Bikexit

4000km bike ride across Europe. Created and edited on a phone in a tent.

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Istanbul

Istanbul is a city of contradiction. Brutalist concrete high rise is juxtaposed against ancient Ottoman architecture, raki is sold in shops streets away from the Blue Mosque, modern high streets with exclusive western brands are flanked by armoured trucks with water cannons, high speed internet is beamed to modern smart phones only to be selectively censored, speakers blast the call to prayer during the daylight hours and pulsing techno music long after dark.

It’s jarring and takes a while to get your head around, East say hello to West, you don’t know each other, but remember Abraham, you both knew him at some point. Though like the strait that divides the city, the different cultures are yet to really combine, like oil and water, when it works you get the odd glint of a rainbow of colour that would be otherwise unseen.

Still it is fascinating and utterly intoxicating. I have been suffering from withdrawal ever since I left.

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more Istanbul

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Fast food

Luckily the meatball restaurant in Tekirdag I had found online was shut by the time I rolled up, hungry, I headed for the high street...

First up, Çiğ köfte which I later learnt means raw meat, although the government has banned small shops from selling meat uncooked, so now the filling is generally made from a mix of nuts and spice. This is served with coriander, lemon and a sweet soy like sauce, they are insanely tasty and I ended up eating a few, the owner rewarded my loyalty with a free satsuma as I left.

Next to a soup place. The Turkish generally have four soups, Mercimek, the national soup, essentially spiced lentil, chicken noodle, tripe and sheep skull soup. Listed in order of hunger required to eat.

I was starting to feel full at this point, but look at the outfits! Turkish pizza; imagine a flat kebab done in a pizza oven and you wont be far off.

Desert was a cake served with a sweet sesame sauce that I don’t know the name of, but Kunefe, a round baked cheese sweet remains the one to beat.

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Turkish border

Fully adapted to the Greek way of life, we arrived at the Turkish border way behind schedule. As we approached it was already getting dark, we hadn’t bothered with trite formalities like getting a visa or even thought about carrying money to pay for one and had no idea where we would be sleeping that night, what could go wrong?

After being rapidly rebuffed by the customs official at the gate we were directed towards the foyer of the adjacent building, stepping inside we entered a room full of men all holding aloft papers and pushing towards a small window offering the odd glimpse of a lone officer sitting at a desk surrounded by ring binders. After waiting at the back for what seemed like forever, we eventually gave in to join the scrum, sliding slowly towards the front and finally appearing at the window to request a visa, only to be told that we could only pay for it in US dollars. From England, trying to get into Turkey, in Europe, but of course, US dollars, total sense. After arguing for a while another official came out who spoke great English and allowed us to use his office. So after filling in the online visa form on my phone and paying online we printed out two pieces of paper allowing us to enter Turkey!

We cycled off into the cold night, past multiple pairs of guards framed by big dogs and automatic weapons, the hard shoulder of the large modern dual carriageway only lit by our small bike lights, white spot to the front, flashing red to the rear.

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At first these farm workers cheered as they passed us, then they started throwing vegetables laughing, I gave chase on the bike and they started screaming as I approached closer, this was their reaction when they realised all I wanted was a picture. Which I think is my favourite of the trip.

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A night spent at an abandoned thermal spa resort turned hippie commune. Hidden paradise in the woods.

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Greek generosity

After hearing stories from other cyclists about the generosity of strangers on the road, I was a little disappointed to not have any of my own, that was until I arrived in Greece. Everywhere I went shop owners would stop me from paying, tabs were picked up in restaurants and families took me in to their homes and plied me with brandy and food. These are just a few of those wonderful people. Thank you so much, you made my time in Greece truly special!

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Greece - Thessaloniki, the coast and dogs, lots of dogs.

While there are undoubtedly some winners from the EU project, Greece has not fared so well, currently suffering a lingering hangover from the Euro party. As is so often the case with capitalism, those at the top of society, who were drinking the Ouzo, are not the ones dealing with the headache or clearing up the mess. Although down, Greece is definitely not out and you get the sense the tide may be starting to turn. I hope so.

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Macedonia - Lake Ohrid

I didn’t spend enough time in Macedonia to get to know much about the country, apart from a few nights in Ohrid next to the lake of the same name, which puts on quite a show come sundown.

