Tag Archives: border crossing

Day 3 – Range of Emotions

It‘s my birthday! But we forgot! Well, until we were in the car already, that is. First time in over a decade that I am not “home” to celebrate my birthday with friends. But holidays are short and we wanted to make the most of it. Plus, as a bit of a reprise of my childhood trauma, we are back in sync with the school holidays, which means my birthday is ALWAYS at some inconvenient time in the middle of them.

and swallowed up in one gulp

But back to the car – we left the campground in record time this morning, as we had a train to catch. Le shuttle eurotunnel to be precise. Departure 9.10am, arrive one hour early. Getting up at 6.30am as usual this meant breakfast in the car. But without an awning, we were even faster than that and on the road by 7.30am.

Much to our delight, the Eurotunnel is happy to deal with that to everyone’s satisfaction. Would you like to take the 8.35am instead, at no charge? Don’t mind if we do. There was just enough time left to grab an overpriced (but pretty decent) Starbucks coffee and munch down yesterday’s pain au chocolat (still excellent, obviously). Apart from the 20 min in the cue for the border checks (whee, Brexit!) that got Nina a bit worried for a moment, it was an absolutely smooth operation. Almost a bit too much, making this marvel of engineering feel a bit underwhelming as an experience. In – 25 minutes of gentle swaying in a dark tunnel, out and off.

Tunnel selfie!

With the time difference it was now 8.15am in England and not much in sight other than getting past London. We made it a proper push, stretching our range to one of the few fast chargers on the western route north (towards the A1). Just after Cambridge, with 40km range left, we pulled up to four Ionity hyperchargers … only to find them all offline! A call to the service line was no good. Two more fast-chargers from another company were at this service station, but full. In the end, about 20 minutes after we had arrived, the Ionity sprang back to life and we could proceed to a more relaxed lunch.

All should have been well, it was still early, only 160km to go and enough charge on the battery now. Campground was pre-booked, a pub to watch the game close by. But when we arrived, the warden took one look into the back of our car and flatly exclaimed: “adults only – you can’t stay here!” That’s it – good luck with your refund, not my problem (booked for 2 adults and 2 kids, obviously). Are you serious?! Its 2.30pm now. Breathe – double check. Not much nearby. Adults only … +45 camping … members only … what the !”§$% …

Then, Nina got the one we needed, kids almost mental in the car by now. We promised to get out, now its another 30 minutes plus the time spent searching. What a lot of horse manure. Although, in the end …

Dynamic trio

… 25 minutes later, at the new camp we had the warmest welcome and a big headshake from this warden for the behaviour of his colleagues. The space at Lupine Woods Camping is perfect for us – rustic but we have it almost to ourselves. There were only maybe 5 other places occupied and he had no issue with us charging the car. A bit of forest to roam free and explore and (as it turned out) other kids to find and play with for the little ones. And to top it all off, the wifi was good enough to stream the game!

So, with catastrophe nearly avoided, we settled in, made some new friends, had a real nice dinner that I cooked instead of oily pub-grub and got to sit down to watch the game. A loss, alas, but that would have been too perfect now, would it not?

P.S.: Dear England, I am not mad, just disappointed!

Day 42 – Off the record

When we got up in the morning, it became clear: The trailer right behind us wasn’t abandoned. Oh no, we had camped right in someone’s “frontyard”. No wonder the voices seemed so close and also so amused last night. So far, nothing moved inside. We decided to pack up and have breakfast somewhere else, feeling very uncomfortable with staying in the spot we were in.

It took us until 8.15am to get ready to go…when we were halted by a closed gate, a closed reception and no one around. Flo suggested to leave 10€ as payment and then just go but the gate turned out to be locked. We couldn’t get the car out. A door for pedestrians was open however so we decided to wander around, looking for a café to have breakfast in. “Pastelaria da Ponte” was exactly the kind of thing we were looking for. It provided much needed coffee, treats and some space to get over the embarrassment that we invaded someone else’s sphere with camping last night.

one of many waterfalls on the way

We were back at 9am, sure that now we definitely could leave. The reception was still closed but miraculously, the gate was now open. Plus, a lady arrived at the same time as we did and she offered to take our payment. So we left. Having at least paid someone.

It was our last day in Portugal. Flo had picked a route through the mountains of the National park as our last bit of route and a pastelaria at the end as well. The drive was scenic and full of surprises. Suddenly everything seemed wetter, lots of green plants and waterfalls around. Number 3 slept through all of it so we just enjoyed the ride.

He woke up when we stopped at the pastelaria. I think, he’s got a motion sensor in his bum or something stupid like that. As soon as we stop, he wakes up. Flo had made sure that it was a decent bakery where we would buy our last pastel de nata but everything looked so good that we ended up buying a little extra as well as bread for our picnic lunch.

