Wednesday 16th October - South side psychling

I haven't posted for a while and that's for a few reasons. Mainly because I sent my iPad mini back with Lauren when she came to visit thinking that I wouldn't need it and I could write everything on my iPhone. But it's not quite the same and my thumbs are too fat. Like Homer Simpson I need a phone with extra large buttons. I also just realised I name-checked two apple devices in the same sentence.

Anyway, despite the length of time since my last post, I have been wanting to update you all. Ive decided to post them in a series - a trilogy, a quadrilogy or an epic opus depending on my creative juices. It will a bit of a highlights package of the best and least "thrilling" bits. Role VT...

So here it is: ISTANBUL - ANKARA. 500km. By me.

One day out of Istanbul and I'd only made 45km. The going was slow, I didn't really have the motivation and my bike felt heavy. The next morning, after waking up to find myself very much alone in a waste land, I took the decision to take my bike down to the coast and see if I could find a boat to take me over the Sea of Marmara. It's only about 50km across at this point so would be a short trip and in doing so ill be away from Istanbul and I could relax again. There's only so much A road a man on his own can take. 

So I arrived port side early in the morning with the sun already pricklingly hot. I soon found a sign to a ferry port. And the price of the fare? 60p. My bag of nuts from the kiosk cost more.

I always enjoy the ferry bits. It makes a change from pedalling and pedalling all day. This one was pretty basic with a cabin to sit in to drink tea and I was over the water to the other side in about 45 minutes. Enough time to charge my phone and fill my pockets with complementary sweets. 

The crossing was to a place called Topcular and on the other side, I think I was expecting a lovely empty coastal road. Annoyingly it seemed no different to the road i was on before. The same crumbling hard shoulder. The same dusty clouds kicked up by the lorries and I did ask myself whether it was worth the effort and sea crossing but I didn't have much time to dwell, just crack on as ever. Best not to think to hard in these situations. 

That day was a real low one. I was exhausted from seemingly little effort. I was just having a bad day and really crawling along. The bike just feels heavy and you want to stop all the time. As soon as you hit the slightest stretch which isn't pan flat or downhill you just want to throw your bike down and wait for a lift. These happen some days. Either you're not properly rested, you didn't eat enough the night before or you're body is just telling you it's had enough. I think I was just tired and also my brain wanted to be somewhere else. I frankly could not be arsed. The faceless grey towns didn't help to motivate me. The road was like military alley. Every 10 miles there was an army base with runtish soldiers wearing helmets falling over their eyes. Each one I passed I gave a little nod to get a reaction. They looked as painfully bored as I was but subtly I got a tip of the head back. I think we shared eachother's pain that day. 

Anyway, I had little idea of my best route to Ankara still so I just carried on east a bit hoping it would become apparent. At least the weather was nice. The day reached a new low later in the afternoon as I was caught short and forced to take care of business in some trees behind a football stadium. Sorry if this is too much but I feel you should know really what life is like living on the road. Glamorous it is not. 

So that night id made it away from Istanbul, I'd crossed a body of water, and was now very much in land. Probably only a modest 100km but it felt like more. I found a field near a town called Izmit to camp. It was dads birthday so went back to a Carrefour I passed earlier and sat and called him on Skype. Was nice to speak to him and with the rain pouring down outside I felt a long long way from home. As I sheltered inside my tent that night, the rain lashed down and the tent creaked in the wind. And little did I know where this downpour would lead me to over the coming days. 

Tuesday 15th October - leaving Istanbul

I left the big city today. I've actually forgotten what it's like to cycle and be on the road again. I'd spent 10 days in Istanbul, which was awesome, but I felt I was reaching stagnation, and I was beginning to get lethargic. You get used to the comfortable life and I could feel the muscle and strength that I had gained on my legs starting to disappear, not to mention the softening of flesh around the middle. If my mum was here she would be poking me in the belly, laughing and asking are you getting fat???..any psychoanalysts would have a field day. 

