The somewhat unusual travel report, part 1
After a short flight with Pegasus Airlines, we land in Istanbul in stormy winds and heavy rain. Someone is waiting for us at the airport, and after a 45-minute drive we reach the Hotel Blue Tuana, booked in advance, not far from the Blue Mosque.
The rooms are extremely small, and right outside the window the railway rattles past, impossible to ignore, from early morning until late at night. To get the bikes ready to ride and to escape the railway noise, we will look for new accommodation. But first comes the "visa odyssey":

Day 1
To get the Uzbekistan visa, we take a taxi to İstinye. The drive takes about 40 minutes. We are let in, and the official present immediately informs us that we have to come with a completed visa application. We sort that out at the internet café down by the Sea of Marmara. At a brisk pace we go back to the embassy and hand in the application. We are told to come back in a week. We ask for express processing and collection on Friday. Possibly yes, says the consul, irritated. We don't want to bother him with any more questions and hope for his "goodwill". We had already been told about the "visa odyssey" in advance by former fellow sufferers. Still, stressed by all the running around and the preparations for the journey, we fall into bed exhausted and let the railway noise "force" us to sleep.

Day 2
The next day we set off for the Kyrgyz consulate. We search and search, and finally... we find it in an inconspicuous house. We have brought the wrong form and have to fill in an almost identical one again. The nice lady wants us to go straight to the bank just 100 metres away, pay 80 USD per person, and then bring her the receipt. After walking round the block and crossing Taksim Square 3 times, we go back and have the way explained to us again. Now, you would think, we should find the bank straight away... but easier said than done.... finally! The right bank. First take a ticket from the machine, followed by half an hour's wait until our number lights up and, no surprise.......... we are not at the right branch. The transfer costs a fee, the bank clerk says; we should go to the branch that holds the account, where it's free of charge.
After more searching and wandering about, we reach the right bank 2 minutes before 12. We are served as the last customers and hope that the embassy is open in the afternoon so we can show the receipt. At 14:00 we are standing in front of the door of the Kyrgyz consulate: "Closed in the afternoon". Someone who lives in the building lets us into the embassy through a back door. The lady who was so nice in the morning, now a little irritable, goes to ask the consul whether we may take our passports back. All fine, as long as we bring them back on Friday morning by 11:00 at the latest and only come to collect them again in the afternoon. That puts us under time pressure. On Friday morning we are supposed to collect our hoped-for visas at the Uzbek embassy. Somehow it will work out, possibly, maybe, if possible, if the consul is there.

Day 3
Today we move 100 m further on to another hotel, lugging 2 bike boxes of 30 kg each and 12 panniers. In the spacious room of the Obelisk Hotel we will put our bikes together. Our first free day to recover lies ahead.

Day 4
Today it's "sightseeing". With the modern tram we go to the districts of Karaköy and Galata, where life is buzzing, and stroll along the promenade "İstiklal Caddesi". The nostalgic, spruced-up tram reminds us of San Francisco, and the Galata Bridge with its floating bazaar marks the beginning of oriental culture.

Day 5
The plan for the day: taxi to İstinye to collect the visa at the Uzbek embassy. In our frantic rush to get the visas quickly, we realise too late that the taxi driver has cheated us. An "exchange rate difference" has boosted his day's earnings by 75 euros! At 10:00, right on opening time, the queuing in front of the embassy gate begins. After an hour we are called in to the consul. The visa hasn't been issued yet. Please come back at 12:00. Now we are visibly annoyed. At 12:00, queuing again. Half an hour later we are put off until 13:00. Finally, the consul has had a good lunch, and in exchange for 220 USD we receive the visas, issued in a great hurry. We jump straight into the next taxi to Taksim Square to collect the Kyrgyz visa. 15:00, both visas in the bag, back to the hotel, load the bikes we had got ready, and off to the ferry, which leaves for Mudanya at 17:30. On the way we eat a tasty bread roll with a fried fish fillet inside. At 19:00 we reach the other shore at Mudanya and look for a hotel. The staff speak fluent Turkish, and Turkish as their second language. Using body language, we get a room with breakfast for 143 Turkish lira. At the nearby MIGROS we stock up on the supplies we need to start the first stage towards Singapore.

