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Bulgaria
We will not have an imperishable memory
of Bulgaria. The Cyrillic alphabet surprises
us a short moment, but is not enough to
draw us from our Rumanian memories. Here,
more aucuns children does not run us after,
the streets are deserted, heat partitioning
can be people on their premises. There are
well two or three domestic pigs in freedom
on the road for us creus
er appetite, but not of children who are
filled with wonder and who applaud at the
time of our crossings of villages.
Only a burst tire comes to break the monotony
of the kilometers. In spite of the ceaseless
calls of headlight of the cars which doubled
us, it will be necessary for us nearly 30
km to return account to us which our car
ran on 3 wheels. Result, a battered rim
and a tire botched to the metal screen.
Hé not, these things there do not
arrive that with the women... we are upset
of this disconcerting discovered.
The changed tire, we quickly take again
the road in the hope to arrive to Turkey
before the night. We make a short halt at
the station Shell de Burgas where we devour
four enormous sandwiches oozing various
and varied sauces. During this time, Adrienne,
is quietly made dorloter by the mechanic
who swears well to have already seen it
naked (include/understand without stickers
well on) turning in a film.
"Great Ramble! Louis de Funès!"
exclaim it suddenly with high way.
We look at it estomaqués, not knowing
what to answer. But good blood, how the
French culture did make well to come up
to now? I say myself low
As you undoubtedly noticed, we make for
the first time reference to Adrienne.
Then which is Adrienne?
Adrienne, is the name which we gave to our
splendid car.
Why Adrienne?
Undoubtedly because of Rocky (film which
we never have vu…) who says "Adrienne
returns to the maison…"
Today the plans are to leave irresistible
Adrienne in Africa, more precisely in Cameroun.
But our real intention is to find an adventurer
to go up it in Paris.
Here are the presentations are made.
Turkey
The Turkish border throws a cold on our
desire of conquest of new horizons. For
the first time, we must face customs officers
who do not obstruct themselves to make flight
in organized bands.
Would this be before bitter taste, of the
entourloupes which await us in Africa?
Fortunately, this time, we will not be the
Turkish heads of their truanderies, they
are Roumanians at the wheel of their Mercedes
glowing. For them, the passage in customs,
proceeds in two times:
1) One slips initially a first ticket (100
US dollars) into the passport, one joke
with the customs officer and one laughs
with him as if one were the best buddies
of the world.
2) If this cinema is not sufficient, one
more seriously continues the discussion
while changing place. One migrates of the
other with dimensions of the counter, so
as to make his salad far from the inquisitive
eyes. From there, one leaves his pocket
a large bundle of biffetons of 100 dollars
and one unrolls them like PQ, until time
to obtain a shaking of the head of the customs
officer as a sign of satisfaction.
In front of the scene, we have evil to keep
our serious and yet one needs it our presence
disturbs them. In order to continue his
business without us, the customs officer
aggressively claims us 2 euros. I balk with
giving him to make him nicely understand
that it will not have a kopek of more than
our pocket. It is irritated, I am carried
out because we need his plug to pass the
last barrier, which definitively separates
us from Europe.
Two euro, it is thus the nonnegotiable minimum
to pay to pass the Turkish border post and
to have papers in rule.
No Comment…on is left there well!
One hour afterwards, we make halt with
Pinarhisar, not far from the customs, exténués
to have rolled thirteen hours of sharpened.
A small enlightened lane holds our attention
for the camping. Some eccentric existential
questions however oblige us to remain on
our guards. How let us be accomodated we
by "Buckwheats"? Are they carnivorous?
Two minutes only are enough to put a term
at these puerile interrogations.
Indeed, hardly we parked Adrienne, that
young Turkish joins to us. They are 4 and
want obviously to make knowledge with two
Europeans travelling in funny of car. They
do not speak English, we do not speak a
word about Turkish. The communication will
not be obvious, all in suggestive and the
nonverbal one. Turkish employs very expressive
mimicry to say yes or not. We quickly learn
how to do as much of it, it is enough just
to dérider a little.
They offer water to seal our thirst and
pears as a welcome to us. Fifth Turkish
joint very quickly with our small group,
then a sixth, we then decide to leave our
bottles alcohol. The evening will finish
on the blows of 3H30 morning after having
tasted end of the lips, wine and Turkish
beer.
