Bucharest to Edirne, Turkey

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How you would ever get out of these Eastern European cities before the days of GPS I will never know. What saved me at the beginning of the day let me down later on after the battery ran out and I went around in circles in SE Bulgaria. You can cross Bulgaria in ½ a tank of BMW gas if you don’t get lost. The roads were better here for the most part and blessedly less traffic. It was Sunday, but I am certain there is less in any case. The roads were fast and with a funny rough texture that made me think of skin rash, but I put that thought aside.

The other blessing in Bulgaria is that large towns had by-passes and so I only skirted around Sliven and Yambol on my pretty north- south route which started when I crossed the Romania - Bulgaria boarder at Ruse. There was a border guard here, but he never even opened by British passport. I have not used my US passport figuring the British is the lesser of two evils in this part of the world. I guess that wonderful coat of arms on the front of the passport was enough. Reminded me of a James Bond movie, perhaps not quite a license to kill, but certainly a license to travel. Of course in the good old days we had those hardback black British passports that spoke of a man (or woman) of mystery. The sun must be hotter than I thought with these thoughts.

The highlight of today’s ride was the Balkan mountains; similar to the Carpathian mountains in Romainia they run east west and so it was necessary to pass through. A little less rugged than the Carpathians, the road tended to go up and over rather than follow the river valleys. Stopped at a lunch spot on one of the peaks and had the pleasure of Bulgarian hospitality. It took significant grunting and gesturing to get anything to eat and the fact I could not read the menu or had anything but Euros was a double wammy. I did manage to get a ham and cheese something to tide me over. These people (as are many eastern Europeans) are considered to be fateful. Hey I only quote the guidebook. I translate that as - see the negative in everything. This certainly true of my departed Ukranian mother-in-law. I was clearly negative personified, but my battle worn travelling psyche was having none of it - it was like water off a ducks back. I ate gave them an invisible finger and moved on.

Encountered some very rough roads while getting lost trying to find the Turkish border. I was not on the main A1 road leading to Turkey from Sofia, but my goal was to find it. On remote roads there is only road signs in Cyrillic alphabet and I was at a total loss at remembering what the translation was. I eventually found Svilengrad and my way.

As I approach the Bulgaria - Turkey border there were literally thousands of trucks waiting to cross - thank goodness for two wheels and maneuverability. But my problems were about to begin. Passport control was a breeze, but as I went through there was another passport control ahead. The first one was to get out of Bulgaria, the second was to get into Turkey. I was now in no-mans land. Over the next two hours I discovered I had no visa and the fact the paper I had on the bike was different than the name on my passport was a big problem. Finally showing them a rental sheet with the same name as the bike document and they bought the idea that it was a rental and for 15 euros I got an insurance permit. I cant imagine what that would provide if something did happen. Then I paid another 15 Euros for a visa and then to another place to get a stamp and back to square one. And so it went, I was a steel ball in an ancient pinball machine. Finally one good flip and I was on my way.

Only 270km from my destination now. Excited by my first mosque right there at the border, but two tired to press on. Opted for the border town of Edirne and found a pretty good hotel with an all night guard to keep an eye on the bike all for 35 Euros. Tomorrow I would reach my destination.

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