Category Archives: Gear

Day 298 – Brake time

One day in Trabzon to take a breath and look at the sights in and around the city. For Turkey, we got a 3 months visa on arrival so after rushing around in Iran, we do need to take it slower now. Thus, we slept in, enjoyed the breakfast that was included and…started on chores.

First thing to do was finding a money changer. We deliberately took too many USD into Iran, given that credit cards don’t work, we wanted to be safe rather than sorry. But Iran turned out to be the cheapest country so far which meant we have USD now that will not be of use in Turkey or the EU. The rate offered at the exchange was actually very good so we changed enough for the next couple of days.

Thanks guys for shouting lunch!

Thanks guys for shouting lunch!

Next in line was Rocinante. After the scare in Iran, Flo wanted to take a close look at Rocinante, change the oil, get new brake pads for the front and get a new chain. For all of this, we needed a Honda dealer and Trabzon actually has one. So we showed up and the fun of translation began. The first staff member we talked to was very nice and helpful but translating via google translate takes its time plus he didn’t know all the prices and if the spare parts are actually stocked. Thus, we waited for the mechanic to arrive while sipping a coffee.

Once the mechanic arrived, things seemed to start moving. Flo got a fixed price for the oil change and new brake pads while no chain was available. Being amazingly friendly staff, we were then sat down in the “waiting area” and someone went out and bought lunch for us. It was still a waiting game though and I regretted having joined Flo. I started feeling sick and really just wanted to lie down in bed. Instead we waited. Around 2pm, we were fetched back to have a look at the bike. The oil had been changed but the brake pads didn’t fit because of the ABS and now they were trying to locate pads in any of the close by cities.

These are in dire need of replacement. I have one half used set in spare to get us to the next town.

These are in dire need of replacement. I have one half used set in spare to get us to the next town.

In the end, no brake pads could be found and Ismail advised us to take the detour over Ankara to get new ones. However, the Honda dealer staff had done more than could be expected and Rocinante was even cleaned before we got her back. Looking all clean and shiny again, it’s not quite the same bike anymore.

Leaving at 3pm, I didn’t feel like seeing any of the sights anymore. Instead, we went back to the hotel for some relaxing and then out to find all those confectionaries that the Lonely Planet talks about. We visited two of the bigger ones and were successful: Flo had ice cream while I bought baklava and a chocolate dessert in the first one; in the second one we discovered delicious Turkish delight rolls with a hazelnut paste.

Done for today, we purchased fresh bread and a beer (woah, a country which sells beer) for dinner and a nice and cozy evening watching youtube.

Day 295 – Grenzerfahrung

Last bit of road in Iran

Last bit of road in Iran

Writing the blog post from two days ago in the morning, with the thoughts on returning home at the end, left us in a bit of a low mood after breakfast. Thus, packing took extra long this morning. Not a big deal, though. We had only 130 km to go to the border.

Near lunch time we hit the border town of Maku. We filled up one last time with the obscenely cheap fuel and sat down along the main road through that narrow valley for lunch. It is always good to tackle a border with all primary functions tended to. Just as we were doing some last minutes preparations (I forgot to take proof of my German bike insurance which is valid and required in Turkey) Iran decided to give us a very Iranian parting gift. A guy jumped out of a taxi, shoved a melon and some bananas into my unsuspecting hands and jumped back into the taxi with a “welcome to Iran!”. Now we had bananas and a melon to declare as well – and another amazing memory of Irani hospitality.

Random gift of bananas and a honey melon. A melon?!?

Random gift of bananas and a honey melon. A melon?!?

We reached the border shortly thereafter. By the looks of it, it is only ever used by thousands of trucks or pedestrians. There is a lane for passenger vehicle crossing, but all booths are abandoned and no one was to be seen. It was relatively easy after all. Dodge the hawkers, find an official and then get led to the equivalent desk in the pedestrian terminal through back doors. Maybe 45 minutes later we stood in front of the two gates that separate Iran from Turkey with all the required stamps. Iran opened its gate for us and we called over to the Turkish guys …

… and waited. A long while. The Turkish border guards who saw us after one minute played manly man games with the Iranians and us. They left us hanging for about 20 minutes before pushing the the button that would open the gate. What a great start. Smile and wave …

