Onwards to Kastamonou

400 km planned today, and suffering from a lack of caffeine ....

More pipeline .... must Google it later.

Mountain roads = mountain views

Eventually the roads improve

Selfie, with some cows.

Lunch was taken at the Nil Cafe .... I can only assume the Nil refers to Nil Alcohol available !

There was no English menu, so it was a case of point and hope for the best.  I managed OK, until I got a coffee without milk, and making "moo" sounds with my hands for horns, still failed to break the communication barrier.

Had to revert to the "Picture Book"

Success

The owner insisted on taking pics of me for her Facebook page, so I grabbed one back.  Had a good laugh, then was on my way.

The afternoon roads were a lot better with decent dual carriageway into Kastamonou.

Kastamonu is an ancient town, and the hotel I stayed in was a old stone built affair, full of ornate furniture, high ceilings, and soft beds.  Excellent ... I needed a good nights sleep.

And after checking in, I spotted a old Haman (Turkish Bath) opposite.  Built 500 years ago.
So that was it, do as the locals... went in and had 16 days of road grime scrubbed of my body ... urgh !

I had a gander around in the evening, and have to say I wish I had more time here.  There's loads to see and I just caught a few glimpses.  I should have taken more photos, but I'm sure you could find them on the web.... start here Google Kastamonu

Another 400 km in the morning, so bed by 10.30, really !

Know your ferries

Today was one of those days that turned from Plan A, to B, to C...

The original plan was to avoid Istanbul and its traffic, and cross the Bosphorus River, north of the city, using a local ferry.
.
A moments lapse of concentration and I missed a turn, and was getting sucked into Istanbul itself.  Found the first exit, and just happened to stop outside a big Harley Davidson dealer.  Thought I would buy another inner tube, but all they sold were bikes and expensive riding apparel !

They directed me to the Honda dealer that was on my way back to the ferry I was originally aiming for.  Once they said, "keep the sea on your right, and you can't miss it", I knew I would.
So, I did miss it, but found the ferry ... Guess what ? Passengers only ... how did I cock that up ? I'll blame the GPS, it routed me that way.

I then had no choice, Plan C... through the city and across the bridge.  I took a scenic way back into Istanbul so as not to retrace my steps, then in fairness the traffic was not as bad as I thought.

View of Istanbul

The GPS redeemed itself by taking me through without a missed turn, and then I was on the bridge ... but gridlock.  Again, after a few minutes a local came riding past straight up the side of the lorries on the hard shoulder .... so I followed him !  I'm sure I should have payed a toll, but somehow the opportunity never presented itself.

The rest of the morning was spent doing some fairly nice roads until my stomach signalled a lunch break was required, so this backwoods diner fitted the bill.

   

Shish Kebab was all I knew in Turkish, so that what I got.

Plus a customary cup of tea at the end.

Shooting on, the roads got steadily worse as I got closer to the sea, ending up with the last 25 km being just a dusty gravel road.  There is a massive pipeline project going on here, and as the site was deserted, I had a little "play".

Not quite the same as in the "Italian Job"

Got to Kerpe about 5 pm, and checked into my first "hostel" accommodation ... The Danube Surf House.  It conjures up images of a evening around a camp fire on the beach with a load of Turkish Surfer Dudes.

In reality, I was the only one there, the place was 10 mins from the beach, and at the end of a housing estate.  The owner, while pleasant enough, had a couple of tiny dogs that growled, yelped and whined, every time they spotted movement.  I asked about breakfast .... "oh, about 9, or 10 dude" (in a Turkish/French accent, but you get the idea).

9 beds in this "mixed" room

So the next morning, I had the last laugh ... and while he was still asleep on the outside sofa ... I set the dogs off !  Left at 8am, minus a breakfast.

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.

Burgas rest day

Not too much to say about today ...

Treated the bike to some tlc

Then had a walk around the mall above .  I have come to the conclusion that everywhere in the world that pleads poverty, well there's always enough people with the cash to support designer shopping malls....

After the obligatory swim in the Black Sea (a first for me),

hit a beach bar, and ended up chatting to a retired Butcher from Manchester.

He put me onto a safari themed sand sculpture display that apparently could not be missed. So, later that evening, I trekked about 20 mins to take a look.

The photos don't do the quality of the work any justice.

Back to the hotel by 9, packed my now all clean & dry clothes, and hit the sack at 10 pm as I wanted an early start for the next days infamous 3 hour wait, border crossing into Turkey.

Je m'appelle Russ

Woke, and scurried down to check the bike .... hmmm, the tyre still had the same pressure as when I left it the night before.  OK pump her up to 40 psi, and go for breakfast.
An hour later, still at 40 psi.  What to do ??

Now the "armchair experts" will say I should have changed the tube, but I recalled earlier days when I ran my notoriously un-maintained KDX200 for 3 years after this goey stuff has sealed a puncture, and in fairness, I thought it might even be an advantage to leave it in there ... heavily swayed by the fact I was too lazy to unpack the left pannier to find the spare tube.
So, all packed and ready to leave by 10am.


Stopped briefly by this display/monument to, I guess the military prowess of Bulgaria, but there were no signs to indicate why ... quick photo, check the tyre, and I'm off.

Well 70 km down the road, and I suspected the back end of the Trannie was weaving a little ... Yup, the bloody thing had suddenly decided to go down.  Saw a village ahead, and turned off into its main square ... I figured if I was going to change the tube that's a good as place as any.  Shade, and perhaps a kind villager.

Sure enough, within minutes of getting the tools out, two Bulgarian farmer types appeared.  They spotted the problem, one ran off, and was right back with some tyre plugs.  Now for those who don't know, these plugs work well on car tyres that don't use tubes, but won't work with spoked tyres and inner tubes.  It almost became WW3 as I tried to stop them pushing one into the tyre ... they were so insistent, and finally I had to unpack just to show them a tube, in the vain hope they would understand.

