Greece and Europe agaın. Got to Thessolonıkı late - arrıvıng ın a cıty on a motorbıke ın the dark ıs always a bad ıdea. There ıs really no way to go searchıng about for a good hotel. Got an average place, went for a drınk met some greek guys wıth some czech gırls. Much talk of polıtıcs, dıs-lıke for Amerıcaın Imperıalısm and talk of Anarchıst movement ın Greece. All a bıt heavy.

Day 19 - Somewhere just before the Turkısh Border.

Got a mobıle phone agaın, and carrıed on headıng east. Ended up doıng some wılderness campıng on my own whıch was pretty cool made a good pasta meal on the campıng stove.

Day 20 - Somewhere ın between Turkısk Border and Istanbul.

Got movıng quıte early. Washed the Albanıan mud off the bıke. At Turkısk border met Englısh couple bıkıng around the world. Cathy was blınd and the rıde was ın aıd of vısual ımpaırment, I am probably totally wrong but I always ımagıned Bernard her drıver ıf you lıke narratıng the whole trıp. Got through the border and searched out campsıte on the other sıde. The sıte was horrıbly but the famıly who ran ıt were nıce. Was ınvıted ın to break Ramazan wıth them after dark. Afterwards was asked to prey wıth them to Allah - that was fırst - but not a last.

Day 21 - Same place ın between Turkısk border and Istanbul.

Hannah was due to fly ınto Istanbul the next day so rather than me arrıve a day before her I decıded to stay another nıght at the campsıte. The reason ıt was horrıbly was the toılet block had probably never seen bleach sınce ıts creatıon 20 years early, the smell melted the haırs ın you noıse. The actually ground on whıch my tent was placed, doubled as the toılet for all the varıous pets and anımals they kept. So when I packed my tent away I realısed ıt had actually been sıttıng on somethıng one of the dogs had left, however thıs all was not really a problem because I was agaın ınvıtyed ın to eat wıth the famıly and thıs experıence for me far out weıghed any outdoor hygıene ıssues.

Tuesday 7 October 2008

2300 mıles later...

Erm yeah so quite alot!

The short version is leg one complete- in Istanbul!

Apologies to all the avid readers of the blog, but I think i will be updating more frequently now. Did I say that last time?

So I may as well start from where we left off. I have been keeping a journal so don't worry I can go into lots of detail.

Day 6 - Brennen - Austria/Italy border

Wet, wet, wet and then snow!

I started to wonder if that was it I would be riding through the wet and cold for the rest of the journey, all 7300 miles of it.

However all the water and alpine roads has meant, I am quite practised at counter steering now and feel fairly comfortable meandering up and down mountain roads with 2 meters visibility and a lorry growling at your back wheel.

Brennen is not worth writing home about so I wont.

Day 7 - Mihov Dom, Slovenia - 1099 miles

The sun came out today finally! The riding was great, could really attack the road now it was dry. Broke through the first 1000 miles in a place called Tarragen on my way to Slovenia.

Something worth mentioning for non-riders is the camaraderie between bikers.

Whenever you see anyone else riding, particularly touring riders you try to always put your hand out to acknowledge them. i kind of biker salute or high five but with out the contact. Its quite reassuring.

As the weather was better and was really getting into the riding I decided to head for the Vrsie Pass a recommended mountain pass rather than head straight for the coast.

The pass is at 1612m and parts to the pass had gradients approaching 18%, which for my little loaded up Vanvan was going to be a challenge, but that's what it is all about so on I pressed.

As I traversed up the pass there were lakes, waterfalls, and incredible views of the glacial formed valleys and rock faces.

As I rounded a corner mid way up in one of the most scenic rides on the journey so far, i heard a rather nasty metal on metal crunching from the bike chain below. The bike wouldn't get into gear! I looked down and could see the chain hanging loose and lifeless from the bike. Oh dear, what followed was a moment of utter panic, bike broken down in the middle of the road on a mountain pass in the middle of no where, followed by a rush of pure excitement, this is what it is all about!

As it turned out I was about 25m from a mountain hostel remarkably. So I pushed the bike up on to the drive, stripped off the bags and asked for a coffee from the proprietor. I was really quite looking forward to finally getting my tool kit out and getting my hands dirty.

At the time I thought of it like surgery, removing all the baggage, laying all the tools out, unfortunately I didn't have a nurse to help with a knowledge of mechanics, so out came the manual too.

I flicked through the manual hoping to find the section on when the chain falls off, but of coarse they don't tell you about that! So it was the good old take everything off put it back together and see if it works. So That's what I did, took the covers off, unbolted the back wheel slide it forward put got the chain back on, re-aligned the back wheel tightened up the bolts put the cover back on and fingers crossed pulled up the road, and it was go, go, go. She was fine, I fear the problem could have been avoided in the first place had the chain been tightened. i was neglecting my maintenance.

Although I could of pushed on I felt it was right to celebrate my first mechanical triumph with a beer and a stay at the tranquil hostel.

