We spend the last days of October in the Darna Village Hotel close to Aqaba. Finally our netbook discussions come to an end and we buy a cheap one in Aqaba. That should make it easier to keep our families and friends at home up to date.
Wir verbringen die letzten Oktobertage im Darna Village Hotel bei Aqaba. Wir beenden unsere beinahe endlose Diskussion um ein Netbook, indem wir in Aqaba nun endlich ein Günstiges kaufen. So sollte die Berichterstattung nun einfacher werden.

We book tickets for the slow ferry to Nuweiba, because the fast ferry is out of order and nobody can or want to tell us why. The ferry leaves on Thursday at 1.00am but we should be there three hours earlier to do all the paperwork. The scene in which we get now feels unreal to us. Comparable to a wasps’ nest with a not identifiable but well working system the men try to get as much luggage as possible on big lorries, just to take it all onto the ferry. Other men with huge stacks of paper are running from one counter to the next. In the meantime there is already a cue of about 200 men, but Susi is officially allowed to pass them all and so she hustles directly to the counter. Perhaps the only advantage, women can enjoy in this country.
Wir buchen die Slow Ferry nach Nuweiba da die Fast Ferry nicht fährt, uns aber auch keiner sagen kann und will, warum. Die Fähre legt um 01:00 Uhr Dienstag Morgen ab, wir sollen aber bereits drei Stunden vorher da sein, um den Papierkram zu erledigen. Das Szenario in das wir jetzt geraten wirkt skurril, vergleichbar mit einem Wespennest versuchen große Menschemassen noch größere Massen an Gepäck auf Tieflader zu packen, um alles erdenkliche mit auf die Fähre zu bekommen. Andere rennen mit Papierstapeln von einem Schalter zum nächsten, vor welchem sich bereits jetzt schon eine rund zweihundert „Mann“ starke Warteschlange bildet – an der sich Susi aber ganz offoziell vorbeidrängen darf. Der in diesem Land wohl einzige Vorteil den „Frau“ genießt.

The whole ferry is horrible. It smells awful and there are people everywhere. With around 1500 people and the other entire gimcrack the ferry seems to be highly overloaded. The slow ferry is slow. We are happy when we manage the 70km within 5 hours. At the border a man helped us a lot and after 3,5 hours we are done with the hole Egyptian bureaucracy. Gold medal, other people spent the whole day at the border. For the next time we’ll drive with our Egyptian second hand number plates. Our way leads us to Dahab, where we spend some easy days in the crazy camel camp.
Die Fähre ist ein einziger Horror. Zum Hauptdeck gehts immer der Nase nach, für den, der den Gestank ertragen kann. Mit Rund 1500 Personen an Bord, Fahrzeugen und Gepäck ist die Fähre absolut überladen. Die „Slow“ Ferry macht ihrem Namen alle Ehre. Wir sind froh, als wir nach 5-stündiger Fahrt die immerhin 70km hinter uns gebracht haben und finden an der Grenze schnell jemand, der uns behilflich ist. So bringen wir die ägyptischen Grenzformalitäten in rekordverdächtigen 3,5 Stunden hinter uns. Wir fahren, von jetzt an mit unseren ägyptischen second-hand Nummernschildern, weiter bis nach Dahab, wo wir im Crazy Camel Camp ein paar sehr entspannte Tage verbringen.

We find out that the Ferry Aqaba – Nuweiba burned down just two days after we came with it to Egypt. Also the ferry Sharm el Sheikh Hurgada is not working in the moment, so we have to drive all the way up to Suez and then again down on the other side, the consequences are 800km more corneal on our bums. We leave our motorbikes in a hotel in Ras Sudr and drive with the bus to Cairo. People told us to do it like that. It takes a really short time to see that this is a wise decision. The way of how the Egyptian people drive is … strange. Everyone tries to be the fastest from point A to point B. Cairo isn’t just loud, it is dirty. Everywhere are huge amounts of litter. In the middle of the city we saw a little river, filled up with litter and when we had a closer look at it, we could see a dead horse in all that rubbish.
Wir erfahren, dass die Fähre Aqaba – Nuweiba nur zwei Tage nach unserer Überfahrt ausgebrannt ist. Die Fähre Sharm el Sheikh – Hurgada ist derzeit auch defekt und so müssen wir den Haken über Suez fahren, was für uns 800km mehr Hornhaut auf unsere Hintern bedeutet. Wir stellen die Motorräder in einem Hotel in Ras Sudr unter und fahren mit dem Bus nach Cairo, um dem uns prophezeiten Motorrad-in-Cairo-Chaos zu entgehen. Eine gute Entscheidung! Cairo ist voll mit Ägyptern, was wenig verwunderlich ist. Lediglich die Art, mit der Ägypter wehementer als andere versuchen, möglichst schnell von A nach B zu kommen, ist für uns „ungewohnt“. Außer laut ist Cairo vor allem eins: schmutzig. Müllberge, fast schon Müllgebirge inmitten der Stadt, ein Kanal, in dem wir beim genaueren Hinsehen ein totes Pferd in den Tonnen von Abfall entdecken können.

By the way, all the embassies are closed because of the holidays. That means no Visa in Cairo. No Sudanese one and no Ethiopian one as well. Then we head to the Pyramids. As soon as we get closer to the entrance, the people behave really “Egyptian”. People push, scream and hustle. Inside the area we are asked for at least twenty pictures with locals.
Alle Botschaften haben übrigens für eine Woche geschlossen, weil gerade Ferien sind. Also nix mit Visa & Co. Der obligatorische Pyramidenbesuch steht an. Bereits am Eingang geht es sehr „ägyptisch“ zu. Es wird geschoben, geschrien, gedrängelt. Drinnen werden wir überwiegend aufdringlich belagert und um Fotos zusammen mit den Einheimischen „gebeten“.

The next day we drive back to our motorbikes (Hopefully they are still there), then further on to the Monastery St. Anthony. At first a monk showed us the whole monastery. After that he invited us for dinner. I would really like to see that once in Austria. We set up our tents outside the walls, because women must not stay inside over the night.
Am nächsten Tag dann wieder zurück zu unseren (hoffentlich) noch gaparkten Mopeds. Dann weiter zum Kloster des Hl. Antonius, dort werden wir nicht nur sehr freundlich empfangen, ein Mönch führt uns durch das gesamte Kloster und lädt uns auch noch mit einer Selbstverständlichkeit zum Abendessen ein. Das sollte uns mal in einer Kirche in Österreich passieren. Wir zelten vor den Klostermauern in der Wüste, da zwar Männer, aber keine Frauen im Kloster übernachten dürfen.

By the way, we have now lots of new pictures in our photo gallery!   --// November 2011 \\--
Übrigens, wir haben wieder eine ganze Menge neue Fotos in unserer Fotogallerie! --// November 2011 \\--

Jordan

So Marc and I had a very different first night in Jordan compared to poor old Susi. We, being the men, were treated quite amazingly. As soon as we arrived we were bought tea, water to wash with and were taken into a separate sitting room area which was an exclusive men only VIP lounge! We were treated like stars in the spacious room lined with lounging cushions and decorated with huge portraits of king Husain. The night was spent talking about their Muslim faith, Jordan and some of the differences in our cultures. All of this was done in a mixture of broken English and sign language. Their hospitality and kindness was unbelievable and the thought of such a thing happening in the uk seemed like an impossibility. Although I have the utmost of respect for their beliefs and their very open and accepting manner, it was hard to have Susi excluded from a very interesting night. The boys and the girl where both fed and looked after very well and we all slept heavily after our exhausting day/night.

