Barricades on the road
24.11.2004 | N Syria
Night, darkness, a wide dark strap of asphalt with no lines in front of me, the cruise control set at a 100 km/h, the end-outline marker lamps of the trailer in my mirrors. High beam lights in front, it is half past three. What is that in the distance? Is everything ok? The sleepless nights, all the worrying over the malfunctions, and the long night ride across the Turkish-Syrian border have left me feeling a little drowsy.
Shit!!! The road is ending!!! All of a sudden I find myself in front of two-meter piles of gravel across the entire width of the »highroad«. No sign, no lights, no warning. And there I am, with the cruise control set at a 100 and the trailer behind me, going directly towards them! For the third time in my life the engine died on me because of braking but at least we survived. Time to take a nap.
With friends again
24.11.2004 | Adana, Turkey
The one thing that saved me was the inertia of the car and the trailer that managed to get me to the side of the road, even though the engine died on me while my front wheels were only slightly ahead of the bus and while the approaching van was violently flashing his lights and the bus was slamming on the brakes. On the way to Adana, which is merely 230 km away from the Syrian border, the car died seven times more but I still managed to get to the service station, where I've – unfortunately - become almost a regular by now.
My New Home: Damascus – نازلي الجديد: دمشق
23.11.2004 | N Turkey
The southeast wind is cutting in my face, creeping through my jeans and my motorcycle jacket. The faint yellow light, shining on the front ramp, reveals the rough sea in front of the ferry. I’m standing under the bridge, a dim red light of the port side is glowing above me, as I watch the lights of the coast that seem to be moving too fast. How fast are we travelling, anyway? I left the GPS in the car and I don’t really feel like going to the car deck and climbing over all the cars, vans, and trucks, only to get a meaningless piece of information. I’d much rather savour the moment and watch the lights of the port we’re steadily getting closer to, feeling a combination of anxiety and excitement. I’m only moments away from unloading all my cargo – my car, the trailer, and a KTM – and starting out to Asia, the continent that will be my home for the next couple of months.
Ljubljana - the goal has been reached
14.2.2004 | Ljubljana, Slovenia
Maribor – Ljubljana: 99 days, 23.752 kilometres, 1.819 litres of fuel, Slovenia plus 13 other countries, three ferries, three continents, new friends, sun, warm sea, sand, working donkeys, Elissa and Omar Diab, traffic chaos in Damascus and Cairo, kebab on İstanbul street, desert sunrise, half day sandstorm, waiting on Libyan border, incredible archaeological sites, waking up under palm tree branches… the list could keep on until September 28th.
Ski centre Kanin – it's so cold!!!
13.2.2004 | Bovec, Slovenia
Still in the middle of the night Peter and I left South-western part of our small country and headed for the ski-resort Kanin in western Slovenian Alps. We were disappointed by Slovenian police-officers we were seeing on our way – there was absolutely no response on our honking, waving and greeting. They didn't even shout behind us "Welcome to Slovenia!" Sad, very sad. We're home again. The only bright exemption was border police-officer Igor that awaited us on entering Slovenia, bought us a coffee and welcomed us back home after so much time out of Slovenia.