It felt like lunch time already so we had an eye out for a good spot. Flo then found a sign pointing to a picnic area. Following the road which turned into a dirt road and then into a rugged dirt road…we decided we must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. But the landscape was beautiful just maybe a bit of shade would be nice for our break. Finally, we arrived at the picnic area which was by a stream with patches of birch trees and…cows. Well, young steers. Luckily, they were a bit away from the benches. I am not sure how interested they’d gotten into our lunch otherwise. We thoroughly enjoyed lunch, ending with an orange as dessert. Number 3 had a language update and does now repeat words. Oranges in particular seem to be to his liking so he often asks for them. For some reason he has decided that they are called “ayah” and cannot be dissuaded despite Flo’s and my best efforts of telling Baby that this is an orange.

Soon after, we crossed the border back into Spain. The border was ridiculous. Just a tiny, single lane bridge with the letter “E” carved into it. We are officially on our way back. It feels weird and also appropriate at the same time. Seriously going to miss pastel de nata though.

perfect spot for a break, right?

The camp ground of choice was close to a National park, not too far from Santiago de Compostela which we want to visit tomorrow. We arrived there at 3pm and looked forward to some planning of what to do on our way back. The camp ground was closed down. Not closed just now, not for the season, no just permanently closed down. The forest was very pretty though and a little river ran next to the road. We shortly discussed what to do and looked up the city camp ground in Santiago de Compostela which was the only other reasonable option. So we drove on for another 50 meters and then Flo turned around. It was 3.30pm now, the optimal time for coffee and tea and we even still had the last pastel de nata with us. So we stopped and had the best coffee break in a prime location just for ourselves. An hour passed, then nearly two. We kept finding reasons why we needed to stay a bit longer: It was so nice here, Number 3 needed to run around and explore a bit longer, the city camp ground was probably ugly and loud so it is better to spend some time here…

Finally, I stated the obvious thing. If we ever wanted to wild camp on this trip, this was probably it. We wouldn’t find a more convenient place or time to do it. It was one of Flo’s not so secret wishes that he wanted to wild camp as we had done on Home to Home. Here was the chance. Probably the only one I would grant him, so he leaped on it.

While exploring the track with Number 3, he came upon the picture perfect camp spot, next to a little waterfall. Other people had used it as a camp spot in the past as there was a little fire pit made of stones and a tiny play hut made out of dry branches.

So we stayed there. For one night off the record.

Day 322 – Breakdown

Rinse and repeat. That was the motto for today. Get up early, ride hard, push through all of Austria and arrive in Würzburg at Flo’s dad’s place in the evening.

Austria in a nutshell. Or so.

Austria in a nutshell. Or so.

From Budapest, Vienna is just 150km away so when we reached the Austrian capital, it was time for our first coffee stop. Not wanting to get into the city traffic, we had it at a motorway fuel station along with the obligatory Mozart chocolate. It had been raining since we crossed into Austria and it didn’t look like it would stop any time soon so I put on all of my rain gear now, Flo was still wearing his from yesterday’s rain.

It only got worse. All through Austria, it was pourring down with rain. While the suits kept us dry, our gloves were soaked through leading to cold hands and our boots were simply carry-on puddles. During a roadside lunch break at Burger King’s, we emptied our boots out, at least.

Trying to get warm and slightly dry

Trying to get warm and slightly dry

All this rain led to the probably most dangerous situation of the whole trip. It was gushing down, making it hard to see much and the Austrian traffic people deemed it appropriate to paint a giant white arrow for direction right into a corner. Only the right lane turned but the next lane over was also ornated with an arrow pointing straight ahead…in a corner. Rain and paint are the deadliest combination of things for a motorcyclist. The rear tire gave way and slide which brought the bike to wooble dangerously before the tire had grip again. Lucky us that we didn’t fall going 130 km/h on a motorway.

Damn, green cooling liquid all over the place

Damn, green cooling liquid all over the place

The border between Austria and Germany is practically non-existent. We were waved through without a glimpse into our passports and weren’t even able to stop at the “Welcome to the Federal Republic of Germany” sign as there was simply no place to stop. Still wanting to get a “back in Germany” photo, we stopped at the next rest area. As soon as we had crossed over to Germany, the rain had stopped. Still, we didn’t quite get our celebratory photo as Flo discovered bright green cooling liquid on Rocinante’s side; we had a leaking radiator.