Marc und ich verbringen eine ganz andere Nacht bei der jordanischen Familie, wenn man das mit der armen Susi vergleicht. Wir als Männer werden echt fantastisch behandelt. Gleich als  wir ankommen fühlen wir uns fast wie Stars, wir bekommen Tee und Wasser um uns zu waschen. Wir sitzen in einer speraten VIP mens lounge, ein riesiger Raum mit unendlich vielen Kissen und Portraits von King Hussain. Wir verbringen die ganze Nacht mit Gesprächen über den muslimischen Glauben, Jodanien und Unterschiede unserer Kulturen. Die ganze Kommunikation beruht auf einer Mixtur aus gebrochenem Englisch und Zeichensprache. Die Gastfreundschaft und Warmherzigkeit hier ist unglaublich, so etwas in Europa zu finden, speziell bei Fremden, scheint fast unmöglih zu sein. Obwohl ich höchsten Respekt vor ihrer Kultur und Traditionen habe, war es schwer für mich, Susi ausgeschlossen von dem äußerst interessanten Abend zu sehen. Herzlich umsorgt und nach einem ausgiebigen Essen fallen wir nach diesem anstrengenden Tag bzw. Nacht in einen tiefen Schlaf.


In the morning we were woken by a slightly frustrated Susi saying that she needed to get out. The hospitality had been amazing but the constant struggle with communication was (and always is) very tiring and the situation felt slightly claustrophobic. So after breakfast, being given iced water for our camel backs, taking off the blankets that our hosts had covered our bikes with, it was time to hit the road with our escort to the main road. We said our thank you's and good byes and were ready for Jordan.

In der Früh werden wir von der leicht frustrierten Susi aufgeweckt, weil sie nicht länger bleiben will. Die Gastfreundschaft war unglaublich, aber die  Verständigungsschwierigkeiten (die uns immer noch begleiten) sind auf die Dauer recht ermüdend und die Situation im allgemeinen wirkt etwas klaustrophobisch. Nach dem Frühstück füllen sie unsere Trinkbeutel mit Eiswasser, decken unsere Motorräder ab, die sie in der Nacht liebevoll mit Kameldecken bedeckt haben. Jetzt wird es Zeit wieder auf die Straße zu kommen, wir werden sogar noch bis zur Hauptstraße (ca 20km) eskortiert. Nach vielen Thank yous und Good byes sind wir bereit für Jordanien!

We had a fairly normal day riding through the hills of Northern Jordan heading south and briefly checking out an old fort on the way. The only thing that wasn't too normal was the tendency children had to throw stones at us! We decided to camp near a bedouin family for security and from what we could gather they were more than happy to have a few extra tag alongs. The father came over after a few hours with the customary tea made with more sugar than tea. It was one of those interactions were he made no change to his normal speaking whatsoever. So after a while of using suzi's picture book mixed with hand gestures we gave up and just had a two way different language chat. He seemed really chuffed and it was a lot easier just to babble and smile at each other.

Wir haben einen recht normalen Tag, fahren durch die Hügel von Nordjordanien, betrachen (nur von außen) eine alte Burg/Tempel in Jesha. Das Einzige das nicht ganz so normal ist, ist die Tendenz der Kinder Steine nach uns zu werfen!! Aus Sicherheitsgründen beschließen wir neben Beduienen zu campieren. Der Vater kommt nach einigen Stunden zu uns herüber und trinkt mit uns Tee, local Tee, soll heißen mehr Zucker als Tee.  Es handelt sich um eines dieser Gespräche, wo unser Gesprächspartner nicht versucht, seine natürliche Sprechweise anzupassen, sodern einfach arabisch drauf losspricht. Unsere Versuche, mit Susis Bilderbuch und Zeichsprsche weiterzukommen, scheitert kläglich also beschränken wir und auf brabbeln und gegenseitiges Anlächeln, viel einfacher!

Next morning we headed off to the dead sea looking for some cheap accommodation. We soon discovered such a thing didn't exist, especially when all the hotels are 5 star and they are all booked out for the world economic conference. We carried on hoping to find a campsite we had read about that may still be  cheap and may have some space. We arrived and it wasn't cheap but it had space and it was on the dead sea. We spend one night  in our little chalet and every time we went swimming in the dead sea, we couldn't stop cracking up. The sensation is very strange and quite unique. We soon found out that the 30% salt content causes some pretty major issues when it gets in your eyes, it tastes like absolute shite, small cuts hurts like hell and farting is definitely not advised! So apart from the constant entertainment of the dead sea, we were lucky enough to be next to the wadi m canyon. We had been so concentrated on Syria that researching Jordan had taken a back seat. This amazing narrow canyon with 200m high sides contains one of the rivers that feed the dead sea, which is 300m below sea level. We payed 15 Jordanian dollars (nearly the same as euros) for the mandatory buoyancy aid and the pass to get into the canyon. This was a real little gem and the river was warm with lots of little rock slides and pools laced with chunky rope to get up the rapids. We spent a good few hours floating, wading, clambering and climbing our way up and back down the river. On the short walk back to our bikes our clothes had almost dried and we were happy to hit the road and get some wind flowing through our gear, taking a bit of fire out of the mid day sun.

Am nächsten Morgen fahren wir zum toten Meer und suchen nach einer billigen Unterkunft. Nach kurzer Zeit finden wir heraus dass so etwas zu finden unmöglich ist, speziell weil hier nur 5-Stern Hotels sind und alle wegen der WORLD ECONOMIC CONFERENCE ausgebucht sind. Wir fahren die Küste entlang und hoffen, den etwas preiswerteren Campingplatz zu finden von dem wir gelesen haben. Wir finden ihn, es ist nicht günstig, aber auch nicht ausgebucht und wir sind am toten Meer. Wir verbringen eine Nacht in unserem kleinen Chalet. Jedes mal, wenn wir im toten Meer „schwimmen“, können wir nicht aufhören zu lachen. Dieses Gefühl ist ist wirklich komisch und einzigartig.  Wir finden schnell heraus, dass ein Salzgehalt von 30% einige große Probleme mit sich bringt, zum Beispiel, wie abartig ein einziger Tropfen davon in den Augen brennt. Es schmeckt absolut ekelhaft, kleine Kratzer brennen höllisch und furzen ist wirklich nicht zu empfehlen! Direkt neben unseren Chalets befindet sich ein toller Canyon namens Wadi Punjab, oder so ähnlich. Wir haben das erst dort herausgefunden, da wir uns so sehr auf Syrien konzentriert haben, dass wir uns gar nicht auf Joranien vorbereitet haben. Wir zahlen 15 jordanische Dinar (1 JD = ca 1 Euro) Eintritt, bekommen ein paar Ratschläge und uns wird nahegelegt doch einen Guide zu nehmen, was wir natürlich nicht tun, bekommen aber trotzdem Schwimmwesten und können uns jetzt in den Canyon wagen.  Durch den Canoyon fließt einer der Flüsse die im 300m unter Seehöhe gelegenem toten Meer münden. Die Wände des Canyons sind bis 200m hoch, das Wasser des Flusses ist angenehm warm. Wir waten flussaufwärt durch kleine Stromschnellen, bei größeren ziehen wir uns an Seilen hoch. Flussabwärts ist auch wirklich spaßig, wird lassen uns Stromschnellen hinunterspülen, manche sogar öfters, so verbringen wir einige Stunden. Beim 5 minütigen Weg zurück zu unseren Motorrädern ist unsere Kleidung fast schon wieder trocken. Wir sind  wieder glücklich als wir auf den Motorrädern sitzen und der Fahrtwind, der durch unsere Jacken bläßt, ein wenig vom Feuer der Mittagssonne nimmt.

