We stayed two nights at Santa Rosa beach cafe near Alexandropoli to rest our aching bikes as they needed a rest. Obviously we were fine! This was the only site open as we are too early for the camping season, except for a huge Municipal campsite nearby, but that was too reminiscent of a deserted campsite from the previous night that was so spooky we chose to camp on the beach outside a friendly Taverna, where we could buy cold beer and listen to local music that sounded like a small Sitar, or as İ called it, a 'Baby Sitar'.
There was a few strange goings on in the deserted Fanari campsite and we chose not to speculate, as this only made it seem stranger by the minute. Full of empty caravans, some still had dirty washing up in the sinks, and beer ın the fridge! Your guess is as good as mine!
We had another interesting shopping experience at the local Lidl supermarket. We'd bought liquid yoghurt instead of milk and a sesame seed cake that looked like marble cake. This was added to the pizza yeast we'd bought in İtaly instead of butter!
Geoff went to town looking for the elusive internet cafe while İ had a relaxing day strolling the beach. The sea looked inviting for a swim until İ noticed thousands of gallons of brown water being pumped into the bay from a building site, leaving a long stretch of brown seawater along the coast. İ'll save the paddle for later then! Over a pork kebab that evening we decided to nip into Bulgaria as it was not too far out of the way. Little did we know that all roads North were dead ends, leading to houses or farms. Eventually we asked a man at a small town shop, who lead us to an official looking building, where from behind a large desk, perhaps the town mayor or government official sat us on a huge soft black sofa. He drew a map, explaining that although we were 5km from the border it is closed and no access. A few locals walked across there illegally but we were not to. Naturally we had to take a look!
The road wasn't too bad once the farmyard was negotiated, but after a mile or so turned to dusty gravel. Well, we'd ridden this far so carried on. The gravel turned to a narrow twisty farm track suitable for tractors but we were 'confident' if not graceful! 10km later we spotted a row of white stones marking the border with Bulgaria. There was some razor wire left in the bushes and the track heading into Bulgaria had been blocked by soil for some time. A small shack had been built by someone who must cross there regularly on foot. We took photos and İ received a text message from M-Tel welcoming me to Bulgaria. That was good enough for us, and ticked off another country. Probably the only two English guys to cross there, and definitely on English bikes! The second country we've visited and not spent a penny! The road carried on but was impassable giving us no choice but to return South back into Greece to find the nearest border with Turkey.
The main road made my bike feel as smooth as a magic carpet after the farm tracks! Geoff got stung for about the ninth time, but on the plus side, I hadn't. With the exception of getting stung for 'tax' by the Albanian border guard, no bites or stings at all for me! Mind you, Geoff did get some revenge when he stopped at some traffic lights, coughing after swallowing a small fly! Most people must think he's a nutter, doing his best impression of breakdancing on a bike in front of the Kosovan police while being stung seven times by a wasp, and coughing his lungs up at the lights in front of bewildered bus passengers who obviously couldn't hear him cough, just convulsing while eating their local wildlife. He's not a nutter, he's British don't you know, and a good laugh, from my point of view anyway!
Well we didn't need a Carnet for Turkey, just a three month visa and 15 Euros and insurance for 5 Euros. That's at bit cheaper than Macedonia at 50 Euros! Especially as we rode straight through in a few hours! İmmediately the warmth of the Turkish people equalled the warmth of the sun. The Greeks were fine but after experiencing the over friendly Albanians, they obviously prefer to mind their own business. İn Turkey we were back amongst people who waved and tooted horns wherever we went. İ was still smiling at the Turkish border guard who called me Alan Ambramovitch, because İ should support Chelsea and not Manchester United! We were happy to pronounce Manchester United as European Champions, forgetting the history between Galatsaray and United, so were not met with the same amount of glee.
Passing hundreds of rice fields and old Renault 12s, we stopped for fuel where Geoff gave biscuits to some children in a neighbouring field while İ watched the pump attendants sit smoking at the pumps! The road South avoiding İstanbul looked a good choice, especially when we saw it went all the way to Gallipoli. The town was a poor area but kept alive by the ferry to Lapseki, which we chose to cross on our way back from the war graves in the morning.
