Istanbul

Having just spent the last two days here, I am now of the opinion that Istanbul rocks. Despite a rather shaky birthday involving hours on the truck, hours at the Turkish border, more hours on the truck and finally a cringingly embarrassing party at the tastefully named Meat House restaurant, Istanbul has more than made up for it. The town is a real melting pot, full of East and West, old and new, shops, restaurants, beggars, monks, cats and knock-offs. The Turks have a love of confrontation, using their car horns, voices, elbows and children to get their own way, but somehow also have a laid back attitude which seeps through the city.

There are so many great things to see and do here that it is hard to know where to start, and with only two days I just had a taster of this wonderful place. The Grand Bazaar is still the place for buying cool stuff, even if it has become geared up for the tourists. The shopkeepers have a mostly uncanny ability to guess your nationality and shout greetings in your language, but I got at least two "Konnichi wa"s on my travels. The Hagia Sophia and the Topkapi Palace are the standard tourist stops, and both are worth seeing, but preferably without several busloads of primary school kids.

Apart from these obvious places, just walking around the city is fascinating, with shops selling nothing but buttons, others with nothing but ribbons. My personal favourites were those down a flight of steps, in an underground passage, selling ride on lawnmowers, in the centre of Istanbul. This is a city with a not inconsiderable lack of grass, particularly underground.

The food is absolutely excellent here, I haven't eaten anything less than great in two days. In fact, I have just eaten the best cake of my life at a shop near the Hagia Sophia, I could have happily died with that cake in my mouth. However, I am fortunately still alive, so I can continue with this blog entry.

The only downside that I can see to Istanbul is that it is a real money pit of a city, I have visited the ATM more times here than in the last two weeks. I do have some tat to show for it though, so it's all good.

The pictures show the view from the rooftop bar of the hostel where I am no longer staying, having paid for a room in a guesthouse. It really is a beautiful city.

Leaving Romania, bushcamping in Bulgaria

Filthy Romania has been left behind, we are now in slightly less filthy Bulgaria, but only for one night. From what little I have seen, it is a beautiful but poor country, with snow on the tops of the mountains we just drove over. Thankfully our campsite is warmer than the mountains.

After the snow, we went past a beautiful church, which looked old but I think was finished in 2003. There were the inevitable tat sellers, but these ones were selling traditional Bulgarian rose scented items and decorations. And also furry dice, flick knives and throwing stars. Go figure.

Our new campsite is near a lake, with snow-capped mountains in the distance and a stream running by. If this sounds idyllic, that is because it is :) We even had a barbecue tonight, using wood which I helped to split. I can be useful sometimes!

Turkish border tomorrow, then Istanbul.

Tourism, Bucharest style

What a ridiculous city. The population all seem to have split personalities, one psychotic for driving, and one for everything else. This manifests itself as noise, and lots of it. Engines, horns and sirens are the soundtrack to Bucharest, with dirt and decrepitude as the backdrop. Apparently this is the Paris of the east, perhaps with a good scrub and some driving lessons it could be.

The bus into town was eventful, as we were fined for not having a ticket. This ticket is impossible to buy on the bus, and at bus stops. The nearest place where we could get a bus ticket was, of all places, the airport. So we had no tickets, and got fined by the jobsworth inspectors, who couldn't care less that we came from somewhere that had no tickets. Romanian authority sucks.

What made up for this in spades was the Museum of the Romanian Peasant. If you think that this name sounds eccentric, slightly random and of dubious quality, you would be right, but only on the first two counts. This is essential viewing in Bucharest, somehow encapsulating everything that is Romania in one slightly unhinged package. It contains a multitude of exhibits, arranged in a semblance of order, ranging from clothes to tools to a whole wooden church and windmill, all indoors. They charged 6 lei entry, and 50 lei to take photos, so we didn't pay for the photo privilege. This was a mistake, the museum is easily worth 56 lei, so much so I am considering returning tomorrow just to get some photos.

