Turkey Twizzler

[Malcolm Leick]

21 days – 6757 miles / 10,811 kilometres - Solo trip – BMW F650GS twin

Countries visited by order: France, Belgium, Germany, Austria, Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria, Turkey, Greece, Bulgaria, Macedonia (for about 30 seconds!), Bulgaria, Greece, Albania, Montenegro, Croatia, Slovenia, Austria, Germany, France.

Highlights:
• Riding and wild camping on the Trans-Alpina in Transylvania
• Romanian castles including ‘Dracula’s castle’, Bran.
• Black Sea coast to Sinop
• Getting pulled over and taken for lunch by traffic cop in Zongulduk
• Unfinished and empty roads though mountains on route from Sinop to Gorem in Cappadocia
• Rock churches and underground cities of Cappadocia
• Stunning lake and mountain scenery around Beyseheir Milli Park/Kovada Golu Milli Park
• Mountain road from Kurucaova to Egirdir
• Ancient city of Olympus on south coast (plus beautiful beach and chilled camping)
• Fires of Chimera (walk from Olympus)
• Acropolis at Bergama
• Anzac War cemeteries and scenery on Gallipoli peninsula
• Non-stop twisty roads and OMG wild scenery through southern Bulgarian mountains
• Staying alive, night riding in Albania!
• Unbelievably beautiful scenery of Skadarsko jesero national park Montenegro
• Camping at Punat on Krk island, and Croation landscape in general.
• Insane 1000 mile in 24hr ride back to Calais from Croatia
• Kindness and generosity of strangers, particularly away from tourist areas.
• All the people met on route who gave me tips on things to see/places to stay.

The approach: Start each day’s ride with a rough destination in mind, which may have been inspired by a conversation with someone a few hours previously. Ride until it starts to get dark. Look for somewhere to sleep. Improvise. Always look for beautiful and interesting places. Trust people.

Aside from the above I had a UKGSer contact in Tekiradag who had offered to give me information and advice on the Black Sea section of the trip. However Birdal did far more than that. The first leg of the journey was the most tiring and unsettling and by the time I reached Turkey I was exhausted, and very very hot! Birdal and his family welcomed me with fantastic hospitality and Birdal spent a long time converting his Garmin waypoints into TomTom format, supporting his detailed notes with information on campsites and things to see. Huge thanks to Birdal. The kindness of the Turkish people I met was outstanding.

The Ride.
Nottingham to Mako, Hungary.
The first thousand miles or so was largely uneventful motorway mile munching. However my first wild camp somewhere near Aachen was a real Blair Witch affair. As darkness closed in I turned off the motorway and headed up a small road into a forested area. I spotted a dirt track which looked promising and pulled over to take a closer look. I just happened to have chosen the one spot with a 12 inch deep hole right below my right foot and the bike keeled over as I dismounted. A good start.

Having secreted the bike up the track and pitched my tent about 30 yards into the trees. I lay there uneasily, listening to the muffled soundtrack of creaking trees and an eerie wind. I started getting the jitters when I heard someone being dropped off near the entrance to the track. Why would anyone come here at this time of night?? Okay, set the alarm on the bike. The alarm goes off in the middle of the night. Who the hell can be out there??? I stay put in the tent where I can’t be seen. The alarm goes off again. My imagination is doing back flips and I keep my knife close at hand. At first light I tentatively creep out to take a look. A large dead bird is stuffed between the head lamp and the mudguard, its bulging eyes staring at me. After the initial paranoia settles down I realise I must have hit the bird in the dark with some now traumatised animal setting off the alarm after sniffing a free midnight snack.

However from then on I am inflicted with the curse of losing things. Where’s my phone. Frantic searching. Okay got it. Damn, where’s my keys?! Frantic searching, unpacking, re packing. Phew got them. Shit where’s my phone gone again???!. This becomes a daily and insane ritual that requires the implementation of rigorous systems. Wallet ALWAYS in left pocket. Phone and knife ALWAYS in right pocket. Keys...shit where did I put them??? Tiredness amplifies the problem hugely.