Note the line of truck starting at least 6km before the actual border

Note the line of truck starting at least 6km before the actual border

We had to work around a similar way on the Turkish side. Passport immigration police guy was only available in the passenger terminal, so through some more back doors we went and met Mr. Grumpy Number two. I will never understand why some guys feel the need to underline their authority with outward rudeness. It did not get better when he saw our German passports. “Deutsche? …” sneer … then he only stamped one passport and got really annoyed when I remarked that I would like to get an entry stamp, too. Smile and wave …

Great light and dark due to the rain clouds

Great light and dark due to the rain clouds

Luckily customs guy did not know what to do, really, so our workaround regarding the insurance remained untested. I helped him with the carnet and off we went, into thick storm clouds on the horizon. We put our full rain gear on, ducked down and headed into the Kurdish town of Doĝubayazit. This grey border town had nothing to offer, neither phone shop nor ATM in sight, so we pushed on northwards along the border.

Our first sight in Turkey was the former Armenian capital of Ani. To get there, all roads lead through Kars, the regional center. En route there, I felt the strong need to answer nature’s call and we stopped on the first pass. Right then a van pulled over and four soldier type guys came out. One was a sergeant and had this way about asking what we were up to that showed suspicion hidden behind mere curiosity. We moved along.

The world appeared to end at the horizon so I, wisely, packed the camera away

The world appeared to end at the horizon so I, wisely, packed the camera away

The rain started for real beyond the pass, with lightning and thunder hitting left and right. It was cold, too, and just kept on getting colder as we got closer to Kars. The last pass went over 2300m, we were soaked and shivering by this point. Looking around there were still patches of snow on the ground…no wonder it was cold! We had done another 200 km on the Turkish side by then and stopped at a petrol station maybe 5km before the longed after hotel. The guys there took pity on us and shouted us a hot çay (tea). That got us the rest of the way through freezing rain without frostbite.

The hotel was cheap, which was the best to say about it, really. To make up for it, we went out that night to a really nice restaurant. What a treat – tablecloth, fresh bread and really good not-kebab food. Just what we needed to get the spirits back up again!

Day 291 – Thick as a brick

Our awesome view was almost entirely replaced by fog and rain

Our awesome view was almost entirely replaced by fog and rain

As we got up in the morning, we sure got a load full of what Iranians come here for: Thick fog and drizzly rain. We got up a bit early since our guesthouse owner insisted, three times, that we would leave at 8 am. Everything was done, packed and ready to go onto the bike – yet no guy and thus no passport anywhere in sight. We made the best of it and got the bike loaded up. When it was all done, there was still no one to be seen. I gave him a call in the end and I am pretty sure I woke him up, that joker.

Almost an hour late and packed like little Michelin men we hopped on the bike to brave the rain. I briefly considered taking the pass from here to Tabriz, but a quick inquiry revealed that it was unsealed. Not something I’d like to tackle in the cold and wet. That meant back to the Caspian Sea and due north instead.

Sorry for the creepy look. That's what you get for trying to take pictures in the pouring rain!

Sorry for the creepy look. That’s what you get for trying to take pictures in the pouring rain!

Nina’s comment: We stopped shortly in the first village that we reached from Masuleh: Fouman. Already on the way in I had seen posters of a particular kind of pastry everywhere. Now, on the way back, I bought two of them to try. It’s a pastry filled with a cinnamon paste that is eaten warm and it was just the thing to try when you ride through the rain. By the time we thought of taking a picture, even Flo had bitten into his. The boy who had sold me the pastries saw what we were doing and ran out into the rain to give me a free third one so that we could take a picture of a whole one. So freaking nice!

The forests are so wet that fog escapes from them into the sky

The forests are so wet that fog escapes from them into the sky

The ride along the coastline was much the same, but at least with fewer towns and tacky tourism than yesterday. Repeated showers hit us from a clouded sky in regular intervals while we made good progress towards the pass to Ardabil. We did briefly consider to stay at the coast, but we were still itching for some more km (and better weather).

The pass was a dodgy affair in the rain and with heaps of weekend traffic. It got even more disconcerting when we hit the cloud level and visibility was reduced to 25m at times. Even this did not stop some Peykamicazees to barrel on at 75 km/h. I was mostly worried with how slippery the road was.

