From Montengro to Slonenia (pre-Alps)

 

First, but certainly not least an update is in order for 'Beardtacular'. As you may or may not have noticed; from the start of this trip I have been attempting to grow some facial hair in the form of a cozy beard. The reason behind this is merely to look cool and to be a 'real' adventurer. After all the beard is a useful tool; it is a good place to store food, keeping warm and most importantly to look masculine and attract. Unfortunately for me; my beard doesn't achieve any of these qualities after 21 days of growth. What do you think?

Handsome, hey?

As 3 weeks has passed, and 21 nights in a tent have been endured (some of which were most uncomfortable); I have a new frame of mind of what I see as a luxury item/good now. Firstly, backrests are completely under-rated, I would kill for one, when I am camping after a long day's cycle; soft soil is a definite luxury item and to have some nice dead leaves is a Brucey bonus (I don't have my bubble wrap mattress anymore. The bubbles popped.) this keeps me nice a warm at night. I don't know about you, but a nice plate goes amiss when you are stuck in a tent - you kind of have to get used to accepting that you are going to eat off the floor. It keeps your immune system on it's toes though!

One of the not so good wild camp spots - in Croatia (land of the rocks)

To give my opinion on some of the countries I have visited. Montenegro is absolutely stunning - the bays and mountains are lush, and very severe - which I love; it is an untouched less untouched Croatia. The British clearly don't know about this because I didn't see one GB car, while I was there.

Bay in Montenegro, near Bar

Croatia was over-rated and extremely touristy, which I didn't particularly like. Dubrovnik was full of backpackers and overcrowded and I didn't think it was overly special. Split was even worst. Not as beautiful and full of tourists - I couldn't even get a bed in one of the 15 hostels they had there! The coastline of Croatia is still stunning with picturesque islands and extremely warm sea. There was plenty of diving spots for me to practice my 1.5 flip with a half twist also; I messed it up a few times.

My diving platform in Croatia

Slovenia (before the Alps) is so-so. Ljubljana was C***. Not so much to see for the capital city and not as beautiful as I was expecting. I was intending to stay a night but instead I cycled the extra 80km to get to Lake Bled, which I recommend to anyone - more on the Alps in my next post.

Maybe not the size of Fawley, but the location contends! (Croatia Rijeka)

To give you the animal update: a gigantic insect in Montenegro with a large spike on its tail - was an interesting one. Also I saw a lot of living tortoises. Yes, that's right; living! A nice picture of a bird as well.

'Twas the size of ma hand

A tortoise

"Who's a pwetty birdy"

Will try and upload the most up to date routes onto Strava in the next few days.

 

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Do it Albanian Style!

 

Again the countries that people tend to avoid, are all the more better than the tourist hotspots. The media has put dark light onto these places and they have so much to offer.

A lake on the east side of Albania

The first Albanian I met after crossing the border "Welcomed" me to his country, which is a small but very powerful gesture.

And when I realised my front rack rivot had broken again (the other side this time), I was beginning to take the rack off to try and improvise something to get the rivot out. Within minutes, a middle-aged Albanian man came running over to see what I was up to. His English was fantastic (he explained he learnt this on TV, along with Italian and Greek). He worked in the local hotel and came back with some tools to make my job easier, after we realised we couldn't botch it. He got on the blower to a metals gate maker. This chap kindly drilled the rivot out and replaced it with a nut and bolt, shook my hand and that was it. Within 15 minutes it was fixed!

The food is very manly...

There is a large segregation between the poor and the rich in Albania. You notice this as soon as you enter the country. There are child beggers at the border, which contrast massively with the abundance of E class Mercs and posh houses that you see. One thing that did surprise me is that the poor were still getting about on horse/pony and cart (I felt bad getting photos, so haven't got the evidence unfortunately). Through Tirane, I also witnessed the slums and on two occasions dogs ran out into the road and I had a few near-misses... A crazy city.

The lakes on the east side of Albania are things that dreams are made of. The water is crystal clear and is as still as to appear like glass. There is also a fantastic mist that lurks in the middle and tall green mountains that surround it. It is a place that would be perfect for a LOTR movie.