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Light at the start of the tunnel

Feeling at perhaps my lowest, motivation to keep going waning, perpetual tiredness unabated by sleeping-in or days off the bike, I cycled down the new highway east out of Tirana, towards the tunnel through the mountain, to avoid the old 20km road over it. As I approached an official came running towards me waving and shouting, it quickly became clear that he didn’t want me cycling through his gleaming new 2 km shortcut. Pretending I hadn’t seen the multiple no-bike signs en-route and after some insistence from me that i would, in fact, be fine, this was not my first rodeo after all, he finally signalled to me to wait while speaking on a mobile. I sat on the bike glad of the excuse to do nothing and wondered how far I would get if I made a dash for it, or whether a bribe consisting mainly of loose change would be appropriate.  A few minutes later a truck pulled up abruptly and a man jumped out, walked to the back to release the rear door and indicated for me to put my bike inside. Realising what he was offering, I thought for a second then turned, thanked them as best I could and gestured that I was going to take the mountain road after all.

As I headed off, the driver looked at me as if I was insane and asked “why?” I looked back but didn’t really have an answer; there was no real reason, there were no rules, no one would know or probably care, a free ride in a truck may even have been fun.  Whatever the reason for my sub-conscious decision -machismo-ism, masochism, momentary madness - even after being attacked by yet another dog halfway up one of the hardest 10 km climbs on my entire route, I suddenly felt better than I had in weeks. Turning down that lift was the first time I really believed that I could make the final 1000 miles and after the spectacular decent down the other side, the aches and tiredness were still there, but they seemed suddenly more distant, controllable, the incessant white noise now coloured by a new vitality.  As the cliché goes our minds are a beautiful servant but a dangerous master - our limits and how we experience the world truly are for us to define.

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New sunnies!

So far I have lost:

one bike light, one t shirt, one tooth brush and tube of toothpaste and now a pair of sunglasses.

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Tirana

A relatively modern capital with a checkered past, maybe not beautiful by western ideals and still only has running water for a few hours a day, but since the mayor, Edi Rama, painted the city different pastel shades, it is colourful in all senses of the word and has a raw energy and vibrancy that gets under your skin, making it a hard place to forget.

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Albania

When traveling through the Schengen area in Central Europe, the so called soft borders are barely noticeable, a small sign the only indication that you have passed into another country.

Even without the queue for border control and passport check, you really know when you arrive in Albania. Never part of Yugoslavia and once one of the strictest communist regimes in history, Albania feels like you have stepped in to a different continent. Enjoying their new freedoms as part of the West, the kids shout “hello”, the men speed past in their gleaming Mercedes and the infrastructure really feels like you have entered one of the poorest countries in Europe. It’s brash and loud wants to be heard.

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Montenegro - Kotor and the coast

Montenegro - Kotor and the coast

The decent into Kotor is breathtaking and exhilarating, miles of switchbacks bracketing huge barrierless cliff edges.

The coast of Montenegro is now definitely on the tourist trail, Kotor hosting two cruise ships a day. The coastline is slowing being destroyed by the vast amounts of concrete used to construct endless hotels and apartments; Budva maybe the best example of how not to develop an otherwise magnificent area.

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Mordor + Scotland x sun = Montenegro

Two tough days in the saddle, the first 66 miles long and over 6000 feet of climbing. The roads and scenery are truly epic and my tiny phone camera can in no way capture the scale and beauty of the place.

My route follows the M18 which has to be one of the most scenic roads in Europe, if not the world - highly recommended!!

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Let’s talk about Bosnia

Like most people before going to Bosnia I associated it only with war, land mines, poor infrastructure and crime. I honestly thought I was a little crazy to be cycling through the place.

Sarajevo found infamy through conflict, the longest siege of a capital city in history which peaked when three thousand shells were directed towards it in a single day. Shells don’t discriminate, they are designed to decimate, anything and everything in their path, tearing apart the city for nearly 4 brutal years.

Through such adversity people have to stick together to survive, this community spirit lives on; the people are the most welcoming, friendly and party the hardest of anyone I met in Europe. Maybe most surprising is how good the food is, eating UN rations for 46 months will undoubtedly lead to an appreciation for good quality fresh food.

Bosnia has not left all its issues behind, it still has 60% youth unemployment, has unmistakeable scars of war and the infrastructure still has a way to go before it draws level with Western Europe.

Despite, or maybe because of this, Bosnia was by far my favourite country to travel through and the one that was hardest to leave.

Go to Bosnia before word gets out, fall in love with the people, enjoy its unique architecture and devour the food. It is truly an amazing place that can deliver a new perspective and appreciation for our place in the world.

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Bed bugs