x360 Journal

I joined Jason on 17 August having flown with my bike from London to Istanbul and then caught the coach to Edirne, 300km NW of Istanbul. Edirne is tucked in the NW of Thrace, the part of Turkey in Europe right up against the Greek and Bulgarian borders. For quite some time it had been the capital of the Ottoman Empire and there are some stunning mosques. My favourite is the Old Mosque with its giant black calligraphy murals.

I met Jason at the bus terminal out of town and the years dropped away although my kid cousin was certainly more than just that now. After one and a half days of Jason zipping around and staking his pitch on "the Great Circumnavigation Debate" on the computer and me doing a complete indolent unwind between the mosques, the hotel and various tea houses we set off for "Bulgaristan". Jason went up the street, I went nowhere. The pedals spun to no avail. Dear British Airways had targeted my bike with a suitcase and had twisted a chain link. Thank God Jason had the right tool and knew how to use it (no funny ideas please). Within minutes the chain had one less link in it but it worked just fine. The local traffic warden even came over to give us some sliced melon to eat from the husk.

At 5, we set off. Not far down the road, we met the first of a line of parked lorries, mostly Bulgarian, Turkish and Moldovan. The queue went of for several kilometers, as far as the border. We were then joined by loads of spacewagons mostly, it would appear, containing Turkish "guest workers", returning to Germany, Holland or Belgium for the school term.

We passed through any number of passport checks. We even had our tyres sprayed with disinfectant twice. The second time the Bulgarians were charging a tax to the car drivers.We were now in the EU (as so many signs said) and Christendom. Immediately everything looked a lot more impoverished and tatty. We stuck on the main road heading East - West through the middle of Bulgaria.

Until today (20th) all we saw was the road itself and the parched countryside beyond. Humanity and the Bulgarian culture was out of sight. Some interesting birdlife: shrikes and turquoise backed rollers perched on wires and tumbling over fields. There was no place to eat, drink or buy provisions. We could have killed for a bottle of Bulgarian plonk (it even sounds like a Bulgarian word). Once the sun was down, we pitched our tents off the road among some young poplars. Jason cooked up a delicious mash of pasta and soup and we guzzled our water. We were joined by a host of small creatures, including a praying mantis which landed in Jason's grub.

After an hour's cycling this morning, we stopped at an ersatz Little Chef and tucked into chicken nuggets and kebabs while admiring the physiques, not insubstantial, of the locals of both genders. Outside, a man was selling cheeses the size of a drum. The world of Borat did not seem so fictitious. Now, it's early afternoon, we have cycled through temperatures in the mid 30s and Jason is sound asleep under a lime tree in what passes as a village rest area.

Merlin Lewis

Posted on August 20, 2007 1:44 PM