Day 11 - Istanbul - Alexandroupoli

While writing my blog last night there was obviously some bedroom action going on in one of the adjacent rooms. I tell you this because she was very loud and it went in intervals for over 2 hours! Now that's what I call stamina, or there where several blokes.

We set our alarms to get an early start back to Greece to try and avoid the traffic, ha ha. We ended up going round in circles trying to find our way on the motorway in a Westerly direction. It was impossible, four lanes plus hard shoulder of gridlock in every direction. When we did move every inch of space would be aggressively possessed by a vehicle, it was too close for comfort and was an invasion of personel space. We found the best tactic was to ride two a breast. That at leased the cleavage was protected and we each had to only concentrate on attack from three sides.

We left Istanbul, with cloudy grey skies, on the E80 toll motorway and used it as far as we could without going out of our way or ending up in Bulgaria. We turned off and tried to get the credit on our 50 Lira toll cards refunded but the officials were having none of it. We rode through Corlu which seemed to be rubbish processing area. We joined E84/E90 dual carriageway, the road we took previously, through Tekirdag. It was just as potholed with oily tarmac everywhere.

When we where a couple of miles from the border we saw a Police road block, nothing we hadn't seen before, but this time the police (three with guns) were standing in our path and indicating that we pull over and stop. We obliged and got off our bikes with a smile and produced our documents (they like looking at documents). Once the documents were scrutinised and found to be in order, one of the police men announced "Speeding!, radar". They didn't have a speed camera but we weren't going to argue. He then wrote on a piece of paper and explained speed limit 90 KMH (55 MPH) and he said we were doing 112 KMH (65 MPH). OK we may, we may not. It was obvious from the way one of the police men was frantically filling out tickets we were not going to get off with a caution. OK how much? 290 Lira (£120). What! For maybe doing 65 MPH on a now empty dual carriageway that ends at the Border in a mile or so, yeh right, if this isn't extortion from foreign tourists then I don't know what is. He saw our expressions and we said are you sure. He produced a table with fines on it. Sergio pointed out he had made a mistake because the table allowed for lower fines the bigger the motorbike cc. The tickets were amended 140 Lira (£50). We opted to pay customs at the border.

The customs turned out to be the same guy I had bought my visa from. He sat in smoke filled hut, with a sliding window so low I had to crouch (in the stress position) to converse. He was on the phone and was going to deal with us in his own time. We had no Lira, we used it up on fuel, so we were going to have to pay in Euro. He wanted 55 Euro each (5 more than expected) and wouldn't take credit card (only time he smiled when he told us that). I asked for a receipt (he stopped smiling). The receipt was for only 105 Lira. Dodgy bastards.

The Greek authorities were friendly and curtious and I now see their roads and drivers in a new light.

We're back at the same campsite, tents up, swim in the sea, sunbathe, shower, food and bed.

We've ridden in to town. Found an internet coffee shop called Flocafe, a bit like Starbucks but with free WiFi. Sorry forgot to post mileages for the statisticians. Yesterday and today both c.230 miles. Mileeta has now done over 3,000 miles this trip!

