We left Istanbul at about 10:30 am in the morning, about the same time we left Athens. What a difference though. We drove out from our hotel located in the Sultanahmet to Kennedy Caddesi and headed northwest. Beautiful road next to the Marmara sea, a well kept park on the seaside of the drive made it very picturesque. Traffic was light and flowed well until well past Istanbul and into another town where road construction ground things to a halt and delayed us by about 15 mins. All told, we drove out of Istanbul in 1 ¼ to ½ hrs in mostly trouble free conditions. Pretty good since it is twice the size of New York City.
Our drive through the countryside was fairly boring as the area north of Istanbul toward the border is flat and farmland. However as we crossed this area we stopped at a service station/market to buy something to eat and get out of the heat. As is customary on my part I always wave to the service staff. We picked up a large bottle of Coke and some chips. Immediately the owner, one of the pump guys brings us out to a patio table he has set up between islands and brings 2 cups for us to drink from. We sit with him, unable to converse much but we try and we offer him some pop with he declines. A few minutes later he rushes away and comes back with 2 very hot coffees for us. They are the best coffee we have had in Turkey. After telling him where we have been, and he tapping his heart with feeling, Sandra brings out an Oh Canada pin that we wanted to give Bora and we pinned it on him. You should have seen him glow.
Our drive continued north and east and into the hills heading to the Bulgarian border. What a gorgeous road and the new tire really was appreciated. Thanks again Bora ! As we reached the border though at about 2:30 pm. things changed. Here was an old Soviet style building that houses the Turkish Border Services, for which I use the term lightly. A complete departure from our previous experience.
Immediately things go south in a big way.
We check in with the first border guy, and he tells us to go inside to get the passports stamped checking out, and the vehicle stamped as well. We go to the vehicle inspection guy and he stamps us out without even inspecting the serial number on the bike. Says to Sandra he trusts Canadians. We then go to the Border Polis and we tell the guy we are leaving Turkey to Bulgaria, he stamps the passports and we return to the vehicle guy and he gives his OK and “bye bye“. We then drive to the final checkpoint where a guy examines everything for 10 mins. then says, “Problem“, and points to the stamp over the Visa. He says it says we just entered Turkey not exited Turkey and it needs changed.
We are questioning this when some Turks/Bulgarians who speak his language and English intercede and say they will help us. We go back to the Border Polis. After 20 mins of explanations and how they made the error with their stamp, he takes the ‘helpers’ aside and immediately their faces turn pale and they tell us they will be outside but they can’t help any more. I am ordered to follow him, and then bring the bike back from the checkpoint.
I come back with the bike to find him gone and Sandra standing outside. Now I’m hot figuratively and literally, and since I have dealt with customs and immigration in my past life I do not scare easily with these types. So I go after him, and he finally checks back in with the vehicle guy, and all the time they are looking at computer screens. One other border guy begins to try peeling my Visa sticker off my passport and I tell him to stop and demand he give it back. While he doesn’t return it he does stop peeling it.
In the room with the vehicle guy another guy comes in who seems to be a boss, and the border polis guy gets some kind of direction and I get my exit stamp and an apology, ‘Sorry’ its OK now‘.
So we go back to the checkpoint guy with our new exit stamps.
He again examines them for 10 mins and then says “Problem”.
I said “What now?”.
He says the border polis guy did not cancel the entry stamp and I need to go back and tell him to cancel it.
By this point there is a line up of other cars and people are huddled about his little kiosk window about 200 meters away from the main building.
I then advise the checkpoint guy that I don’t tell anybody how to do their job at the border.
Sandra pipes in:“The Border Polis guy says everything is OK“ You say its not“.
I then said “Listen if there is a problem you need to talk with the Border polis guys, I can’t tell him to do anything You call him; you talk.”
A fellow that identifies himself as an American now living in Bulgaria who has been listening in begins to say “Welcome to our life.” and that this isn’t America and these guys are nasty. Sandra says that he says to her that these guys can make you cry. So he tells me to go, and I say “ No’ Get the border polis here and talk it over‘ and with my two index fingers pointing to each other I gesticulate.
He makes a radio call but gets no response. No doubt, those guys don’t want to talk with him either. I then take off my helmet and sit on the bike, 7 cars are lined up behind me.