Alongside the lake from LOTR

Why pay for the fish treatment. Come to Albania and get it free. Sorry Soph

Apart from the lakes the Mountains are spectacular.

Hair-pinned climb up to Tirane

The view from the top, with some of the locals

Must get on Sophie and ride or I'm not going to get anywhere. Over and out.

 

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The three S's - Sun, Sea and Cycling

 

It's been a while since my last blog post and a lot has happened since then: including cycling the whole way through Greece and into Albania; becoming a pyrotechnic in the woods of Kallish and closely being ravaged by two guard dogs. Not forgetting a few punctures.

A lake that near to where I wild camped in north-west Turkey

Where to start?

Greece. One of the great things about Greece is no more than it is a host to one of my favourite supermarkets - Lidl. In the past 4 days I have been treating myself to no end of scrumptious goodies and a good example of one of my hearty breakfasts is shown below - not the healthiest, but don't worry about that. The total calorific content of the pictured, comes in at over 2000 calories.

Whole loaf filled with Phili and salami, a choco mouse a whole pack of biccies and a bottle of pepsi

Another great thing about Greece is the women. Turkish women weren't best and I barely saw them because of the sexism in Turkey. Greece brings beaches. Beaches bring women. This is good for motivation and morale for a tired 22 year old on a push-bike.

Greece also brings fantastic views of valleys, mountains and the Greek riveria.

Life's a beach!

Greek riveria

A few things I'm not overly keen of about Greece are: Firstly the complete incompetence lack of respect of all guard dog owners. The casual passer-by (of the slower variety) have to fend these brutes off and the further you go off the beaten track, the more there are. On one particular occasion at around 16:30 (the become more active as the day cools off), two dogs gave chase to Sophie and I for around 200 metres. The smaller of the two listened to the beckoning of the owner; although the other saw red and had rage in his eyes and his teeth were presented as to give someone (being me) a good hiding. Luckily it was I had a tailwind and I managed to crank the speed up high enough to get away. Unfortunately I didn't see the railway track in time; Thump. Another puncture prevailed!

In the future I carry around the dog slayer (a decent sized stick) and I will show no mercy on these b*******!

Some Greek architecture - plenty around.

Another experience I had in Greece was that of starting a small bushfire. The way this came about was when I was cooking up my spinach and cheese tortellini with the methelated gel I got from Turkey. After waiting a good 10 minutes for the 400mls of water to boil; I was getting bored and hungry and put the tortellini in, despite the water not being overly hot. After another 5 minutes, I noticed the fuel was running low. Instead of waiting for the stove to cool I topped it up while it was on still hot. Next thing I knew, the bottle had exploded and highly flammable gel was all over the dry dead grass. Immediately I started stamping the fire out. Then, turned round to realise my shorts and the bag for my stove was also on fire. Eventually I put everything out and inspected the damage. Wasn't too bad, but the lesson was learnt - never fill up a hot stove and clear an area for the stove that is bigger than required.

My burnt stove bag :(

Out of the 14 nights I have had the pleasure of wild camping on most. To give you an idea of some of the locations I have been sleeping at check out the pictures below:

Camping at the beach in Greece

Camping on a pass near Florina in North-Western Greece

An update on the wild animal watch; below are pictures of a 12 foot snake with a 6" wasp having a go at it and a tortoise... Shell.

Dead, I'm afraid.

 

Dead, I'm afraid

It made a good picture though

In the end, I passed on Mount Olympus and headed north to some of the taller passes. 5000ft of sweat and tears below.

Pass near Florina in Greece

 

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Rocking out to Islamic Prayer!

 

I wanted to further elaborate on the machine I'm spending most of my time with.

Sophie. I give all my bikes names, it's the first thing I do when I get a new one and most of the time they have the same first letter of the manufacturer. I suppose it's similar to people giving the cars names - it's not that odd is it?

Turkish breakfast

One of the interesting things about Sophie is she is her on little power station: the front hub (or left kneecap) generates enough power to keep my GPS, iPad, phone and iPod juiced up - cool huh. Another thing people may find interesting is that the frame itself is steel tubing, rather than aluminium. There is a good reason for this, even though steel is three times heavier than alu; it provides a dampening characteristic than no aluminium frame could match. A small compromise on weight, means I can "ride Sophie" for "harder and longer" than ever before!