We grabbed a local map of the graves and set off after giving badges to three kids who insisted we listen to their prowess at naming football stars, some of which we actually knew, and chatted to a guy from Hackney who had returned for compulsory 1yr military service. Estuary English is taking over the world
The narrow one way road climbed steep up to the many war graves and unfortunately was a tad congested with about 100 coaches! We walked along the Australian gravestones reading the loving memorials, saw the trenches, then onto the Turkish ones before getting caught in between all the coaches making their way back down. İ'd never been so hot on a bike in my life, then İ felt a tap on my shoulder from a heavily armed guard, luckily very friendly, who directed me alongside the coaches and into the cool breeze back down the steep hills, where we found the Hotel Kum campsite. Good enough for two tired bikers, especially when the on-site restaurant sparked up the barby for probably the best food İ've ever had, except for Boot steak and ale pie in the Lake District, but that's pie obviously! We were even treated to a fabulous sunset, and watched a pond full of ferocious terrapins make a meal out of the local bread which is excellent.
Why this is off season for camping İ don't know, surely 36 degrees is hot enough?
Next morning we just caught the 11.a.m ferry from Gallipoli after Geoff found free internet access in town after İ noticed a few laptops being used there the previous day. The metal ferry floor was cambered, offering us more fun than we could handle, getting two heavy bikes onto centre stands! Osgood, a young man learning English chatted to us while we drank more Nescrappe' who seem to have the monopoly on coffee all the way from Croatia Eastwards. Which begs the question, why is there only one Monopolies commission? Osgood asked the difference between 'İ am going' 'İ have gone' and 'İ have been.' İt seems many foreigners learning English have problems with he over complicated 'past' 'present' and 'future' aspect of the language, but usually end up speaking better English than most of us!
Geoff and İ had a congratual handshake at entering Asia and headed for the nearest large town for some 'interaction' with some locals.
Biga was the next destination, simply because it's there and full of people to interact with. After riding a little further into town a man riding a Yamaha Virago stopped alongside me, shook my hand saying 'Welcome, welcome' told Geoff to follow him, and we parked in the shade next to a few bikes. Before we could be introduced to everyone, chai was served.
Teyfo owned the sports shop opposite, selling mainly Converse trainers. None in size 13, and apparently more expensive than London. He proudly showed me the hand stitched saddlebag and sissy bar cover made for him by a friend for his Virago. Volcan and Ozzy, two up on a fully luggaged yellow Suzuki GS500 had seen us earlier in town and had sent Teyfo to 'rescue us' as we looked lost! Ozzy spoke excellent English as he has a kebab shop in Ulfracome, not Ilfracome Devon. Then Ayhen, the proud owner of an old two stroke chopper, a Chinese copy of a Jawa 350 İ believe, gave us a bullet necklace each from Canakkale/Geçilmez, then grabbed a Lura, similar to a Lute but with a longer neck, from Teyfo who had been singing to us a traditional song, but was drawn away buy a customer in his shop. Ayhen played a while then gave us his best rendition of 'Knocking on heavens door' on a guitar. We had our fourth chai and Tost, a folded pizza, fantastic! We also met Savaş Dursun, the owner of İsmet Oto garage, who promised us a good price on new Michelin Anakees for the Tigers.
Teyfo, Volcan and Ozzy took us to the garage but the price of tyres, and everything else in Turkey is more expensive than England. But at least we get more chai for our trouble! Volcan needed chain lube from a nearby industrial estate, and Teyfo took the opportunity to disappear with Geoff on his Virago to look at an old Simpson bike he was interested in buying. Also showing him a secret place but that's Geoff's secret! Volcan and Ozzy had to get back to a town near İstanbul, but decided instead to show us a good beach for a swim and help us find a campsite.
The warm sea at Erdeck was the calmest yet, more like a lake, and the dozens of jellyfish didn't sting, which was nice. Off to the Albatross bar for a frosted pint, then Volcan rushed off to pick up Ayhen who was on his way to us bringing Geoff's notepad that he'd left at the tyre garage, but his bike was kaput! When they arrived, it was off to a good kebab shop for some proper local meat dishes washed down with fresh yoghurt drink. Ayhen decided to stay at the Albatross bar for a day or two, to get his bike fixed. Possibly a magneto problem and not something we could fix for him.
Volcan and Ozzy roared off along the coast considerably faster than the national speed limit, which luckily for us, was still a mystery, so our ignorance gave no problems or guilt keeping up. Except for melting tarmac, bumpy pebble dashed roads and glare from the sun, it was quite a ride for me as İ don't normally ride faster than İ can see. Campsites here are few and far between, not normally a problem for us except at this time of year, all closed. Two local old boys jumped on their yellow scooter to show us a good spot overlooking Marmara İsland, saying it's the driest İsland in the world and something to do with marble was all İ could gather as my Turkish is less than fluent. Geoff jumped on the back of the scooter to be shown an alternate spot on the beach which was perfect and already had two tents there. Ozzy bid us farewell while we waited for Volcan to pray at sunset, then we waved them off on their 300km ride in the dark to İstanbul.