Day 10 - Riva Beykoz, Istanbul

Best meal so far last night in a locals Greek/Bosnian resturant. A fresh sea food delight with squid as the main coarse and great local wine by the jug. Public hoiday in the UK, what better way to celebrate than with Turkey. Rode to the border with Turkey on the E85. We saw a large bird of prey swoop down on to the motorway and catch a mouse from the grass verge. We also saw a large convoy of Greek miltary vehicles on the oppersite carrageway. Is there something we have miss, not had any news since left home. We got to the border and went through Greek passport and customs no problem. We then crossed a bridge over in to Turkey which had respective countries military guarding. When we got to the Turkish side we had the first of seven (yes 7!) document checks. He was very abrupt and only wanted vehicle ownership documents, second wanted .... I won't bore you with the details, surffice to say my earlier tricks for Albania were not going to work here. I purchased a visa but Sergio being Italian didn't need one? Shengen agreement I think. UK are not in EU. At the third check I got refused entry! They were not satisfied with my nice white insurance certificate. They wanted a 'Green Card' ? Which is a different type of insurance with offical looking stamps etc. So I had to leave my bike and walk back to the Duty Free mall and get one. Sergio joined me and it was his turn to rescue me. We found a post office but nobody was in it, Sergio asked around and the impression was he was on a break. Then one of the people pointed us to an office across from the post office that could do insurance. A young lady did the honours and for 27 Euro I had 3 months insurance for Turkey on a BMW K1200 GT. Great. Then I had to chase different officials for 3 stamps and 2 signatures in my passport. All done got to another barrier where passport, insurance and ownership documents finally checked and barrier was lifted to enter Turkey. Phew! The dual carrageway was worse than the back roads of Greece and the drivers a hazard. We saw people walking down the central reservation, two women crossing and trying to push a small child through the armaco barrier, horse drawn carts, no lane descrimination, vehicles driving in the oppersite direction down the hard shoulder..... shall I go on? Bloody dangerous. Cars would tailgate inches from the back of the bike. Not good. We headed towards Istanbul on the dual carrageway and then switched to the bumper car race track they call the E80. We reached a toll point but there was no way to pay or take a ticket. We watched cars using a plastic oyster type card. We continued on the basis that we would deal with it at the other end. At the other end we were approached by two guys insisting we had to buy cards from them. When I said they were too expensive the price and currency altered. We declined there kind offer and skirted acroos the traffic queues to an offical looking building. They wanted 50 Turkish Lira each! We tried to explain that was too much and we only wanted 1 or 2 trips on the road. We were getting nowhere, when a young guy getting a top-up explained that that is the lowest credit card they sell but each trip is only 3 Lira. We had no option. We wished we had stayed on the madhouse dual carriageway. The cayous continued and the traffic got worse as we approached Istanbul. We were looking for an exit that would take us to Kumkoy on the West side of the Bosphours at the Black Sea. We saw no exit and before we knew it we had over shot our target, where riding across the suspension bridge and had arrived in Asia. Target exceeded ! We decided that rather than trying to fight the flow of traffic again we would turn off and camp in Asia. We looped around and under the bridge to a town called Beykoz (we don't know why but, I'm sure my daughter could sing a song from the Wizard of Oz play she's in that might explain it). I asked a guy at a petrol station for "Camping, Camp" and made a triangle jesture with my arms. He said "Riva, Riva, nice camp, straight on". We took him at his word and by asking others along the way found Riva. Riva is a small sea side town on the Black Sea, that has never seen foreign tourists. On the direction of others we ended up green laning again in an attempt to find said campsite. When we found it we kept our distanced and decided it wasn't for us. It looked like a refugee camp with structures of plastic sheeting. We had visions of being abused, robbed and killed. We retreated back to Riva and booked in to hotel with a pool, two twin rooms with breakfast and parking for the bikes in the back garden for 50 Lira each (£25). We celebrated exceeding our aim of reaching the furthest east in Europe with fresh sea bass from the Bospherous and local white wine in a resturant on the beach, while watching the fishing boats return up the eastury and after dipping our toes in the Black Sea. I love the irony of celebrating acheving our target with beer and the mosque in the back ground, still, if this evenings anything to go by the omar will be getting his own back at 05:00hrs tomorrow morning. Following the meal we walked back to the hotel and noticed that some lads were watching TV in the local barbers. I articulated in my best Euro could I have a haircut. I was shown to a seat offered tea and one the lads went off to drag the poor barber either from his bed or , more likely, from the local bar at 22:00hrs. The result, I've got a Turkish haircut and very good it was too. The works: head, ears, nose and eyebrows. It will seem funny not riding East any more.

Day 9 - Katerini - Alexandroupoli

Today we were not going to be over ambicious. Took our time this morning and had a coffee and crossant at a place on Katerini beach. Rode the 230 miles via Kavala on the beach road with Fleet Foxes on the ipod. The magnificent viaduct runs through Kavala. We got a municiple campsite on the beach with free WiFi in Alexandioupoli. Sergio went for a swim in the sea. I blogged, charged kit and pottered. Heading in to Turkey tomorrow. There are hardly any roads on the map and were not sure what camping will be available so might get some food before we leave Greece in case we end up camping in the rough. Late start and ealy finish with time to chill on route after yesterday which seemed like the longest day. Not very interesting for the bolg but tomorrow is another day/adventure.