From the 1st to the 2nd travel report
Route: Mudanya - Söloz - Çerçiler - Soğuksu - Geyve - Ankara
8 o'clock! After breakfast we set off on our first cycling stage. The ride starts hilly. Truly a tough start to our life as cycling nomads. At "İznik Gölü" we camp for the first time among the olive trees. Everything set up and ready for bed, dried porcini mushrooms soaking in cold water, stove lit. "Firstly things turn out differently, and secondly not the way you think": promptly the owner of the olive grove sends us off his field. Everything hastily packed up and tucked under our arms, he takes us to the shore of Lake İznik. To the croaking of frogs in the mating season, we spend our first night in the tent.

The ride to Ankara is packed with climbing, and our legs get heavier and heavier. The weather isn't kind to us either. It rains again and again. With 320 km already behind us, we reach Ankara, the capital of Turkey, in Central Anatolia. From the suburbs to the city centre, after a heavy thunderstorm, the expressway is full of ankle-deep puddles. Again and again, feet up, and don't stray too far from the kerb. The "rush hour" lasts 24 hours. Two lanes turn into three, or, nothing unusual, into four. Whoever honks first wins, greets, gets right of way, or is annoyed because things aren't moving.

The "Atatürk Bulvarı", a roaring north-south traffic artery, is unavoidable for us to get to modern "Yenişehir" (the new town). In the swarm of traffic we haven't yet seen a single bicycle. You might think that muscle-powered bikes are completely unknown here. To our surprise, the motorists are considerate, give us right of way and leave us gaps to change lanes. Splattered with dirt from the road, we look as if we have been in a mud fight. Not so easy to find accommodation with a generous bathroom in this outfit. The shower has to be big enough to clean us, our clothes and our equipment. After a day like this you really appreciate a clean bed.

The somewhat unusual travel report, part 2
We are not spared the hunt for the remaining visas. We still need Turkmenistan and Tajikistan. To apply for the Turkmen transit visa, you must already have the Uzbek and Iranian visas of the neighbouring countries. The problem: independent tourists with bicycles, without a letter of invitation, aren't very welcome here either. We can't afford to make a single mistake on the visa applications.

According to various travel reports, the Tajik visa can be obtained within a day. By taxi we get to "Panora Mall", an ultra-modern shopping centre for designer brands, for well-off Turks. Without any preconceptions we head for the hill opposite, where many embassies are. In a well-kept house, the Tajik vice-consul receives us, checks our passports, and wants to keep them straight away, to hand them back to us in the afternoon with the much-coveted sticker.

Wrong assumption! That won't work! We try politely to explain to the consul that without our passports we won't get the Turkmen visa. With our passports back, we go to "Panora Shopping Mall" and spend 2 hours there without buying a Rolex. Instead we eat a döner with chips. Then we go back to the Turkmen consulate at the other end of the city.

Already knowing that this 5-day transit visa will be the most unpleasant and time-consuming one, we try to stay calm. Here is a brief summary of the rest of the day:

Waiting outside the gates of the Turkmen embassy
Passport check. Followed by a long, drawn-out wait in the anteroom
Instead of the application form, a letter of explanation is required.

Crossing the country as an independent tourist by bicycle: impossible! Must NOT be mentioned!
Copies of the first page of the passport and of the visas for the neighbouring countries, plus a photo
Find a photocopier (there isn't one at the consulate!). Once again time is pressing! At the nearby MIGROS, where we almost feel at home by now, the copies are made for us.
Back to the embassy, all the papers, with the letter of explanation, handed to the consul.
The visa will be handed to us in 10 days. Great! Wait? Ride on?

After a long and exhausting discussion: the express solution (for a fee).
A confirmation in the form of an email is to be sent to us soon. With this letter we would get the 5-day transit visa at the border (with Iran) in Sarakhs. In only 5 days we have to reach Farab on the border with Uzbekistan, 410 kilometres away. 100 km a day, with a reserve built in for headwinds! The processing fee has to be paid at the border in US dollars. We agree to this uncertain "deal", at the risk of getting stuck between 2 countries. If we are refused transit between Iran and Turkmenistan and our Iranian visa has run out in the meantime: for that case we have no solution.

We are still in Ankara:

Now back to the Tajik embassy to get hold of the last remaining visa. Miscalculated again! Our nerves are in shreds! Contrary to what the third secretary promised, the "sticker" that is supposedly so easy to get may only be issued on Friday. So our passports stay at the embassy until tomorrow at the earliest.