The American/Bulgarian then hands over his passport. The guys demands all 5 passengers passports. Then after 4-5 mins he says “Problem” and begins to tell him what his problem is and to go back. The fellow has to make about 10 cars back up by this time so he can back up but he goes. Another guy is told to go back as well for a second time. I’m just chuckling about this.
Then the checkpoint guy pretends to look at his screen for a few moments, says “Bree-aan Geeeor--jah” that’s what they think my name is, (forget the Smith) and I respond “Yes” and he hands back both passports and says “You can go”.
With that we are gone. I guess the magical cancellation stamp appeared or the passport healed itself. So that little round about took almost 2 hrs of riding time away, but as Sandra says makes for another border story that we have to tell.
We cross into Bulgaria and are welcomed back into the EU, which feels like home after Turkey, and then we look at the road ahead of us. A 1960’s paved ?? road that is barely 2 lanes wide, no shoulders, 4’ tall weeds growing into it and twisty as hell with ruts and potholes. It begins to shower a bit but nothing worth anything in the 33C heat except that it causes the road to steam. Then out of the steam comes an old green 60’s soviet style van, something that looks like the old Corvair vans of the 60’s but more bulbous coming slowly up the road. I comment to Sandra, “this is what I imagine the Transylvanian road to be like“. It takes about 1 hr to drive the 56 kms we need to make to get to our destination for the night, Tsavero. Quite the experiential day.
Bulgaria
We have noticed with concern how conditioned we had become in the almost month that we were in Turkey and then Greece before that. Instead of running across a street to avoid being run over, you can stroll down the middle. There is no garbage strewn about. There are garbage cans and they aren’t overflowing. There is no pushing or shoving. There is though a lot of drinking. My God a 50 cl beer is .85 BGN at the store cold. That’s about 48 cents Canadian. We bought a pizza for supper tonight that cost 2.50 BGN or $1.50 A whole pizza hot and good!
Right now it is vacation time here and with hot summer nights and visiting families they have a carnival with rides in the park , street vendors selling incredible ice cream and popcorn, all things we couldn’t find worth buying in Turkey.
We spent a few hours at the beach, and I talked at length with the young son of the owner of our hotel. He is an architectural technologist who can’t find work here so I was helping him with targeting a few places in Canada he might try. A nap in the afternoon was just great, some excellent Bulgarian white wine and then of course the pizza. Life is good here.
As we walk about Tsavero we notice lots of remnants of the soviet occupied era. The statues of the workers in the main square were meant to inspire hard work. In Romania after the soviet era they tore down all the statues but here they don’t have the money to replace them with any others so they remain.
Our drive through the countryside was fairly boring as the area north of Istanbul toward the border is flat and farmland. However as we crossed this area we stopped at a service station/market to buy something to eat and get out of the heat. As is customary on my part I always wave to the service staff. We picked up a large bottle of Coke and some chips. Immediately the owner, one of the pump guys brings us out to a patio table he has set up between islands and brings 2 cups for us to drink from. We sit with him, unable to converse much but we try and we offer him some pop with he declines. A few minutes later he rushes away and comes back with 2 very hot coffees for us. They are the best coffee we have had in Turkey. After telling him where we have been, and he tapping his heart with feeling, Sandra brings out an Oh Canada pin that we wanted to give Bora and we pinned it on him. You should have seen him glow.
Our drive continued north and east and into the hills heading to the Bulgarian border. What a gorgeous road and the new tire really was appreciated. Thanks again Bora ! As we reached the border though at about 2:30 pm. things changed. Here was an old Soviet style building that houses the Turkish Border Services, for which I use the term lightly. A complete departure from our previous experience.
Immediately things go south in a big way.
We check in with the first border guy, and he tells us to go inside to get the passports stamped checking out, and the vehicle stamped as well. We go to the vehicle inspection guy and he stamps us out without even inspecting the serial number on the bike. Says to Sandra he trusts Canadians. We then go to the Border Polis and we tell the guy we are leaving Turkey to Bulgaria, he stamps the passports and we return to the vehicle guy and he gives his OK and “bye bye“. We then drive to the final checkpoint where a guy examines everything for 10 mins. then says, “Problem“, and points to the stamp over the Visa. He says it says we just entered Turkey not exited Turkey and it needs changed.