So in summary, Bucharest itself is a deranged beast of a city, with some refuges of sanity lurking within. Also some nice soup: Transilvanian sour soup.

Dogs, Dracula and digging

We had a full day in Sighisoara today, which is enough to do justice to this pretty, small town. Famed as the birthplace of Vlad Dracul, there are surprisingly few fangs and capes to be seen here. It is a real town, with businesses other than tourism, and a population with things to do other than fleece visitors. They try to make an effort to keep the old buildings in good condition, but only in the now typical Romanian manner. It is common to see satellite dishes on the sides of the buildings, "Do not walk on the grass" signs next to parched patches of weeds and boxes of junk left in the corner of the churches. This does add a certain charm to the place when you leave your Western expectaions behind, especially with the streets being a mix of tar, cobble and dirt. These streets have a significant population of dogs, whose sole purpose seems to be to look cute and receive cuddles from passers-by.

We climbed the clock tower, which is a construct only possible in this part of the world, with eerie model people who appear on the hour, wooden stairs crowded with Romanian tourists who will not give way and holes in the wall which appear to be designed for the use of boiling oil. There was a lovely view from the top.

I tell you this because the picture here is of the view from our current toilet, a toilet which one must dig with a trowel. I think this view is better.

To Bucharest, early

We've arrived in Bucharest a day early, due to not being able to find a suitable campsite. We travelled through the Transilvanian Alps to get here, which are as stunning as the name suggests, and would be absolutely heaving with sports nuts in the winter were it slightly further west.

Prior to this we visited Bran Castle, home of Mr. Dracula. I said before that Sighisoara had a pleasant lack of tourist tat. This, I now realise, is due to them all being in Bran. The whole town seems set up to sell crap to tourists, from Dracula masks to the ever popular genuine Romanian samurai sword. The Lonely Planet guide book says that you can run round Bran Castle in half an hour. This is absolutely correct, since the castle has nothing at all inside. Everything moveable has been removed and the end effect is like an open viewing of a grand old house. With really low ceilings. And people who charge you to take photos. It was a significant letdown for someone used to Crathes Castle.

There was a further exhibit after the castle: a recreation of a small traditional Romanian village. This exhibit had signs proffering information. One sign said, and I kid you not: "This is the house with the yard, known locally as "the house with the yard". It features a house, and a yard." All the signs continued in a similar vein, providing much needed hilarity to our group. Despite the amusing signs, I find difficulty in recommending Bran and its castle to others.

Sighisoara, via Turzi canyon

Romania doesn't have all that many roads. We travelled for some hours, and took literally the only turning off the road, which led up a dirt track into the hills. The lack of roads means that you pass through every settlement, and sometimes it seems that there is only one continuous village. The road into the hills led up to a section which appeared to be the entrance to a secret military installation, complete with multiple verbose signs in Romanian. Of course we just ignored the signs and carried on. Unfortunately, it was not a secret army base, but a campsite so remote and hidden that we couldn't see how it got any custom. It didn't get any more custom from us either, as we just used it as a truck park whilst we all trooped off into the surrounding hills.

The main feature of the hills was a stunning gorge with forest at the bottom, and a path which we took. This helped to illustrate something slightly unusual about Romania's inhabitants: they throw their litter everywhere and anywhere. Even this magnificent place with rubbish bins at strategic intervals had trash spread around all over the place. I am beginning to think that disdain is a national personality trait here, which extends to many aspects of life: the environment; other road users; the unfinished houses that line the roads. Perhaps it is a hangover from the communist era when it was always someone else's responsibility.

Our first bushcamp went well, and ended even better since I am writing this sitting in a hotel room in Sighisoara, having spent about £4 on a huge pizza and having had a great shower. I think that all tents should have ensuites.

Romania, greatest country in the world

One long drive later, the intrepid band arrived in the fair land of Romania: land of slightly suspect building practices, chickens and inquisitive villagers. And accommodating farmers, since we are now camping in a field, thanks to the donation of an Odyssey t-shirt and a beer.