Sophie's not scared.

Another big change I made from the last tour is to cut weight down to a minimum. This means thinner tyres, which unfortunately means, more punctures; a lightweight groupset; chamois leather for drying myself, pans and clothes and instead of using pannier bags, I use stuff sacks which reduces weight by 2kg. This doesn't sound a lot, but cumulatively I've reduced the weight by over 10kg, which is a hefty amount when you're powering up a mountain pass.

 

An early morning rise

My bad streak of punctures continued and I would even go as far to say - "got worse". I had got as far as improvising my tent repair patches to try and avoid a further flat. Nothing worked and in the end the 20+ mile walk to Izmir, seemed like the only option. I started to walk and without the cool breeze, my entire body was covered in beads of sweat within 200 metres. Instead, I stuck my thumb out. Within 2 minutes or just over 10 cars, somebody pulled over. Sahir helped me chuck Sophie into the back of his truck. The stench in the back was unbearable - it stung the nostrils; although it was a damn sight better than walking. I would have guessed he was a sheep farmer and he'd clearly locked his flock in the back for the past few month's without cleaning them out.

He took me to an Oto Lastik shop, which to me and you, is a tyre repair place for cars. This proved to be useless. After a few calls, Sahir had found out where the local crazy bicycle guy lived.

A short plump-looking Turk greeted us. Definitely had to many pies in his time. Even though he looked like the kind of guy you would want for a Grandad. He was so enthusiastic to help and hailed his "woman" down - his words, not mine; to cook us up some breakfast and pop a brew on. While he fixed the tyre and the front rack (the rivet had snapped off), he talked about his love for bikes and proceded to show me his vast collection of girls - he was quite a pimp. He had enough bikes in his garage and once-before bathroom to get half of Izmir on the road.

Ahmed and his girls

After he finished, he bid me farewell and when I offered him some money, he rejected it and said "No problem".

Beach break

I only found out yesterday the exchange rate between Turkish Lira and Sterling. To my surprise I was getting 3 Liras for every pound; before I found this fact out, I treated Lira as if it was of the same value as the Euro and was pleased to find out I had spent less than 50 quid in 8 days :O

Heading down to Cannakale

 

Last night I had the pleasure of sleeping outside a mosque. This came about when I got chatting to a local roadside seller, who's brother owned it. He sorted me out enough fruit to last me a few days for the monstrous price of 17p or 0.50 Lira and gave me directions to the mosque.

To say I got a good night's sleep would be a lie. Every few hours, Islamic prayer was blasted out of the loudspeakers at a similar noise level to a nightclub. This went on till about midnight and then they gave me 5 hours break before an especially prolonged prayer at the crack of dawn.

The local Mosque

The route is now uploaded onto strava for anyone who may be interested.

 

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Bloody Hell, it's Hot!

 

 

A stupidly quick drive from Norwich to Stansted meant Dad and I had a few hours to kill; what better way to spend it than slurping on one last cold beverage before the slog began. Dad had to balance the Karma from his good deed and thought it was only fair that he dumps me on the side of the road and leave me to lug my bike box and all my gear a km to the terminal. This saved the grand total of 2 quid, which is daylight robbery in my opinion; therefore I forgive him (I would have done exactly the same :D).

Getting the stuff on the plane went suprising well, I didn't have to rip my bike box open to justify all of my wonderful designs to the miserable guard. In true English style, I worked my way into a huge Abbot Ale and Steak pie at Spoons - Brother Brown would have been proud!

Lindsay would be proud!

Arrived at Antalya at 03:30 local time, and had 3 hours to kill so what better to do than have a little kip on the benches - in true tramp's style. Once it got to about 06:00 I thought I had better get moving so started to unpack my bike and one of the local guards ran over, of which I thought he was going to explain I couldn't build my bike there, but instead grabbed an Allen key and started whipping things together and ripping the packaging off - good lad.