Unser nächstes Ziel ist das berühmte Petra, die in Wüstenfelsen geschlagene fanzinierene Stadt. Hier verbringen hier vier Tage., Worte können nicht beschreiben, wie einzigartig uns schön dieses riesige Areal ist. Der Eintritt in Petra ist unverschämt teuer (1 Tag 50 Euro, 2 Tage 55 Euro, 3 Tage 60 Euro). In Anbetracht unserer finanziallen Lage greifen wir zu nicht ganz legalen Mitteln, kaufen uns ein 3 Tages Ticket und verkaufen es dann am nächsten Tag um 30 Euro weiter. Keiner merkt es, also alles gut.  Ich glaube Susi und ich haben Petra um einiges mehr genossen als der arme Marc, der mit fast 40°C Fieber 3 Tage in unserem billigen, feuchten Hotel verbracht hat, ohne dabei verrückt zu werden. Von Petra fahren wir 150km Richtung Süden um in die Wüste von Wadi Rum (40km östlich vom Highway) zu gelangen. Wir haben keine Eile, genießen die leeren Straßen und die Wüstenlandschaft auf unserem Weg. Die riesigen Sandsteingebilde von Wadi Rum sind ein Mecca für Kletterer und Paraglider. Unsere Motorräder durften wir nur bis Wadi Rum Village mit uns nehmen, da das ganze Gebiet unter Natureschutz steht. Am Weg dort hin machen wir unsere ersten Wüstensanderfahrungen, wir können natürlich nicht wiederstehen und fahren von der Straße in den Sand. Nach kürzester Zeit stellen wir fest, dass unsere vollbepackten Motorräder mit den straßentauglichen und stark aufgepumpten Reifen dem Sand noch nicht gewachsen sind. Im Dorf angekommen, schlagen wir unsere Zelte auf, wobei wir 2 Euro pro Person zahlen. Gleich darauf beginnen wir mit unseren harten Verhandlungen um den besten Preis für unseren 2tägigen Wüstentrip. Letztendlich bekommen wir einen recht guten Preis, bei einem Freund unseres Hotelbesitzers von Petra. Wir fahren in einem 30 Jahre alten Landcruiser durch die Wüste und besuchen eine natürliche Quelle, enge Canyons, Felsbrücken, Sanddünen und Lawrence house. Die Nacht verbringen wir in einem Wüstencamp östlich einer riesigen Wüstenebene, wo wir einen atemberaubenden Sonnenuntergang sehen können. So atemberaubend wie der Sonnenuntergang ist auch unser Grillhünchen. Auf tradtionelle Weise im Sandofen von unserem einzigartigen Koch zubereitet. Noch glücklicher bin ich, als unsere holländischen Freunde ein paar Dosenbier hervorzaubern, mein ersten Bier seit über einem Monat.

Our next destination was the famous Petra, the amazing city carved into the desert rock. We spent 4 days here and words cant really explain how unique, wonderful and huge this place is. I think Susi and I enjoyed Petra alot more than poor old marc. He had somehow managed to cook up a temperature of almost 40c for 3 days and he spent most of the time in our cheap, dank hotel room trying not to go bonkers.From Petra we headed south on our motorbikes for the 150km drive to get to the desert of Wadi Rum. We took it nice and easy and enjoyed the empty highways and beautiful desert scenery on the way down. The huge sandstone rock outcrops are 40km east off the highway and it’s a bit of a mecca for rock climbers, scramblers and Para gliders. We made it to Wadi Rum village which was as far as we could go with our motorbikes as the whole area is a protected reserve. On the way in we had seen our first real deep, fine sand and we couldn’t resist pulling off for a blast. We soon found out what hard work deep sand riding is especially with our very loaded bikes fitted road tires running at high pressures. So once in the village we got a camp site for 3 euro’s a night and started bargaining with the local Bedouin’s for the best deal on a desert trip for a couple of days. We eventually settled with a guy who was a friend of our hotel owner from Petra. The trip was over two days and involved us driving around in a 30 year old landcruiser checking out all the famous desert sights. These included a natural spring, amazing narrow and deep canyons, natural rock bridges, high sand dunes and the remnants of a house visited by Lawrence of Arabia. We ended the trip in our desert camp set on a big flat desert plain facing west, perfectly situated for a spectacular desert sunset. As amazing as the sunset was our chicken dinner baked in a sand oven the traditional way by our unique cook. I was also pretty chuffed as our two Dutch friends had bought along a crate of beer and it was the first couple of beers I had, had in over a month.

It is 5 30 in the morning and the muezin is calling for the morning prayer. Usually I don't really realise that and sleep ahead. This morning it is different I am totally awake. I can't deny that I am nervous. At 8 we will be at the boarder the Syria. It is the first time that the three of us ride with each other and starting our engines together is a fantastic feeling
indeed!

The boarder crossing (main boarder close to Reyhanli) takes its time, but after 2 1/2h and 40$ lighter we enter Syria. Shitty roads, burned out car and men with guns sitting next to the road built a warm welcome. Now we know we are in Syria!
But the roads get better and we don't feel unsafe at all. People start again smiling and waving when we pass by, like in Albania. This makes our very long trip immediatly nicer.

We have to pass some check points, where armed soldiers sometimes ask where we go. Short before Homs we stopp for food, where we get the best hommus we have ever had. The people are very friendly and enjoy that we are there. Probably not any more often
seen.

Stopping at petrol stations is the first time on our trip not any more a nightmare as the
prices are dirt cheap, around 50cent per litre! Happy days!
After 500km we reach the boarder to Jordan at 5pm. It takes us ages to leave syria. They
have to stamp the carnet, they fill in some things, we come to last last check point and...
we have to turn around because one stamp is missing. We go in one house then in the
next, we pay another 10$, which allows us to get finally the stamp in the first building.
Check point ok, now we are happily looking forward the jordan boarder running arounds.
The jordanians are very nice and it doesn't take long for all the men working on the
passport control to surround me with big smiles and Marc and Tam are toatally ignored.
One of them jokes with not letting in my husband. But all is good and again we start
to run from one buildind to the other. 27€ here, 25 there, the visa is another 20... This
boarder bureaucracy feel like computergames where you don't really know where to go
and what to do, but have to find the diamond, a swort and 10xp points first before you get
the next quest. No matter if if you don't understand what I try to explain. :)
It is pitch dark and we have to find a hotel. I just know one about 40km from the boarder.
I really don't like driving in the dark, cause I can't really see if Marc and Tam are still
behind me if there are other cars. we finally get to a small road, where we are the only
ones. I am curious how the landscape is going to look like in daytime cause now I just see
as far as me light shines and this is not a lot. But I can say for sure that it won't be green.