At a service station somewhere in Austria I meet a Dutch guy heading for the Trans-Alpina in Romania on his Honda Trans Alp. Something about Transylvania grabs my imagination I have to check it out. I set course for Romania. 1 kilometre from the border between Hungary and Romania I spot Gillian, a Latin teacher from New York, her heavily laden 650GS single crippled on the roadside with a snapped chain. She calls the nearby camp site but the owner confusingly interprets Gillian’s explanation that her bike is broken down as ‘you have a dog?’ We are running out of daylight and inspiration when amazingly the camp owner rolls up, assesses the situation and calls his mate with a truck. The sophisticated mechanism for operating the cable that hauls her bike onto the trailer involves twisting two wires together. It takes him a while to work out which two wires have to be joined. Camp at Mako. First night in hammock. Cool and embryonic.


More to follow

 

[Malcolm Leick]

Turkey Twizzler - Romania

Gillian mentioned a couple of Romanian Castles worth visiting - one at Hunedoara and the other famous Bran castle, one time haunt of Vlad the Impaler. In between, a chance to ride the Trans-Alpina.

My innate navigation sense goes haywire when I reach Hunedoara and I ride in and out of town twice before I find the castle. I had a vision of a secluded and misty mountain top location, but it's actually bang in the centre of town. Probably the best of the two castles I visited as it's less commercial. I'm sweating buckets.

Then off to find the Trans-Alpina. I head south to Petrosani and then east steeply up into the mountains on the 7a before joining the 67c itself. You can ride it all the way down from Alba Iulia but some Romanian bikers told me the best and highest section starts south of the 7a. In fact the 7a was more broken up that the Trans Alpina itself.

By the time I reached the trail it was dark and huge fires were burning along the creek that followed the lower section. A very popular camping spot with the locals. A quad biker told me it would be too foggy to ride in the dark as there were big holes in the road where construction was going on. (The route is slowly being asphalted.)

I set off regardless and ride to just below the highest point where I get my tent up for the night. Wonderfully peaceful with the occasional car creeping past slowly and carefully in the night. I'm up at dawn and realise I'm only about 1k from the very top of the highest road in Romania. A few other campers are dotted around and some Polish bikers roll up for a photo op.

On to Castle Bran which turns out to be like Matlock Bath on a Sunday afternoon, (without the bikes). It's very commercial with lots of stalls and cafes outside. Most of the exhibition is devoted to the royal history of the castle, with only one room referencing Bram Stoker and the Dracula legend. It makes the point that most European royals that were around at the same time as Vlad the Impaler were equally bloodthirsty. My Sidi Crossfire boots squeak like a Hammer Horror sound effect, causing much distraction to the other visitors.

Off to find a wild camp. No camping in the national parks, which is probably wise given the bears and wolves! In fact there seems to be no organised camping in Romania. Camp sites marked on the map are just areas for wild camping. Lots if picnickers when I arrive, eyeing me with curiosity. A local economist shares Vodka, Coke and Water Mellon. His wife has a look which says, 'my husband is very drunk and I don't know why he is talking to you'.

By nightfall, most have left. I look forward to a night of peace. The one and only dog in the valley has chosen to sit next to my tent. All night he barks to the one and only dog in the next valley. In the morning I have a stand up bath in a stream, while the dog sleeps soundly.

Pics from castles and the Trans-Alpina - sunset and sunrise in Transylvania

More to report follow - I will insert a link to Picassa when all pics uploaded.

 

[Aidan1150]

Very good Malcolm, keep it coming.

 

[the venturer]

Go! Go! Go! Malcolm. I'm in.
Get ready for a ride together next summer.
Don't forget you have a home here.

Best Wishes.

Birdal

 

[Malcolm Leick]

Turkey Twizzler - on to Tekirdag

From Romania it's a blast straight through Bulgaria to Tekirdag, west of Istanbul. No one seems to like or trust the Bulgarians but I think the country has a nice feel and vow to return.