Another round of emptying out the puddle

Another round of emptying out the puddle

It was a big relief to hit the top and come over onto the Ardabil plain. Just, that it was cold, so very cold. It got better for me when I drained my left shoe for the second time of the day and ran some laps to heat up.

Back on the bike, a noise that started this morning got me more and more worried. A metallic rattle when accelerating. It was a bit hard to pin down, since it only sounded in gear under load. All potential loose screws were checked but nothing could be found. When we started looking for a camp spot, I got one more clue and it was horrifying. I could feel a rattling crunch via the gear lever, further narrowing the scope. Some loose part in the gear box? 1000 km before the border? Nothing could be done for now though, so we continued our search for the spot while moving towards the next item on our “to see” list.

Looks like the perfect environment for camping

Looks like the perfect environment for camping

The third try was the charm this time. After a beautiful site that unfortunately was always in view of the road and another one that had a settlement nearby, we scored. A little orchard tucked about 100m from a bend in the road provided perfect cover from prying eyes and the deep grass made for a great camp spot. It was quite cold though, as it turned out after dinner.

Regarding the bike, I went to bed thinking I might have dodged a huge bullet, though. While doing one last thorough check and opening the front sprocket cover to check for damage there, I noticed scratch marks on the chain. It was loose! Like, really loose and it looked like it had scratched a lot today. Come to think of it, the last time I adjusted the chain was in Sohar … idiot that I am. Let’s see. Tomorrow’s first kilometers will tell.

Day 290 – Princes of the Caspian Sea

the mountain wearing a veil

the mountain wearing a veil

We were lucky: Despite the thunderstorm at night, our tents were dry by the time we got up. Again, we could hear the wolves howl at night but Flo said they must have gotten into a fight with the dogs as he heard some serious fighting noises. I am just thankful for my earplugs otherwise I might have lost A LOT of sleep…

Joris was all packed up by the time one single cloud dribbled rain drops on us but our tent was still standing. It wasn’t too bad though; we narrowly escaped the really bad weather. For now, the sun returned and we followed a road around the mountain for another 20km before getting back onto the main road.

Stop time is photo time!

Stop time is photo time!

Leaving our camping spot, we had to wait for a flock of sheep to get off the road which made for quite the picturesque scene.

Mountain roads in Iran are lovely but as soon as we got back onto the main road the traffic became horrific. Not dangerous or crazy just pulling-your-hair-out-in-despair congested. It was one single line of cars crawling up and down through the valleys with no end in sight. Since it was Thursday, I wondered if all these cars belong to Tehranis who escape to the Caspian Sea for the weekend. The riding wasn’t fun even if we made way better progress than any car as Joris and Flo were overtaking left and right. Behind us, dark, stormy clouds were gathering and thunder rolled over the valleys. Somehow, we managed to skirt the rain only ever getting slightly wet. So we kept going and going and going through bad traffic and chased by bad weather.

Time to say goodbye

Time to say goodbye

Finally, we arrived in Muhammedin, the city where our paths would separate again. Flo sorted out the data code for his mobile phone so that we have mobile internet again and while waiting, Joris found a bakery where he bought lunch and we got doughnuts as snacks for the beach. Thus, a Transalp and an Africa Twin arrived at the shore of the Caspian Sea.

The Caspian Sea…the Lonely Planet already warns travellers that it is not pretty. Polluted by every country that borders it, an algae grows rapidly in it and it is close to extinction of the fish (and thus caviar) population. The reason why it is a popular spot for Iranis is because of all the lovely rain the shore gets; a fascination no European will ever share. With our treasures from the bakery, we sat down in a shoreside pavilion for a shared lunch. Then, it was time to say good bye. It was the first time we travelled together with a fellow overlander for a bit and we liked the experience. Plus, Joris is probably the most laid back traveller possible. 🙂 Looking forward to meeting up again at some point in Europe but for now: Safe travels, Joris!

