Went down to look at the bike this morning and to fill the expansion tank again. And looked at the front calliper. And the front fork. And it looks like one of the front fork seals is leaking. Of course it is. I’m sure The Bitch is spending all her lonely hours waiting alone in scruffy yards just thinking of things to fuck with me. I actually suspect she’s self harming.
I need to find a tool shop. I need 6,7 and 24mm spanners to attend to the current woes. Nobody speaks English, and google thinks a shop selling demolition equipment is what I need. It might be right come to think about it.
So I grab a spanner and wander around at breakfast looking for help. I see a table with some blokes in branded working clothes. I wave my spanner and one bloke immediately whips out a receipt with an address.
Follow the satnav into an edge of town messy maze of places keeping prehistoric vehicles alive. I’m getting close when my 360 google head spots a spanner on a shop front. Among all the chaos, there is beauty.
I love spanners. I love their weight and balance and feel in your hand. So I buy an extra one just because I can.
It’s a long day of hours of nothing punctuated with towns where it feels like the end of the earth. Bodies and vehicles everywhere. The Turkish don’t care, so i don’t care either and go full on pushy bastard. I even sat my bike in front of a car, looked at the driver, tuned the engine off and crossed my arms because he wanted me to turn out of his way.
Getting close to Iran too now.
When I got to Van everything was fine until about a mile out. Then the traffic got so bad I had to abandon for a while. I was getting loads of people hooting me and when I stopped there was petrol pissing out the vent on my extra fuel tank all over the wheel. Of course there was. And the bike was having another meltdown and pissing itself in public. Of course it was. After about 30 minutes a bloke came out the shop I was parked out side. He’d used google translate. It said ‘roadside assistance?’ Oh yea. I’ll just call the AA. Nice of him though. The day was nicely finished by the hotel not being where booking.com said it was. Which was nice.
I’ve been fighting with myself all day today. Thinking about cutting back. Taking a different route home. Avoiding all the places I know I’m going to suffer. Maybe just parking the bitch in a lake and flying back. I know there is trouble ahead.
Thing is, my whole life and career I’ve not been very good at anything much. I’m just very very bad at giving up.
And another worry I’m having is the almost total lack of other travellers. I must have seen about 3 or 4 in the whole of Turkey, and none over this side at all.
Maybe I’m just here at the wrong time of year. Of perhaps I’m here at the wrong year of time.
I’ve been having a bad run of hotels with dysfunctional air conditioning, or in last night’s case, missing. It was roasting in room 101, yes really. There was a window but it stepped straight out onto an internal building aperture with a flat roof. My wife would have closed it. Bolted it. Put bars across it. She would be paranoid about being molested in the night. Me, I set the window wide open. I left a light on. I put out a sign. Nothing…
The Bitch was right where I left her. Leaning against the wall surrounded by people already hawking cheap plastic washing up bowls. I know I berate that bike but I do love it. It’s like a Moroccan donkey. It gets kicked, beaten and bashed but still it goes ever forward.. hopefully. I even feel guilty about it sometimes. Until it suddenly flashes ‘front brake switch failure’ before I’ve even got into 3rd gear..
Get out of Van ASAP. If ever you’re thinking of going. Stop right there. Don’t do it. Stay way way outside on the lake. Van is an absolute hole.
The satnav is going bonkers. Must be getting close to the Iranian border. It keeps loosing its mind. Unable to decide anything. Must be close to the border.
The mountain tops are dotted with all sorts of nefarious infrastructure. I’m probably right now riding through the equivalent of a microwave. I stop the bike, run up the hill to one of the Iranian outposts, grab a big red phone on a desk and shout
WILL YOU LOT PLEASE KEEP THE FUCKING NOISE DOWN. You’re welcome.
I’m on the way to reason No 1 today. I want to see if I can get served coffee in the small town I got refused at couple of years ago. It’s all very quiet and empty. Walk in and it looks like it’s under new management. Womanagement. I’m surprised the wokarati haven’t got their tits in a tangle about that word yet. It’s sure to come. Anyway, these women manage to make me the best cup of coffee I’ve had in Turkey. And cake too. The cake has some ice cream in the middle. Ice cream of unknown provenance in places like this can often be a short cut to the shits but I’ve had so little to eat though I reckon that would just be like squeezing the very very last dregs out of the washing up liquid bottle.
I have a second cup, just to check I’m not dreaming, then I’m on my way. One down, three to go.