The country is obviously poorer than those we have already passed through, but it seems to me that there is no real misery or discontent here. Those we have seen appear to be content, with a genuine family life. I don't think that this is an over generalization, as we have driven past so many houses with all the inhabitants outside having dinner as a group. Something increasingly rare in the UK.

Our family is getting used to the reality of no shower tonight, and generally coping using a process of denial. This will change to grudging acceptance by tomorrow morning, and open truck windows by tomorrow afternoon. We are such soft westerners!

Budapest and group idiocy

Beautiful weather and Budapest make a great combination. The city centre is a lovely place, even on orthodox Easter Sunday, which meant most things were shut and others were slightly odd. The shut things included most shops, which wasn't much of a hardship, but also included the funicular railway to the top of Buda Castle hill. This disappointed me greatly as the train was extra cool, and teased onlookers by carrying cement up to the top of the hill. My cement bag costume was left at home, so I wasn't allowed on.

We had arranged to meet up at the Pest side of a bridge since it was the birthday of one of our intrepid lot: Debbie. This was rather surreal, as we could see the bridge for about twenty minutes before we got to it. This in itself is not particularly surreal, but the bridge was completely full of cyclists, on both sides. When we finally reached the bridge, it was still full of cyclists, who were queueing up for a huge distance to join the, well, queue. Thousands of them kept cycling past for maybe forty minutes more, using various modes of cycly propulsion. My favourites were the people who had decided to participate, but couldn't be bothered to actually expend any physical energy, and hence had hired rickshaw drivers to take them around. Making a green statement whilst remaining upper class.

This meetup in the pub taught me a very important lesson: read your own maps. A group of 16 or so people cannot make decisions quickly, and everyone follows the person in front. This resulted in most of us going toward the wrong station on the way home. It also resulted in an irate member of our group angrily telling us this fact, and proceeding to lead us all off in another direction. Which was equally wrong. Some four of our group are still not back, it is 10:50pm. We are supposed to be leaving at 7:30am. Groups do have their downsides.

Three more countries in one day

Country no.1 is a slight cheat, as we were there last night: the Czech Republic. I can sum up the motorways there in one word: bumpy. Actually three words: annoyingly, repetitively bumpy. They are awful. Country no.2 is Slovakia: flat. Country no.3 is our current place of residence: Hungary.

So far it seems almost like just another new EU state, with Tesco, Ikea and other staples of modern life. However, I have noticed a certain undercurrent, which smells like poverty. I think that Hungary may be the tipping point between the prosperity of western Europe and the East.

This has no doubt affected our campsite, as it appears to have been something completely different in the distant past, perhaps a train station. This gives it a really offbeat atmosphere, especially when one realizes that all the camping sites are up a hill, in a forest. Whilst the essential infrastructure is well maintained, there is a plethora of derelict items lying around the site, including half a stone staircase, various ancient farming equipments, and an old ice-cream delivery truck.

Everyone here, including me, thinks that this is the coolest site we have visited so far.

Life in a truck

I guess things are settling down to some extent on Calypso, everyone is starting to understand how things work on an overland trip. We have been assigned jobs to do, most of us do them, and the jobs rotate occasionally.

My current job is Tent/Wood Packer/Unpacker. I'm quite glad I don't have a badge for that one. This job involves, well, it's self explanatory really. But we haven't had any wood yet, since we haven't done any wilderness camps yet. So my job has been that much easier. I think this will change in the next few days.

One girl, Rachel, is the Truck Wallha, which is an arcane and mystical position requiring many years of study. As she has been training for only five days, we still haven't been able to determine what this job actually entails.