Day 8 - Igoumenitsa to Katrina via Albania

Ferry timetable online was wrong! Sergio managed to make it to Brindisi after a tyre fitter temporary repaired his bike's burnt drive shaft gaiter and checked lubes and brakes. It had taken him 11 hours. He then got a ferry to Vlore, Albania last night arriving at 6 am but miles away from me. After getting off the ferry at 22:00hrs I rode past the desperate types and stray dogs loitering around the port. To the town hotels on the front but they didn't have secure parking and Friday night was in full swing. To make matters worse my Tom Tom did,t have maps for Greece or Turkey loaded. I got out the michelin map and looked at the route out of town it was twisty and over mountains. The short distance I ridden I'd ascertained that the roads where in a bad state of repair, stray dogs on the road and pitch black. I found a petrol station with a cafe attached. I ordered a hot sandwich and contemplated my limited options. It was midnight still warm and only 4 hours before it got light. I parked up discreetly behind LIDL and tried to sleep by Mileeta. The night sky was amazing never seen so many stars but, the barking and howling from the dogs roaming around was disconcerting. I had got in contact with Sergio, he was delayed disembarking and had the same problem as me but worse re satnav not working, no map and been given bum directions on very dodgy roads with a repaired bike.

The mission was on. Repatriate the Scillian Mid Life Rebel. I rode through the sunrise and mist to the albanian border at Kakavia. Queued for half an hour and was asked by the Greek passport officer "What country you?" I replied with all possible answers: UK; British; GB; England, but non worked. Then I remembered Lois Pryce having the same problem so I said "London, Arsenal". He immediately understood and reeled off football plays names that meant nothing to me but I smiled and gave him reassuring "yes's" to each. Right now for the Albanian passport officer. Wasn't sure what entry documents I needed or if I had insurance, so I stayed seated on Mileeta and only gave him my passport. The queue behind me was getting longer and more impatient. When asked for "Moto papers" I made a half hearted attempt to get of my bike, the officer then said in quick succession "number, number", his colleague got up from his plastic chair and stood behind Mileeta and recalled the number plate in an undissypherable (apologies spelling) language. Passport stamped then waved through by customs and I'm in Albania! Not half a mile up the road was a police road block and they were armed. I rode very slowly and grinned my biggest grin and wasn't asked to stop. I came across three more and used the same strategy, except one, which did,t look to me to be the same. I had dumper truck in front of me I hid by riding close and out of there sight line until they didn't have time to respond. I was through, phew!

The country side is stunning, no fences just like Switzerland and grass meadows with wild flowers that stretch from the valley up the side of the mountains. There are lots of, what looked like, giant mushrooms in regular rows across the meadows. They were concrete pillboxes. I was surprised to see flocks of sheep and herds of goats being tended too, but I suppose with no fences they have to. Almost every car was an old type mercedes.

The road I was expecting to meet Sergio on went from open plains to a valley with aqua marine blue river running below. At one point there were stalls selling live trout in tanks. The towns and houses all looked to be half finished. Part concrete shell, part finished.

I'd been riding North on the same road for about an hour and a half, when I decided to pull over at a petrol station which was on hill. I got a cold can of fanta and stood by Mileeta surveying the road ahead for a motorbike, while trying to make contact. When we did, it turned out we were on different roads and passed each other. We arranged to meet at a road junction. I waited in the sun for 40mins but, the sound of a another boxer engine and the sight of a smokie R1200R approaching from the distance and finally a grinning Sergio, made it all worth while. By the time we finally met up it was 13:00hrs and we still had to retrace my steps South back to Greece.

My paranoia was diminishing now that we were two Rebels. The road blocks were a breeze, now we had the challenging of getting out of the country without fines for wrong documents. I'd already thought of this and had planned to use the football banter if it was a man officer. If a lady officer, I had put the picture of my family, that, Adam left on my bike back at Gatwick (day 1), in the clear plastic wallet with bike docs. It was a lady and she spent more time looking at the photo with a bit of encouragement from me saying "that's my wife, my daughter ..." I know very sexist but you women love a family photo.

Back in Greece we turned left to ride the E90, a great recommendation from Theo, it was like riding in Austria again but with dodgy road surface. Instead of taking the "racing line" it was more a case of take the "trail riding" line. Dodging fallen boulders, potholes and undulating tarmac. At one point we reached a "road closed" sign and found that half the road had collapsed into the river some 400 feet below. We rode through, nothing was going to stop us today.

We hadn't seen any campsites so far on route and no Tom Tom. We could have camped rough but had no food. It was 16:00hrs so we decided to head for the coast at Thessaloniki. I spot a sign for an 'ancient site' and suggested we take a detour and have a look. The road to the site was a dirt road that turned in to a proper green lane and went on for about 2miles. Anticlimax, there was nothing to see other than a large mound covered in red poppy flowers. We didn't fancy retracing the route we'd just taken so, a look at the compass suggested it might be better to continue. How wrong, some time later we emerged from the meadows and fields back to the road that now seemed perfectly good for the purpose.