Success, so then with some gesticulation, they communicated to me there was a "tyre repair man" about 2 km away ... one offers to lead me, so I pumped a bit more air into the tyre, then followed his belching 2-stoke moped to the aforementioned man.

Now communication was a bit of an issue, but I thought if I took the wheel out, he would take over from there.  It worked, and within seconds (and the help of his machines) he had the tube out.  The hole was too large for comfort so I gave him a new tube to fit.  10 mins later job, done and I'm ready to roll .... but No, he wanted to chat, introduce me to the family, and show me the farm.

Now my Bulgarian is zilch, but turns out he spent 7 years in Belgium and spoke French .... ha, I learned a bit of that at school.  So with a "Je m'appelle Russ" and a lost of "c'est bons", the ice was broken.  (For my native Thai readers, that translates to "My name is Russ", and "very good").

With time ticking, I'm now inside the house, and having drinks forced down me.  One by one, more family members appear, including a wailing baby .... great ! Then Mama brings out food ... they had me cornered on the sofa, and escape looked futile.  Oh, grin and bear it ... I was a little hungry by now.

More appeared after this.

So after a delicious bean soup, and something I'm going to call a hamburger, its all smiles hugs and handshakes, and I'm off.  All attempts to pay for the service failed.

Cracked on down some wonderful scenic & twisty roads getting into Burgas at about 5.30 pm... pulled up on the pavement outside the hotel, and while just pulling out one bag to check-in, Bulgarian bitch from hell appears and says I cant park outside her office window.  I try to point to the hotel sign that spans both her office and reception, but while her spoken English is good, her powers of reasoning simply dont exist.

My room - above her office !

After a heated exchange I lost my rag, and shouted "5 bloody minutes, thats all", and if that wasn't good enough then she could move the effing bike herself (she looked muscular enough to do it).

And then my welcoming man on reception clearly needs retraining in customer skills .... I asked where to leave the bike and all I got was a grunt and a shrug of the shoulders.   Can't wait to write the review on this place. although perhaps he's the owner !

So that was it, welcome to Bulgaria.... and my first rest day tomorrow.

Left the bike here in the end, padlocked to that tree on the left, and in view from my bed.

The Transfagarasan Pass - the bits Top Gear didn't show.

What a day of ups & downs ...

Left Sibiu at 8am as I knew it was going to be a long day ... how true that turned out to be.

There's the mountains.

 Within 30 minutes, I'm at the start of the Pass ...but wait, no, the GPS is indicating there is an "alternative" route, so curiosity gets the better of me, and and turn left.  Within a few km, the unpaved road, crosses a stream...

 With the stream successfully forded, the "road" becomes more like a "track" in my book ...

And then the track becomes more like path....

And wet grass with hidden ruts are a lethal combination, even for a Trail bike, let alone a fully laden Transalp with road tyres ......

& down we go !

No damage, just a loose mirror... carry on regardless, only to find a barbed wire fence across the track... bugger.
However, I see a gravel road ahead. so pick my way to it.

Now here is the most remarkable coincidence; I could have stopped anywhere on that road to straighten my mirror, but after I eased to a stop, got off, looked down, and I lie, not.
There is a crispy 100 Lei note (about £30) lying in the ditch.  This photo is exactly what I saw.

I don't believe in much that is not scientifically provable, but there's forces at work here !!  However, not to question the why's and wherefores of possible divine intervention .... I pocketed it !

So, back onto the tarmac and the Pass itself...

Avalanche tunnel

No guard rail on this drop off.

Couple of tunnels just before the summit.

Got a fellow biker to take this pic ....

Nice chap from Poland ... didn't know when I said bye, our paths would cross later in the day. 

Amazing civil engineering, if that sort of stuff impresses you.

Well back to the post title .... the Top Gear team claimed this was the ultimate road, and in fairness, it really is a fantastic ride, BUT....

They must have had the road to themselves that day, probably paid the Police off, and all they televised was the good bits.

In reality, on a weekend, the Pass is more like a procession of cars with ....

Stupid parking

Walkers everywhere

Stopping anywhere

Congestion

Buses blocking one lane of a tunnel entrance

Idiots backing out blindly

Poor road surface on corners.

So with the Pass behind me, it was a long hot afternoon of comparatively dull roads all the way to the Bulgarian border.

At 4pm, back on schedule, I hit the queue for the Border ... which is a long bridge over the River Danube.  The Romanian guards one side, and the Bulgarian the other.  However, the queue didn't move for 3 hours, and I'm just about wondering if it will be another night in Romania, perhaps in the tent.

All of a sudden, Brrrrub, honk, honk ... alongside pulls the Polish biker I met earlier on the pass.

He asks what the problem is, to which I shrug my shoulders.  He dismounts, walks away, is back in 10 mins and says follow me.  So up the side of the queue we jump ... the Police don't seem to worry, and within seconds we are on the bridge.  Once on the Bulgarian side, we queue jump straight to a barrier that is closed and unmanned.  A guard appears from no-where, checks our passports, and we are in.

Matey rides off with a wave ... don't know who he was, or what pull he had,... but as they say, never judge a book by its cover.

But my day doesn't end there ... 2.5 km exactly from the guest house ...

My first flat tyre.  Could see the nail, so pulled it out and tried the "Fix-a-flat" can.  Doesn't do exactly what it says on the tin.

So, out with the compressor, and put enough air in to get me to the Guest House.  Its getting dark, I have been on the road for 12 hours, so a beer, shower & bed was on the cards .  Yes, in that order.

I'll worry about the tyre in the morning ... Goodnight.