Friday at 10:00, our phone call. Annoyed by the unreliability, we have to accept that the visa hasn't been issued yet. Then the usual: waiting, possibly, maybe, perhaps we'll be able to celebrate success on Monday. Let's wait and see.

As we finish this travel report, we still don't know whether we'll be able to collect the visa on Monday so we can start our journey on 17 April with nothing hanging over us.

On 29 April the email "Letter of Invitation" from the Turkmen ministry was sent to us. With this document we are entitled to collect the transit visa at the Turkmen border. So it does work after all! We are relieved.

Route: Ankara - Sungurlu (bus) - Boğazkale - Yozgat - Kalaba - Göreme - Zelve - Kayseri - Bünyan - Pazarsuyu - Malatya (bus)

To gain some time, we decide on our first bus transfer, from Ankara to Sungurlu, where we arrive at 15:00. Faced with the unfamiliar road layout and not knowing the language, we have by now expanded our Turkish vocabulary. The signpost most important for us, "Şehir Merkezi", meaning centre or town centre, now makes sense to us.

Since our start in Istanbul, here in Malatya we have covered 760 km and 9,700 metres of climbing. Ahead of us are another 840 km to the Iranian border, which we must reach not before 15 May, but not later either. From Van to the border crossing at Kapıköy there will then be 100 Turkish kilometres left.

The weather hasn't settled down yet. From Sungurlu to Yozgat we get lots of rain showers and headwinds with violent gusts, accompanied by hail. Temperatures of 7° mean gloves for the first time. Worn out by the weather, we reach the "tourist trap" of Boğazkale and took the first place to stay. When the bill arrives it confirms our suspicions: we can't recommend the Hotel and Restaurant Aşıkoğlu or the Hittite House. It would have been better to ride on up the last "ramp" of 500 metres and choose the Hotel/Motel Demir-Başkent Camping instead.

The next morning we cycle on an ancient cobbled road, 300 metres of climbing and 10 kilometres, through Hattusa, the capital of the Hittite empire on the Anatolian plateau. Added to the UNESCO World Heritage list in 1986, this excavation site is said to be one of the oldest settlements in the world.

On the way to Yozgat we notice lots of new housing developments springing up like mushrooms. Roads are being widened and resurfaced. We suspect this building boom is being driven by the economic upturn and the need for new housing. On this stretch our trip computer shows our biggest climb so far: 1,444 metres. Claudia has caught a stubborn cold, which means 2 rest days and a course of antibiotics.

Surprising for us! The roads are well built and have only a few potholes. Again and again, at least every 30 kilometres, there is a petrol station with a shop attached. Here we can always top up our supplies. 5-6 litres of water are enough for our daily needs. When we pitch the tent, another 5 litres are needed for cooking and washing. Along the way we get countless shouts of hello, invitations to tea, or are offered lunch.

The ride on from Yozgat to Göreme is unspectacular, but this is what we have been waiting for: the weather improves! And yet another climb to conquer. The sudden rise in temperature takes it out of us. Then a lorry is standing at the roadside, blocking our way. The driver gets out and offers to take us further on his articulated lorry. In English, of which he surely understood nothing, we gladly accept the offer and are carried 65 kilometres over the mountains. As a result (that's the price of comfort), the bikes need a thorough wash to get rid of red brick dust.

We reach Cappadocia, another "highlight" of our journey. Cappadocia means "land of beautiful horses", because the Persians bought all their horses here. The region is made up of the provinces of Nevşehir, Niğde, Aksaray, Kırşehir and Kayseri in Central Anatolia.

Göreme, with its cave churches carved out of the soft tuff, is considered the centre of Cappadocia. The rock formations and a large number of underground cities were declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO in 1985. Striking is the snow-covered Erciyes, 3,995 metres above sea level, which accompanies us as a "signpost" for quite a long time.

Göreme is like a magnet for countless coaches full of tourists. The viewpoints and car parks are bursting at the seams, but with our touring bikes we always find somewhere to stop. We ask around and are told that the Göreme campsite is closed, so we end up at the Panorama campsite, which we can't recommend. With the tent already up and furnished, a strong wind with gusts sets in. In no time our home had been sandblasted. Even inside the inner tent and the bags, fine sand dust settled. You have to be lucky: the owner of the Göreme campsite opens his gates for us. Determined to flee the "Panoramic" site, we order a taxi, stuff everything in and have our gear taken to a well-kept, sheltered lawn.