Turkish customs is very hot and confusing, involving a multitude of visits to different booths to get a visa, insurance and all the right stamps. It was easier getting into Morocco! As I enter one booth there is a particularly attractive young women official. I feel embarrassed because I'm dripping sweat and my sand coloured trousers (bad choice but cheap in a sale) are covered in dirt and oil. Then I realise she smells worse than I do and I don't feel so bad.

I'm paranoid about the speed limits here because they are different for bikes and ridiculously slow. I crack on regardless and get pulled over by traffic police. As soon as I say English he waves me on. I reach Tekirdag and meet Birdal in the centre of town. I'm really tired and stressed and glad to see a friendly face.

At his house we pore over maps while his wife pours the tea. They are both English teachers which makes life so much easier. Birdal has done lots of off roading around Turkey on his 650 single and gives me details and GPS coordinates for camp sites and things to see and do.

The next morning, primed with tea and knowledge, I'm heading for the Black Sea coast.

 

[Malcolm Leick]

Cheers Birdal. I'm writing as fast as I can! I start my teachers training course on Monday and still have essays to finish so have to prioritize them over the weekend. I had such an intense trip. Every minute was so full on. A great adventure. Something I will never forget.

 

[the venturer]

Cheers Birdal. I'm writing as fast as I can! I start my teachers training course on Monday and still have essays to finish so have to prioritize them over the weekend. I had such an intense trip. Every minute was so full on. A great adventure. Something I will never forget.

Take it easy man. Life is full thingies to finish. Glad that you have finished a geat riding. One can easily understand you have had great fun added to your experience.
Malcolm resting in the villa. A smiley on his face. You should have seen him last night.


Next day, just before he sets off for the Black Sea.

 

[Malcolm Leick]

The motorway past Istanbul is insane. Worst driving I have experienced so far (I will come to Albania later). Birdal has tried to explain the speed limits about 20 times so far but I think I am suffering from seasonal discacula and the information just won't stick. Write it on your TomTom advises Birdal (who thinks my TomTom is a piece of crap.)

My AA breakdown cover runs out East of Istanbul as I leave Europe for Asia. My bike thinks it's funny to start spluttering and choking as the city sails by. Thus begins an engine problem which stays with me for the rest of the trip. Every time I reach 4000 rpm it stops accelerating, chokes up like a limiter has kicked in, and then several seconds later fires off like a turbo has switched on. Very disconcerting on overtakes. Fine after about 4200rpm.

Eventually I'm off the racetrack and on to smaller roads before hitting the North Coast and Akcakoca. I find Camping Hamburg. I am their only guest and hang my hammock between the trees. In the morning, I play another long game of find the keys, completely unpacking before I remember I put them in the slot for my back protector for safekeeping.

I take a quick swim on the local beach before suiting up and riding to the Genovese castle 1k up the road. There I discover a much nicer beach (in picture) and hydrate with Liptons tea before heading East. I have started late and will pay the price.

The roads wind their ways through lovely green hills dotted with sleepy villages. By lunchtime I'm tentatively navigating my way through the town of Zongulduk. Shit! A motorcycle traffic cop is behind me and flagging me down. He strides over and and I ask if I did something wrong. 'No, no, I just wanted to check you have everything you need. Would you like some tea and food?' Well hell yes please! We ride off to a small cafe overlooking the sea and chat about bikes, biking and the curse of lost keys. It's not just me!

He joins my Facebook and gives me his mobile number in case I have any problems with police, or anything else in Turkey. He then gives me a motorcycle escort to the correct road out of town (at 100km/hr!) and just to impress, pulls a car driver over as we part. One of the last things he says is 'It's the same all over the world...people hate bikers!'

Emboldened with the long arm of the law on my side, my speed begins to creep up.

Birdal's notes instruct me to have lunch at the beautiful sea side town of Amasra. It is indeed very picturesque but after my leisurely bonding session with the powers of justice I am now running very late and anxious to find the wild camp suggested by Birdal. I bang off a couple of pics and hammer on down the road. It's getting dark....it is dark. 17km before the way point the road turns to a deep and not so even bed of loose stones, freshly and generously laid onto a nano-millimetre of tarmac. Both me and the bike are trembling. It continues for the next 10km. My headlight lens has already been cracked by an impatient motorist overtaking on similar stuff earlier in the day.