My bed for the night

I changed into my kit in a lovely bush near the airport and got on my way. My first impressions where "where the hell am I meant to go" and "bloody hell it's hot", closely followed by "f*** me, look at the size of that hill, you don't get those in Sunny Norwich"

House fire with local news crew

Some of the hills I have had to face

 

The first day brought 1000ft climbing per 10miles and I climbed the equivalent of 2 Ben Nevis'. The scenery is fantastic, there are lot's of water stops to top up bottles - actually, I hope that water is clean. Fingers crossed. The roads are the width of a small runway and to my surprise there isn't much traffic.

After spending the full day in Turkey, I can see why so many people online recommend it as a great country to cycle in. The people here are fantastic; on a number of occasions I have been offered lifts up these monstrous climbs, given free Turkish tea at the petrol stations and just a general interest in what I am doing and friendly locals.

Local tea, free from the petrol station

 

Now to settle down in my pleasant little quarry , with my bubblewrap mattress and pasta with tomato sauce. Living the dream...

Camping for the night

A big thank you to Stephen Whitlam (Dad) for taking us to the airport and treating us to a cold beverage.

A fantastic sunset to finish off the day

 

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One puncture, two puncture, three puncture, four

 

Yes, you read that correctly. After just 5 days, I have had a 100% hit ratio, whoop whoop! The funny thing is that it hasn't been from thorns, glass or sharp stones - it's been from snake bites... No, not actual snakes. It's a cycling term, when your rim pinches the tyre when you ride over a stone/bump and it gives two holes that look like a snake bite - hence the name.

Classic example of a snake bite

To top that off, I've had 4 flats from the same location because of the heat is melting the glue in the repair kit. O, that reminds me; that one spare inner tube I had was actually the wrong size! Thanks PedRev for labelling your tubes incorrectly - in the end I extracted the valve body for spares and cut a slither out for a patch JIC.

 

So, about Turkey. As you all know, one of the greatest things about visiting a new country is experiencing it's food. Turkey has not let me down. The kebabs here are second to none - I would go as far to say that they are even better than the ones you get after a heavy night on the juice; adding to that they even smell and look good - Have you ever seen a kebab that looks good? Furthermore, the Turks treat every meal as a challenge; which suits me. They bring an endless supply of freshly baked bakalava, which is pitta on a bigger scale, this is to soak up all the condiments they can't help but spread over and around your food. The only time I have ever felt fuller, is after an all-you-can-eat curryhouse on the outskirts of Wolverhampton!

I have to mention once again how hospitable the Turks are; only yesterday the local farmer caught me pitching a tent in his delightful field ;). Instead of shoo-ing me off his land and threatening to get his 40 year old shotgun fromoff the wall. He informed me that I should be careful of snakes in the grass, by gesturing a wiggly thing, then pinching me on the leg; closely followed by pointing at the grass. I found this information useful, yet it isn't the thing you really want to hear when you know you will be pitching in fields very similar to this one for the next week. He also pointed me in the direction of his local fresh water source and he relished the glory of sharing this fact. To finish it off he picked some Turkish fruit from a tree; handed it to me and jumped straight back on his tractor, not expecting a dime - good lad! I have also been given free Turkish Delights from a shop keeper, fresh fruit from a road-by trader and tea from just about everybody.

Pamakkale

You don't get that type of welcome in London!

Fresh fruit from the farmer

Now to get on to some of the animals I have had the pleasure of meeting are as follows: 'Rabid' dogs, coming at me like flys on s***; thousands of mozzis, flys and ants, who just love to snuggle up to me at bed time; a few bearded dragons; a couple of lizards; hundreds of dead 'rabid' dogs - these smell delectable; a dead tortoise that got stuck in the melting tar in the midst of the day; last but not least, a Praying Mantis, which I nearly trod on while pitching my tent.

A Praying Mantis - Deadly I've heard.

Stuck in the tar

 

What song does this remind you of?

In the next few days my routes should be on Strava - follow the link on the first blog. On one particular day, a tractor pulled me along for 20+ miles. This wan't as great as it sounds; mainly because I had to chip the thick layer of soot off my face and the temperature behind it was comparable to Mount Doom...

Tan lines like never before.

 

Over and out.

 

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