We all take turns cooking, my turn has yet to arrive. So far the food has been surprisingly good, today's lunch was unexpectedly good. We stopped at a motorway service station where there was already a bus group of mainly retired German and French tourists having their lunch. They took great interest in us, as does everyone we meet, but then they gave us all their surplus food! We received a bucket of potato salad, some sauerkraut, some type of coleslaw, loads of bread and an almost whole ham. And even some dessert. It was embarrassing how much they gave us, but we ate it all gladly. If this happens every time we stop we won't need to buy any food!

I wonder whether it is ethically correct to live entirely from the generosity of strangers? I hope to be able to answer this once I have been fed by the cook group.

Prague

We're obviously going too slowly, as the rain has caught up with us. It has been pouring for most of the day, which wasn't as much of a downer as I expected. My raincoat passed its first test, and more importantly, so did our tent.

Prague was stunning, even in the rain, but you won't be able to see what I mean because my phone stayed in my pocket for the whole day. Sorry :) The city was a strange contrast between old and new, communism and democracy, gloss and grot. The centre was disappointingly touristy, with high prices, low quality and false "culture". Despite this, it still manages to be enticing and characterful. And every second car is a Skoda.

Prague is a genuine Old World city, more so than London or Paris, as it still retains the feel of its ancient past and heritage whilst adopting a certain modernity. I love it, and wish that I were here for more than one day.

Bamberg

Well I think we earned it, but today in Bamberg was 26C and blazing sunshine all day. And to top it all off, Bamberg is a fantastic town, beautiful old buildings mixed with a very cosmopolitan cafe culture which sems to attract not only tourists but local people from all around. I managed to get to Bamberg relatively early considering I was disturbed by my tent mate arriving back from a night out at 5am. He did not get to Bamberg early.

The centre had two or three proper markets going on as well, real ones with goods like fruit and veg, the sort of markets sadly missing from much of British life.

As seems to be the norm in German towns, there were multiple old churches, including the Dom. It was unsurprisingly spectacular, but not on the same scale of ostentation as the Cologne Dom.

We visited a little cafe, which also produced a great cappucino. I think the UK still hasn't grasped how to make a good coffee, even with all the baristas and cafes which popped up in the past few years. Why this is remains a mystery to me. This little cafe also furnished my two companions and me with delicious apfelstrudel in vanilla sauce, which looked suspiciously like custard. However, it was excellent, which seems to be the norm in Germany.

Bamberg has a small riverside district called "Little Venice", which doesn't really look like Venice, but is little. Apparently fishermen used to live there, and each house has its own dock. The picture above shows what I mean. Soon it will be dinner time, pork steaks, potatoes and veg apparently, so I will sign off for now.

To Bamberg

Today we finally left the fog behind, it had been constantly foggy since London, and to see further than 200 yards was a novelty. Journeying in a grey soup is less than exciting. Once the fog cleared we witnessed perhaps 5 miles of stationary traffic on the motorway, thankfully on the other side of the road. Even German traffic jams are carefully regimented.

Our new campsite has engendered a feeling of great relief amongst the travellers, since the wash block is newly renovated, and complete! With big, modern, hot showers for everyone. Good thing too, since we are here for two nights.

The campsite is full of sculptures of various subjects, and the new wash block also features an eccentric artwork, which I show you here.

Cologne

What a contrast to the first day, Cologne is a first rate city, although not without its quirks. To get here we drove for about six hours through constant mist, past a bad accident on the motorway. Rather surreal. Eventually reached the campsite, to find the wash block still under construction, with atypical German efficiency only one of the showers was working, with just cold water.

Never mind about that, what about the famous Neustrasse shopping district? Closed. And the magnificent Dom cathedral? Open, magnificent, but we were ejected by the bouncer priests due to a service taking place. They must specially train for this duty, being remarkably hard looking for priests.

The highlight of Cologne came in a most unexpected place though, the cafe opposite the Dom. This cafe made me a fantastic coffee, easily 9/10. But the highlight was not the coffee. No, it was the toilets! These were no ordinary toilets. These were toilets of excellence! Each cubicle door was clear glass, which was quite worrying until one used the lock on the door, whereupon the glass instantly frosted over. This was the German engineering I knew! Marble, glass and technology in perfect harmony, working to awe slack-jawed tourists!