We stop in a small village to ask for a hotel three men tell us we can stay at their house if we want to, no problem, no money. They seem nice, decision made, we follow them.
The people are really friendly we sit around, get tea. I am asked if I want to refresh a bit, so I go in the house and there is wife and the daughters. I sit down there and wait, and wait, and wait. Now I can wash my face and my hands, but going back to the boys doesn't
seem to be an option. Finally I make it, but it is not long lasting. One man tells Marc pretty fast that I should leave again. Nice! So I hang out with the girls, cook, and look
with them through my "point on it book" three times.
In the morning I am quite happy to leave, cause everyone who knows me can imagin how
happy I am. Me being a woman in that society, might be tricky! :)

_______________________________________________________________________________

Es ist 5 Uhr 30 am Morgen und der Muezin ruft zum Morgengebet. Normalerweise
höre ich das nicht wirklich und schlafe weiter. Heute morgen ist das anders und ich bin
hell wach. Die Nervosität lässt sich einfach nicht leugnen. Um 8 Uhr wollen wir am
Grenzübergang zu Syrien sein. Es ist das erste mal, dass wir zu dritt fahren und als wir
alle auf einmal unsere Motoren starten, ist es ein echt gutes Gefühl!
Die Grenzformalitäten (Hauptgrenze bei Reyhanli) brauchen ihre Zeit, aber nach 2 1/
2h und 40$ ärmer schaden wir es nach Syrien. Schlechte Straßen, ein ausgebranntes
Auto und Männer mit Maschinengewehren am Straßenrand bilden unser herzliches
Willkommen. Jetzt wissen wir, wir sind in Syrien!
Aber die Straßen werden schnell besser und wir fühlen absolut nicht unsicher. Die
Reaktion unserer Umgebung ist plötzlich wieder ähnlich zu Albanien, die Leute lächeln
winken und freuen sich uns auf unseren Motorrädern zu sehen. Das macht unsere
geplante 500km Tagesetappe gleich viel leichter.
Wir passieren einige Checkpoints wo bewaffnete Soldaten uns meistens gleich
durchwinken oder sich kurz erkundigen, wohin wir fahren.
Kurz vor Homs stören wir an einem kleinen Imbiss und bekommen den besten Hommus,
den wir je gegessen haben. Die Besitzer sind total nett und freuen sich, dass wir da sind.
Eher eine Seltenheit in letzter Zeit.
Das Aufsuchen von Tankstellen ist zum ersten Mal seit unserem Start eine richtig nette
Angelegenheit. Die Benzin preise sind extrem billig, ca 50 cent pro Liter. Happy days!
Nach 500km erreichen wir um 17.00 die Grenze zu Jordanien. Es dauert eine halbe
Ewigkeit bis wir Syrien verlassen können. Sie füllen ein paar Formulare aus, stempeln
unser Carnet de passage, wir kommen zum letzten Checkpoint und ... werden nicht durch
gelassen, irgendein Stempel fehlt. Also drehen wir wieder um. Wir gehen in ein Gebäude,
dann in ein anderes, wir zahlen weitere 10$, was uns endlich unseren Stempel (natürlich
wieder in einem anderen Gebäude) ermöglicht. Checkpoint ok, wir freuen uns auf die
Grenzprozedur an der jordanischen Seite.
Die jordanischen Beamten sind sehr freundlich, es ist aber nicht zu leugnen dass sie
an weiblichen Reisenden, spricht an mir, mehr Interesse haben als an Marc und Tam.
Ich werde von lächelnden, aber nicht aufdringlichen Beamten umzingelt, ein Beamter
erbarmt sich und kontrolliert auch die Papiere der Herrn. Alles in Ordnung und wir
beginnen wieder von Neuem und laufen von einem Gebäude zum anderen. 27€ hier, 25
da, das visa nochmal 20... Das Erledigen der Grenzformalitäten ist wie ein Computer
spiel wo man nicht weiß wohin man als nächstes muss oder was man überhaupt machen
muss, sammle einen Diamanten, dann ein Schwert und 10xp bevor du das nächste Quest
bekommst. Kein Problem wenn man nicht versteht was ich hier zu Erklären versuche.
Es ist jetzt wirklich dunkel und wir müssen ein Hotel suchen, sinnes soll ca 40km weit
weg sein, also fahren wir in diese Richtung. Im Dunkeln fahren gehört nicht zu meinen
Lieblings beschäftigungen, weil ich nicht erkennen kann ob die Lichter im Rückspiegel
die von Marc und Tam sind, oder von einem Auto. Endlich sind wir auf einer kleinen
Straße wo wir nur mehr zu dritt sind. Ich bin neugierig wie die Umgebung im Tageslicht
aussieht, derzeit sehe ich nur meinen Lichtkegel, aber ich kann mit sicherheit sagen, das
es hier nicht sehr grün ist.
Wir bleiben in einem hörerinnen Dorf stehen um nach einem Hotel zu fragen. Drei
Männer fragen und gleich, ob wir bei ihnen übernachten wollen, no problem, no pay. Sie
wirken nett, schnell entschieden, wir folgen ihnen.
Alles ist echt nett, wir sitzen herum, trinken Tee. Abdul fragt ob ich mich erfrischen
möchte, also geh ich ins Haus wo seine Frau und seine Töchter sind. Sie bringen mich
in ein Zimmer und ich warte, warte und warte. Nach einiger Zeit kann ich mich doch
waschen, ich will zurück gehen, Fehlanzeige. Endlich schaffe ich es doch zurück zu den
Jungs, aber nach einer Minute fordert ein Mann Marc auf mich wieder weg zu schicken.
Nice! Also gehe ich zurück ins Haus, koche und schaue mir 3mal das Buch „point on it“
mit den Mädls durch.
In der Früh freue ich mich das Haus zu verlassen. Jeder der der mich kennt, kann sie
vorstellen wie gut ich in diese geschlechter trennende Gesellschaft passe. :)

Fotos habe ich leider nur im englischen Bericht eingebaut, sind sonst immer doppelt.

So with every trip you must leave and in doing so you normally have a leaving party or two! I finished working at Fforest on the 16th of Sep after a great week working at the "do lectures". I was initially dreading the craziest week in the Fforest calendar with stories of endless check ins and mountains of washing up. As it turned out it was super smooth, alot of fun and with no doubt it was down to the crack team of gypo's that make up the fforest rable!

So after some manic last minute prep on the bike and moving out of my humble caravan it was time for some leaving parties. Party number one was organised by none other than the legend Kate Emeny and involved some of the shire massive meeting up for nacho's and wine in Solva. This very nearly didn't happen as Chardonnay had a slight woopsy. I had just finished spraying and fitting my lovely new bespoke pannier racks and crash bars (thanks Gary). I arrived home parked and went inside for a well-earned beer. After saying a quick good bye to my lovely sis Shaz I saw her alot sooner than expected. She came back into the house with a pretty alarmed look on her face and informed me that she had kinda run Chardonnay over! I had to walk away and take a few very deep breathes. Luckily enough Charders is a bit of an old hobo and she took it on the chin! One broken brake leaver and a nicely duntched pannier box, not bad at all and I'm sure she'll suffer alot worse in the desert. So with no breaks getting to party number 1 wasn't looking good until Alice and matt came to my rescue in the form of personal chauffeur services.

Party number 2 was up at good old Llanlwni Mountain with the usual west Wales suspects! We had a great night up there and shared some Tudor rose with Chris, lucky and Rambo. A small hard-core stayed the night camping and I'm pretty sure it was the shittiest weather we had all year. So after waking up in 2 inches of water we had to get down the mountain for a fry up at Jan Harley's. I had been bump starting Chardonnay as the starter had decided to pack up the 2 day before I left, perfect. No problem I thought, plenty of strong lads up the mountain, should be easy. What I didn't take into account was how little grip there was on the mountain. To cut a long story short I had to push her all the way to the road in horizontal rain and all the way I was thinking that this heavy lump is meant get me to south Africa!

