Singapore to Ireland
From Asia to Europe by Motorcycle
The Project
I am riding a motorcycle from Singapore to Ireland in support of the Lotus Children’s Centre in Mongolia.
Read more about the work of Lotus and my route on the About & Donate pages.
You can support the children of Lotus and my ride across Asia and Europe, by making a donation to Lotus Children’s Centre through Virgin Money giving.
Thank you for your support.
31st August 2014 28-35℃ 238km
Van – Muş
I started the day visiting ‘breakfast alley’ in Van, a collection of streetside stalls, serving up delicious small dishes, like tapas, of breakfast delights. Cheese, fresh honey, olives, bread, fried eggs, and of course copious amounts of strong Turkish tea. I picked a stall and was immediately taken by the arm by the waiter, who guided me around, arm-in-arm until he found me a place to sit. Tea was served, followed by a selection of dishes. The table of Turkish ladies next to me tried to start a conversation, even feeding me some of their food, until one of the older ladies suggested I should get together with her friend… I quickly closed that offer down, finished my delicious breakfast and headed back to the hotel to pack the bike.
Riding out of Van, past the lake was a very enjoyable ride and I made good time. One of the major hazards in Turkey, aside from the drivers, is the roads in the towns. They seem to wash the roads with soapy water from a truck, but they never rinse the soapy water off the road. The result is that the road is permanently slippery. It is seriously dangerous on a bike, and I’ve locked up the front wheel on more occasions than I want to remember. Sometime even putting a foot down at the traffic lights, causes a skipped heartbeat as my foot slides out under the weight of the bike.
Arriving in Mus, I found a great, cheap hotel right in the centre of the main street, and the guy on reception suggested I park my bike in the lobby. Score again.
I headed to a nearby cafe for dinner, where the waiters & waitress all pointed out that I look like a Turkish actor, again. Showing me a photo of the actor that I supposedly bear some resemblance to. This was all good fun, until one of the waiters came over and showed me a message using Google Translate, that said “You are very handsome” To which I said Thank You. A few minutes later he reappeared with a new translated message which read “I’d like to be your oral”
I don’t know exactly what this was supposed to mean, but I’m guessing it was an attempt at a pick-up, using Google Translate. Probably the first time I’m been hit on this was thanks to Google. Thinking he was just having a joke, I laughed off this proposition, only to see the look on his face. He disappeared and I was served by a different waiter from then on. Fortunately the food was excellent, and after a good meal I headed back to the hotel for an early night.
29th August 2014 33℃ 155km
Tabriz – Urmia
After pushing my bike out of the lobby of the hotel, where it was parked last night, I was headed out of Tabriz city, when I passed a fresh juice shop that I had visited last night. I decided a fresh carrot juice would be a great idea, but with nowhere to stop, I just did what the locals do, and stopped in the middle of the road, forcing the traffic to go around the parked bike. Sometimes the loose interpretation of road rules is a good thing. It didn’t take long before some other cars stopped behind me, and blocked further traffic, while the occupants got out and looked at the bike, and I sucked down my fresh juice from the footpath. They came over to tell me of the fissures in the rear tyre, which I already knew about, but there is nothing I can do to replace the tyre until I reach Istanbul. Nice of them to notice though.
I reached Lake Urmia, a massive salt lake, and stopped for photos and bit of a ride on the salt. Which I knew wasn’t the wisest idea, but how often do you get to ride on a salt lake. With the bike and my boots now covered in sticky, wet salt, I needed to find somewhere to wash the bike.
I passed yet another car crash, a 4WD had driven off the road and rolled into a ditch, people were trying to lever the doors open with metal bars.
I continued on, reaching the small city of Urmia, stopping for fuel on the outskirts, where I met a very kind young man at the petrol station, who didn’t want me to pay for the fuel. I had to insist on paying, to which he insisted I take from him two lovely large peaches. We said goodbye with a couple of photos and he pointed me off towards the centre of town. As I passed a construction site, I noticed they had a hose running, so I stopped and they let me wash the bike, even using their broom to help me scrub the bike and my boots.
With the bike now clean, and a beef shashlik in my stomach, I found my digs for the night, parked up the bike and relaxed on my last night in Iran.
30th August 2014 33℃ 290km
Urmia – Van (Turkey)
I was in a crappy room last night, with some sort of construction going on under my window until 3am. The result was that I was late getting up, and therefore late to meet the fixer who would guide me through the maze of the Iranian border customs process.
Fortunately he didn’t seem to mind my tardiness, and we set out for the border together, about 45km away.
When we reached the border, he told me to wait, while he disappeared with my passport and bike documents. After 45 minutes, I thought to myself “I’m sitting here now, with no passport, and I have no idea where he has gone”. After an hour, he reappeared, saying “Big problem! You are five days late. Must pay $200”. I laughed and said “not my problem! Your problem, I’m not late”. He laughed also. Fortunately, he was joking.
He disappeared into another building, and was gone for at least another two hours.
While he was gone, I killed time updating the blog, chatting to the kids loitering around, and buying drinks and biscuits from them.
Eventually Mr fixer reappeared, and said I was good to leave. He guided me to the gate, we shook hands and waved me goodbye across the border.
On the Turkish side, I was immediately greeted with “Welcome to Turkey”. My passport and bike documents checked, and I was sent into an office for formalities. A quick check of my visa, passport stamped, then onto customs for the bike import. All was going well, until they asked for my European insurance card. I told the guy I didn’t have one, as the bike is from Singapore. This stumped him, and he wasn’t sure what to do. He put my documents to one side and processed someone else. After a while, he showed another official, who also didn’t know what to do. I decided I’d try out my Singapore insurance policy, which clearly states out only covers Singapore & Malaysia. He looked at the photocopied document, and said “yes!”. Noting down the policy number, and with that I was on my way.
Outside it was chaos, at least 50 semi-trailers, parked randomly, blocking the dirt trail. I started weaving my way between trucks, but eventually got stuck where I could neither go forward or back. I waited, sweating between the hot trucks for about 10 minutes before a small gap opened up and I weaved the rest of the way out, leaving the trucks behind and onto the open roads of Turkey. The roads were excellent, aside from some deep gravel placed in the middle of the otherwise sweeping fast corners.
I stopped at the first town to fill up fuel, and was greeted by a team of attendants, who filled the bike and gave it a wash, while they provided me with tea.
Refueled with high quality 97 octane fuel for the first time in months, the bike was running fantastically, although the transition from paying $3 for a full tank in Turkmenistan & Iran, to now paying nearly $40 a tank, stings.
Turkey has very high fuel costs due to high taxes.
I rode onto the town of Van, where they were spraying soapy water on the road, presumably to clean it, but it made everything so slippery, I nearly had a get-off on one wet corner. It was hard to even walk in the soap, let alone ride.
I located a cheap hotel and settled in, walking around the vibrant town, streets filled with people.
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