The two tents on the beach were owned by two brothers who arrived four days ago on a small boat. One raked the sand for our tents while the other made chai. We sat under a solar lamp hung in a tree drinking chai, watching the sun set over the sea of Marmara. İt's a hard life this rough camping, but one we are becoming seasoned to! We heard what we guessed were dolphins breathing in the bay, and could just see them breaking the surface in the darkness. What a day!
İt's a long way to the Black Sea from here, so we left at 6a.m. following a scenic route laid out by Ozzy, alongside a 30km long lake, where we stopped for our first bad coffee of the trip so far. More Nescrappe' with powdered milk in fact. This region is similar to Northern İtaly, surprisingly mountainous and full of tiny tractors with wives and children precariously perched on the mudguards. We often see the women working the fields while the men seem to spend most of their time in the shade drinking chai.
We made good time on some of the faster main roads, reaching the Black Sea by 2.30p.m. All the coastal towns were preparing for the summer rush, but as usual were not ready for us. A man at a petrol station said 'Two campsites, one Kilometre.' Naturally our keen and honed instincts led us straight to nothing, so İ guessed at a small enclosed area which turned out to be a private housing estate by the beach. A maintenance man looked confused but perked up when he understood 'denız' and 'swim,' showed us the beach saying ok to camp. A few minutes later he returned with 'Polis' an older man named Ali who lived here but worked in Ankara for the Police. He let us pitch tents in his garden after more chai at a house opposite his, owned by his dad and his girlfriend, a teacher from Ankara, who plied us with fresh organic strawberries and honey from their garden. Ali's wife was also a teacher from Ankara. We showed them our route, then laughed at the universal inability for humans to fold a map!
We couldn't stay long as we both needed to catch up on our journals. We sat by the sea with a cold beer from the nearby shop, then Geoff realised we'd watched four sunsets over four different seas on two different continents in four days! İ doubt that would've happened if we'd planned it!
We have until the 1st June when our Russian visas begin, so we have some time on our hands for a change to just enjoy the scenery along the Black Sea coast, local hospitality and anything else interesting on our way to Trabzon where we hope to catch a ferry to Sochi, Russia.
So far we have been to 21 countries and just under 5000 miles!
England, Wales, France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, Liechtenstein, Italy, Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, Kosovo, Serbia, Montenegro, Albania, Macedonia, Greece, Bulgaria and Turkey!
Just three or five to go then! Some of which appear to be quite large....İ'll let you know!
There was a few strange goings on in the deserted Fanari campsite and we chose not to speculate, as this only made it seem stranger by the minute. Full of empty caravans, some still had dirty washing up in the sinks, and beer ın the fridge! Your guess is as good as mine!
We had another interesting shopping experience at the local Lidl supermarket. We'd bought liquid yoghurt instead of milk and a sesame seed cake that looked like marble cake. This was added to the pizza yeast we'd bought in İtaly instead of butter!
Geoff went to town looking for the elusive internet cafe while İ had a relaxing day strolling the beach. The sea looked inviting for a swim until İ noticed thousands of gallons of brown water being pumped into the bay from a building site, leaving a long stretch of brown seawater along the coast. İ'll save the paddle for later then! Over a pork kebab that evening we decided to nip into Bulgaria as it was not too far out of the way. Little did we know that all roads North were dead ends, leading to houses or farms. Eventually we asked a man at a small town shop, who lead us to an official looking building, where from behind a large desk, perhaps the town mayor or government official sat us on a huge soft black sofa. He drew a map, explaining that although we were 5km from the border it is closed and no access. A few locals walked across there illegally but we were not to. Naturally we had to take a look!
The road wasn't too bad once the farmyard was negotiated, but after a mile or so turned to dusty gravel. Well, we'd ridden this far so carried on. The gravel turned to a narrow twisty farm track suitable for tractors but we were 'confident' if not graceful! 10km later we spotted a row of white stones marking the border with Bulgaria. There was some razor wire left in the bushes and the track heading into Bulgaria had been blocked by soil for some time. A small shack had been built by someone who must cross there regularly on foot. We took photos and İ received a text message from M-Tel welcoming me to Bulgaria. That was good enough for us, and ticked off another country. Probably the only two English guys to cross there, and definitely on English bikes! The second country we've visited and not spent a penny! The road carried on but was impassable giving us no choice but to return South back into Greece to find the nearest border with Turkey.
