Slept soundly and woke bright as buttons. I tootled off for a jog in my attempt to shift a few pounds (or should I say stones) whilst Craig backed up our computers and photographs on to a hard drive. Breakfast of yogurt and banana before a refreshing shower to start the day.  The Turkish border is only 40 kilometres away and we are keen as mustard to get going. 

The controversial and volatile Greek / Turkish border is well marked, and there are flags flying high on both sides to indicate a change of country. The Greek passport control is quick and within minutes we are driving through ‘no man’s land’ and over the river towards the first Turkish check point.  The half a kilometre strip of land is lined with armed Greek soldiers on one side and Turkish on the other. The Greeks frown, the Turks smile, we are off to a good start.

no mans land

We reach a checkpoint, a vehicle recognition camera scans our number plate and we enter Turkish border control zone. Then onwards a few metres to the passport control booth were a friendly police lady checks our documents and visa. We purchased our visa on-line several days ago for $20 per person but we believe you can buy here at the border for the same price. Next, customs check which takes a little while as guards rigorously check vehicle contents. We sit in Vin watching the cars in front empty the entire contents of the vehicle on to the surrounding tarmac. Our hearts sink, jeez, I hope they don’t ask us to do the same.

Quick shot…don’t like taking pics at borders, but hopefully give you a feel for what it is like.

Several tall, loose limbed and casual dressed guards walk towards us.  Its not looking great and I start to panic.  Thankfully they disperse a few feet from Vin and only one heads our way, making a brisk and unexpected turn toward our habitation door. He tries to enter but it is locked. I open and he sticks his head straight inside. Mac n Tosh are startled and go bonkers, they want nothing more than to take a chunk.  The guard mimics and barks at Mac, which make the dogs worse.  Craig steps out the van, whilst I try to calm them.  The guard requests Craig to open the garage were he prods a few things but nothing more. 

Documents to hand he peruses our passports, with more bewilderment than suspicion. Then the motorhome V5 and green card. We pass our motorbike V5 and explain we need insurance. His English is as good as our Turkish (non existent) and he constantly repeats “green card” at great speed. We match his feverish haste with a smile and “no”. Eventually, Craig is taken over to the customs booth were another guard points him over to grey building on our left. Craig shuffles over with the motorbike V5, current insurance, passport and international driving permit. He returns 10 minutes later with 3 months bike insurance for €40 (they accept Euro). 

You mean we went through all the palaver and they never looked at our passports!

The customs guard rechecks all the documents and then we are free to move to the final check point another vehicle recognition camera booth. We wait a few minutes as the policeman checks the system to make sure we have all the necessary paperwork and documents. Telephoning through to make sure there is no issue with the bike insurance.  Barriers raise and we are free to enter Turkey. Never once did they ask for the dogs passport or rabies certificate, which we found a little odd. 

So does Turkey look different? Yes, it looks very different to Greece. It looks very clean and tidy with vast plains of bright green fields. So green it looks false. We travel for miles and then realise there is no border town. No grubby pit stop selling cheap fuel, duty free and extra services for the lorry drivers. Thats a first and something we don’t miss. The dual carriage is well maintained with little or no passing traffic. We drive for miles surrounded by fields of fading sunflowers and the odd apartment block.  Its not until we hit the coast of Marmara some 100 kilometres from the border when things come to life.  

The coastal town of Tekirdağ is a fairly pleasant place with an attractive waterfront and plenty open space, walk ways and gardens. We are too busy soaking up all the new information like road signs, parking options, garages, fuel prices, LPG, supermarkets, speed cameras and fresh water taps to notice any tourist stuff. Our brains are going 10 to the dozen.  We take a break and stop at a Shell garage. The attendant is swift and friendly and brims us with both diesel and LPG. Vin is treated to V-Power because it is the same price as regular diesel at 85p litre. LPG work out around 50p litre. 

The coastal town of Tekirdağ

The fuelling experience is slightly unique because your registration details are logged in to the pump prior to filling. Once full, you are handed a little piece of paper, which in turn you hand to the cashier. You pay and the cashier hands you another piece of paper, which you must return to the fuel attendant to log your details out the pump.  A bit of a faff but its one way to reduce fuel crime, which we assume is the reason for logging the details? 

Much of the coast is taken up by estates and complexes of concrete holiday homes. All uniform in their appearance with very little distinguishing marks or architectural features. Another 150 kilometres and we arrive in the chaotic and manic mega city of Istanbul.  Eight lanes of traffic with a myriad of entrances and exits stuffed to the gills with vehicles. We crawled along the highway, bobbled along the back streets, got confused at every junction and went round in circles a few times. Jeez what a nightmare.

Still 30km to the centre and already its building up

Eventually, after driving down the same one way street so many times, I say  “Well, I think we should ignore the GPS Craig, it clearly hasn’t got a bloody clue just like us”. By now, the shop vendors are beginning to come to their doorway and wave like they know us. Craig gives me one of his famous looks. I think I ought to keep my gob shut. I sink in to my chair and brace for take off.

Somewhere in the middle of that lot…It got manic

We have spent the last 4 years driving across Europe but no place is as manic as Istanbul. Credit to Craig for keeping a cool head and getting us through the chaos without a scratch or swear word! Even though I did save him from going down the same one way street for a fifth time although him won’t admit it, We head for Kennedy Caddasi Sports Parking but the confusing road layout causes us to miss the turning.  After eight hours on the road we pulled in at the next camper contact stop just a few kilometres further, Otopark Kennedy Caddasi. Secure parking with barrier system and at £3.60 for 24 hours it will do nicely for tonight.

A note for anyone heading this way…make sure you head for the coastal route. It is much quicker, less traffic and not as confusing. The GPS will probably direct you the short way through the city centre, which is a bloody nightmare.

Our Bumble paid camping spot Istanbul N041.001590, E028.977378

We arrive at our first place in Turkey. Its quiet late in the day and although we are dying to explore we’re tired and hungry. A simple meal of beans on toast, a cold beer and a hot shower. Full and refreshed we have a quick walk along the sea front and then retire to the comfort of our bed.