So the big day had arrived. During breakfast I was talking to two Danish and one Dutch guy who had been cycling to Istanbul and met on the way. The Dutch one filled me full of hope when he said he knew of a few English cyclists who had tried and failed several times to get an Iranian visa. He seemed keen to dissuade me. The Danes however suggested, rather than searching for a map, which doesn't really exist in sufficient detail for the whole of Turkey, that I download the CityMaps2Go App which is open source and allows you to download whole country maps and view them offline. So far it's been amazing and would definitely recommend it. However it does rinse the phone battery quite a lot. 

As always it took a while to get going, and countless people thought it hilarious to comment "still here?!"... Very good, yes.. However all morning I was confused because I swore I could hear mooing. Was it istanbul's less celebrated city farm?...no, it was the would-be victim of a brutal axe assault behind our hostel. I should add that it is Bayram in Turkey this week, a religious holiday where everyone buys a sheep, kills it with the family watching, and then eats it all week. Beats scrabble I guess. But this was a cow so maybe they'd run out of sheep. 

So I opened the window to have a look. Two men trying in vain to split a cow's head in two with a metre long axe. Thwack as steel met bone. Worryingly I could still hear mooing?...But this turned out to be the next in line. Of course, I know I sound like a pathetic westerner who's never seen dead animals before but it all felt a bit much as I was still digesting breakfast. 

The festival did mean the streets were eerily quiet and all shops were closed. The world's 2nd most populous city felt like a fishing village during a church service. Before I left I wanted to visit the home of the Golluoglu Baclava, the world's first Baclava shop just by Karikoy docks. Usually a queue snakes round the street but today if was empty so I bought a small selection and lacquered my insides with butter and sugar. They were very good, as was the Turkish coffee. 

It was the birthday of a friend, Lucy,  so my other friend Shah (who's helping sort my visa in Iran) cooked a meal. After munching this I was ready to go, making sure to take on extra as supplementary fuel. We took some group photos and with a heavy heart I left. They are a great bunch there and I hope to see them again.

The last supper in the hostel 

On board the boat to Kadikoy on the Asian side the night before. I forgot to mention, I bumped into German Chris again by accident. Our last photo together before he heads north to the Black Sea. 

Ready to roll. I will also be rocking the baby blue MS Trust colours from now on. Represent.

Goodbye Europe.

Hello Asia.

Turkish fever. 

I hopped on the boat over the bay to get to the Asian side and from there would follow the road out along the coast towards Izmit. It was Turkey vs Holland in football and the place was thronging with people. Usually pretty much everywhere you look in Turkey there are flags and pictures of Ataturk, the founder of the Turkish Republic. But being a religious holiday and match day (its difficult to say what is more important) it was awash with red and white. The match was being played in the Fenerbache stadium so all around it were inebriated Dutch fans clad in orange. I was very tempted to join them as an honorary Dutchman but I'd drunk enough of late and if I'd have stayed I would have never ever left. 

The cycle out of town wasn't as bad as I expected, following the coast in the direction south east along a cycle path. The sun was dipping low and it truly is a splendid coast line with huge statioanary vessels and locals enjoying the Autumn sun. However as the cycle path ended around 30km out of town I was forced back on the main road and I needed my wits about me. Finally the only option was to take the D100 highway, one of the main arteries out of the city. It was also dark now so I donned my hi-viz, illuminated, and took to the hard shoulder. Scary stuff even though i was starting to get used to it. I scanned feverishly for a place to camp, some grass, another thicket, anything, but this was Turkey and very arid. The only grass seemed to be owned by the military. I finally turned off the highway after 10km and followed some darkly lit roads. And there of course as if waiting fot me, bloody dogs. Big ones! One took chase and I pedaled hard. Remembering I now had a weapon I skillfully turned and blasted it in the face with pepper spray. In your face! Literally. He spluttered and stopped. 1-1 dogs. 

Boats bobbing in the harbour.

So at last after cycling aimlessly under moonlight I found a suitable, if not perfect patch of scratchy undergrowth and threw the tent up. It was nice to cook on the stove again and I retired early into my new sleeping bag. Which I should add is a beauty. Or maybe a little too hot? 

I only did about 45km today so tomorrow it's back on the road as I fear I'm still officially in Istanbul. I aim to be in Ankara to pick up my visa by Sunday so better get pedalling.