After a thorough clean-up, a 13 km "loop" to Zelve makes up for it. By bike along narrow bridleways and through small villages, and with a walk through a long-abandoned civilisation, we can relax.

In contrast: the Göreme National Park, massively overcrowded with tourists. Waiting times of up to an hour at every attraction make visitors impatient and aggressive. It's a crush. Anyone who doesn't want to be first at the entrance should spare themselves this ordeal and go to Zelve instead.

Our recommendation: the "Green - Ihlara day tour", which you can book with Hiro Tour Travel Agency. For just TL 160 (CHF 80), an excellent round trip with the following attractions:

The Göreme panorama, with an impressive view of inactive volcanoes and dwellings carved into the sandstone, shaped by wind and rain.
Derinkuyu, a 4,000-year-old underground city with 9 kilometres of tunnels. Its 13 underground floors gave 4,000 inhabitants safety from attacks from the "upper world".
A walk through the "Ihlara Valley", with an excellent lunch in Belisırma.
The "Selime Rock Monastery" with its caravanserai. On the Silk Road there was a caravanserai every 30 kilometres, because camels could only cover 30 kilometres a day.
Uçhisar, the village pressed against the mountain.
The "Pigeon Valley", where birds were bred because the white eggshells were used to make paint for rock paintings, the droppings were spread on the fields as fertiliser, and they carried the mail.
Before the drive back, there is a look inside an onyx-cutting factory. In this region the stone is mined from 100-200 metres below ground.

We leave Göreme and reach Kayseri. A city of 1,000,000 inhabitants, nothing special, very industrial and business-like. In Kayseri the first bike service is also due. The best "master" in town, Ramazan Usta, and his workshop assistant do this job for us, including replacing the broken bottom bracket. Perfect work, which for 2 hours costs only 50 TL (CHF 25).

We decide to visit the "Seljuk caravanserai of Sultanhanı", 10 kilometres off our route. This detour was worth it. We are the only visitors. The gate is opened just for us, and the gatekeeper kindly points out the small details of the building. From the tower you get a view that, in good weather, reaches as far as the next caravanserai. In the stables, the cloister and the nave, countless pigeons flutter about and "decorate" the floors. Over Turkish coffee, which by now already seems like a ritual to us, we say goodbye to our host.

It's already 16:00, and we have to hurry to reach Bünyan before the approaching heat thunderstorm (they mostly come in the afternoon). In this village of 20,000 souls we looked in vain for a hotel or any other accommodation. On the guarded, fenced-in grounds of the police station, we are given a patch of grass for the tent, access to a toilet and shower, and of course çay.

Pınarbaşı: in a restaurant we linger over Turkish coffee and plan the next part of our journey. Our Turkish vocabulary is growing visibly: what does it cost? "Bunun fiyatı ne kadar?" To which we get the answer in German: "Nothing, you are our guests". Many Turks speak our language because they used to work in Germany.

Another heat thunderstorm is brewing. To escape the rain, we look for a lift. The number plate should start with a "44" – that could be our direction, to Malatya. After 2 hours of waiting in vain for the right lorry, without red brick sand on the loading platform, we decide on the scheduled bus. We hope there is enough room for the bikes in the hold, otherwise we'll be "left behind". Lucky us: everything fits in the hold. After more than 3 hours on the road, we reach Malatya at 20:15.

Route: Malatya - Sürgü - Adıyaman - Kâhta - Diyarbakır - Tatvan - Gevaş - Van - Muradiye - Doğubayazıt - Iranian border

A magnificent ride through countless apricot orchards awaits us. Many trees are in blossom, everything is turning green, a landscape full of variety. The world's best apricots come from the Malatya region. We could have set off without breakfast, because we are offered dried fruit as a snack again and again. All untreated, without additives, "pure nature", free of charge! Several times we are asked to stop and answer the question "where are you from". You simply can't ride past – the Turks are outgoing and curious, and always want to invite us to something. We get the best tips at stops like these. That's how we reach "Ali Dayı", a fish restaurant. Thousands of trout of every size swim about in ponds of various sizes, until they....... are grilled over charcoal, then finished off in an earthenware dish and served to the guest with salad. A delicious change from the huge amounts of apricots we have eaten.

