The idea came from a y night with my mate Steptoe, something about riding down to Asia and back through the new Eastern European countries would be a laugh. The planning had been minimal, the channel tunnel crossing and the ferry across the Adriatic had been booked plus the first nights hotel in Milan. Apart from that we didn’t have anything else arranged.

In fact we weren’t even sure who would be turning up due to home commitments. As it was twelve of us turned up to ride to Turkey and back over Easter.

In roughly alphabetical order……

Blowzorn, Paul or Special Uncle Alan, call him anything really, we did.


Bsogri, Brian. Nice bloke from Sunderland, couldn’t understand a word he said.


Darkhorse Dave, biker by day, male model by night.


Floyd, Mike, our token Scotsman.


James Burton, the trips facial cleansing advisor.


Novice, Tom. His forum name needs changing; he’s far from being a novice anymore.


Number 6, Andy. A last minute entry having decided to come the day before we left.


Popeye, Alan. Never saw him eat spinach once although he claimed to of had his first doner kebab while we were away.


Shapeshifter, Rob. Later to be renamed Shitshifter for his prolific toilet usage.


Shep also known as Shep, but we just called him Shep.


Wapping, Richard. Our Tour Dad. When we stood about smoking and chatting, he was running about sorting hotels and ferry tickets.


And me, I was only there for the .


So that was the Turkey Trot entrants, we had a destination and various credits cards so what could possibly go wrong.

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Dolomites 05 Morocco 06 Scotland 06 Morocco 07 LE to JOG 07 Turkey 08 Morocco 08 Kesh My Arse 09 GOTC 09 France/Spain 09

Day One, Wednesday, 199 miles. Nottingham to Folkestone.

I left home mid afternoon heading for Folkestone but had to do a stop off at Devitts Insurance offices in Romford. The incompetent brainless droids had taken £26 off me a month earlier to issue me with a green card that gave me fully comp cover in all the countries we planned to ride through but failed to post it to me. It actually turned up two days after we’d left.

Even when assured it would be waiting for me on reception it still took the Muppets three quarters of an hour to locate it. They won’t be getting my renewal next year.

We all met up at the Premier Lodge near the Tunnel apart from Wapping and Darkhorse Dave who were to meet us at the Tunnel in the morning. We dined on mediocre food and talked to a 65 year old Goldwing rider on his way to a “Wing Ding” in Belgium. Not a very exciting day but the trip really hadn’t started yet.



Day Two, Thursday, 689 miles, Folkestone to Milan.

Up early and under the tunnel then onto the French Autoroutes. Easy miles and miles and miles of motorway driving. We generally stopped around the 200 mile mark to fill up and have a drink.


Into Switzerland and it got colder as we entered the Alps with snow at the side of the road. The traffic was busy heading into the Gotthard Tunnel and while filtering I managed to leave a lasting momento of my travels down the side of a VW Golf, the driver gestured for me to pull over but it seemed to be more trouble than it was worth and I carried on.

30 miles later, in the dark I saw flashing blue lights and was pulled onto the hard shoulder by two very polite Swiss traffic cops, they pulled Blowzorn earlier then realised they had the wrong bike. They explained that a VW Golf driver wanted a word with me and we were to wait for him.

We waited for twenty minutes and chatted about bikes, one of them owned a R100RT and toured on it. He was impressed with my Zumo. To say the Italian Golf driver was a little perturbed when he eventually turned up would be an understatement. The cops had to assure him I would be fined, the bike owning cop told me that this wouldn’t be the case but it seemed the only way to shut the “silly Italian man” up. We swapped details but I can’t see me getting a Christmas card off him. This feck about put me an hour behind the rest and I rolled into Milan at 10pm, hungry and ready for a .


Day Three, Friday, 272 miles, Milan to Ancona

We needed to be at the Port of Ancona around three to pick the tickets up and board the ferry to Greece. The Italian motorways were manic and at one point they came to a stand still. I saw a turn off for Rimini and took it as I’d lost the rest and thought the coast road would be a better option. If you’re ever down that way don’t bother going to Rimini, it’s a mess.

I stopped and had a coffee then headed South to the port, entering Ancona I passed a new 800GS who gave me nice cheery wave. The port security seemed non existent and let me into the boarding area without a ticket, a few were already there and we waited for the rest to roll in.

Wapping did the business collecting the tickets at the ferry office. He mentioned that the office was chaos and everyone in it a stranger to soap.