Sunday 14th October - How to survive in Istanbul

So my friend Lauren from home has been over to visit me this weekend in Istanbul. Pretty crazy, it took her 4 hours to fly. It took me nearly 2 months... That's just ridiculous. Anyway, I had much more leg room.

We've had a good time. Having spent over a week here now I feel pretty familiar with the place. I know all the major landmarks in the old town, the little back alleys and hidden gems over in the Beyoglu district where we are staying, and I know enough to put together a more than reasonable tour. Free of charge and at least 70% factually accurate. 

Inside the blue mosque. Lauren preparing to go into surgery. I had to laugh as she was the only person in there in this. I thought she looked like the lady from the Scottish Widows advert. 

Istanbul on a weekend is usually an absolute scrum. In fact on any day it's a scrum. You need to put your head down, ignore the people trying to flog you carpets and avoid the traffic and motorbikes driving through busy crowds. It is quite funny, I have realised that in general Turkish people are rarely taller than 6 foot. Apologies if that offends any Turkish people, but it does mean that I tower above everyone when I wander through the crowds. It gives you a good perspective on just how busy and chaotic everything is. Walking through the subway, it's an attack of the senses, all men shouting, toys making noises, music blaring from 20 different radios all conflicting with each other. It's not much better in the bazaars. Everyone who walks past a market stall is a potential customer and you are harried and sweet-talked into coming in. You just need to take the free bits of food they're offering, say no not for me after all thanks and walk off. By midday we'd sampled every type of Turkish delight, nougat, cheese, dried fruit, the lot. A cheap way to fill yourself up for sure.

Grand bazaar and spice market.

Cracking spread for less than a tenner. The white foamy solution on the right is Ayran, a yoghurt drink. Home-made no less. You could taste the udder.

One for the cat lovers. Everywhere you look there's one. Or 5. In every shop window, sat on every rug or cushion. They must love it here.

I was half expecting this to be quite an alcohol fuelled weekend, and I'm pleased it hasn't been if I'm honest. It's given us to time to catch up, and more opportunity to eat some truly excellent food. As I said previously, it's fishing season over here and you can pick up some excellent freshly caught grilled mackerel in a bun and deep fried anchovies for under a fiver. This was awesome, but the waiter did try to shaft us on the bill. That is the one thing about Istanbul, you always feel you are being ripped off. 9 times out of 10 it's probably true so you have to be wise to their tricks.

I think Lauren liked the place. It's certainly vibrant and full of energy. I really have a soft spot for the place. It's a mad mixture of old world charm and commerce with all the mod cons of a new cosmopolitan metropolis. We did witness a bit of the political tension that had been so prevalent in the news before I got here. Most nights there is some sort of police presence on the main shopping street, Isiklar. They're not your run of the mill bobby either, usually mean looking heavies wearing gas masks and baring sub machine guns. This is a bit unnerving while you are trying to do some shopping. Anyway, while we were grabbing some food one of the usually peaceful demonstrations started to get a bit more vocal and the crowd began chanting and punching their fists in the air. I'd watched on the tele the scenes in Taksim Square and I felt this could kick off. So before it got any worse, we did a runner as we didn't want to be stuck amongst all that. As an onlooker, the city seems to be at an uneasy Mexican standoff, police and protesters waiting for eachother to make the first move. All I can see is the government will crush any popular revolt any way they can.

Taksim square.

So this is nearly my last night in Istanbul. Lauren leaves tomorrow and I have to prep everything for the big push east. I got to saddle up them donkeys and visit the promised land. The folks sent out a big bag of winter clothes and a new sleeping bag so I'm sorted now I think. I also purchased a front Tubus pannier rack and some Ortlieb panniers to even up the weight distribution on my bike. This will help when climbing I'm told. Sadly what won't help is the innumerable chicken doners I've eaten in the last 8 days. Jeeeez, I'm going to struggle...

I'll send a little blog post before I leave but until then I need some kip. 

Lastly just a quick one, I just wanted to thank those who've donated recently to my JUSTGIVING sponsorship page. I don't want people to forget why I'm doing this amongst all the waffle on here. I have some MS Trust t shirts that I'm going to give an airing on here soon. Those who would like to add to my sponsorship can do so through this blog... Or at www.justgiving.com/ben-smith28. Please spare a few quid!