We are questioning this when some Turks/Bulgarians who speak his language and English intercede and say they will help us. We go back to the Border Polis. After 20 mins of explanations and how they made the error with their stamp, he takes the ‘helpers’ aside and immediately their faces turn pale and they tell us they will be outside but they can’t help any more. I am ordered to follow him, and then bring the bike back from the checkpoint.
I come back with the bike to find him gone and Sandra standing outside. Now I’m hot figuratively and literally, and since I have dealt with customs and immigration in my past life I do not scare easily with these types. So I go after him, and he finally checks back in with the vehicle guy, and all the time they are looking at computer screens. One other border guy begins to try peeling my Visa sticker off my passport and I tell him to stop and demand he give it back. While he doesn’t return it he does stop peeling it.
In the room with the vehicle guy another guy comes in who seems to be a boss, and the border polis guy gets some kind of direction and I get my exit stamp and an apology, ‘Sorry’ its OK now‘.
So we go back to the checkpoint guy with our new exit stamps.
He again examines them for 10 mins and then says “Problem”.
I said “What now?”.
He says the border polis guy did not cancel the entry stamp and I need to go back and tell him to cancel it.
By this point there is a line up of other cars and people are huddled about his little kiosk window about 200 meters away from the main building.
I then advise the checkpoint guy that I don’t tell anybody how to do their job at the border.
Sandra pipes in:“The Border Polis guy says everything is OK“ You say its not“.
I then said “Listen if there is a problem you need to talk with the Border polis guys, I can’t tell him to do anything You call him; you talk.”
A fellow that identifies himself as an American now living in Bulgaria who has been listening in begins to say “Welcome to our life.” and that this isn’t America and these guys are nasty. Sandra says that he says to her that these guys can make you cry. So he tells me to go, and I say “ No’ Get the border polis here and talk it over‘ and with my two index fingers pointing to each other I gesticulate.
He makes a radio call but gets no response. No doubt, those guys don’t want to talk with him either. I then take off my helmet and sit on the bike, 7 cars are lined up behind me.
The American/Bulgarian then hands over his passport. The guys demands all 5 passengers passports. Then after 4-5 mins he says “Problem” and begins to tell him what his problem is and to go back. The fellow has to make about 10 cars back up by this time so he can back up but he goes. Another guy is told to go back as well for a second time. I’m just chuckling about this.
Then the checkpoint guy pretends to look at his screen for a few moments, says “Bree-aan Geeeor--jah” that’s what they think my name is, (forget the Smith) and I respond “Yes” and he hands back both passports and says “You can go”.
With that we are gone. I guess the magical cancellation stamp appeared or the passport healed itself. So that little round about took almost 2 hrs of riding time away, but as Sandra says makes for another border story that we have to tell.
We cross into Bulgaria and are welcomed back into the EU, which feels like home after Turkey, and then we look at the road ahead of us. A 1960’s paved ?? road that is barely 2 lanes wide, no shoulders, 4’ tall weeds growing into it and twisty as hell with ruts and potholes. It begins to shower a bit but nothing worth anything in the 33C heat except that it causes the road to steam. Then out of the steam comes an old green 60’s soviet style van, something that looks like the old Corvair vans of the 60’s but more bulbous coming slowly up the road. I comment to Sandra, “this is what I imagine the Transylvanian road to be like“. It takes about 1 hr to drive the 56 kms we need to make to get to our destination for the night, Tsavero. Quite the experiential day.
 |
| Tsavero in Cyrillic |
Bulgaria
We have noticed with concern how conditioned we had become in the almost month that we were in Turkey and then Greece before that. Instead of running across a street to avoid being run over, you can stroll down the middle. There is no garbage strewn about. There are garbage cans and they aren’t overflowing. There is no pushing or shoving. There is though a lot of drinking. My God a 50 cl beer is .85 BGN at the store cold. That’s about 48 cents Canadian. We bought a pizza for supper tonight that cost 2.50 BGN or $1.50 A whole pizza hot and good!
Right now it is vacation time here and with hot summer nights and visiting families they have a carnival with rides in the park , street vendors selling incredible ice cream and popcorn, all things we couldn’t find worth buying in Turkey.
 |
| Carnival at Night |
As we walk about Tsavero we notice lots of remnants of the soviet occupied era. The statues of the workers in the main square were meant to inspire hard work. In Romania after the soviet era they tore down all the statues but here they don’t have the money to replace them with any others so they remain.
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| Left over from the Soviet Occupation |
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