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.

Continue reading The kindness of strangers — and the sense of community →

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.

Continue reading “Papers please!” →