Right Cheerio, thanks, Ben x

Friday 11th October - Holed up in between two continents

I thought as it's been nearly a week since I last posted on here, it would be a good idea to fill you on what I've been to and my plans for the rest of the trip.

I had always set aside a week in Istanbul as a chance to recharge my batteries, both mentally and physically and plan my second half of the journey to India. In regards to the first part I can certainly say it's mission completed. The batteries have been throroughly connected to the mains supply and reinjected with 100% weapons-grade R&R. This is obviously relative as Istanbul is the 5th biggest tourist destination in the world and the second most populous city (I know, I was shocked too, but all hail the fountain of wiki-knowledge). A week ago, I commented on the delight and wonder of being woken up in a foreign land to the wailing call to prayer. Well after 3 nights on the bounce of being woken up at 5 this soon wore off and I was kindly given a pair of ear plugs. Apparently this was like a pin drop to the bellowous call of my own snoring which forced a couple of room mates to move out, not before smashing with a walking stick during the night. In my defence I did warn them.

The closest I could get to the Blue Mosque. Not respectfully dressed they said.

Another thing to note about Istanbul is the traffic and general din. Having lived here for a week I'm amazed I survived the cycle in to the city. Ignorance is bliss in my book so now the prospect of vacating the sprawling metropolis on Monday 14th is pretty daunting. Mark Beaumont, he of world record round the world cycling fame and inspiration for this trip commented in his book, "The Man who cycled the World", that exiting Istanbul was among the most terrifying thing he had to do. And he crossed the Australian Outback!

Istanbul though is an incredible city, as everyone knows spanning two continental plates between Europe and Aisa. The history, dating back to the Byzantine period makes it definitely the oldest place I've.visited. I thought the 13th century church in Little Marlow was impressive until I saw the Hagia Sophia dating back to 546AD! There is even Viking rune graffiti on one of the pillars. Now before anyone corrects me on my historical innacurary, I should say, I don't care. 

A highlight has been standing on the Galata Bridge at sunrise looking out across the Golden Horn and the Old City as it awakes. The fishermen finding a place on the bridge to dangle their lines in the water below. It is mating time for the anchovy population who flood up up the Bosphorous and other river whose name escapes me, so even amateurs are trying their luck with just bread as bait. I fancied a pop myself but wasn't able to hire one and didn't fancy purchasing and carrying a 12ft rod on the back of my bike. I also had poor success on a previous tour in France when trying to fish so just watched/annoyed the pros. Apparently fish don't like raw potato?! Who knew eh?

Wonky fisherman

I've also had a chance to catch up with some old (in a relative cycle touring sense) friends. Geo and Benjamin, my French amis who I lost on the way in, had found free accomodation in a friend's flat while I was paying for a room in a hostel (Neverland hostel), which I should add is very comfortable and relaxing if you are plan a stay you can't go wrong with this. Brekkie is spot on and the guests, some fleeting and some more permanent like myself are very cool. So while I was haemorrhaging funds, my pals were partying hard and experiencing the night life. I joined them for a couple of nights and reacquainted myself with the hangover. They also got a tattoo to remember their trip, it's called a Cat 4 tattoo and it's known in the cycling world, look it up if you don't know. I was very tempted myself but they were at the end of theirs and I was only half way through mine. Maybe in India where I hear you can paint your whole body like the Cistene Chapel for 20 Rupees. But sanitation is not the best. Maybe I'll stick to Henna.

Not actual leg but looks like this.

So my time in Istanbul wasn't all R&R, there was also a giant capital S thrown in there. STRESS. Now, until now I've left out any of the logistic, bureaucratic and essentially boring elements of cross-country cycling and that's obtaining visas. I needed a visa for Turkey (which I paid for on entry), Iran (which I applied for before I left), Pakistan (I didn't have) and India (successfully acquired through the consulate). 