Well fed, we find the right place for our camp at a farmer's. Now! We really only wanted a spot for the tent. Unbelievable! Straight away a blanket with cushions is laid out for us and, what else, tea is served. No! Not enough. The son is called, a TV and a table are carried out onto the field, the satellite dish connected – it works – Turkish television. They actively help us put up the tent, and quickly make a call on the mobile. Surprise! A few friends have been invited, and what gets delivered? Trout, of course, and "EFES", the Turkish beer. Hospitality! We spend an unforgettable evening and have made friends. It works! We don't speak Turkish and the Turks don't speak English. Tired, we withdraw, the others considerately carry on talking quietly, and "Thomas" the guard dog keeps watch over the surroundings.

Up at 06:00 – at 08:00 we carry on over the mountains, 80 kilometres to Adıyaman. Just before Adıyaman we visit "Perrhe". This relic in the district of "Örenli" was once an ancient city in the kingdom of "Commagene". In Kâhta we are surprised by a tour agent with an attractive offer: "Nemrut Dağı at sunset". His package deal: storage for the bikes in his office, a hot shower before the tour, and a night in his hotel after we get back. We soon agree; the price is right, and at 13:00 we're off. On the way we were shown more sights:

- Karakuş Tumulus (burial mound of the royal family of Commagene)
- Cendere Bridge
- The ruins of Arsameia

The highlight: "Nemrut Dağı" (2,300 metres above sea level), shrouded in fog and heavy rain showers. In the mountain hut people drank tea and waited for the weather to improve. Yes, now, a few rays of sunshine: walk quickly to the summit in 15 minutes and take the usual photos. With moderate success! Once again no view, rain, and on the way down, extreme hail. Trickles turned into torrents along the footpath. Soaked to the skin, shoes full of water, we get back to the hut. By now the hut was packed with people "fleeing the mountain", so we fled to our minibus in our underpants. So much for the sunset! Back in Kâhta: wash our clothes, and while we wait, eat a döner between the spinning drums. Back at the hotel: sort out our gear, pack, and get everything ready for the next morning.

Diyarbakır: apart from the restored city walls, this town of 650,460 inhabitants doesn't have much to offer. Claudia is still suffering from the flu. The cold, wet weather made a visit to the doctor at the regional hospital necessary. The medicines she had already been given hadn't had the desired effect. An injection in the backside was now supposed to do the trick. We are drawn further into eastern Turkey, into Kurdish country, where the feared PKK is supposed to be active.

On the way from Diyarbakır to Tatvan there was nowhere acceptable to camp. It's already late afternoon, so we take it easy and "hop" onto the next lorry. No, not just any lorry! By now we have learned to tell the well-kept cabs from the smoky ones. The number plates, which show the direction, tell us whether it will stop. The legally required rest break makes the driver stop along the way. From the little kitchen between the trailer axles, we are handed Turkish coffee and chocolate bars. Conversation in "Turkish versus English", with hands and feet; the driver is happy about the change. Food and transport free of charge, of course. Arrival in Tatvan, another unspectacular traffic junction.

Our next destination: along the shore of "Van Gölü" to Gevaş, to take a ferry from there to the island of Akdamar. The usual: sunny from early morning until 11:00, then thunderstorms. The weather changes very quickly. Usually there's only just time to put on our rain gear. Cycling in waterproof overclothes is demotivating and exhausting. Because you sweat, you soon end up almost as wet on your skin as without them. Yes, you can guess what's coming: once again we pedal up the mountain in the rain and headwind. Help arrives as if we had called for it; so far we have always been lucky! A construction crew in a crew bus throws open the doors, all the workers help, and within 2 minutes we and our gear are loaded. In the dry, with Turkish "background singing", we go 5 km further to the canteen hut. We are given lunch and can warm up over tea. There is usually someone who speaks English, which makes it easier to tell them about our adventure and to swap email addresses. At the end of the lunch break we cycle on towards Gevaş, well aware that it will soon be pouring again.

"The unexpected often happens": long stretches of the road are under construction, not yet paved, or torn up by heavy machinery. The whole pass road is being widened to 4 lanes, reinforced or rebuilt with tunnels. We need an enormous amount of time to reach the top of the pass at 2,230 metres in time. It's already part of our daily ritual: at around 1,800 metres we are caught by another thunderstorm. Far and wide, no shelter, no house and no petrol station nearby. Pitch the tent in this weather? No! Keep pedalling, there's bound to be a solution. After about 2 kilometres we reach a heavy-goods lorry that also can't continue because of the storm. The driver, a Kurd, gets out and offers us his heated cab to warm up. From a little English and his gestures, we understand that he would let us have his sleeping bunk for the night. A little later: one of his long-distance trucker friends notices our bikes "parked" at the roadside. He stops, and we change vehicles. Relieved not to have to spend the night in a nicotine-soaked cab, we let his friend take us over the pass to Gevaş.