Blowzorn turned up with an oily rear tyre and oily rear brakes. His rear bevel wasn’t as oil tight as he’d have preferred. He rang BMW for details of the nearest dealer in Greece but they couldn’t tell him because the address on their system was written in the Greek Cyrillic alphabet. Nice one.


The boat was impressive; the guys boarding us said they’d tie the bikes down for us. Which they didn’t, perhaps they forgot.


We set up camp and got the s in, smoking in public areas in Greece is obligatory.


During the night, Shapeshifter who shared our cabin evolved into Shitshifter and monopolised the cabins toilet facilities. He looked a worried man in the morning.



Day Four, Saturday, Igoumenista, Greece to Thesseloniki Greece.281 miles I think, the Zumo track log vanished for this day?

In the morning we got our first views of the Greek coastline, the weather felt as unsettled as Shitshifters arse.


The ferries pool was closed so no early morning dip for the Trotters.


We found a bike garage in Igoumenista to get some oil for Blozorns bevel and to try and locate where it was leaking from. They seemed to be quite relaxed about disposing of their unwanted bikes.


Brian waded in and got his hands dirty, silicon was put on the ABS senor “O” ring and the oil level topped up. The tyre was cleaned up as best we could and we headed off for the mountain roads away from the motorways for a welcome change.


The roads were impressive but I wondered how impressed Blowzorn was with mirror finished tarmac and an oily rear end.


I was just starting to relax after a few stressful days.


Later on in the day we pulled over to check the bevel again and Blowzorn decided to ring Williams and ask their advice as they’d serviced it just before coming away. They suggested he try the checking the oil filler plug for tightness. We didn’t even know it had one. It did and it was loose.


We reached Thesseloniki that evening and tossed about trying to find a hotel. Eventually we ended up in a roadside Motel. The rooms could be rented by the hour or all night. We paid for a full night. While dining there that evening we got to see a first. A Scotsman eating fruit that hadn’t been battered and deep fried.

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Dolomites 05 Morocco 06 Scotland 06 Morocco 07 LE to JOG 07 Turkey 08 Morocco 08 Kesh My Arse 09 GOTC 09 France/Spain 09

Day Five, Sunday, Thesseloniki Greece to Bandirma, Turkey. 428 miles.

We loaded up the bikes and paid the Motel/Brothel owner.


While hammering across Greece my alternator belt snapped. It was an old one of Steptoes that I’d put on the last time it snapped on my way to a rally, which I’d neglected to change. I carried a spare so it didn’t take long to replace it.


40 miles down the road the replacement snapped. This was becoming tiresome. It seemed that I’d not got the first one all the way onto the engine pulley (if that’s what its called?) and the rim on the edge had cut through it. Shapeshifter also had a spare so I used his. It also started to rain.


The border between Greece and Turkey took a while because they needed to see all our document at numerous booths and offices. A couple the other guys needed to buy insurance and Blowzorn found out he’d bought along the V5 doc for his old 1150 not the 1200 he was riding.

This confused matters. It was still raining as we waited on the other side of the border for Blowzorn.


We passed the time taking photos, this ones one of Popeyes…..


Finally all through we made our way to Eceabat to catch the small RORO ferry that would take us across the Sea of Marmite. We drew quite a bit of interest from the locals.


Back on the road we didn’t really know where we were heading but wanted to get as close to Istanbul as possible. As it got dark we made a port called Bandirma and found a hotel on the front. The bikes lined up on the road outside looked impressive.


We all used needed a cash machine and food. This we dealt with then found a bar. A good bar. The barman was a little surprised when asked in Turkish if it was a gay venue, amazing the phrases you find in the Lonely Planet guide books.


On the way home in the early hours we found a kebab van. It had to be done.

__________________

Dolomites 05 Morocco 06 Scotland 06 Morocco 07 LE to JOG 07 Turkey 08 Morocco 08 Kesh My Arse 09 GOTC 09 France/Spain 09

Day Six, Monday, Bandirma, Turkey to Istanbul, Turkey. 171 miles.

The view from the hotel room wasn’t one of the best I’d seen but it was comfy enough.


My bike was looking suitably road weathered by now. Even the Monkey had started on the fags so he’d fit in with the rest of the locals.


We headed East to a small town where we could catch yet another small ferry to take us to the South of Istanbul.


The rest of the passengers on board were all very friendly.


We knew Istanbul was big and busy and we wouldn’t stand a chance of all keeping together and finding a hotel so we picked one out of the Lonely Planet guide book and booked ourselves in.