Broken Rocinante and desperate Flo waiting for the towing truck

Broken Rocinante and desperate Flo waiting for the towing truck

The next fuel station was not too far away. They even sold liquid that is supposed to fix small leaks. All you have to do is pour it in and keep the motor going for 15 to 20 mins so that it can harden. As soon as the engine went on, cooling liquid was gushing all over the place. This motorbike was going nowhere until the radiator was fixed. Out of money and out of time, this would mean the end of our trip. No riding into Frankfurt, celebrating our achievement. What a bitter disappointment. Flo was desperate.

Our bike does this way too often

Our bike does this way too often

So first, we called the ADAC. There was nothing more we could try at the fuel station so we might as well hope that they send a mechanic. They didn’t. They sent a towing truck for a car. He was competent nonetheless and we had Rocinante securely on the truck in no time. The workshop we were towed to was awesome but they didn’t have good news for us: The replacement would only be here at the end of the week and it would cost us 500 euros. Impossible. We have neither the time nor the money for it. Completely deflated, we asked about a botch job. Due to German law, the workshop is unable to provide anything like that. You could sue the workshop and no one would take that risk. However, one of the staff people gave us the hint that we, ourselves, could ask someone to fuse the holes and put the radiator back in. This way, the workshop would be not liable and we have at least the chance to ride to Frankfurt. They were even able to point us to a mechanic for radiators of all sorts. Flo called him and he agreed to see us at 8am tomorrow morning to take a look at the radiator and try to fuse it.

Well, this is not how we thought our last night on the road would look like.

Well, this is not how we thought our last night on the road would look like.

Tomorrow morning. At least, there was hope again. All we had to do now was get a rental car as the mechanic was 25km away from Passau. Oh, and a place to spend the night which wouldn’t cost 50 Euros. We checked everything online but 50 euros was the cheapest we could find. So we concentrated on finding a rental car and got lucky. There was a special offer: 33 euros for one day and 300km. If everything else failed, we would sleep in the car. As Passau turned out to be too expensive for us, we started driving towards the mechanic. The GPS showed a camp ground on the way and maybe it would be less than 50 euros.

The camp ground turned out to be amazing. 12 euros for a night for two people; exactly what we needed for one night. Super-duper tired, we put up the tent one last time. Tomorrow would tell us if we can arrive in Frankfurt on two wheels or if we have to resort to four wheels instead.

Day 321 – Further north, stats 112 Turkey

We got up early today when the alarm clock went off. Breakfast in the hostel was quick and easy which can also be said for packing the bike. Soon we were on the road.

After 60km, we crossed over into Serbia. The crossing itself was no problem at all but for about 100km, the motoway was a one lane road without much chance of overtaking. All in all, Serbia seemed to be poorer than Bulgaria. It took us hours but we crossed all of Serbia. Crossing into Hungary was just a look into our passports and a wave with a hand…we didn’t even get stamps anymore. Since we had made such good progress, we decided to go for the Iron butt achievement and push on to Budapest. 850km in one day is a new high score for us.

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Country data #12: Turkey

Full screen version of the map

  • 4949 km in total (4854km of GPS tracked)
  • 16 travel days, 25 days total
  • $20.82 Average cost per night (5x room, 19x camping and 1x invitation)
  • 261.32l of standard fuel for $ 614.58 (4.84 l / 100km)
  • ~$24.99 for food eating half the time, two invitations
  • ~$2,400 in total.

All $ values are converted to NZD.

Day 320 – Homewards

And thus, the travelling part of this journey was over. Istanbul had been the last point for a long while, we then extended it to “after we’ve seen Gallipoli” but now, no matter how you looked at it, the travelling through Turkey was over. From this point onward, we’ll ride homewards.

On the last stretch to the border, Turkey was quite flat

On the last stretch to the border, Turkey was quite flat

Today, leaving Turkey and getting to Sofia was a “must”. We packed up early but still, we weren’t on the road as early as we’d liked. It was probably 10am already. Getting to the border between Turkey and Bulgaria didn’t take long. However, we got the first fine of the whole trip. Riding towards the border on a long straight road, we went at a 102kmh when the speed limit was 90kmh. Yes, we did speed…it was annoying anyway. There were only a few cars on the road and every single one of them was waved to the side of the road to receive their fines. It turns out that it is a common thing for countries in the EU to do as well. From now on, we saw police fining speeding before every border but we had learnt our lesson. Turkey remained the only country where we got a fine.

Last picture on the Turkish side. Bulgaria, here we come!

Last picture on the Turkish side. Bulgaria, here we come!