By the time the waypoint comes up I can't see a thing. So far I have had to slow for a tortoise crossing the road, and an owl who just sat there on the white line. Probably a student owl...pissed. I trundle slowly on until I find a layby on a bend, next to a now dried up spring. I hoist the hammock and cover the bike with a tarp. I figure most people won't see the hammock as their headlights swing round the bend. I scramble down to the beach and hear voices in the trees. Muffled.

I hear the voices again some time later. What are they doing down there? Then I see a light coming towards me through the trees. I jump out of the hammock and light my gas lamp so they know I'm there. The voices go quiet and their light goes out. This continues throughout the night. Why won't they come up? Are they trying to find another way out without passing me.

It gets more ludicrous. I start a pretend conversation on the mobile. I set my gas lamp where it will illuminate the entrance to the track from where they will emerge, while I lurk in the shadows with a knife. What the hell would I do with it???!!! At about 3 in the morning, I have adopted the philosophical position that if they are going to do me over it is meant to happen so be happy.

They must be smugglers waiting for a boat to come in. As if to confirm my theory, I see a light on the water. I light my lamp. The light disappears around the corner of the bay. Then it returns. Hey Malc, did you ever consider that they might just be night fishing, in a boat, and that's why they never come up?? Why did I have to read all those Enid Blyton books when I was a kid. It's damaged me for life!

The next morning I look a wreck...and where the hell did I put those bloody keys!!!

 

[Malcolm Leick]

More very pretty scenery to Sinop but the road reconstruction is relentless. They must have had a special offer on gravel (extra coarse) that month because they pile it on thick like cream on fresh strawberries.

I check into the Campsite at Sinop and head into town to find the many sites that Birdal has highlighted. I feel a bit like Aneka Rice, rushing round to find them all and no one seems to speak English. I successfully tick off the ancient castle walls but a hot and squeeky search (those boots) fails to reveal the old prison. A nice town deserving more of my attention, but I head back to camp for a cool swim in the sea and a healthy meal of beer and bread. What did I have to eat yesterday?...oh yeah..beer and crisps. Beautiful sunset.

The next morning a Dutch couple tell me about Cappadocia with its rock churches, underground cities and fairy towers. Okay so I'm supposed to be heading East, and Gorem is 320 miles south. But they did say that they had travelled all over Europe and it was the best thing they had ever seen. No argument, this is adventure riding. Half an hour later I am heading South into the mountains and the temperature drops to a much more comfortable 19c.

But there is no tarmac on this road at all, and the only other vehicles are gravel loaded trucks heading north. I have to hold my breath as they pass as the dust is thick and choking. Fantastic! When three trucks come along at the same time I worry about the following ones not seeing me in the dense cloud.

These roads seem to go on forever. I eventually emerge in a town and then find myself on another new road project for well over an hour. I speculate that the road might just run out at some point in the middle of nowhere at which point I would have to ride all the way back. At one point mounds of rubble block the way but I wind my way through them. And all in the midst of stunning mountains and woods. Then the landscape completely flattens out into vast open plains with a long stretch of 90mph road. (I gave up on the speed limits and just did my own thing).

In one town I stop for loaf of bread at a bakery and the guys bring me a cup of tea. At another village a bunch of local boys gather round, one disabled in his own motor scooter/van. When I get lost villagers run off and find someone who can speak English. At a roadside spring two guys in a lumber truck pull in and give me baklava, another man gives me fresh green chillis.

The engine nearly dies all together and I get a deja vu feeling about side stand switches. I have been here before, but only when the stand has been choked with mud. Eventually I roll into Gorem and find Kaya camping. Probably one of the best camp sites in Turkey, overlooking the fabulous valley of fairy towers, and with a swimming pool to cool down in.