Onto party number 3. So Jen, our amazing boss at Fforest, had organised a joint "tam driving off to Africa" and "well done Fforest gypo's" party. All the team were mustered up and we drank too much local ale, cider and fired up the famous Fforest pizza oven.

So after all that, all I had to do was pack up the bike and orders the spare parts and arrange delivery to London town, easy. So after packing the bike up a few times and eventually finding the system that least resembled the leaning tower of pizza, I only had to double check my paperwork. To my alarm it dawned on me that I may have been bump starting Chardonnay around with no mot, shit! A few manic phone calls later and I had her booked in on the way through Carmarthen, sketchy counts!
So the next morn I said my emotional good buys and wobbled off down the road pretty worried about a motorbike that that felt more like a boat.

Getting to London town-Tam

So my little drama of not having an mot was quickly resolved and the guys at the motorbike shop were really nice. After pointing out a few things that were advisories (like my modified brake levers) he proceeded to give me a clean mot sheet? With a smile he told that he couldn't have me going off to Africa with any blemishes on my paperwork and insisted I had a free can of chain lube. Feeling quite high off the positive encouragement they gave me, rather than the normal "are you off your tits?" routine, I set off to Cardiff.

After a quick pit stop in Crosshands to have a farewell hug with the one and only Ria beer I was inbound to Splott. I got to India's and was promptly fed an omelette and beans, what a leg end! After a few hours banter with my part time sis, is was time to leave the ghetto of Splott. With an emotional good by strung out a bit with me having to wack my starter motor with chunk of wood I had taken to carrying about! After getting through the rush hour traffic and onto the motorway, I realised I had forgotten my phone. What a muppet, so I dragged my sorry arse back through rush hour and managed to do an equally awkward good bye, with more bashing of Chardonnay to get her started!   

On to Bristol I went. I've found that riding on the bike you get alot of thinking time, mostly what the hell am I doing? Anyway I arrived in Bristol at Meg's new house and was chuffed to find George Wilson and Rob Hartley waiting to help bring all my stuff in. We had a great night involving pizza and beer but it was a pretty early one as I was knackered.

The next stage was off to see the feisty Jo warren (and I must admit I was quite happy I had to wait for the starter motor parts to arrive) in London town. So the first thing I noticed about London compared to any other British city I had been too, was how nuts the motorcyclist are. Mr country bumpkin here was waiting politely in traffic while a load of complete mentalists in suits weave in and out of bus's pulling off some suicidal moves. So eventually I made it to Jo's house and I was so chuffed to see her. So my initial plan of 3 days went out the window and I ended up staying 10! So for the next ten days I had an absolutely amazing time checking out London, eating lots of nice food, catching up with friends, sourcing motorbike parts, moving house with a partially crippled lady and best of all hanging out with that partially crippled lady. London did strike me as a proper city up there will the global big boys like New York, Bangkok and Paris and unlike any other British city I have been too. Strangely for me I did really enjoy and I'll definitely be back.

There was one more excursion I took to meet up with my family in good old Southend on Sea. It had been way too long since I had caught up with all my cousins and nieces and nephews. Another solid reminder of how quickly time moves on, with lots of teenagers and kind running around causing mayhem. Was great to catch up and have a farewell to my ever solid sister and the notorious asbo gay dog, Finn. No surprises that he was sporting another 3 staples in his back, making it his 4th injury this year. Almost as twp as twm, sorry Ind's. After lots of tea, an amazing lunch and plenty of horror stories about how dangerous Africa was, it was time for me to head back to miss Jo's house for a glass of wine.
With my starter motor rebuilt and the last few nick nacks, it was off to the White cliffs of Dover.

France here we come-Tam

So I woke up at 6 in the morning to be on the bike for about 7.15, giving me an ample 3 and a half hours to do the 85 miles. That’s another thing I discovered about London, the traffic is horrendous. In not too long my country boy ways went out the window and I was weaving in and out of traffic like all the suites. So it took 2 and  a half hours to do 25 miles! As soon as I hit the motorway it was flat out for poor old Chardonnay but I was really happy with how she was running. So with 15 mins I made it to the ferry and I was Europe bound. I think that was the first time the enormity of what I was doing hit me and I felt a wee bit lonely standing on the back deck looking at the big White chalk cliffs slowly disappearing.

In no time the ferry was over and I was in Calais. So I rolled off the boat and got into a steady driving rhythm  chugging down the super smooth motorways. On that first day I made really good progress and ended up camping near Reims. So in true Cobbett gypo style I pulled off the motorway and camped down an embankment nestled in some trees. As with most trips getting in the flow at the beginning is hard. I think I made it especially hard for myself meeting somebody so good just before I left :( at least it a great incentive to come home! 

So I awoke from my little motorway home and carried on down through France. I stopped to grab a baguette and chunk of Camembert (a service station special) when I bumped into an English guy driving his new cb 600 back to Geneva. We sat down and shared some lunch and ended up riding most of the day together, until I peeled off to head into central Switzerland. I put in a long days riding and ended up on the Swiss/Italian border not far from Chamonix in another amazing rest stop. All over France and Switzerland they have these amazing picnic sites on the motorway. This one had toilets, telephones, bins, picnic tables, covered eating area and some great landscaped areas that were perfect to pitch my tent.

The next day I figured I was one long days drive from Venice and the ferry to Greece. I started nice and early and drove a stunning road that meandered all the way to the top of an alpine pass. The tunnel at the top was the most direct route but I figured the winding old road over the pass would have better views and be more fun. Both were true but when I had done the 15km to the other side of the tunnel I was greeted with an impregnable barrier and had to back track back and pay the tunnel fee anyhow.

The rest of the day was just motorway slog all the way to Venice. This was made worse by hitting Milan in rush hour, being kitted up in all the gear in 28c heat in crawling traffic was definitely no fun. In fact driving through Italy's industrial heartland was pretty grim, thick pollution haze and loads of fast moving Lorries choking up the roads. I arrived at my campsite pretty late and pretty pissed to be paying €17 for a patch of grass! But I had made to Venice in 3 days."

Sodding Venice-Tam

So i wad really chuffed to have made it to Venice and was looking forwards to having a shower and doing a day’s tourist stuff before I hit the ferry and Greece. The campsite was a bit naff and was kinda like an 18-30 backpackers/ old fart camper van Butlins, nice! Anyway I spent the day hanging around Venice and was truly amazed and bemused with the architecture and the general bonkerness of the place. I kept thinking what a crazy and unsustainable place it was and asking question like "where does all the poo go when Ur only 2ft above sea level?" Anyway I took the advice of Miss Warren and ate a pizza, drank a coffee and finished up with some overpriced ice cream. I felt like I had got lost enough and had my fill of Venice. I was ready to go home to my tent, have a shower and do maintenance on my bike before my ferry trip in the morn, easy.
So when I got back I started to take my back wheel off to fit new wheel bearings. When I took the wheel to pieces I was horrified to find a load of shredded metal filings and a handful of loose, dry bearings. What I soon realised was that the rear wheel had a third larger bearing next to the sprocket. I had two sets of spare wheel bearings but no larger sprocket bearing. After a restless night I phoned the part company in the UK and was assured the parts would arrive at the campsite in 2 days. No real panic, so I spend another day Venice but was soon fed up with the overpriced food and unless you want to buy a tacky opera mask or some rip off Gucci bags there really is nothing to buy. Another thing that adds to the craziness of Venice, it has no super markets, proper shops and alot of the houses are empty and only lit up to add to the ambience! It's is a city that is a sinking theme park. So I was stranded in the confides of Italian Butlins for five days as inevitably the courier took five days not two. My life was pretty boring and I saved mundane jobs like washing for as late in the day as possible. One highlight was the puncturing of my Thermarest which involved finding the puncture and fixing it, that was a pretty sweet day. Apart from that I spend a fortune on shitty wifi cards that ran out before they should have sorting out logistics and talking to home on skype.