These toilets were so fascinating that two ladies in our group went to video them. I, however, retained my British decorum, which is why you see instead a picture of the contrast between the masterful Dom, and its catastrophic neighbour, the Dom Platz. Also a photo of a hard-boiled Easter egg gift from a restaurant in which we dined. At least the Germans haven't lost their sense of humour.

Day 1 - Tournai

Three countries in one day sounds like a lot, but when they are the UK, France and Belgium, the reality is slightly easier. Here is a photo of our truck, Calypso, and my tent, Bill. I didn't pick the names. Calypso is too big for the campsite, but by parking rudely she was made to fit.

We have finished pitching up camp, our lovely crew have cooked us dinner (mushroom soup, spaghetti bolognese and salad, since you ask) and we are enjoying the fine Belgian evening. Everyone is getting on fine so far, even the hairy Scotsman! I haven't had the opportunity to sample the local chocolates yet, but maybe later.

Day minus 0

The accommodation on offer at the Easy Hotel London Victoria is nothing if not orange. My phone's camera cannot do justice to the trademark Easy Orange, but take my word for it, it is breathtaking. The base of the bed is also orange. As is the sink. And the shower tray. Mercifully they stopped short of installing an orange toilet, perhaps due to cost reasons. It certainly wasn't due to a surplus of good taste.

Having said all that, the room is all you need for a good night's sleep, and is considerably cheaper than a "proper" hotel. The few staff I met were all polite and courteous, and happy to help you. However, I would suggest that if you plan on staying more than a couple of nights, ensure that you get (i.e. pay for) a room with a window, as orange walls get old very quickly.

I will only be sampling the Easy delights for one night though, as the truck leaves tomorrow, 8am. Once I am out of the UK, blog updates will probably become more sporadic, as I don't know how easy it will be to post from other countries networks. We shall see.

Day minus 1 - Aberdeen

Well, I'm on my way, months of planning has come to this. The Caledonian Sleeper to Old London Town, to meet up with all the other mad people who think six months alternating between a truck and a tent is a good thing!

It was hard to leave home like this, surprisingly hard. All the preparation doesn't prepare you for actually doing it. It feels a bit like a leap of faith, a leap into the unknown.

And we're off! The train just pulled smoothly away from the platform with no warning, into the darkness. Passing the industrial estates of Torry and Cove, which look peaceful at this time of night, making the first few steps on my 10000 mile journey.

My car is two years old, and it has just completed 10000 miles. I'm doing that here, now, in six months. The distance is quite staggering, when you stop to think about it. But, as a wise man once said, a journey of a thousand miles begins with but a single step.

What to take with you when you go away for six months to countries which people have never heard of.

Let me welcome you to Part Way Round, blog of my trip with Odyssey Overland. I hope to update this as I go, local infrastructure permitting! I am due to leave on 12th April, but I thought I would tell you a bit about the sorts of things you need on trips like these. Real essentials, stuff you can't do without.

A good bag is a given, my choice is pictured here, chosen for its practicality, size, and the fact it has wheels. This allows the lazy traveller to do as little carrying as possible, whilst simultaneously making everyone else jealous.

Next up is torches. You need something small and light, which doesn't use weird batteries and won't blow the bulb every week. Hence my top choice, the Zebralight H50 head torch, paired with the Fenix LD10 pocket torch. Both use one AA battery, both use the same ultra bright LED, and both are, frankly, stonking.

Lastly, something that many people inexplicably overlook, but its absolute necessity cannot be overstated. I am, of course, talking about the electric ukulele and battery powered amp. It has always mystified me how so many otherwise sensible people flat out forget to take these essential items. What's that you say? It's not essential and anyway I don't know how to play it? I ask you. Some people have no sense of adventure.