Entering Turkey

Wanted an early start as had a good days riding planned, plus the unknown entity of the border crossing into Turkey.  I have heard some going straight through, while others had their bikes practically dismantled by customs.  3 hour waits were touted as typical.


So on the road by 8am, and as soon as I was out of Burgas, the road became an exceptionally smooth and practically empty affair, all the way to the border.  It twisted & turned through the forest and was a great start to the day.

Stopped at the last petrol filling station in Bulgaria as the fuel is 25% of the Turkish prices, and filled the Trannie to the brim.

The border is 1 km further on, but first it makes sense to change your Bulgarian Lev into Turkish Lira.

Round the bend you hit Turkey customs, and its the usual affair of officials smoking outside the building with no-one to ask for help.  So tried one window, and got pointed to an office.  Was missing a stamp from the Police, so onto their window next.  Back to the first guy in the office ..., oh I need insurance now, and that's from yet another booth outside.

Pulled the Insurance agent off the smokers bench, as was relieved of about £30 for a months insurance.  Back to the first guy, who then directed me to another window.  This chap simply wrote my registration number in my Passport ... back the the first guy for the third time, but he was back outside on the smokers bench.  I noticed he was clutching his stamp with his packet of fags, so I sidled up to him hoping he was still "on-duty".

"Welcome to Turkey" he says, as he stamped my passport using his knee for support ... resulting in a faint, smudged, bareley legible imprint.  Border control - its all a big joke sometimes.

The road from the border is first class, and I over-ruled the GPS wanting to short cut a section out, by sending me down a goat track.

Stopped for a Red Bull around lunch, where the bike inevitably draws interest.

Super-size me !

Made good time to the hotel in Kilyos, but staying here was a bit of a mistake ...was supposed to be an idyllic beach cum fishing port on the Black sea.  Firstly the hotel was a dated wreck .. I changed my first room (as it hadn't been sterilised from the last smoking resident), only to be given one with a broken toilet, breathless a/c unit, and patchy wi-fi.  It overlooked the beach so I wandered down .... seemed you had to pay for access.  Being stubborn tight, I saw a few kids were swimming in the fishing harbour ...  it seemed clean enough, so took a brief dip there.

Now its time for a beer ... looked hard for a suitable establishment, only to find the place is full of Muslims, and they don't serve alcohol.  Just seems ironic that eventually I found a can, in a shop, right outside the church (or mosque, whatever they call it).

Back for a surprisingly good shower, then walked out a bit further this time ....followed some girls who didn't have a headscarf on, which led me to a decent bar.  Penne Pasta, good WiFi, and numerous Efes beer finished the night off ... nearly.   Walking back, got allured by a sign saying Ors Disco, open until 4.  Despite the sign, it wasn't open to me ... some "Magilla Gorilla" type said something like "hamster jam", but the crossed arms and spread legs made it obvious my custom wasn't wanted.  Guess I'll never know why.

Bed then ....  I'd run out of options again.