On day 5 my parts came at 11 and the ferry started boarding at 11.30, so I chucked everything on the bike, paid my extortionate bill and was on my way. I got on the ferry with no hassle and all I had to do was 1250 miles in 4 days, definitely possible.

Greece-Tam

I love being on ferries and this one was no exception. Sailing out of Venice was pretty spectacular having a commanding view over the city and being on a full size cruise ship in such a narrow waterway was again, very surreal. Being the low season it was nice and empty I just hung out, ate and took some photos. When I arrived in Greece I knew I needed to get to a motorcycle shop (if there was one) as I didn't have the tools to get the old bearings out if the wheel. I drove around a wee while but had no luck. I saw two Greek motorcycle coppers and decided to see how helpful they would be. To my surprise they were amazing and told me to follow them. They took me on a load of back roads and eventually we turned up at a Yamaha dealer with a full work shop. After some chit chat about Swansea fc they buggered of and left me at the shop. Of course it was siesta  time and the owner informed me he wouldn't be open for another 4 hours but for me he would try and make it 3. True to his word he woke the Welsh gypo from his sleep outside his shop 3 hours later. With the right tools he made quick work if fitting the new parts. To my amazement he insisted on no money and wished me luck on my way. I must admit I can be very cynical and often judgmental when it comes to people but time and time again when traveling people show the greatest kindness. I think with travelling (and in life) you have to have a very subtle but strong defensive wall to protect yourself but finding the balance for this wall is tricky, as it's easy to become paranoid of peoples genuinely good natures. After a pretty average camp by the side of the beautiful new Greek highway that had many sweeping bends clinging to mountain sides and long new tunnels, I soon found myself at the Turkish border. I figured this would be a cruise but turned out to be a bit of an endurance event. Loads of guys in aviators, horrible polyester suits and very pointy shoes sending me all over the place in a vague manner, demanding this stamp or this paper be got. Whilst I was walking backwards and forwards I went over and introduced myself to a very tall swede on a 1983 Honda 900 something or other. We had a quick chat and did the normal where are you from and where are you going routine but it looked like the men in black wouldn't let him in as he had forgotten his registration documents. I recounted my bearing story and consoled him that we all make mistakes. We shook hands and separated on our own missions. Another hurdle passed, I was in turkey.

Turkey-Tam

So after my hot, boring and frustrating border experience I was keen to find a bed and some dinner. As always I was trying to figure out the roads, any particular things to look out for and trying to gauge the general temperament of the drivers. Apart from some weird roundabout/crossroads on the highways the roads seemed pretty good and the drivers seemed fairly biker conscious. So after about 45 mins I pulled into a big newly built hotel. The guy running the show was a really keen biker and just about forced me to stay but in the best way possible. Whilst he was helping me park my bike and unload my luggage we saw what looked like a very old 900cc Honda fly down the road. Sure enough within 5 mins the tall swede called Nicholas had turned around and was unpacking his bike next to me.
Next morning with both woke after a good sleep and a much needed internet fix. We had an unusual breakfast and tried to be positive about the couple of days crap, wet weather we were due to drive into.
Our thin veneer of optimism didn't last long as we entered the motorway bottle neck of Istanbul. This was probably the worst days riding I have had so far. The roads were super busy, super slippery, it was really cold and the brown mist that kept clogging up my visor made visibility a nightmare. To make matters worse every few kilometres we came through these in unmanned toll booths. With no idea what to do we kept driving through setting off alarms with different amounts of money flashing up for each bike and each different toll, very confusing. Eventually the roads thinned out, became less busy and we could relax a little.
Well after dark we decided it was time to get off the motorway and find a room for the night. This became a bit if an issue as we had no motorway card to swipe out of the system? After waking some guys up, being told to drive back up the slip roads the wrong way a few times and travel down the motorway further, we eventually got a card that enabled us to travel on the motorways legally. It was only after another minor epic finding a hotel that, at dinner, Nicholas and I actually asked each other our names. We both agreed that it was a very strange time to ask such a basic question, especially after the crazy mission we had just shared.

The next day was fairly uneventful and we passed through the city of Ankara in the heart of turkey. We did do some food shopping as we both fancied camping out somewhere nice. We pulled off the motorway and wet offroad and ended up in the shadows of a beautiful extinct volcano with an amazing sunset. Whilst eating dinner I had one of those “I’m a very lucky boy" and "I really do enjoy life" moments, that are definitely more frequent when on an adventure or traveling.
I woke up really excited knowing that I would see Marc and Suz that evening, after all the hurdles and problems tonight would be the night. We made good progress and were only 30km from the border town of Rehenahli when we stopped to take a photo of the valley stretching off into the distance and into Syria.

Nicholas pulled off to take the lead and he looked like he was enjoying the amazing sweeping road that had wide hairpin after hairpin to the valley floor. When I arrived at the valley floor, a good distance behind Nicholas I noticed the immediate left hand junction to our border town. I guess that he didn't and after waiting 40 mins and driving down the other road for quite a while I decided it was time to go. So our parting was just as unorthodox as our meeting. I hope you’re still having fun on the road; it was a pleasure traveling together and still not 100% about your mental health!
So the next chapter was almost ready to start. I rolled into town and met up with Marc and Suz. It's always strange to meet up with people who are so familiar in such unfamiliar places, especially when you've just ridden your motorbike from the UK. Syria here we come!

Since we left the ferry from Istanbul to Bandirma, there were no big adventures in turkey, but it was really a nice trip.  We enjoyed being in turkey, the landscape, the food, the people, the general feeling is just great.

After reaching Bandirma we are trying to find a campsite near Erdek in the dark. Luzifer doesn't make it better with stopping the engine on her own all the time, which drowns the battery, which finally makes us kick start her every 10min.

We drive further and further to find the camping-site, which doesn't exist any more.

We decide to camp wild next to the small road we are on. Of course the neighbour gets suspicious and comes out of his house. Naci, the neighbour, who is speaking german, says: No problem! and showes us an even better spot to set up our tent. The next 4 days we stay here, without paying a cent and being warmly welcomed by Naci, who gives us food, lets us wash our clothes and helps us where ever he can.

We ride down the eastcoast of turkey to get further south, because the nights in the tent are not really enjoyable any more. As well in turkey the winter is coming up.

We reach a campsite in Ören which is probably built for 100 our maybe even more people, but we are the only guests apart from one other camper van. And as the world is a small place, Musti and Sieglinde (lovely people) don't live far from us.

After Izmir, Pamukkale and then the real tourist areas around Antalya, which we tried to leave behind us as fast as possible, we come to a really good area for riding bikes. Winding up small mountain roads, far away of the region where tourists usually are. The whole surrounding is covered in banana farms and the view is fantastic. Average speed drops dramatically and we enjoy the windy cruising on our bikes.