The main road made my bike feel as smooth as a magic carpet after the farm tracks! Geoff got stung for about the ninth time, but on the plus side, I hadn't. With the exception of getting stung for 'tax' by the Albanian border guard, no bites or stings at all for me! Mind you, Geoff did get some revenge when he stopped at some traffic lights, coughing after swallowing a small fly! Most people must think he's a nutter, doing his best impression of breakdancing on a bike in front of the Kosovan police while being stung seven times by a wasp, and coughing his lungs up at the lights in front of bewildered bus passengers who obviously couldn't hear him cough, just convulsing while eating their local wildlife. He's not a nutter, he's British don't you know, and a good laugh, from my point of view anyway!
Well we didn't need a Carnet for Turkey, just a three month visa and 15 Euros and insurance for 5 Euros. That's at bit cheaper than Macedonia at 50 Euros! Especially as we rode straight through in a few hours! İmmediately the warmth of the Turkish people equalled the warmth of the sun. The Greeks were fine but after experiencing the over friendly Albanians, they obviously prefer to mind their own business. İn Turkey we were back amongst people who waved and tooted horns wherever we went. İ was still smiling at the Turkish border guard who called me Alan Ambramovitch, because İ should support Chelsea and not Manchester United! We were happy to pronounce Manchester United as European Champions, forgetting the history between Galatsaray and United, so were not met with the same amount of glee.
Passing hundreds of rice fields and old Renault 12s, we stopped for fuel where Geoff gave biscuits to some children in a neighbouring field while İ watched the pump attendants sit smoking at the pumps! The road South avoiding İstanbul looked a good choice, especially when we saw it went all the way to Gallipoli. The town was a poor area but kept alive by the ferry to Lapseki, which we chose to cross on our way back from the war graves in the morning.
We grabbed a local map of the graves and set off after giving badges to three kids who insisted we listen to their prowess at naming football stars, some of which we actually knew, and chatted to a guy from Hackney who had returned for compulsory 1yr military service. Estuary English is taking over the world
The narrow one way road climbed steep up to the many war graves and unfortunately was a tad congested with about 100 coaches! We walked along the Australian gravestones reading the loving memorials, saw the trenches, then onto the Turkish ones before getting caught in between all the coaches making their way back down. İ'd never been so hot on a bike in my life, then İ felt a tap on my shoulder from a heavily armed guard, luckily very friendly, who directed me alongside the coaches and into the cool breeze back down the steep hills, where we found the Hotel Kum campsite. Good enough for two tired bikers, especially when the on-site restaurant sparked up the barby for probably the best food İ've ever had, except for Boot steak and ale pie in the Lake District, but that's pie obviously! We were even treated to a fabulous sunset, and watched a pond full of ferocious terrapins make a meal out of the local bread which is excellent.
Why this is off season for camping İ don't know, surely 36 degrees is hot enough?
Next morning we just caught the 11.a.m ferry from Gallipoli after Geoff found free internet access in town after İ noticed a few laptops being used there the previous day. The metal ferry floor was cambered, offering us more fun than we could handle, getting two heavy bikes onto centre stands! Osgood, a young man learning English chatted to us while we drank more Nescrappe' who seem to have the monopoly on coffee all the way from Croatia Eastwards. Which begs the question, why is there only one Monopolies commission? Osgood asked the difference between 'İ am going' 'İ have gone' and 'İ have been.' İt seems many foreigners learning English have problems with he over complicated 'past' 'present' and 'future' aspect of the language, but usually end up speaking better English than most of us!
Geoff and İ had a congratual handshake at entering Asia and headed for the nearest large town for some 'interaction' with some locals.
Biga was the next destination, simply because it's there and full of people to interact with. After riding a little further into town a man riding a Yamaha Virago stopped alongside me, shook my hand saying 'Welcome, welcome' told Geoff to follow him, and we parked in the shade next to a few bikes. Before we could be introduced to everyone, chai was served.
Teyfo owned the sports shop opposite, selling mainly Converse trainers. None in size 13, and apparently more expensive than London. He proudly showed me the hand stitched saddlebag and sissy bar cover made for him by a friend for his Virago. Volcan and Ozzy, two up on a fully luggaged yellow Suzuki GS500 had seen us earlier in town and had sent Teyfo to 'rescue us' as we looked lost! Ozzy spoke excellent English as he has a kebab shop in Ulfracome, not Ilfracome Devon. Then Ayhen, the proud owner of an old two stroke chopper, a Chinese copy of a Jawa 350 İ believe, gave us a bullet necklace each from Canakkale/Geçilmez, then grabbed a Lura, similar to a Lute but with a longer neck, from Teyfo who had been singing to us a traditional song, but was drawn away buy a customer in his shop. Ayhen played a while then gave us his best rendition of 'Knocking on heavens door' on a guitar. We had our fourth chai and Tost, a folded pizza, fantastic! We also met Savaş Dursun, the owner of İsmet Oto garage, who promised us a good price on new Michelin Anakees for the Tigers.