The camp site is full of French, German, and Italians. Not seen a Brit since I left Dover. At dawn the sky is full of hot air balloons lit by the warm glow of the morning sun, floating almost silently over the valley below.

 

[Womble]

A great ride report so far - keep it up!

 

[JohnnyBoxer]

This is excellent stuff, very inspiring

Your offroading has improved, Malcolm

 

[Malcolm Leick]

This is excellent stuff, very inspiring

Your offroading has improved, Malcolm

Hmm. Thanks for the compliment Johnny but I did have one tumble on a steep descent of a forest trail. The tarmac road I was on suddenly terminated (another construction project) and a local chap used the international language of mime to indicate there was a track through the woods that would join up with the road I needed to be on. Very steep he said.

I set off full of bravado but as the track rose though the rocky hills the stones got bigger and the riding more difficult. Then I hit a dead end. Having struggled to turn the heavy bike around, going downhill was proving more challenging than going up. On one tight bend the front wheel decided to go lay down in protest and some hot and sweaty weight lifting inevitably followed.

Eventually I spotted a spur going off to the left, which I'd missed on the way up. Soon I was back on track but the steering wasn't quite right for a while until I got my tools out, so to speak.

 

[Malcolm Leick]

Picassa link for the full picture story so far;

http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/111196388305967806340?authkey=Gv1sRgCMKNvIqZoLa-xAE

Start with the Calais to Aachen album and work your way up through the albums following next days date. Everything below is non related but I can't work out how to separate it.

I will add more pics over the next few days. Takes a long time!

 

[Malcolm Leick]

Turkey Twizzler - Gorem, Cappadocia

Ok. The story continues. Rest day in Gorem, Cappadocia.

Kaya camping is a 10 minute walk up the hill from the Open-Air Museum, which is about 1.5km from the village of Gorem itself. I'm now going to quote directly from the Rough Guide to Turkey, pg 473.

The Museum is 'the best known and most visited of all the monastic settlements in the Cappadocia region. It's also the largest of the religious complexes , and its churches, of which there are over thirty, contain some of the most fascinating frescoes. Virtually all date from the from the period after the Iconoclastic controversy, and mainly from the second half of the ninth to the end of the eleventh century.'

Whether you are interested in history or not, its an extraordinary place. From the outside the volcanic rock churches look very primitive, but some of the paintings on the inside, particularly in the Dark Church are very sophisticated.

The museum and the village of Gorem do attract a lot of tourists (something I tried to avoid in general) but Kaya camping is a good refuge. There are restaurants in the village if you want them, or like me you can stick to the old Coleman dual fuel.

The other must-see sites are the underground cities, the best of which is at Derinkuyu, 29km south if Nevsehir. The eight floors below ground level drop about 55 metres.

'What you will see includes: on the first two floors, stables, wine-presses and a dining hall and school with two long, rock cut tables; living quarters, churches, armouries and tunnels on the third and fourth floors; and a crucifix-shaped church, a meeting hall with three supporting columns; a dungeon and a grave on the lower levels.' Rough Guide to Turkey, pg 466

Again, lots of Americans and other nationalities, but quite unique. In both places there are plenty of English speaking guides offering their services, but I just tagged onto other groups, punctuating the commentary with my squeaky boots.

There are other sites to see, and the owner of Kaya camping will give a you a map with the best ones highlighted. Two was enough for me before sinking my toasted body into the cool camp swimming pool.

If you are visiting Turkey, make sure this is on your itinerary.

Strange thing was, now I was surrounded by Europeans, no one spoke to me. It says a lot about Europeans!

A few pics below. More here http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/111196388305967806340/2010_08_21Gorem?authkey=Gv1sRgCMLL6pHV58eGtgE#

 

[Malcolm Leick]

Turkey Twizzler - on to the Lakes and Olympus

This turned out to be a long day - about 430 miles. First I headed west to the beautiful Lakes near Beysehir and Egirdir. The first 240km is dull straight line riding across a flat and featureless landscape to Konya. The scenery improves radically as you head west though rocky woodland to Beysehir. The road then follows the lake along its southern and western shores towards the mountains, and the scenery is in the OMG category.