The only thing which makes us worry a bit is the uncontrolled stopping of Luzifer, so we decide to bring the bike to a service station in Mersin.

Not just that this problem is solved quite fast, we are lucky to get to know Ahmet (the owner of the service station) and his family (Silbe and Melike), with whom we spend every evening with. We have also been with Ahmet on our first Motorbike club meeting with Türk Chopper, although we have no chopper. :) After these days in Mersin it feels quite hard to say Good bye!

Finally on the 16th of october, Tam finds his way to us. The boys feel like they know each other since a long time and that is good. The team is complete now!

Hey all,
they got through Syria allright and are now in Jordan where they are having tea with some locals. They crossed the 500km through Syria in one go.
-

Hey zusammen,
sie sind gut durch Syrien gekommen und befinden sich jetzt in Jordanien. Sie haben die 500km lange Strecke in einem Stück gemeistert und wurden in Jordanien sehr freundlich mit Tee empfangen.

Because Marc and Susi are near the Syrian border, and they won't find a decent PC as easily, I will comment some of which I learn from Phone-Calls and SMS. So hopefully you'll all stay up-to-date as it gets ever more exciting.
At the moment the both of them are in Mersin, Turkey near the Syrian border, awaiting Tam who will join them hopefully on Sunday. Staying in a rather unpleasent hotel, they brought Susi's bike to a mechanic and are eager to move on.

For your convenience I have uploaded the Routes they are taking into a nice little google.maps- plugin.
You can find it here Photos>Routes. So now it'll be easier for us to keep track of their adventures down south.

Greez from Innsbruck,
Felix

-

Da die beiden jetzt kurz vor der syrischen Grenze sind, es immer spannender wird und sie immer seltener an einen vernünftigen PC kommen, werde ich für euch ein bisschen kommentieren was ich aus telefonaten und SMS so mitbekomme, um euch alle auf dem Laufenden zu halten.
Im Moment sind die beiden in Mersin, Türkei nahe der Syrischen Grenze. Sie warten dort auf Tam der am Sonntag zu ihnen stoßen wollte. Untergebracht in einem weniger guten Hotel haben sie Susis Motorrad erst einmal zum Mechaniker bringen lassen wobei es inzwischen hoffentlich wieder einsatzbereit sein dürfte.

Die Routen, welche die beiden nehmen habe ich anschaufreundlicher als Google-Maps Plugin unter Photos>Routes gespeichert so dass man jetzt ein bisschen besser nachvollziehen kann wie die beiden gefahren sind.

Beste Grüße aus Innsbruck,
Felix

After 4 days of enjoying Istanbul it is time to leave. And of course on that day, the weather is horrible. Perfectly organised like always, we check the ferry plan 1h before we leave the hostel and lucky find one boat which just runs during the weekend at 12 30. Enormous high petrol prises and the rain don't make us think too long about taking the ferry the Bandirma.
Spot on 12 o clock we are at the ticket counter, but the man there won't give as a ticket, cause he says there is just a ferry in the evening leaving not in the daytime. A bit disappointed we drive off, pass by the departure sight, which shows Bandirma 12 30.. Hm? Thinking, that guy just doesn't want to give us a ticket we stop and start thinking what we can do. A passenger obviously feels sorry for us lost bikers and explains that it is just not a car ferry. How easy was that?
How to kill 6 hours? Rain just gets worse, so we sit around the harbour and have  a great time with a really funny, cute kitten. Like always it doesn't take long until it is time for food, so we decide to go our favourite little "restaurant", straight opposite of a so called real restaurant. A place where tourist probably wouldn't go to, so just right for us. Big portions, very very nice people who run that place and of course cheap. 4€ for soup, bread, small salad, rice with red bean sauce on top, main dish and a soft drink. :)
Rain gets less, so we decide to visit Istanbuls Ktm dealer. Which shouldn't be head to find after we hot a good description from a well sorted and really good bike shop called “Yildiz Ticaret“, well worth visiting, even if it is just for a nice chat. (Hp: www.yildizticaret.com.tr) The KTM dealer (Atamotor, also great people) is a service station, but not a dealer so there is another one, the realty big KTM store in Istanbul.
Quite a big trip getting there, but we still have 3h left. But 3 hours is not a lot in istanbul s traffic: Absolute chaos with bully Bus drivers, endless not signed out city highways, which always brings us from one wrong in the even worse direction (we even see once the store from one of them), really frustrating!
Finally we reach the mega store to find out, they do not have all the parts we asked for, cause got mixed up with the part number. Heyho, shit happens.
The time is now 47min to departure of the ferry. And it is a really long long way, almost impossible to manage, but we try our best. Overtaking on the left and right, driving on the tram line, honking, being bullies brings us just in time on the ferry, which shuts it's doors straight after we get on. 15sec later we would have had no chance to get on anymore. The istanbul drivers were probably quite impressed by us that they.

_______________________________________________________

Nach 4 tagen istanbul wird es Zeit, weiter zu verfahren. Ausgerechnet an diesem Tag ist das Wetter (zum ersten Mal!) grauenhaft.

Durchorganisiert wie immer, checken wir eine Stunde vor Abfahrt den Fährplan. Wir beschließen, die Fähre nach Bandirma zu nehmen. Angesichts der teuren Benzinpreise und des Regens ist dies eine gute Entscheidung. Pünktlich um 12 sind wir am Hafen um die Fähre um 12.30 zu erwischen. Wir wollen ein Ticket kaufen, der Verkäufer meint: Keine Fähre, erst um 18.30. Enttäuscht fahren wir von seinem Schalter weg und lesen auf der Departure Tafel: Bandirma 12.30. Hm? Nach kurzer Zeit erbarmt sich ein Passant, der unsere verzweifelten Blicke zu deuten weiß, und erklärt uns schnell (im Gegensatz zu unserem Ticketmenschen), dass es sich nur um eine Personenfähre handelt.

Naja nun gilt es 6 Stunden abzuwarten. Der Regen wird nicht besser, sondern eher schlechter, also warten wir und haben unheimlich viel Spaß mit einem kleinen, echt lustigen Kätzchen.

Wie immer plagt uns schnell der Hunger und wir brechen zu unserem Lieblings “Restaurant“ auf. Es liegt direkt gegenüber eines “richtigen“ Restaurants und wird eigentlich nur von Einheimischen besucht. Viel, gut, ganz liebe Besitzer und natürlich für uns ganz wichtig, billig!

Der Regen wird langsam weniger, also entscheiden wir uns noch, Istanbuls KTM Händler aufzusuchen. Die Wegbeschreibung haben wir von einem wirklich gut ausgestattetem Motorradladen namens ''Yildiz Ticaret“, (Ist einen Besuch wert, auch wenn dabei vielleicht “nur“ ein nettes Gespräch herauskommt)
(Hp: www.yildizticaret.com.tr)
Der KTM Händler (AtaMotor auch ganz tolle leute) ist leider nur der Ktm Mechaniker und hat die Teile nicht lagernd. Der Ktmstore liegt weiter entfernt in Istanbul. Noch über 3h bis die Fähre abfährt, das sollte sich ausgehen, aber Istanbul ist anders: Das absolute Verkehrschaos gespickt mit rücksichtslosen Busfahrern und nie endenden unbeschilderten Stadtautobahnen, die beim Verlassen nur wieder auf Andere führen, die uns in die noch falschere Richtung bringen. Wir haben sogar schon den Shop von der Autobahn gesehen, echt zum verzweifeln. Endlich erreichen wir den Megastore, der wegen falscher Artikelnummer doch nur eines unserer Ersatzteile auf Lager hat.