Back on our own, we continued along the Caspian Sea. It is not pretty. Most of the time, the sea is completely hidden by the 1970s hotel complexes in rather poor repair. Between the hotels, you find all sorts of shops for brands like Levi’s or Hilfiger and we were not sure if those are copies or the real thing. After a while and some desperate searching we ended up at “KFC” for lunch. As one might expect, it was overpriced and not good. Continuing on our way, it drizzled on and off and the grey sky made us both really tired. However, we couldn’t find a hotel that looked inviting so we decided to try and camp. Since we had descended to the Caspian Sea, forests were the main feature of the landscape. With so many trees to hide behind, camping shouldn’t be a problem. We stocked up on food and started looking. Shouldn’t yes, but it was a problem; suddenly the density of population was overwhelming. Behind every hill was a village and on every slope was a house. After three serious tries with getting off the main road and trying to get into the no-mans-land, we gave up. By now, Masuleh was only 70km away. Masuleh is an ancient mountainside village that is known for its houses; it is so steep that the roofs of one row of houses work as footpaths for the next row up. Getting there would be a real push but camping was impossible here and we didn’t want to stay in a probably overpriced ugly hotel.

almost there, only 35 km to go

almost there, only 35 km to go

Once we left the city of Rasht behind us (which was annoying in the evening rush hour) and started to get into the mountains again, we both felt better. It was pretty here and we could probably find a camping spot if we had to. A lot of people were around, most of them having a picnic and all the restaurants had colourful light outside.

It didn’t get any emptier on the way up to Masuleh. First, we passed a “toll booth” which luckily, we didn’t have to pay, then we came across many tour buses all parked below the village. But the locals kept waving us on, further up into the village. Here, colourful decorations were put up in every street…so many indeed that I started to wonder if there was a festival going on. In one of the turns to go further up, a local stopped us and asked which hotel we wanted to go to. Hearing that we didn’t have a room yet, he got all business-like and dragged Flo off to show rooms and negotiate prices. I was quite happy guarding the bike as I was super tired by this point but people kept coming up to take pictures with me or have a chat. Just when Flo came back, I was standing in front of the bike with a baby on one arm and a little kid standing next to me. Unfortunately, WE don’t have the picture.

Got settled in just as the sun had set

Got settled in just as the sun had set

Flo found a beautiful room with a balcony and a view of the village for 1 million rial. That is on the pricey side but by far not the most we have paid for rooms here. So I just said that we take it and we dumped all our things in it. It turned out that somehow we had rented the whole house as the owner gave us the key and told us to lock it when we go out and also at night.

It was just getting dark and also just started to rain so we put on our rain gear (first time for the hoods, yay!) to explore the village. It might be a village that lives off tourism and it might also be not authentic anymore but at night with all the lights on, it was a magical place. It felt a lot like wandering through a Christmas market. Everything looked pretty and inviting, bathed in light. After exploring multiple levels of the village, we sat down in a tea house to have a wonderful cup (or three) of hot tea with rock sugar. The perfect ending for a looooooooooooong day.

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 262 – Celebrating the weekend

All together at the restaurant

All together at the restaurant

Flo and I finished our last administrative tasks today as Friday and thus the weekend was coming up. The most important information we got was that Touratech Dubai does not stock any tires in Rocinante’s size. So we either have to find tires somewhere else in Dubai or we have to make our current ones last until Turkey. We’ll keep you updated on this.

Other than that, we wrote blog entries, emails, postcards and updated trip data. Once Lina and Michael were back, the weekend celebration could begin. So we went out for dinner to a Turkish place and gorged ourselves on Fattush salad, a mixed mazza plate with the biggest bread I have ever seen, grape rolls filled with rice and some grilled meat for the guys.

In the end, we all had to roll out of the restaurant and still took some take away with us.

Day 240 – Exploring Sohar

look at all this food - wohoo!

look at all this food – wohoo!

It was late yesterday…for Lina and Michael who waited for us to arrive and for us who needed to ride to Sohar and clear a border in between. Thus, we were all rightly tired and took it slow. The best start into the day is a rich and long breakfast so Lina did her best to impersonate her parents who have perfected that art. What I am trying to say: Breakfast was amazing. From a breakfast egg to fresh bread to the veggie platter. As always, I ate too much and as Michael put it, breakfast took three hours. 🙂

By the time we were ready to explore Sohar, it was 1pm. Sohar is not really a tourist destination as we found out when we looked for things to do on the Lonely Planet website. To be honest, it asked us if we’d “gone off the beaten track?”. However, there are still things to look at so we started with a trip to the ocean. When we had looked at the temperature in Oman last week, it was around 25 degrees but today, the car showed a lovely 34 degrees outside. Lina and Michael assured us that it changed only a day ago but such is our luck…it is hot here as well.