Day 8 - Mihov Dom

I think I was really starting to get into the travelling spirit here. It was perfect for it. A quiet mountain retreat, run by a Slovenian couple who kept themselves to themselves.

After the highs and lows of the day before and the jubilation of fixing the bike, I decided to mark the occasion be climbing a near-by mountain. The mountain was called Spik and was 2472m and a 4 hour climb up and a 3 hour climb down. I left quite early hoping to be up by 1pm.

The climb was alot harder than I had expected and rations were tight with only a small bottle of water and a sandwich made from breakfast left overs.

Also the peaks around me were going in and out of cloud and I could only imagine how easy it must be to get lost in thick cloud. I pressed on with an added eagerness to get the top. As I went up I broke through the tree line and there were spectacular views, and it was very peaceful on my own. The ground had started to be covered in snow and as I went higher this turned to a crisp ice. I was a little worried as I have little mountain climbing experience and only had my Dr. Martins on, also I was completely knackered, resting often. As I neared the top it got quite slippery and eventually i came to a ridge, no more than 50cm wide with sheer drops either side, it was about 2m long and on the other side was a permanent climbing wire, going up a rock face. Now this was a little surprising. I looked around and unfortunately there wasn't a friendly Slovenian mountain guide about to jump out of a hut with a harness.

It was a tough call to make but I figured I had already done pretty well and perhaps free climbing up a mountain face covered in snow and ice in Dr Martins was pushing my luck, so I took in the view at 2400m enjoyed the crisp mountain air and excepted I wasn't going to make it all the way to the top whats 72m between friends. Perhaps it was a lesson in knowing your limits!

On the way down I threw my mobile phone off the side of the mountain into the abyss.

Day 9 - Piran, Slovenia, 1254 miles

I had a great ride down to the coast and that is what it is down! I was free wheeling much of the way, as I dropped in altitude the air warmed up and the thermals came off. It was almost the summer days I had been looking for.

When I arrived in Piran, I quickly found a camp site and head to the harbour for a swim. The Med was beautiful and warm!

Piran was not only a beautiful and old harbour town to explore but it also became a kind of pit stop for me. On route somewhere, a pressurised can of grease has been pierced and covered all my cooking gear with a thick green sludge. The label on the can said extremely toxic to aquatic life, and even though I am not a fish i wasn't taking any chances. I think all the other campers thought I had a serious case of OCD because it took me a good hour of cleaning to get the two pots and 1 mug clean and a couple of different cleaning products.

I followed this by washing all my cloths too, god knows what they thought but at least I was ready for the road again.

Day 10 - Piran

I took another day allowing my cloths to dry and soaking up some sun. By the afternoon i was a little board though and headed inland to see some caves.

These were quite exceptional, in fact i believe they are the biggest caves open to the public. More than 3 million years old you are taken into the network of caverns on a small train, much like the old miner trains you see in films. The caverns were huge.I will try and post some photos at some point.

Day 11 - Bihac, Bosnia-Hertzgovinia - 1580 miles.

As I headed back inland the landscape changed dramatically, not geographically but how people used it. As you broke away from the coast you went through Croatia, passing many small farm steads and eventually finding myself at some incredibly dramatic lakes! They looked like something out of a movie set. As I explored the small abandoned roads around the lake I eventually turned up at some sort of Information centre and a bus load of American tourists. I think they were as surprised to see me as I was them. It turned out that these lakes are a major attraction and normally you enter them through some sort of gated, shuttle bus, amusement park front. Have to say i am glad I missed that.

As i approached the Bosnia border there were an increasing number of derelict houses. I came to realise these were Bosnian homes, that people were forced to leave when Bosnia split from Croatia during the collapse of Yugoslavia. It was quite sad to see so many derelict homes, covered in graffiti. Near the border, along the road edge were many signs with skulls on, these warned of landmines and again there were alot of them, lining the road. I definitely couldn't stop for a wee, even if I needed one.

Once in Bosnia Hertzgovenia, I realised it was quite a different place. It seemed a little less organised than Croatia, the roads weren't exactly in perfect condition and the towns seemed different. The shops were covered in signs and displaying there products where ever they could and open late in the evening. Then I saw mosques the first time I had seen a mosque in Europe. I was heading towards Sarajevo and night was descending. I need to find somewhere to stay. I wanted to camp but in amongst the chaos of this new land, I couldn't see it happening. I got to the major town of Bihac and got a hotel room. I went out and all around me were young people. In the streets, the parks, by the river. I thought it must be a festival or something. As I walked though town i passed a cinema, on the window there was a no guns symbols, this slightly concerned me. This implied that people were in fact carrying weapons and that if on your Friday night wanted to go to the cinema, I afraid you had to leave it at home.

Later I also saw the crumbled remains of a church with more youths drinking in the shadows, now I don't think i am conservative or prude, but all in all I was on edge by now. I grabbed some beers from the supermarket and headed back to the safety of the hotel. The next day i found out that Bihac is in fact the proud centre for 4 universities and it being freshers week, perhaps it all made sense after all. Except the guns that is.

Need a break will post the rest of the update later today and tomorrow I hope...