A day in the life

I actually wrote a copy of this entry two days ago and tried positing it yesterday morning but for some reason it didn't go up. I'll hopefully repeat the spirit of it in this rendition.

Basically, I've been posting little thoughts about what's been rumbling through my head on any given day with precious little about the bike and not much more about what's happening on a day to day basis, partly because the bike has been perfect so far. There was a lot that happened a couple of days ago and I thought it would be a good example day to write down progress from. So here's a posting about Sunday.

The day started out well, I had a good breakfast outside of the hotel. Soaking in the fantastic view of the mountains I enjoyed the eggs, olives, cheese, tomatoes and cherries. Chilling over my last chai for the morning I made it out toward the main road at the bottom of the hill with the fuel light blinking at me. It was fine as I knew that I had enough to get me back the way toward Khata.

By the time I got to the main road I guessed I had plenty of fuel to get myself moving on toward Tatvan, my destination for the day, and so I moved on. After a few miles there was a petrol station and as I pulled in it became obvious that they hadn't finished building it. Not to worry, still fuel left.

After another ten minutes I rounded a corner only to find the road go into water. Following the building of the Ataturk dam this part of the road was flooded so now there was a boat. I had arrived with good timing, the last vehicle there was being driven on and there was enough space left at the end for my bike. I drove on and tried my best pigeon German to find out how long the ferry took. The couple in a camper van who I asked had no idea about the boat either and we chatted about holidays over the 20 minute trip before setting off into the distance at the far end.

The next reasonably large town came before long and I stopped off to get fuel. As is quite often the case there were four guys who came over to fuel up the bike and we had a good long wavy arm blether about the trip, where I had come from and where I was going off to.

The roads were pretty typical for my experience of Turkey all through the day. Some points were really interesting two lane roads with twisty bits, much of it though was fairly long straight sections of dual carriageways. These were made a little more interesting by the fact that so many sections of them are still under some stage of construction meaning that I often had to swap sides or take a spell at riding through gravel.

I started to get a little hungry and as I passed through some small towns I didn't see much that grabbed me. There came a point that I decided I was going to stop regardless and on the edge of town there was a petrol station with a restaurant beside. Pulling up outside it became obvious that the place was still under construction but it was too late. I'd been spotted. The Turkish are incredibly friendly and interested in what's happening and I got shouted inside. Again there was some wavy armed banter with the guys and after a short while I left them to it.

Shortly after this I stopped off at the next town and had some ice cream and cold water because this was all I fancied, time was passing on and I wasn't too far from my destination and it was very warm. The bike display was showing 38C most of the day and hit a peak of 39.5C. This time it was the turn of the children to come and keep me company. Getting back on the bike I saw that the chain was very tight. Something to keep an eye on.

Moving on toward Tatvan I came up over some fairly high points in the road and again the fuel light flashed up. There was plenty of fuel left but on one of the more downhill sections the bike stalled on me, no stuttering, no warning, just stalled. It started again within a few moments but spooked me a little. As a repeat it happened again on the way into Tatvan just before I got to a fuel station. The dashboard still showed some distance left for me and I know that there's still 2 litres of fuel left after I get to --- indicated so I put the stalling down to the downhill sections and will keep an eye on it too.

Tatvan itself isn't much to look at although it's in a fantastic location at the south side of lake Van. Checking the guidebook I had with me a van stopped and I had a brief chat with it's passenger before some children turned up. The town of Van I think seems like it might be a better proposition and I ride off along the south shore, mixing it between lakeside and up into some higher mountain passes, absolutely beautiful.

Coming along the shore into Van it was obvious that the area was very popular with the locals swimming and chilling. None of the camp sites appealed to me as I drive past and nothing in Van grabbed me either. It was just after 6pm by now and I drive out of town determined to stop at the next place whether its a campsite or an hotel. It never comes.

I know the road I'm planning to take the next day up toward Kars and I pull off onto this road, taking a right into a town that looks on the map that it will be a reasonable size enough for a hotel. The fuel light is back on, it's getting dull now and as I pull up the headlight nearly falls out...

Before long one of the locals turns up who can speak English. We have a chat, I find out I'll have to backtrack toward the lake and keep going round while others are trying to find a way to secure the light. A couple of glasses of tea later I had managed to keep about ten kids and ten adults entertained and I drove off into almost darkness to take the left turn back to the lake.

In the darkness I had to keep stopping from time to time to get the light back in place and it became fairly obvious fairly quickly that I somehow had gone the wrong direction. I pull to one side, check the map in the light from the bike and marvel at how bright the stars are. Turns out that I'm on the right track for what I had planned for the next day and I'll hopefully get to a petrol station before too long though I'm not holding my breath.

Often on the outskirts of Turkish towns there's a jandarma (sort of military police) post. These usually have a stop sign at the side of a checkpoint and everyone tends to drive straight past. On this occasion I drive past and can see a row of cones across the road, a dark figure and he is holding a flashlight low. I stop, thinking this could be a pain but I just get a strange look and am waved on. As I drive off I remember I'm next to some locals and ask about where I might find a hotel. I try and get the idea across only for the soldier to ask if I speak German. We then have a brief chat about where the next hotel is and I think to myself how lucky I was to have been taught some German at school.

Crossing over what I think is a mountain pass Im confident that as long as the bike doesn't stall again I'll make it to the next town with some fuel left in the bike. At this point as I come downhill I see four lights come towards me. I know that this road is wide enough for the oncoming truck, the passing car and me as long as I hold right but it doesn't stop me muttering away to myself. It's just as I'm slowing down a little that the car driver spots me, obviously gets a fright and screeches to a near halt with a huge blast on the trucks air horn. Keeps you awake.

Before long Im in Dogubayasit, see a sign for a hotel and start to come alongside it. I drive slowly past for a good view and get shouted into a fuel station, why not, Im down to 7 indicated miles and it will save me tomorrow.

I pull up alongside a pump and greet the three guys who come to help. Leaving them to it to look at the next door hotel I hear a commotion behind me. Turning around I see a fountain of petrol, turns out that the joint between the hose and the pistol grip on the pump have split a little. The next fifteen minutes keep me entertained watching them near destroy another pump to get enough bits to make the pump my bike is beside work.

Once fuelled up I point to the bodged headlight and then sup a glass of tea as they try to bodge it further. One cable tie and another bolt later and Im good to go. On supping another glass of tea they point out another hotel across the road and motion that I should go there instead. I do so and spend the night in the Golden Hill Hotel, having a great view of Mount Ararat from the rooftop breakfast room.

The next day I make it to Kars over an even split of some of the worst roads I've yet seen and by far the best road up alongside firstly the Iranian and then Armenian borders. And so here I am, I'm going to check everything on the bike is tight, make sure that the chain is behaving itself despite appearing fine yesterday and check the headlight bodge after I failed to find some half decent bolts yesterday.

There will be time to get another wander round town, get up to an old castle for a wander around and finish repacking the panniers before making my way toward Georgia tomorrow. Turkey has been great, and Ill be back someday but there's a sense of anticipation about another new country.

Location:Kars, Turkey