On the shore of Lake Van there are lots of campsites and picnic spots, restaurants and beaches for swimming. A Turkish "holiday strip" like on the Riviera. The season hasn't started yet, and all the businesses and hotels are still closed. Looking for a place to sleep, we come across a fish farm with a lokanta (restaurant) attached. The owner welcomes us and opens his kitchen for us; we are his first guests today and get two fried trout, salad, tea, and a bed for the night between the tables and chairs. The day, so demotivating at first, has had a happy ending after all.

For the next day we had planned to take the ferry from Gevaş to Akdamar. We wanted to take our gear with us and spend a night on the island. A boatman's statement that he would only set off after a tour group arrived at 13:00 was too risky for us, so we decide to cycle on to Van.

Thousands of years ago, Lake Van was just a river. A volcanic eruption dammed the natural watercourse, and a lake of 3,740 km² was formed (7 times as big as Lake Constance). Minerals are constantly washed into the lake from the mountains. Because there is no outflow and the water evaporates, a soapy alkaline solution forms. You get into the lake with dirty clothes and come out with clean ones.

On 19 October 2011 the city was shaken by an earthquake. 2,300 houses were destroyed or made uninhabitable because they were in danger of collapsing. Many inhabitants did not survive the disaster. The survivors now live in container settlements and are waiting for their houses to be rebuilt. In Turkey there is no law on building permits, building regulations or building inspections. People build as they like, as profitably as possible, with the help of acquaintances and friends. Anyone can be an architect. Unprofessionally built houses sink into the sandy ground or collapse. That makes another earthquake correspondingly dangerous.

The comforts of a hotel put us in touch with a tour group from the USA. Our bikes, parked in the lobby, were soon noticed and aroused interest in the "Zentralbikers". The tour leader invites us to join the full-day excursion to Akdamar and Van Fortress. A free day's round trip awaits us, in a first-class coach with plenty of legroom, a reserved ferry and an excellent lunch.

The island has a ferry landing, a staircase up to the monastery, and of course a souvenir shop with a cafeteria. At the highest point, among lots of almond trees, stands the Armenian Orthodox church. This sight, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, was an autonomous Armenian territory until the First World War, and so also part of Kurdish culture. Here there was a physical border between Persia, Africa and Europe. The "old" Armenians had their own architecture, alphabet and language, and were known among the Turks as trustworthy partners.

Recommendation:
Because there's no road, there are steps and there's nowhere to camp, it's best to leave your bike on the mainland

6 kilometres after Muradiye (a campsite by the waterfall), our night's rest was badly disturbed. Contrary to the restaurant owner's advice to put the tent up in the middle of the brightly lit football pitch, we prefer the "safe" woods. We aren't the only ones who like it better in the dark. Several times during the night, our sleep is interrupted by the barking of wild dogs. They fight all around the tent and get their paws caught in the guy ropes. The campsite owner's Dobermann, armed with a spiked collar, comes to our rescue and drives the troublemakers away.

We cycle within a hair's breadth of the Iranian border. The border posts and their fortifications are clearly visible. Over the Tendürek Geçidi, officially 2,644 m high, at a 9% gradient, we reach the top of the pass. More than 5 hours have passed since we set off in the morning. We were looking forward to a fast descent, but once again we are caught by rain showers and a strong wind that means we have to pedal even going downhill. And so we reach the town of Doğubayazıt. Without the sight of "İshak Paşa" you would leave this town again as fast as possible. To finish off, after 85 kilometres and over 1,100 metres of climbing, comes "dessert". On cobblestones we push our fully loaded bikes for 7 kilometres at a 10% gradient up to Murat Camping. An effort that isn't worth it (but there is no alternative). This campsite is the starting point for expeditions to Mount Ararat (5,134 m), the highest mountain in Turkey. Noah's Ark is supposed to have run aground on this rock. According to one account, an American now wants to dig up the ark, which has supposedly already been "located". Seek and you shall find (maybe).