For Iran I used a company called www.IranianVisa.com after a recommendation from the lonely Planet guide. Due to diplomatic breakdown between Iran and the UK, you had to apply through an agency who contacted the iranian Ministry of Foreign Affairs on your behalf and then supplied a confirmation number if successful, which you take to the Embassy in Istanbul with little fuss. Easy-Peasy I thought. So after two days on the road I got an email saying I was rejected by the Ministry (probably on the grounds of being British), I was pretty stuck. I called, emailed and cajoled the agency but no response. These guys are scammers in my opinion so stay clear. My next option was to reapply as I couldn't get a visa without the confirmation code. I got talking to an Iranian guy in my hostel who said he knew someone who could write me an invitation letter and contact the Ministry for the price of 15USD. So this is where I am currently, this is in process and I still leave on Monday with the view to picking up my visa from Ankara. It's a bit of a risk but one which I am confident will pay off. 

As for Pakistan, due to the unease in the region at the moment I took the decision before I left to cross it by train. Now to do this I need a transit visa costing £100, and which is notoriously difficult to get. Either that or cycle through with a police escort and get forced to sleep in prison blocks and police stations the whole way. I kid you not. 

So with all things going well I shall pick up my visa from Ankara next week, cross Turkey in around 18-20 days through Anatolia and reach the Iranian border by early November. I will then have a maximum of 30 days to cross Iran, heading to the south coast at Bander Abbas, where I plan to board a Dhow boat across the Persian Gulf to Dubai and from there scour the wharf for a ship that will take me to Mumbai. 

This next part then will be around 5,000km of cycling across the mountains and in the winter so it's going to be a challenge but one which im excited about. The real journey starts here!!!

So I hope you can join me for the next part in reaching India by Christmas Day.

Cheers,

Ben

P.s. A quick bit of births, deaths and marriages... I completely forgot to wish Wella Francis a happy birthday on 5th so here you are Wella! And congrats to Ant and Roz on their wedding day last Saturday. Sorry I couldn't be there..

LATERSSSSSSSSSS XXXXX

S-s-selfie. Check the beard yoooo

The road to Istanbul - Saturday 5th October

4,100km on the clock, Bulgaria done and Europe in my rear view mirror, my longest cycling day yet and some spectacular scenery. This has been a great 5 days in the saddle. 

I am now on the fringes of Europe. The European customs and sights to which I had now become so used to were being diluted by the presence of Asia on the horizon. Instead of the creaking grunt of agricultural traffic each morning I am now woken by the call to prayer at 6am wailing from the minarets, sparking a dawn chorus from the dogs. It's a strange feeling to have crossed a continent as for the one part I am out of the safety zone, where I would often cross fellow cyclists on a journey east, but it's also incredibly exciting as the next chapter of my journey will be for the most part alone and through some of the most beautiful and alien landscapes I will ever encounter. Before, this will have filled me full of trepidation but instead I'm eager to experience the new foreign lands. Providing I have the right kit. I am looking forward to a parcel with warm weather gear and a new sleeping bag, like a Red Cross aid parcel, but sent by my parents.

I had a bit of a turning point in my tent just outside of Plovdiv 5 days ago. I realised that to reach India I would have to rely on my inner strength rather than fall back on the safety and security of others. Funnily enough it was my good old survival guide that taught me this. Something I already knew but it was hard to grasp. In many ways I've pulled the safety blanket away but it will be better like this I think. That night I went to bed much more positive and confident I would do it.

The very next day I met 2 French guys in the town who were heading to Istanbul. Ben and Geoffrey (Geo) were very cool and I instantly connected with them. Like me, Ben had left his job working for a large company in Paris and was around the same age. Geo was 22 and very easy going. Both liked to drink beer and smoked incessantly. They embodied the amateur ethic that I instilled within me. We rode together that day along the D100 from Plovdiv to Haskovo. Even though we were now on a smaller road the traffic was even heavier and where as before on the highway I had a hard shoulder for safety, now I shared the gutter with articulated lorries that nearly blew you off your bike. The hills rolled up and down and we reached Haskovo after around 100km. It was harvest time for butternut squash and mounds of these orange orbs lined the streets. I am a huge fan of squashes but they were all suffering from elephantitis and I couldn't find a place to put it on my bike. 

Ben, Geoffrey, Christophe, and moi. All cool guys. Note the 3rd from left on a carbon racer...needless to say he was on a different kind of trip and his bike weighed less than my tent.