Monday July 21, national feastday Belgian,
we make our entry in Istanbul for short
a 8 days stay. From Istanbul we will not
visit anything, not even Sainte Sophie,
splendour of the croisés… We
will have just time to make us steal 50
euro by an unpleasant shoeshiner of shoe
and to cross two young French, who connects
in 2 months, Bordeaux in Kabul without chart,
by means of an old woman 305. Definitely,
they are insane these Gallic.
We will spend our eight days to be worked
like turcs… our engagements, towards
our partners and our friends, oblige! Such
an amount of worse we will return to Istanbul
for our voyage of Noces… opinion with
the amatrices!
We leave Istanbul Tuesday July 29 for Ankara
and further still Cappadoce.
Four hours of road are enough to cover the
distance which separates Istanbul from its
political rival Ankara. The Othoman capital
impresses us by his extent. Innumerable
new buildings push that and there with the
sandstone of the wind, accentuating in fact
this idea of gigantism.
The circumvented capital, the doors of Cappadoce
are drawn up finally in front of us, majestic
mountains intersected with rich and fertile
plains. We move towards Kayseri and Ürgüp
cities to the famous chimneys of fairies.
The night falling, we decide to stop us
in the first village come to spend the night.
After a first unfruitful attempt in a village,
and at the exit of another, a strange type
jumps us above. It is badly shaved, the
émacié face, three teeth in
less, but has the enormous advantage of
baragouiner some words of English. It wears
a crasseux tee-shirt like ours, that reassures
us that with half!
"Good night C you want camp-site"
requires us rather abruptly it by empoignant
our two hands to greet us.
Its question and its insistent attitude
surprise us somewhat, but, without knowing
too much why and especially where this history
was going to carry out us, we agree his
offer to come to spend the night at his
place. In all manners, we hardly had the
choice, our friend had already half of its
bust in the car and either outside of the
cockpit, but of the inside in order to be
caused us more convincing.
Is it necessary to be 24h on 24h being wary
and suspicieux with respect to people whom
we meet?
Insh' allah (with the grace of God) as have
habit to say Arabic... what counts this
evening, C is that we live at least once,
a Turkish history, so much worse for the
remainder!
It accomodates us at his place with for
any comfort, a straw mattress in front of
the door of its house in cob. The habit
wants that the foreigner y assoie in company
of its host, which we do while taking care
well on withdrawing our shoes.
During this time, it launches to his wife
of the words which we do not include/understand.
Two minutes afterwards, we have with our
feet, a cup of tea, and a meal made up of
a hot soup, one taboulé cold and
bread wafers (format crepe) to push the
whole in the gosier.
We include/understand very quickly during
the discussion which followed this feast
which our host is in fact very interested.
But which is not to it pas… ? Even
us, who accept the hospitality of this good
man.
He wants to us refourguer payable cam in
advance, of superb carpet woven by his wife.
With each attempt at its share, we make
mine naively nothing include/understand
and outline for all answers, of broad smiles.
After a few minutes of this small horse-gear,
indicator which one was not very loquacious,
our new friend wants absolutely to offer
beers to us, which it leaves to seek in
the car, led by Loïc.
It is the occasion dreamed for us, to leave
our last bottle alcohol, the agricultural
Rum of Martinique. We clinked glasses, in
the honor of the friendship Free-Turkish,
but discover with amazement that our host
is a drunkard, in more of being a merchant
of carpet and professor at the nursery school
of the village.
In order not to have to drink with him,
we always issue with the same smile, that
we must take again the road early the next
morning. And as it does not hold quickly
upright any more. We will lie down, more
embarrassed to have left the bottle rum,
than content that it us drunk more with
these stories of carpet.
By precaution we sleep very equipped. The
night short, is intersected by the hysterical
cries with his wife sermonizing it.
The next morning we leave our host without
putting the small dishes in the large ones.
We make the meeting on the roads of Cappadoce
with the first wandering tribes. They live
in tents resembling the Yurts of the steppes
of Central Asia and move in surprising motorcycle
combination. We cross of them some which
transbahutent to 6 people, the father, his
wife and her four enfants…
We spend a second night in Cappadoce, but
this time, in a small village of mountain,
not far from Adana, Turkey Méridional.
It is still a professor who lodges us at
his place, but, nothing to have with the
other, except this acute direction of the
reception common to all the turcs…
We dine like kings, the family gathered
rings some around us in order not to only
leave us. The father of family offers a
straw mattress in the living room to us
to spend the night. He will sleep with us,
on the ground, as a sign of friendship and
respect. The Next morning, after a solid
breakfast, we take again the road, direction
Syria. Today is Thursday July 31, 2003.
Newspaper from the 20 to
July 31, 2003 by Geoffroy
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