The end of Turkey is near; the Iranian border, 40 kilometres away, is getting closer! No more free choice of clothes, and so the start of the legally required covering of bare skin. Apart from the hands and face, uncovered skin is forbidden in Iran. Women in particular are punished for disobedience. Claudia already bought a headscarf in Van, and a long-sleeved top reaching below the hips. More about how comfortable these are for cycling in temperatures above 50 degrees follows in the Iran travel report.

There are many reasons for conflict.
Yes, Kurdistan is in conflict with the government and the "Jandarma". A dangerous PKK, robberies, terrorist attacks, kidnappings of tourists and roadblocks – we noticed none of that. Contrary to all the "well-meant" warnings, we only had good encounters with Kurds. Our experience of Kurdistan paints a completely different picture:

Interesting facts:
Proud Kurds are friendly and helpful.
A patriotic Kurdish construction crew rescues us from the thunderstorm. In the canteen hut we are given tea and lunch and can warm up.
A hospitable Kurd offers us dinner for three and a bed for the night in his lokanta.
Considerate Kurdish drivers honk, not to push us off the road, but to show how happy they are that we are there.
At the police "checkpoints" only the tachographs and the papers of the lorry drivers are checked, as is usual in other countries too.
Turkey, with its area of 814,578 km², is 19 times bigger than Switzerland.
3% of the country is on European soil – the rest on Asian soil.
Istanbul, with 15 million inhabitants, is the only city in the world that stretches across 2 continents.
Of its 75 million inhabitants, 99% are Muslim.
Ararat (5,137 metres) is the highest mountain in Turkey.
Turkey is now one of the 20 largest economies in the world.
40% of industrial companies, with 2/5 of the country's jobs, are in Istanbul.
With more than 500,000 soldiers, the army is one of the largest armed forces in the world.

Visa time windows
Prices per person

1.	Iran	30 days	15.5. - 13.6.2012	*
2.	Turkmenistan	5-day transit	13.6. - 17.6.2012	25 USD
3.	Uzbekistan	30 days	15.6. - 14.7.2012	110 USD
4.	Tajikistan	45 days	09.7. - 20.8.2012	75 USD
5.	Kyrgyzstan	30 days	15.8. - 15.9.2012	80 USD
6.	China	90 days, business	15.3. - 15.9.2012	*

* Arranged through Amrein Reisen, Lucerne, for a flat fee of CHF 400.00 per person

Consulate addresses in Istanbul and Ankara

Uzbek consulate
Sehit Halil Ibrahim Caddesi No. 23
Istinye, Istanbul
+90 212 323 20 37
Opening hours: Monday 10:00 - 12:00
1 form and 1 passport photo (bring the form with you)

Visa: 30 days / single entry
Fee: 110 USD per person

Kyrgyz consulate
La martin caddesi No. 7
Taksim, Istanbul
+90 212 235 37 37
Opening hours: Mon/Wed/Fri 10:00 - 12:00
1 form and 1 passport photo (get the form from the consulate)

Visa: 30 days / single entry
Fee: 80 USD per person, paid in advance at the bank:

Tuerkiye Is Bankasi Taksim Subesi
Istiklal caddesi
Meseli sokak No. 2
Kat. 2-3-4 Beyoglu (above Parmakkapi branch)
Hand in the receipt with the application at the consulate.

Embassy of the Republic of Tajikistan
Ferit Recai Ertugrul Caddesi No 20
ORAN / Ankara / TURKEY
+90 312 491 16 07
E-mail: tajemb_turkey@yahoo.com
Opening hours: Mon - Fri 10:00 - 17:00
1 form, 1 passport photo and a letter of explanation

Visa: 45 days / single entry (30-day visa 54 USD)
Fee: 75 USD per person, paid in advance at the bank (ask the consulate for the address)

Embassy of Turkmenistan
Koza Sokak No. 28
Gaziosmanpasa
06700 Ankara / TURKEY
+90 312 441 71 22
E-mail: ruslanrtkm@gmail.com
Opening hours: Tue-Fri 9:00 to 12:00
1 form, 1 passport photo and a letter of explanation

5-day transit visa (no extension possible)
Fee: xx USD per person, to be paid at the border when the visa is issued

Biker info for the route

-	Active (25 days of riding)	1,500	kilometres
-	Total climbing	17,918	m
-	Average speed	15	km/h
-	Riding time in motion	100:34	hrs