Hero to Zero

It's for sure that I was getting far too comfy in Ankara at Ozhans and Ozges home. I was looked after very well, fed and wined. Ozhan helped me fix my indicators and find me some waterproof pants and jacket. We were told that the local pizza delivery boys use the same suits so if it's good enough for them it would certainly be good enough for me. On the 2nd day my friend Verity told me that she had a Turkish wildlife TV friend that worked for the equivalent of the BBC. Turns out she lives in Ankara so I thought it would be rude not to pay a visit. I was treated to dinner with Ece (pronounced Ajay I think) and her TV presenter friend and even some Beer and red wine. It is easy to like Ankara or any place when you meet such nice people. When it came time to leave it was a bit tough for I was warm and comfortable, but it was time to press on westwards. I waved Ozhan and Ozge goodbye and of I went (after a fair bit of Ozhan pushing to get the bike started). I made good time, only 7hrs to get to Istanbul. As I approached the size of this city became evident. The coastal road leading to the West side was attracting more and more truck and transport traffic to the oversized industrial plants and parks on the city outskirts. I was lucky that the part of Istanbul I was heading for was on the Asian side and not the European side for it was coming up to rush hr. See, Istanbul is the only city in the world to be build and spread over two continents. Across the river is the European side. It's not hard to imagine the significance of such a city that is the historical link between east and west. I found the area where I was going quite easily and waited in a local cafe for a couple of hrs while my host finished work and came and collect me. My German friend Deitmar is a member of what's called "The Hospitality Club" an internet network of open minded, hospitable people who open their homes to visitors from different countries to stay instead of hotels. If you're a member of this club you get to meet the locals and experience a different kind of town or city than just the major tourist attractions and soulless hotel rooms. This is exactly what I like best, meeting people is the best way to understand and experience the country you are fortunate enough to be in. No tour buses and hotels for me. Rayhan met me around 7pm after work. A warm smile and fluent English was just what i needed. Dietmar was out in the city and joined us back in the flat about an hour later with Rayhans flat mate. Rayhan was the perfect host, charming, smart, educated, interesting and pretty. A couple of days chilling with good company and conversation was welcomed. It's true that I did not really see the craziness and excitement of Istanbul. I only ventured out to the ferry port once to collect my euro-green-card insurance from Ozhans friends. I had to get it Fed-Ex'd to someone in Turkey and this worked out really well for me. I wished I could have stayed longer and seen more of Istanbul, but the weather was not on our side and also we were going to try and make the west Greece coast to catch the ferry to Venice in just 2 days if it did not rain too much. The first day we made it across Istanbul to the European side in good time before the rush and pressed on to the Greek boarder before the rain started. From before I already had the feeling that I was getting to Europe. The Turkish army waved and smiled, the Greeks looked miserable. It was evident by the amount of highway construction and road tunneling that being a member of the EU had done a lot for infrastructure but also perhaps had brought the Greeks more discontentment like their Union brothers. The people smiled less and were less interested and impressed by the "foreigners". The rain continued for most of the day but we rode on and on and on, making almost 400k, riding 2hrs in the dark. We stopped exhausted in a coffee/bar and warmed up and I wrung out the water from my socks in the washroom sink. We asked if we could sleep in the back room. Unfortunately, this was a no-go but the owner did let us sleep around the side under a small roof that kept the rain off. Putting wet socks on the next day was not one of the highlights of the tour so far. In the morning as we packed up a little old Greek lady was surprised to find that we were sleeping rough in the corner, bur she did not make us tea. I was amazed and even impressed with myself that we managed to make it to Igoumenitsa the next day before dark. The roads winding down the mountains would be excellent to drive in the summer, but to be honest not much is great to drive in the cold and rain of winter. On arriving in Igoumenitsa I did some work on my bike, added in new 2-stroke oil and found what cost about 130Rs in India (1.50p) was costing 18euro in Greece and it would be even more expensive in Italy, so we filled up with Petrol before leaving. After getting ferry tickets for the next morning and having a good feed we drove back from the town to find somewhere to sleep. We were both short of cash and 50 euro a night in a hotel was not really an option. Now I was learning the real hardcore traveler techniques from Dietmar who had been on the road on his bike over Africa and Asia for the past two years. I spotted a Lidal supermarket and found that the trolley bay would make an ideal spot for the night. We settled down. I found that sleeping on hard floors was the perfect remedy for the pain in my lower back caused by the continues riding. The staff started to arrive about 6am and hardly noticed, they did not appear to mind for when they opened we were their first customers as we stocked up on goodies for the 23hr ferry ride to Venice. The sea was calm and the ride really not interesting enough to write much about. Arriving in Venice at sunrise was not to bad, seeing the city from high above the top deck of the ferry was worth a picture or two.