Teyfo, Volcan and Ozzy took us to the garage but the price of tyres, and everything else in Turkey is more expensive than England. But at least we get more chai for our trouble! Volcan needed chain lube from a nearby industrial estate, and Teyfo took the opportunity to disappear with Geoff on his Virago to look at an old Simpson bike he was interested in buying. Also showing him a secret place but that's Geoff's secret! Volcan and Ozzy had to get back to a town near İstanbul, but decided instead to show us a good beach for a swim and help us find a campsite.
The warm sea at Erdeck was the calmest yet, more like a lake, and the dozens of jellyfish didn't sting, which was nice. Off to the Albatross bar for a frosted pint, then Volcan rushed off to pick up Ayhen who was on his way to us bringing Geoff's notepad that he'd left at the tyre garage, but his bike was kaput! When they arrived, it was off to a good kebab shop for some proper local meat dishes washed down with fresh yoghurt drink. Ayhen decided to stay at the Albatross bar for a day or two, to get his bike fixed. Possibly a magneto problem and not something we could fix for him.
Volcan and Ozzy roared off along the coast considerably faster than the national speed limit, which luckily for us, was still a mystery, so our ignorance gave no problems or guilt keeping up. Except for melting tarmac, bumpy pebble dashed roads and glare from the sun, it was quite a ride for me as İ don't normally ride faster than İ can see. Campsites here are few and far between, not normally a problem for us except at this time of year, all closed. Two local old boys jumped on their yellow scooter to show us a good spot overlooking Marmara İsland, saying it's the driest İsland in the world and something to do with marble was all İ could gather as my Turkish is less than fluent. Geoff jumped on the back of the scooter to be shown an alternate spot on the beach which was perfect and already had two tents there. Ozzy bid us farewell while we waited for Volcan to pray at sunset, then we waved them off on their 300km ride in the dark to İstanbul.
The two tents on the beach were owned by two brothers who arrived four days ago on a small boat. One raked the sand for our tents while the other made chai. We sat under a solar lamp hung in a tree drinking chai, watching the sun set over the sea of Marmara. İt's a hard life this rough camping, but one we are becoming seasoned to! We heard what we guessed were dolphins breathing in the bay, and could just see them breaking the surface in the darkness. What a day!
İt's a long way to the Black Sea from here, so we left at 6a.m. following a scenic route laid out by Ozzy, alongside a 30km long lake, where we stopped for our first bad coffee of the trip so far. More Nescrappe' with powdered milk in fact. This region is similar to Northern İtaly, surprisingly mountainous and full of tiny tractors with wives and children precariously perched on the mudguards. We often see the women working the fields while the men seem to spend most of their time in the shade drinking chai.
We made good time on some of the faster main roads, reaching the Black Sea by 2.30p.m. All the coastal towns were preparing for the summer rush, but as usual were not ready for us. A man at a petrol station said 'Two campsites, one Kilometre.' Naturally our keen and honed instincts led us straight to nothing, so İ guessed at a small enclosed area which turned out to be a private housing estate by the beach. A maintenance man looked confused but perked up when he understood 'denız' and 'swim,' showed us the beach saying ok to camp. A few minutes later he returned with 'Polis' an older man named Ali who lived here but worked in Ankara for the Police. He let us pitch tents in his garden after more chai at a house opposite his, owned by his dad and his girlfriend, a teacher from Ankara, who plied us with fresh organic strawberries and honey from their garden. Ali's wife was also a teacher from Ankara. We showed them our route, then laughed at the universal inability for humans to fold a map!
We couldn't stay long as we both needed to catch up on our journals. We sat by the sea with a cold beer from the nearby shop, then Geoff realised we'd watched four sunsets over four different seas on two different continents in four days! İ doubt that would've happened if we'd planned it!
We have until the 1st June when our Russian visas begin, so we have some time on our hands for a change to just enjoy the scenery along the Black Sea coast, local hospitality and anything else interesting on our way to Trabzon where we hope to catch a ferry to Sochi, Russia.
So far we have been to 21 countries and just under 5000 miles!
England, Wales, France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, Liechtenstein, Italy, Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, Kosovo, Serbia, Montenegro, Albania, Macedonia, Greece, Bulgaria and Turkey!
Just three or five to go then! Some of which appear to be quite large....İ'll let you know!
1 comment:
The 'baby sitar' is most likely a
'saz'. Cool instrument with wire frets that can me moved to change the tuning. The best player is David Lindley, Jackson Brown's old guitar player. Check out his official bootlegs.
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