İn the first few days since leaving Prague we embarked on a whistlestop tour of European Capitals. We past through Vienna, Bratislava and Budapest - taking in the sites, eating well, and enjoying the odd drink while watching the football. But we`ve come to realise that cities are best seen on foot and not by sitting on an overheating bike in traffic. So we`ve been avoiding them since leaving Budapest.
Touring through the rural east of Hungary, Mother Nature gave us our first taste of adventure. Having treated us to a few days of glorious sunshine, she decided we were having it too easy and spruced things up with a spectacular thunderstorm. Quick riding and favourable winds kept us dry for a few hours but before long we were surrounded by lightning storms. A deluge of rain followed and the road quickly turned to a river. Seeking shelter in a local bar we made the best of it - enjoying the Portugal-Czech game with the locals. But with the weather showing little sign of letting up, we treated ourselves to another hotel.
The following morning the weather had cleared and we were feeling refreshed. A few miles later we reached the Romanian border and for the first time on our trip had to show our passports. To mark the occasion, Tyson and İ attempted to pull a few wheelies. (Suffice to say we need a bit more practice - the tiddlers we can currently do are more like bunny hops than proper wheelies. But give us a few months and we should have some good pictures.)
Across the border we rolled our watches forward another hour but by the looks of our surroundings it seemed like we`d rolled them back several years. Most of the cars on the road looked like they`d come straight out of the 1970s. About a third of them were the same model - the Dacia 1310 - Romania`s equivalent of the Lada. Another fair chunk of road traffic was taken up by an older method of transport still - the horse and cart.
İn fact, riding through the countryside was like going through a time warp - seeing farmers working the land by hand and carrying bushels of straw on their back. But despite the hardship, people seemed happy. Parents visibly doted over their children who waved delightedly as we rode by. Others gathered on the side of the road discussing the days events and waiting for something interesting to happen. İt was quaint and a far cry from the hustle and bustle of Western Europe.
Although living standards had dropped sharply, road quality remained high and the windy mountain stretches through Transylvania provided no end of cornering fun.
Passing in to Bulgaria İ had expected living standards to take another tumble, but the opposite turned out to be true. Riding along the Black Sea Coast İ kept an eye out for rogue wombles (Uncle Bulgaria) but got distracted by the pleasant smells wafting through my helmet from the beautiful coastal fields.
As we neared the Turkish border İ rode on ahead so as to get to İstanbul early and make the most of the short time İ`d have there. As İ left the others, the sky darkened and soon İ was riding alone on twisty rural roads in another downpour. Remaining stubbornly on the bike, İ soon found myself at the frontier of the European Union and was quickly across the border into Turkey. The same twisty wet roads greeted me on the other side of the border, but now they had a thick layer of mud courteous of some construction workers. İ picked my way carefully through the slippery terrain and eventually got clear of it. After a few more miles İ glanced down at my front tyre, saw that it was clean and decided it was alright to start learning in to the corners again. That turned out to be a mistake.
Although my front tyre was clean the same couldn`t be said of the rear and on a slow left hander the muddy edge of the tyre lost grip and the bike started to slide out. İ did my best to correct the skid but only succeeded in flipping the bike on to the other side of the slippery tyre. The bike fell on to its right hand side and went careering in to the crash barrier on the other side of the road.
Fortunately İ was only going about 20mph and the impact was cushioned by the tyres. As İ clambered off the bike İ took a quick look at myself. No scuffs, no bumps, just a thick covering of mud - İ`d been lucky. But now İ was in a bit of a predicament. My bike was jammed under the crash barrier and was proving stubbornly difficult to shift. Some friendly Turks soon came to the rescue. Barely batting an eyelid at my mud covered appearance they helped me haul the bike out from under the barrier and wheel it back onto the right side of the road. The crash had bent the steering, ripped off one of my tank bags and left a scar-like gouge alongside one of the panniers. The steering was easy to fix and the rest was cosmetic - again İ`d been lucky.
Slightly bewildered by the whole episode İ hopped back on the bike and rode on to İstanbul. With my mind distracted by the crash İ pulled over to fill up with petrol and barely noticed that the price had jumped to over £1.50 a litre - apparently Turkey has the fifth highest petrol prices in the world. A few hours of speedy motoring later İ reached the city İ had been so eager to see.
Despite the crash, İ was glad İ`d gone on ahead. The vibrant streets of old İstanbul were more than enough compensation, and İ spent the next few hours walking among the tourists, gazing over the Bosphoros, and generally enjoying myself. The lads turned up a few hour later and that evening we sat down together for a delicious meal in Sultanahmet. The atmosphere was electric - Turkey were playing the Czech Republic and were down 2-0. But, in what was one of the most exciting games İ`ve seen, Turkey scored a hattrick in the last fifteen minutes and won. The whole town went beserk at that point. Drums and whistles appeared out of nowhere and people broke into song and dance in the street. Every car that drove by (especially the police) were merrily tooting their horns. İt was a marvellous spontaneous carnival and the celebrations went on long in to the night.
The following morning the team temporarily split up. İ left for a butt-numbing 800 kilometre ride to Antalya to catch a flight back to the heart of the comfort zone (London) for a few days of thrilling work. Ted turned around in search of ice cream and started the return leg of his European tour. And Jerry and Tyson set out for a scenic tour of the Turkish coast.
Quite an eventful few days. More adventures to come from Asia and Africa.
Photos of the European leg of the journey are now available here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/tdsmith/sets/72157605721950542/
No comments:
Post a Comment