I come over the top of a mountain and see another familiar shape on the horizon. Mount Ararat sitting patiently with a nice white hairdo of clouds.
Doğubeyazıt is the town at its base. It may well have been the first place on earth. Right now it looks like the last place.
I’ve been through here a few times now and I’m on first name terms with Noah. He invites me in for a camel milk coffee and then spends the next 2 hours complaining about how since Covid his vets bills have gone right through the roof. I go to the gift shop on the way out to buy my wife something.
What does every wife want? Big rocks? Of course they do. But my wife is different. She wants them as they are now, not as they are after waiting a few million years with a few millions of tonnes pressing down on them. She wants random junk from special places. And who am I to argue.
Another couple of hours watching the massive world go by and I’m in Kars. Last stop in Turkey. Time for another shave.
I’m taking the scenic route out of Turkey. Climbing the mountain fence that separates it from Georgia.
Starts out cold. The roads are packed. Can’t move for caravans and blokes in Lycra shorts. Jesus this is going to take forever.
Everywhere you look it’s just chaos. Grid locked, the weather is shit and the landscape is batshit boring too.
The only thing keeping me awake is the gravel all over the roads everywhere. I associate the word gravel with words like crash, and other words that rhyme with it … like rash.. and cash.
Last time I was here the border control was like a Gazan Hamas hideout that had been visited by the Israeli army but now it’s all shiny, new and fast. Georgia is quick too because the bike is already in their system.
Go to get insurance and it’s a hole in the wall operation. Like a drugs exchange. I imagine…
There is a young lady behind a piece of glass. She asks to see your documents, and then she asks for your credit card. You just put in the drawer and she pulls it closed and smiles. Christ knows what I’m paying for, or how much it is. I’m not sure by I think I see a pair of bright red Jimmy Choo stiletto’s on the screen. Well she does have a nice smile. I’ll be willing to make that donation in the spirit of entente cordial.
My Satnav is throwing an epic shit fit and has completely lost its mind. I think it’s trying to take me to The Riddlers hideout. That would be interesting.
Tonight it’s Tblisi. A nice city but my mind is on other things. I have to keep moving. I must not stop.
And Georgia knows how to treat the good stuff too. Thank fuck for that!
I’ve not got far to do today so I’m in no hurry to leave. Tonight’s abode is cash only so I take a quick tour of the underground graffiti gallery
Not an invitation I’ve seen advertised before but yes.. let’s go. I was born ready. My brother remembers a competition we had as kids when I did 15 farts in a row before I started suffering bowel dangle.
I had the hotel ship in a female receptionist overnight so as my helmet could get its usual goodbye tickle
Out into the mayhem we go. I take what they call the ‘old military road’ north through the greater Caucasus mountains. It’s a peach. Or a strawberry. Or whatever you fancy. But it’s definitely not a lemon. It’s starts at a lake.
There is a cafe at the lake with a Russian woman that looks suicidal. She motions me up to the terrace and then collapses down in a chair beside me. She looks so sad. I ask her what’s wrong. Her voice says ‘nothing’ but her face says ‘everything’.
Me.. I can think of worse places to be on a sunny, hot Monday.
I’ve decided to try and eat something. So I order ‘something’. When it arrives I feel my eyes contact my stomach and they get a small nod of approval. Hopefully they’re friends again. It’s about bloody time. I’ve eaten so little over the last couple of weeks I’ve achieved near weightlessness.
I go to leave and The Bitch is bitching that I just leave her in the car park and go see the sights. She never gets to see all the nice things. So I take her to the viewing platform and let her look for herself
The ride is …
And when I get to the cheap little hotel and open my door, the view is..
I want to visit the church Gergeti Trinity Church. I tried and failed last time. Now, all religion is bollocks. Thats the limit to which I’m willing to debate the subject. Anyone who believes there is a being greater than themselves to whom they must be subjugated, and in return can delegate all responsibility for all their actions is bound to a life of subservience. But. I make a pilgrimage on foot all the way up to the church and have a quiet word. It never hurts to make a cheeky side bet.
On the way back I saw some Russian bikers that had just come through customs. They’re off down to Turkey then I think their welcome runs out. They said riding through Russia should be ok. Just be careful and don’t do anything stupid. That’s exactly what I’m famous for.
The bike was unattended much of the time and frequently parked in full view overnight too. I just wanted to avoid drawing any unwanted attention to it. It would only take someone with a pair of pliers to ruin everything. There are lots of police about in these countries too and I didn't want to give them any extra excuses either 