The sun was getting low in the sky so from Omali, we headed for the motorway. When we arrived in Thessaloniki we found a very industrial town and no camping. It was getting dusk and to top it all by headlight bulb had blown!

The map was showing camping symbols further South so we took the E75 and got off at Katerini, and followed signs to Olympic beach, stop for fuel and got directions to a campsite along the beach. Ah! Camping Kristi, I love you. Tent up in the dark with head torch and mosquito repellent, shower then back on bike to an italian restaurant for calzone and beer at 22:30. Knackered!

Today's miles where 430 (mostly in the wrong direction), rode from 05:00 to 20:00hrs, Mileeta has gone over the 2,000 miles and are in another time zone +2hrs ahead.

Day 7 - Brindisi

I pitched the tent so it was in the shade for the morning sun, but found in the morning, when packing away a family of arthropods (millipedes) had made home under the ground sheet. Cold open air shower this morning, I think they call it invigorating, I call it: good job the sun is shining and I've got my big blue towel.

I had a chill-out day today. Only 90 (+48 I'll explain) miles to the ferry terminal at Brindisi. So took a packed lunch and went to find a special beach away from the crowds that only motorbikes can find.

Mileeta decided on our choice. We got stuck in the sand! I got off her and she just stood there with no stand, as if to say "it's too hot, this is our beach". Who was I to argue. The sea was crystal clear and as flat as a mill pond this morning. Got out of my bike gear before digging and hauling her out. Not easy fully loaded. How those Paris-Dakar boys do it I don't know. Got her on to the rocks then went for a swim to cool off. Bugger, I'd left my blue towel at Campo Freddio, 24 miles away! Spent time sunbathing, swimming and had my lunch at my own private beach. Contemplated leaving my towel but, decided to ride the 48 mile excursion to save it.

Got a text from Sergio to say he was on route to join me at ferry terminal but only got as far as Palermo (Sicily) when his rear brake overheated and melted the final drive oil seal, producing copious amounts of smoke.

I got to the ferry port at 13:15 and went to the Blue Star ticket office (Biglietteria) to enquire about availability and details. It turns out that today, there is only one ferry and it leaves at 14:00hrs! Not 18:30 as we had thought. Next ferry is tomorrow at either 11:00 or 18:30 hrs. I tried calling Sergio but got no reply so sent him a text to say that I was going today and would wait for news or him in Greece, Igoumenitsa. I bought the excellent value 27 Euro ticket.

Sorry guys no photos of the ship due to a mad rush through the bueractratic red tape of having separate tickets for bike and me and being checked three times. I was the last to board, or just in time, before setting sail for 8hrs to Greece on the Ionian Queen. Hope I don't have to use these, bye bye Italy.

Day 6 - Bari

After a good nights sleep in the olive grove, I woke this morning to piece and quiet. The only noise was a single bird song. Not the type I'm used to back home i.e. the french president chanting wood pigeon "Sarcosi, Sarcosi". No this was different, unless the pigeon was taking the piss and calling me mad to be doing this trip, it was a Cuckoo!

I left at 07:00hrs and got 100 miles in the bag before fuel and breakfast stop. I totalled 365 miles today. I managed to get some twisties in too while crossing to reach the East coast. Some say I'm inspirational; well there is plently of parking in the shade. Other say I'm mad; well the truck says it all.

I came across a pack of cute white fluffy sheep being herded away down the road in front of me. When out of the blue, six of them at the back turned and ran straight at me with there teeth gnashing and barking. I was saved from being ravaged by the shepherd, who whistled and they stopped, turned and sauntered back to blend in with the rest of the flock. Who's ever heard of white fluffy sheep guard dogs!

Tried the Tom Tom campsite search and tried a couple on route to Bari. They were both not up to much so carried on and tried again coming in to Bari. Being a fan of the original film the "Italian Job", I couldn't resist the one I choose, the irony of it made me laugh. So I turned up and the first thing I did was get my trunks on and swim in the warm (not Dubai hot) waters of the Adriatic. Tea tonight and pack lunch for tomorrow cost 8 Euros with a decent bottle of local vino. I'm at "Campo Freddio" LOL