Down, but not out…

Getting out of Iran is proving to be more difficult than getting in. Imagine my surprise when arriving at the huge port of Bandar e Abbas to find out that it was closed for the Persian New Year holiday celebrations. I was told to use this exit route to Dubai after my Pakistan visa was rejected, leaving me no choice but to ride 2,300km across this arid, hostile landscape to the southern tip of the country, where the United Arab Emirates is within striking distance, just several hours away by boat across the Persian Gulf.

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The kindness of strangers — and the sense of community

I’m proud to say that I’ve made it into Iran safely, having been chased by rabid dogs, held up at numerous military checkpoints and nearly flattened by huge trucks bearing down on me while I tried to stay upright in a blizzard. The thought of having ridden there all the way from the UK in 11 days is hard to fathom. One thing’s for sure though: I couldn’t have done it without the support of the adventure biking community, who have made things happen for me in a way I never could have alone.

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“Papers please!”

Or at least I think that’s what the Turkish police guard said, only without the ‘please’. I’m on the outskirts of a shit-hole town called Yuksekova and really close to the Essendere-Sero border, where my Iranian ‘fixer’ is waiting for me on the other side. He has told me several times that I have to get to the border by 4pm or I won’t get through, it’s now 3pm and I’ve been held here for an hour already.

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By ‘eck I’ve made it to Bulgaria

Finally, I’m waking up to beautiful, blue skies after six days of the kind of weather I’d hoped to leave behind in the UK. I’ve had the deepest sleep I’ve had in weeks and have woken up with the satisfaction of knowing I’m 3,500 kilometres into my journey, the Turkish frontier is just half an hour away and I’m well on track to making it to the Iranian border on time. Continue reading By ‘eck I’ve made it to Bulgaria

A rollercoaster ride of emotions

Talk about cutting it fine. It’s the day before I’m due to leave family, friends, home and everything I know for the round-the-world trip of uncertainty and I’m sitting here in a mild state of panic waiting for the postman. You see my Carnet de Passage still hasn’t arrived and I can’t leave home until it gets here. Passport aside, it’s probably the most important document I’ll be carrying, because I can’t get the bike into certain countries without it. Continue reading A rollercoaster ride of emotions