We continued out towards the border the next day and the road again was up and down but manageable. It was particularly arid and the skyline was hazy in front of us. We passed men on horse drawn carts and a fair few derelict looking former Soviet appartment buildings.

Typically French. Far too cool for me

This guy was keen to send us down a motorway. But he had a sweet ride.

Lada that's seen better days.

Ottoman bridge just before the Turkish border

So we arrived at the border to Turkey with little effort. Immediately through the barriers you could see a mosque on the horizon. I could also see a biblical storm gathering so once I'd paid 40 Turkish lira for my visa (around 16€) we were ready to brace the cold winds and rain. We arrived into the border town of Edirne just before it got dark and checked into a small pansiyon (cheap hotel). We were welcomed with some Cay (Turkish tea) and enjoyed the warmth. The French guys had a mix of technical kit and high street fashion so got pretty wet. That night we ate and drank quite a lot ending up in a bar sat with locals, nobody understanding each other and I'm not sure who was more drunk, them or us. We all danced Turkish style and eventually left wondering what the hell just happened?... 

Boo yea! A surprisingly hassle free border affair. 

The Lord hath spoken. 

The old man in the middle was horizontal on the floor soon after this. One too many rakias.

We stayed in Edirne the next day and visited a hamam, which essentially involved lying in a loin cloth on a hot slab sweating a bit. In fact quite a lot by the end. We all had a bit of a snooze and a snore and chilled outside afterwards swaddled in towels. We visitied some incredible mosques and that night we were invited to dinner with two local English students. They took us to eat the local delicacy, deep fried liver with lots of chilli. I enjoyed it and ate a cart load, but the others didn't, so I ate theirs. Naturally. This is probably why I've only lost a kilo on my trip so far..

Mosque in Edirne.

When in Rome...

This next day we were on the road by 7am and cycled against the biting Siberian wind up and down main roads. My legs were fried and we sheltered in a service station and drank cay. All along the road there were more roads being built or widened. It seems that the government is rapidly expending the road network and I guess it provided many jobs. It allowed us pretty smooth riding if very hilly. As a 3 we would take it in turns at the front in no real order as one of us would speed off with a burst of energy and be overtaken when you start to flag. On the downhills and flats I creamed it like a time-trialist perhaps due to my extra ballast, but on the hills French fancies scuttled up so it was a constant cat and mouse. I plugged into some hard house after lunch and we burned through the cournryside. All along the route there were really toxic smelling chemical plants with slums next door. You had to cover your mouth as it tasted like inhaling paint thinner. There was quite a fair amount of poverty visible and it seemed most earned a "living" from collecting plastic and rubbish. It looked like a tough  and dirty life and I didn't feel comfortable photographing it.

Our route was longer and took us south towards Silviri and on to the Mediterranean Sea. I felt exhilarated as I hadn't seen the deep blue since Belgium six weeks ago and it was crazy to think I'd gotten there by bicycle alone. So there it was that we notched up 170km in a single day and our legs burned so we filled up on meat and beer and went to bed in a flea infested hotel. The worst I'd ever stayed in. But I'd have to get used to this I think for the east of Turkey.

Highway to hell

First sight of the Med. She looked beautiful.

Mais non, c'est la bas mon pote!

Our final day before Istanbul was meant to be a stroll into town but I guess entering a city of over 16m people, it was never going to be easy. The roads were carnage and the diesel trucks filled your lungs with noxious fumes. I think my years of riding in London paid off here and I loved nipping in and out, generally causing offence to the other drivers but you need to be bold out here! As the mouth to the Bospherous became visible around the bend of the coast it was massively exciting. All around the sea a huge fleet of tankers were anchored waiting for their turn to enter the port. It looked like the siege of Troy and was pretty impressive. You really got the impression of the scale of the place. So far my experiences of Istanbul is that it teams with people. I can't wait to explore it further...

Shopping bag wind stoppers. A classic invention!

Empty tower blocks on the way into Istanbul.

The scrum begins...

The bridge over the Bospherous. East meets West.

My plan is to spend about a week here until 14th to pick up my Iranian visa then ill be off, solo, to conquer the Asian plains. I'm also going off the social media radar posts may be fleeting. I hope to catch up with you though along the way. All I can say is I feel much safer now with this little bad boy!

Laters