Spending all our coins in the town before the border, we were happy with the progress we made. Crossing the border before lunch time meant that we’d probably make it past Sofia today to camp near the border to Serbia. Standing in line, we got our passports stamped without an issue. Asking for the customs office, we got to the right place and they checked that our papers are in order and it’s the right bike. And then we waited. And waited. And waited. We had to wait for over an hour, closer to 1 1/2 hours before we could leave. When we crossed from Iran into Turkey, the staff put our information into the system incorrectly. So now, the computer protested and wouldn’t let them finish the process. Instead of copying all our documents, stamping us out and letting us go, they kept us waiting until the staff at the other border had corrected their mistake so they could finish their internal process. It had nothing to do with us or our paperwork and it was annoying as hell.

Having lost so much time rather unexpectedly, we were dreading the Bulgarian side. It is the entrance into the EU so we expected strict controls. However, all we had to do was ride through a spray of disinfectant (what?), declare if we had any cigarettes or alcohol and were sent on our way. Easy as. And so we entered into the European Union after four years away (not counting our single visit over Christmas).

Entering the EU, we noticed another step up in wealth

Entering the EU, we noticed another step up in wealth

From here, everything went smoothly. The motorway in Bulgaria is in a great condition, there are fuel stations and rest areas around and we made good progress again. It was unbelievably hot though. One of the things that struck both Flo ad me while riding north was how well off Bulgaria is compared to other countries we have been to. In Germany, Bulgaria is seen as one of those cheap countries you can go to for holidays but compared to most of the world, everybody is well off here. It was even a step up from Turkey. Europe, and the European Union especially, is a rich place and full of privilege; too often it is not really seen as such.

The corner of Sofia that we stayed in had lots of little places catering to our taste

The corner of Sofia that we stayed in had lots of little places catering to our taste

With the motorway under our wheels, we decided to push to Sofia despite being so late. We booked an excellent hostel online and with the place where we would sleep tonight determined, we set towards it. At around 6pm, we arrived at Moreto & Cafe which turned out to be incredibly lovely. After a quick shower, we walked around the block in search of food and found this corner of Sofia quite nice and interesting. It’s a pity that we don’t have the time and money to stay and explore but it’ll have to wait for another time.

The hostel organized a boardgaming evening that night and I ended up talking to people and having two cupcakes while poor Flo blogged. Then, we were too tired to participate and went straight to bed.

Day 265 – Bye and Dubai

Leaving the International school in Sohar

Leaving the International school in Sohar

Smooth. Just the whole day went smoothly. We got up in time to have one last breakfast with Lina and Michael at their home in Sohar. After a thankfully brief scene of goodbyes we were alone and ready to pack up our stuff. Two hours after that, we handed the key back to Lina and were on the road for good.

The ride was good as always in Oman. The incoming summer heat was tamed a good bit by light cloud cover and we arrived at the border in no time. We crossed the border in record time. Chapeau to both the Omani and Emirati officials, this was the least painful border crossing yet. Continue reading

Day 200 – Mekong’s different faces

Looking out of the guest house first thing in the morning...we had cow visitors on the other side of the road

Looking out of the guest house first thing in the morning…we had cow visitors on the other side of the road

We got up early, packed all our things in a way that would let us get to passports and carnet easily at the border and went off in search for breakfast. The same restaurant where we’ve had lunch yesterday was open so we had more baguette and muesli. 🙂 The other two tables were filled with employees of an NGO and their kids who talked to us about motorcycle travels and the like. In the end, they were even able to give us direction to a printing place so we could print something off that we needed for the Iranian visa.

Having done that, we made sure to have exactly the right amount of US dollars before heading north. From Stung Treng, it is another 60km to the border. The Lonely Planet warns that it is in the middle of nowhere but we hadn’t expected that much nowhere to be honest. First of all, it was the worst road we have been on in Cambodia. Big chunks of it are missing, at stretches the seal has created mountains in the middle of the road and there was literally NOTHING around so we even stopped and checked if this was really the road or if we had taken a wrong turn without noticing. Nope, this was the road. Leading to the only border crossing between Cambodia and Laos. Continue reading

Day 169 – Run for the sun

Again on the "old" bridge ... it was just shorter

Again on the “old” bridge … it was just shorter

We could not find any more destinations or activities in Malaysia that were able to re-kindle the fire and joy that has been missing for a couple of days. Nina and I talked a lot about how we feel about the trip, what we thought were the reasons and what we might do with it. One decision that came out of this was to call it for Malaysia and head over to Thailand, today. There was still doubt, though. Are we missing out? We also did not want to do Malaysia dis-justice, when we were so hyped up about exploring here after coming over from Sumatra.

My last bid for a set of Heidenau K60 in Malaysia fell short as well, so at 10:30 it was time to hit the road for the last 150 km in Malaysia. Since I could not find them in Thailand either, it might come that we need to settle on a different tire soon. There was an importunity to get the promising looking Metzeler Karoo 3, but unfortunately they do not make a front in Rocinante’s size. Continue reading