Within 30mins of arriving we were back on the road. Dietmar headed west to Milano and then hopefully into Switzerland to see his girlfriend before ending his journey in Germany. Once again I had met a good friend, someone I'm sure I'll even send an email once every few years. Seriously though we had experienced the harsher side of overland motorbiking together and survived. We discussed from world politics, to the education system in Pakistan as well as much more irrelevant topics. As he headed west I was heading north then east to make my way over the Austrian Alps to see my best mate Stevo in Salzburg. Salzburg was to be my first taste of familiarity and home. To charge in on my horse triumphantly was the idea, a rehearsal for when I made it from Hull to Saddleworth for that cup of tea with my mum. However, it was not to be. Some 20km south of the Austrian boarder firestarter had different ideas. She started to play up and finally cut out. I changed the plug but it was hard with numb fingers. I got her going again and with the help of a Bulgarian truck driver got it bump started. This extra 100 metres was to be her final ride. Her engine ceased up and she would not go any further. Either the 2 stroke oil pipe was blocked or I had simply rode her too hard for too long on too many days. But what to do? I managed to get a pickup recovery truck to take me to the nearest Italian town where the mechanic confirmed my fears, firestarter was to be retired. Luckily for me I was only 250km short of Salzburg and with some convincing that I was not joking Stevo (this is where years and years of playing tricks and winding people up can bite you in the arse) came and collected me in his dads van. Boy was I glad to see him driving into the industrial estate. I had not slept in a hotel since Tehran and hardly eaten anything for ages. We embraced warmly (hetro style of course), I'd not seen my old pal for almost a year and a half and he'd come across the Alps a distance. Similar to picking someone up from Leicester when you live in Manchester. I called in no small favor of my friend, but an important one. I'm sure I will be reminded of his heroic efforts for years to come, but without him I'd have made it for sure, but it would have been very painful and very expensive and taken me days to organise. We got my bike in the back of the van after taking the wing mirrors off and off we went. We had a lot to catch up on, though we'd been in touch the whole time on messenger or email. We drove up into the Alps and the temperature dropped, well it was 9pm. Perhaps my protective fairies had sacrificed the life of firstarter to prevent a stupid English man from attempting to ride over the Alps in winter. Well I had already survived the Turkish mountains, so why not the Austrian ones? I guess some people never learn.


After riding 15,000Km over nearly 3 months I only had 4-5days riding left to get through Austria-Germany and Holland, but it was not to be. Part of me is disappointed and part of me relieved. I was in the warmth of the car and soon to be in Stevos flat and finally meet his girl friend. It started to dawn on me that this is it. The ride is over no more cold days and nights, then there were only a few left. I took comfort in knowing that the few left were going to be perhaps the most boring. Europe is all a bit too familiar and safe to really tickle my fancy. Sadly though, if I fly back to London I'll not be passing through Stuttgart to see Katherine and Martin my very first friends from Bangalore. Also no visit to Amsterdam to see Pughe, Sophie and Roberta, my old GL buddies. Such sacrifices have to be made. I know it's not quite the same as riding all the way home but I honestly don't give a shit. I know how tough this has been and also how rewarding its been, especially on such a little bike. I have had many unforgettable experiences many of which I have told you all about in my blog and a thousand more smaller ones that collectively were the stepping stones that appeared below my feat to keep me moving on. I'm actually quite glad and lucky I broke down so close to a mate rather than in the Baluchistan desert. As I moved westwards the Hero and movie star factor that has been somehow grafted on me when I arrived in India had been slowly waring off. People are less and less impressed with overland biking and think it's frankly a bit stupid as I got into Euroland. In India, Nepal, Pakistan, and Iran and to some extent I was certainly treated like a movie star, instant fame and my picture will be hanging over many a mantle piece as their pink friend. However, obscurity is calling. How will I feel, when I have wanted to be invisible at times, when it finally arrives. The airport controls at Stanstead, the dull sad unfriendly faces. Then again I am a different person than when I left. I might not be quite enlightened, or have found eternal piece, but I certainly am much happier and richer for this experience. The only questions now are "what next?" Work? Marriage? Babies? 650cc Honda Trans-Alps, shipped to Buenos Aires for my Argentinean tour?
So for now I chill, wash my clothes, eat and put some weight back on and try and arrange what to do with my bike until Saturday comes when we will be hitting the slopes and getting some serious snowboarding in. I think when I finally get home to my mum and dads I'll be needing something to keep my busy.
With the time I might actually get around to getting a motorbike license.