This was perhaps the wisest thing we’d done so far. Istanbul is massive and chaotic. We tried to get our bearings, flagged a moped rider down and asked him to show us to the hotel. His filtering ability far out did ours and most of us had lost him within minutes.

The next idea was to follow a taxi, we found one and gave him the address, he got us to within half a mile of it but then got himself lost. This is him abandoning us in a square.


At least the square had a decent view.


It all got very messy then and me and Shapeshifter ended up on our own. We asked a Tourist policeman who was stood next to a big street map where we were, showing him the address of the hotel. He didn’t know. But a passer by did. The hotel was only 100 yards away.


The hotel overlooked the Blue Mosque and had a manned car park in front of it, it couldn’t have been better. The guys in the car park were a fun bunch, both the British and Turkish.


On the roof top bar we shared a splendid view with the seagulls.


I got in touch with ExpatinIstanbul, David, who read about our trip on UKGSer.com and had said he’d meet us for a when we arrived. We met up and another Brit in Istanbul turned up, Ellis.

Davids the blurry one.


We ate and did the and bar thing to excess.


I remember very little after this point, but I believe it wasn’t all in the best possible taste.

__________________

Dolomites 05 Morocco 06 Scotland 06 Morocco 07 LE to JOG 07 Turkey 08 Morocco 08 Kesh My Arse 09 GOTC 09 France/Spain 09

Day Seven, Tuesday, Istanbul, Turkey. Zero miles.

The morning in Istanbul jumped on me and battered me about the head, breakfast on the roof terrace was a blur. Then someone mentioned the Haman’s, the Turkish baths. Sounded just the ticket for a worn out body and burned out head. Darkhorse Dave had found one around the corner so a few of us wandered in.

We were given little rooms to get undressed in then shown into the bath area with table cloths wrapped around us. After a suitable time sweating while laid on the hot marble floor we were picked out to be pummelled on the big slab in the middle of the room. Foam, then oil then a head massage. Then back on the floor for another sweat. I felt better already. We were then wrapped in clean table cloths and sat round a stove and got brought apple tea.


Feeling like a new man we went for lunch and then me and Burton did a few bars while the others went to the museums. It started raining and we bought umbrellas. It was just like being on holiday.


Back at the hotel we re-grouped in the hotel bar.


We went out to eat, found the worst restaurant in Istanbul then wandered to our beds or bars depending on how tired we all felt. Tomorrow we would be in Bulgaria.

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Dolomites 05 Morocco 06 Scotland 06 Morocco 07 LE to JOG 07 Turkey 08 Morocco 08 Kesh My Arse 09 GOTC 09 France/Spain 09

Day Eight, Wednesday, Istanbul, Turkey to Veliko Tarnovo, Bulgaria, 296 miles.

We escaped Istanbul in an “every man for himself” kind of way. Meeting up outside the city to find out how we all managed it. It seemed Floyd came out worse, a taxi hit him side on, knocked the back of his bike a foot in the air and a foot across the road.

He stayed on it though. Can’t remember much about the Turkish, Bulgarian border but I’m sure we had some more fecking about with V5’s and insurance papers. The roads were bumpy but good though.


A mate had told me of a nice town he’d spent a dirty weekend in called Veliko Tarnova, so short of any better ideas we headed there. As we rode in another bike followed us down the street and pulled up next to us. It was Henry and Kirsten a couple on a RTW trip we knew off UKGSer.com.

The chances of meeting someone you know of in the UK in a strange town are long but to bump into someone in Bulgaria must be huge.

It also turned out to be Henrys 51st birthday that day as well.


We found a hotel and parked up.


It was basic but ridiculously cheap. We headed for a bar with H&K


The bar fittings caught my eye.


After we’d eaten Kirsten left Henry to have a blokes night out for his birthday, we took him to the Spider Club to see a live band. It was two quid each to get in but after telling the bouncer it was Henry’s birthday he let him in for free.


The band seemed to be stuck in an eighties time warp and played Simple Minds style songs all night, we didn’t mind.


The state of the hotel didn't bother me at all by the time I got back to it.

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Dolomites 05 Morocco 06 Scotland 06 Morocco 07 LE to JOG 07 Turkey 08 Morocco 08 Kesh My Arse 09 GOTC 09 France/Spain 09

Edit: Nice ride tho. thanks for sharing!

Shameful +1
shud really stay on ukgsetosserdom