At Kurucaova a narrow lane heads west up into the mountains towards Egirdir itself. The road was not shown on my map but it's fully tarmacked, and very twisty with fantastic views of the lake through the dense forest. On the top I met a couple of heavily laden German bikers on KTM 690s heading for Africa. I was hoping that if I parked close enough to the KTM they would make a baby, but sadly this didn't happen.

The camp site at Egidir was very disappointing so I made a break for the south coast along the back-roads of Kovada Golu Milli Park. I was rewarded with cool lakes, forested gorges and tumbling streams, but as I descended from the hills the temperature climbed to a toasty 38C.

My TomTom had a list of camp-sites on the coast at Antalya but they were uniformly awful, rammed into a strip of heaving commercial beach between the billboards for casinos and other seedy attractions. Having just floated down through heaven, it was like riding into the worst kind of dusty hell!

I was feeling desperate and tired abut I set my TomTom for a 12hr ride NE. My brain couldn't compute anything more sensible at this point. Picking my way through the chaotic peak time traffic I spotted a BMW 650 single and stalked the rider until I could flag him down. Double luck! Not only did he speak English but he worked for the regional tourist board. He told me about Olympus, 50km south of Antalya, and an hour later I was camped up in a little bit of hippy heaven.

It's virtually on the beach, about 7km off the main coast road with a very laid back feel about it. It would have been nicer if the loo seat didn't have a crack in it that pinched the BMW sore spot on my bum, but I met some lovely back-packers there and chilled out well over the next 24 hours.

A short walk along the beach is the ancient ruined city of Olympos itself, and walking 45 mins in the opposite direction brings you to the eternal flames of the Chimaera.

Legend has it that a fire breathing monster is imprisoned below the rock and flames have been burning on the surface for centuries. Best seen at dusk, but avoid the coach loads of Russians stumbling their way up the steps in the dark without torches. It costs a few Turkish Lira, but we decided that being a natural phenomena, we should boycott the turnstile. The back-way through the woods, past the bored Doberman (really) proved to be a bit of challenge for my anarchist friends in flip-flops.

If you are still not interested, the sea is like a warm bath and a midnight dip under a full moon and stars is quite magical after seeing the flames, especially after a bottle of red wine.

 

[Malcolm Leick]

Turkey Twizzler - Olympos pics

Egirdir and Olympos pics on Picassa


http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/11119...GoremToOlympus?authkey=Gv1sRgCN6FvYWNteKUkAE#

http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/111196388305967806340/2010_08_23Olympus?authkey=Gv1sRgCLyEneryn4qu5AE#

 

[Malcolm Leick]

Turkey Twizzler - Now the rest

I'm starting to get bored with this so lets wrap this up ASAP!

Left Olympus and headed 350 miles NW to Bergama. Had a bit of a tumble in the backwoods thanks to some misunderstood directions about a diversion (See above). TomTom came up with a brilliant Lucky Dip route for the final section that took me through some tiny villages that seemed to be having late afternoon scooter conventions at the cafes.

Checked out the Acropolis at Bergama (see Picassa pics) and then rode 330 miles to Fanari in Greece, after taking the ferry to Gallipoli to visit the war cemetries. Beautiful place...very sad.

http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/11119...25BurgamaAnzac?authkey=Gv1sRgCLf-hunQlOKrygE#

At the camp site at Fanari I met a Bulgarian family who told me about a border crossing into Bulgaria that was directly north of Xanthi, but not yet on the map or TomTom. Perfect, as I really wanted to get on a Bulgarian road that followed the mountain range running along it's southern border.

Amazing twisty road up to the small border post. Then a fantastic road west from Zlatograd to Petrich. TomTom took me off down a 15 mile blind alley to the small village of Murga where a local biker told me the bridge had been down for 15 years. U turn. Fantastic, wild broken up road though, so worth it. Nearly got taken out by a 4x4 who was sharing the same 9" strip of tarmac, heading in the opposite direction.

http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/11119...XanthiBulgaria?authkey=Gv1sRgCIiEvbr7yN6h7QE#

Stayed in a very nice hotel in the forest for £11. Bulgaria is cheap! Better than getting eaten by a bear I decided.