47min bis zur Abfahrt unserer Fähre, verdammt, das schaffen wir nie, probieren es aber trotzdem.

Rechts und links überholen, auf Straßenbahnspur fahren, drängeln und hupen, bringt uns auf das Schiff, das direkt nach unserem Eintreffen abfährt. 15sec später wären wir sicher nicht mehr auf die Fähre gekommen. Die Anerkennung der Istanbuler Verkehrsteilnehmer hatten wir an diesem Tag bestimmt.

What happened since our last last blog entry? As you can imagine alot, but as always we dıdn´t really get very far. But who cares? :)

As our fırst hıghlıght we would name Sartı, the place where Vılma and Robert marrıed, as you have seen on our photos we uploaded quıte a whıle ago.
Everyone probably knows what will happen ıf you are ınvıted to a wedddıng where you just know the couple. Maybe some smalltalk over the table, but that ıs propably the most of socıal ınteractıon whıch ıs goıng to happen. But not on thıs weddıng: 3 days of hangıng out at the beach, cruısıng around on a boat, and havıng bıg dınners together created real frıendshıp! Thanks to all, especıally because we kınd of ınvıted ourselves to thıs weddıng. :)
We are lookıng forward to meet up agaın next year ın Sartı!

Last week we where ın a holıday house (near Xanthı) of a frıend of Helmut and ıt was just amazıng. Georgos and Katherına even fılled up the frıdge for us and to top all that they went agaın shoppıng wıth us. Georgos words: You are to us no strangers, you are lıke our kıds!

After 2 days of raın, sunshıne came back and we had a beach for our own. Don´t get us wrong, we dıd not go to a prıvate beach, ıt was just that noone was there. For greeks the summer ıs over as the school started.
Of course we heard from the snowchaos ın Austrıa and we have to admıt that our Snowboarderhearts were bleedıng. But to be honest, we could be ın a worse sıtuatıon! :)

After our superlong and really beautıful tıme ın Greece we made our way to a country we haven`t been before, to Turkey. To be back on the motorbıkes was just great! If we go shoppıng or just for a short trıp we usually just take one bıke and you mıght ımagıne how it ıs sıttıng on the back. Drıvıng on your own ıs way better!!

Turkey ıs quıte dıfferent from what we thought ıt would be. It ıs green, clean and the streets are really good as well!
Agaın the people are very frıendly whıch makes ıt even nıcer. On the fırst day Marc was helped by a bıker who showed hım how to reach the bank and the next hotel. Susı almost hıt a car, cause of not lookıng ın her mırror, so she waved to the drıver to excuse her. He waved back wıth a bıg smıle! No anger, no shoutıng. Untıl now all these sıtuatıons where happenıng lıke that, so cool!!

What we totally forgot to wrıte: Our trıp ıs way easıer cause a really nıce famıly from Swıtzerland ıs doıng almost the same route, but they are one month ahead of us. So all the really ımportant ınformatıon especıally about the not so straıght forward countrıes ıs sent to us, whıch makes us sleep a bıt better. Check out theır homepage www.toubab.ch, they have a really good blog and an enormously cool car!!



__________________________________________________________________________________





Was haben wir seit unserem letzen Bericht erlebt? Wie ihr euch vorstellen koennt, recht vıel, aber wie immer sınd wir nicht weit gekommen. Müssen wır aber auch nicht! :)

Als unser erstes Highlight würden wır auf jeden Fall Sartı bezeıchnen, dıe Fotos von der Hochzeıt haben wır ja schon lange onlıne gestellt.
Ihr kennt ja dıe Sıtuatıon, wenn man zu eıner Hochzeıt eıngeladen wırd und man kennt Keınen... Smalltalk mıt den Sıtznachbarn ıst das Maximum an sozıaler Interaktıon (Fremdwort ım Travelblog, nıcht schlecht oder?)
Ganz ım Gegenteıl dazu Vılma und Roberts Hochzeıt. 3 Tage vorher gemeınsam am Strand lıegen, Boot fahren, Essen gehen und auf eınmal entstehen echte Freundschaften. Danke noch mal an alle, spezıell da wır uns sozusagen selbst eıngeladen haben. :) Wır freuen uns schon auf naechstes Jahr wo wır uns alle wıeder dort verabredet haben.

Letzte Woche waren wir im Ferienhaus von einem Freund von Helmut in der Nähe von Xanthi und es war der Hammer. Georgos und Katherına haben uns sogar vorher den Kühlschrank befüllt und waren dann extra nochmal mit uns einkaufen. Georgos Worte: Ihr seıd nıcht wıe Fremde für uns, sondern wıe unsere Kınder!

Nach zwei Tagen Regen hatten wir bald auch wieder Sonnenschein und einen Strand für uns ganz allein. Nicht, dass wir in einer einsamen Bucht waren, nein es war nur wirklich keiner dort. Die Schule hat wieder begonnen und der Sommer ist aus griechischer Sicht damit vorbei. Nachdem wir vom Schneechaos in Österreich gehört haben, hat natürlich unser Snowboarderherz geblutet. Aber so schlecht haben wir es ja auch nicht erwischt. :)

Nach unserem wirklich langen aber auch sehr schönen Griechenlandaufenthalt haben wir uns wieder auf die Mopeds geschwungen und sind in ein uns beıden noch fremdes Land, die Türkei, aufgebrochen.
Wieder auf den Bikes zu sitzen war schon toll. Wenn wir nur zum Einkaufen fahren oder einen Kurztrip machen, sind wir wegen der abartig hohen Spritpreise eigentlich immer mit einem Moped unterwegs. Man kann jetzt raten wer hinten oben sitzt. Selber fahren ist trotzdem so viel besser!

Die Türkei zeigt sich in den ersten Tagen (europäischer Teil) ganz anders, als wir uns das vorgestellt hatten. Ziemlich grün, sehr sauber, schöne Straßen.
Auch hier sind wir von der Freundlichkeit der Leute absolut begeistert. Marc wird gleich von einem jungen Motorradfahrer angesprochen, der ihm sowohl Bank als auch Hotel zeigt. Susi schaut einmal nicht in den Spiegel und fährt vor jemandem hinaus sodass er bremsen muss. Sie hebt die Hand um sich zu entschuldigen, der Mann lächelt und winkt aus dem Auto, kein Ärger, kein Hupen, kein Fluchen. Und so ist das bis jetzt immer gewesen, schon sehr cool!
 
Was wir bis jetzt noch gar nicht erwähnt haben, unsere Reise gestaltet sich viel leichter da wir eine ganz liebe Familie aus der Schweiz kennen gelernt haben, die ziemlich genau unsere Route fährt, aber uns zeitlich ein bisschen voraus sind. Von ihnen bekommen wir super Tipps und Latest News aus den ganzen Ländern. Speziell Syrien macht uns durch ihre Infos ein bisschen weniger Bauchweh. Schaut mal auf www.toubab.ch, sie haben wirklich tolle Berichte und ein Wahnsinns Auto!!

Here you can fınd our 2nd article translated: 
http://www.enduristan.com/en/you-ride/travelers-in-enduristan/321-offroad/how-could-a-trip-start-better.html
Thanks Enduristan for your work!