The 7 hour boat trip from Bari (Italy) to Durres (Albania) was relatively peaceful and relaxing. I had the cabin to myself so a good few hours sleep was had.
I arrived in Albania at 9.00am and was eager to make a dent into Eastern Europe. After an hour was wasted finding maps and Albanian currency I began my cycle towards the Macedonian border. About 3 hours in, I came across a fellow Cross Country cyclist (Greg from Switzerland). We cycled through Elbasan and spent most of the afternoon together until Greg decided set up camp for the night at around 5.30pm. With still a few hours of daylight left I was still eager to continue towards Macedonia. The night soon came along with a heavy thunderstorm. With little options of a convenient place to set up camp I was forced to cycle through the Albanian mountains with the only light exposing my path being the lightning. I was fortunate to come across a small restaurant with the owner offering me a place to sleep, spaghetti, few cold beers and a seat in front of the fireplace. Perfect!
I began cycling down the west coast of Macedonia beside Lake Ohrid, making my way through Karch towards Bitishiti. Very beautiful! I arrived at the Greek border at 5pm with a sunny sky above. Very excited to have conquered one country and beginning another. The customs officer at the Greek border explained to me that it was 40kms to the town of Florina. He also said that there was a big hill that went for roughly 8kms, followed by a long descent.
I stupidly assumed two things. One was his definition of a steep hill was nothing compared to the hills I had already climbed. Two, he over-exaggerated the distance of the hill. If anything he was being modest.
The hill was just under 10kms in distance, and the gradient was 12%. To give you an understanding of how steep 12% is, the bike would come to a complete stop with every rotation of my pedals. The clouds came over me shortly after my ascent, and the storm and night soon followed. I was climbing that hill for a little under 3 hours, with the only light to show my path being the lightning flashes and the odd car headlights.
I reached what seemed to be the top of the mountain after battling a slow puncture and icy roads by approximately 10pm. It was there, that I came across a ski lodge, and beside it a restaurant. The Ski lodge was not in any way helpful and I was told to turn back and travel down the hill 2kms, to find accommodation. I felt so passionate about the kilometers achieved; especially those uphill, that I refused to backtrack to perhaps risk not finding the accommodation.
I then went next door to the restaurant, where I had to compose myself before entering as tears of fear began to develop. I took a deep breath and said out aloud, “I am going to attract what I need”. The restaurant was only serving one table of 17 people, which was fortunate at the hour. I made myself look as presentable as possible and then approached the waitress. In broken English, and a little help from a gentleman sitting at the table, I begun explaining my predicament. Having just crossed from Albania, I was without any currency and the restaurant did not accept any form of plastic. I was again very close to tears when a gentleman from the table stood up, interrupted me, and said, “I have read about your story”.
My first instincts were that he was mistaken. He then continued to describe details of my trip that proved he had indeed read about me. I had put my story on a website for travelers called couchsurfing.com. It was here that ‘Vassillis’ and some of his friends had read about my story. He then insisted on paying for my night’s accommodation, and also my dinner. I was blown away. I was escorted upstairs to the cabin suite, where I had a quick shower before joining them at the table just as the mains were being served. What an amazing evening.
I awoke early the next morning, and repaired Wilson’s back tire. I filled my water bottles, oiled Wilson, and was on my way. Funnily enough, it was all down hill to the town of Florina (24kms). Stunning! I then made my way along the Greek Riviera spending nights in Thessoloniki, Kavala, and Alexanderpouli. before reaching the Turkey border. I had a small run in with a Turkish truck driver at the border which nearly cost me my life, but turned out fine in the end. Roads in Turkey were long, straight, hilly and scenic. The weather was fantastic. As dusk was falling, I was shown some of Turkeys beautiful countryside. The motorway into the city, was extremely difficult for Wilson and I. As I drew closer, my excitement grew, and my focus dropped forcing me to take a moment off my bike. I regained my focus and tackled on the remaining 15 chaotic kilometers, before arriving to my destination.
I did it. London to Istanbul.
6113kms
57 Days
116 Eaten flies
Numerous bottles of wine
561 photos
2hrs 31mins video footage
Many friends for life
Words truly are inadequate to describe this experience, but if I had to choose one, Magical.