Next day - Macedonian border. 50 Euros for insurance please. Sod off! I ride 10 ft into Macedonia, U turn round the customs post, and head back to Petrich. 20 minutes later I am crossing the border back into Greece and follow the roads that skirt the border with Macedonia to Florina. From there its a short blast to the Albanian border.

Not sure what happened here but no one mentioned insurance and I was getting really confused which countries were in the EU or not. The presence of EU flags (road building projects) didn't help. Anyway I launched myself onto the roads of Albania as darkness fell and scared the shit out of myself, riding to Pogradec while local driver demonstrated that they really are the worst/ most enthusiastic riders in the world (that I know). A pretty lakeside resort.

See pics: http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/111196388305967806340/2010_08_27Albania1?authkey=Gv1sRgCIKo-efuzZmaHA#
and
http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/11119...8AlbaniaCroatia?authkey=Gv1sRgCO3ZmsCPpLD8PQ#

Next day, into Montenegro. 10 Euros at the border for insurance. Bargain!

Riding the coast road takes you through the Skadarsko Jezero National Park. This was without doubt the most stunning scenery I saw on the whole trip, in fact any-where/any-time in my life. I couldn't stop to take pics but my neck was twisting round so much it was like a scene from the Exorcist. Here's a link to Google images so you get the idea.

http://www.google.co.uk/images?q=Sk...&source=og&sa=N&hl=en&tab=wi&biw=1280&bih=675

On into Croatia with a camp just over the border at Molunat and the next day 400 miles north near Baska on Krk Island. Rest day. Calm before the storm.

http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/11119..._29CroatiaCamp1?authkey=Gv1sRgCPOZ8PH_tsmJWg#

It was at this point that during one of our very expensive telephone calls my girlfriend and sponsor said something like, 'Darling have you forgotten something?' Slow whirring of cogs. Faster whirring of cogs. Beads of sweat break out. I have booked the Chunnel to return on Sep 3rd. It's her birthday on the 2nd. She says, 'It's fine, don't worry'. This is women's code for 'You are going to die, very slowly and painfully.'

At 5.30pm I climb onto the bike and ride through the rest of Croatia, through Slovenia, and into Austria (5C and raining). All those extra layers of clothes which I thought were a waste of space are piled on under my rain suit. 3 hours kip in a rest area and then back on the bike. Germany. France...Calais. Its 5.30pm. 1000 miles in 24 hours. I feel ill in the afternoon but then remember all I have ingested is coffee and chocolate. Water helps a lot.

I can't get on a train until 10.00pm and by that time I know I will be dead (tired). I stay in the Etap overnight and by 11.00am I'm back in Blighty.

By 4.30 pm I am rushing round the shops of Nottingham. Perfume, CD, jewellery. I collect the cake I ordered and her birthday dinner is on the table when she gets home from work. A classic end, to a classic trip. Intense and unforgettable.


Hope you enjoyed the ride. Malc

 

[MattW]

Great write-up and pics Malcolm

Not sure if you know but for next time (hoping you do more reports!), you can embed your picasa pictures into your posts (they can be in the relevant text and are bigger).

cheers
Matt

 

[Malcolm Leick]

Thanks Mat. God, I wish I'd known that. I'm still getting to grips with Picassa. Is there any guidance on this site on how to do that.

Might be a while before my next ride report. My ears are still whistling, and wrists aching from this one. Loved it. First week is always the hardest as it's all a bit strange. Once you get into the rythm of it, you just want to keep going.

I think next time I will try and do the whole Black Sea circuit, but who knows, I might end up somewhere completely different.

 

[MattW]

Thanks Mat. God, I wish I'd known that. I'm still getting to grips with Picassa. Is there any guidance on this site on how to do that.

I don't think there is a tutorial, so I've written one

http://www.ukgser.com/forums/showthread.php?t=241898

cheers
Matt