These things looks the same all around the world ...

These things looks the same all around the world …

After a stroll along the beach, we drove to a Portuguese fort. There are renovations going on at the moment so it was closed to the public but we still managed to take some lovely shots of it.

The next attraction on the list was Sohar’s only mall. Recently, a “Chocolate Room” has opened there (Lina told me this a couple of weeks ago) so it was definitely a destination. Also, I really needed to keep my eyes open for a headscarf as the improvised black cotton would not do in this weather. So we entered a lovely little shop full of pretty scarfs and traditional male headwear…which were too pricey for us…but Lina said I can have one as a combined birthday gift. 😀 I now got an amazingly pretty, coloured, Kashmir-silk headscarf. So happy!

After this surprising gift, we went to the Chocolate Room and had hot chocolates. Can the day get any better?

Tired, we got home again. Too tired to cook, food (too much of it) was ordered. Well, since a picnic was planned for tomorrow, we were now all set of this as well. 🙂

Day 223 – Pick up line

The owner of our guesthouse organised a pick-up truck to drive us to the border himself

The owner of our guesthouse organised a pick-up truck to drive us to the border himself

Well, here we were. Ready to load the bike onto the back of our guesthouse owner’s Hillux and to leave Laos for good. It hurts – also quite literally, which works as a constant reminder of the rational to leave via truck. Still, skipping almost 400 km, or at least traveling by other means, feels like a little defeat.

We even had to ask Marten to interrupt his morning routine to come help load up the bike. Everything was tied down pretty solid, I got the money from an ATM and off we went. The Hillux was a good mode of transport, however, comfortable back seats meant that the hatch didn’t fully close while Rocinante was back there.

Saying good-bye to the guesthouse owner at the border

Saying good-bye to the guesthouse owner at the border

The road towards the border town of Houay Xai was a lovely mountain road, if in a bit of disrepair in places. The first two rough bits still let our heads snap round to the back, but Rocinante was tied down quite well. Only 191 km, but the windy road and careful driving meant that it took quite a while. Including a brief coffee break on the roadside, the whole leg took a bit more than three hours.

Getting the bike down at the border was exhausting in the heat. We did bring a ramp but three people, Flo with his arm in a sling, weren’t enough for a safe affair. When I went to recruit two “strong” guys to help unload, all four guys around felt that could only mean them. All the better. 🙂

Flo had to ride for the bit in between borders

Flo had to ride for the bit in between borders

The border posts are on opposite sides of the Mekong river, connected by Friendship Bridge number 4. This meant that I did have to ride the bike, at least for the 2 km between borders. A fact that got Nina pretty nervous to begin with. I took an Ibuprofen and bit down the pain.

Border crossing was a smooth affair, if a bit tiresome. Heaps of bureaucratic procedure meant that we would need the whole of two hours. Nina had to fill out all the forms as I simply cannot write with my left hand. All the while, our pickup was waiting only 10 meters away, just in sight.

Our pick-up on the left...with no ramp

Our pick-up on the left…with no ramp

Said pickup was provided by a young couple and their Isuzu truck.  They did not bring any kind of ramp or recruited help, so getting the bike up took another moment. Some workmen came past and we used a pile of dirt on a building site nearby as a ramp. At least the bed of the truck was long enough to get all of the bike in and close the latch. On the downside, the rear seats in the cabin had that much less space and would rather qualify as “emergency seats”. Ah well.

Again, no ramp but lots of manpower this time

Again, no ramp but lots of manpower this time

In the end, it took us another 5 hours to reach our pre-booked guesthouse in Chiang Mai. All we had to eat since breakfast were a round of snacks from a 7eleven. The guesthouse sure lived up to its reviews. The staff was supremely helpful and eager. They lifted the bike of the back even without a ramp and carried all our stuff up to the third floor to our lovely room.

It was late, 8 pm by the time we shambled out one last time in search for food. The big weekend market was on, so we walked all the way to the center of the old town for some nice street food treats and an interesting chat with a pair of German expats.