I had to wait until Monday morning to start the ball rolling. I went to the first office where i was charged 130 Turkish Lira, dont know what for but i paid it. With my paperwork i went to the next office, this is where the fun and games started. I was planning on trying to get the bike without a clearing agent, it soon became apparant that there would be no way in this wide world that this would be possible. As if by magic (just like the shop keeper in Mr Ben) a clearing agent appeared. I later found out that he could only speak 2 words in English, 'Come' and 'Stop', this was going to be fun.
It took all day Monday to sort some of the paperwork out, i went back to my hotel with a headache. Tuesday came and more paperwork was printed, copied and signed before we could go to the warehouse with a van to pick the crate up. After a few backhanders we eventually got the crate, however, we then had to take the crate to the other side of town to the vehicle inspection office. We managed to get most of the next bit of paperwork done, with the help of more backhanders, before the vehicle inspection office closed, all by using 'Come' and 'Stop' as the key words. Through an interpreter the agent said that the paperwork was complete and i could pick the bike up first thing in the morning, then he cleared off.
First thing in the morning came, 'We have a problem' one of the officers said. I had to visit many different rooms trying to obtain many different signatures and collecting 'Official' stamps. The system was so outdated that everyone seemed to be duplicating each others work. I was told on a number of occasions that the paperwork was now complete, only trouble was that someone else would then pick the paperwork up and more forms had to be stamped and signed by other people. Then someone else would pick the paperwork up and more forms had to be stamped and signed by other people. Then someone else............, it went on and on. In total i counted 31 different pieces of paper in my folder, sheer/pure incompetence. Eventually, around 4 of the clock, i hit the road. It had taken 3 solid days of sorting paperwork and collecting signatures from Mr Jobsworth to get the bike back.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Istanbul
I took the shortcut and got the plane to Turkey. My fırst impressions of Istanbul are that its a very friendly place and everywhere and everyone i have come into contact with have been very helpful indeed. I still have a certain amount of suspicion whenever people offer me drinks, advice, cigarettes, a drag on a water pipe etc. but i have no need to worry, its all for free.
The best thıng i like about Istanbul is the fact that i can quite easily blend into the background as i believe i look like a Turk. I have a little bit of stubble, a bit of hair and i just look like a Turk. People even talk to me in Turkish, however, when i say 'Hey up', it tends to give the game away instantly.
I went to the world famous 'Grand Bazaar' and the 'Blue Mosque' before headıng to a cafe where i sat with the locals smoking a water pipe, great stuff and a great experience.
I go to the airport tomorrow in order to start the fun and games to get my bike. As soon as i get it i wıll be able to continue the journey around Turkey for a bit. The temperature has dropped significantly so i wıll have to make sure i wrap up well, c'est la vie mes amis.
The best thıng i like about Istanbul is the fact that i can quite easily blend into the background as i believe i look like a Turk. I have a little bit of stubble, a bit of hair and i just look like a Turk. People even talk to me in Turkish, however, when i say 'Hey up', it tends to give the game away instantly.
I went to the world famous 'Grand Bazaar' and the 'Blue Mosque' before headıng to a cafe where i sat with the locals smoking a water pipe, great stuff and a great experience.
I go to the airport tomorrow in order to start the fun and games to get my bike. As soon as i get it i wıll be able to continue the journey around Turkey for a bit. The temperature has dropped significantly so i wıll have to make sure i wrap up well, c'est la vie mes amis.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Nepal
I rested in the first hotel i came to over the border. My shoulders were aching, as were the backs of my legs, as well as my ar5e, from the ride up to the border crossing. Next day i just headed off, not really knowing where i was going to end up.
I was still in the frame of mind that whenever i would stop there would be Ali Babar and his 40 mates surround the bike immediately, all wanting to look with their fingers. I put it to the test, i stopped at a petrol station, and.....nothing. The fella serving said good morning, filled my tank, and that was it. No crowds, no questions, no touching or twisting the throttle or pulling the clutch in, great. I stopped at a fruit stall, bought a couple of bananas, no crowds, no touching, no twisting, no questions, i knew i was going to like this place.
I carried on driving, really enjoying the scenes of the Himalayas. Eventually i caught up a guy on another motorbike, i could tell he was a westerner. We stopped and had a chat, then carried on together until we ended up in a place called Pokhara. I didn't know this but Pokhara is a tourist resort situated by the side of a lake. It offers trekking tours, paragliding, rafting, kayaking etc. I found a hotel and had a shower. The westerner was a 7 foot tall German guy called Tilo, he had hired the bike for 6 days and had just gone around Nepal touring. We met up for dinner and had a chat.
The next day i went for a ride on my motorbike without all the luggage on. I found a trail just outside a village and decided to go up it. There was a young kid about 12 years old, it was obvious he had been sent to the local village to fetch water. He spoke quite good English and asked if i could give him a ride up the trail, 'No problem kid' i said. When i dropped him off he asked if i could give him a lift back into Pokhara when i came back along the trail 'No problem kid' i said. I gave him a lift the 20km back into town. He was really excited, it can't be very often he got the chance to ride on the back of a westerners big motorbike, i hope he remembers the ride for the rest of his life.
Just by chance i found a place in Pokhara that sold Royal Enfields as part of a package deal. The deal included the purchase of a Royal Enfield Bullet, riding lessons and mechanic skills for 800 euros. The company was called 'Hearts and Tears' their web address is http://www.heartsandtears.com/
I decided to stay in Pokhara for 3 nights before moving on to Chitwan jungle reserve. Rick, the hearts and tears owner, told me about a particular route to go that passed the reserve. The reserve offered tiger viewing tours, safaris and elephant rides, but i was only interested in riding my motorbike. I stayed there for one night before heading off again. I followed the route that Rick told me about, it took me up and over a mountain, the road and scenery was probably the best road i have been on in 29 years of riding motorbikes, thanks Rick. I carried on until i reached Kathmandu.
The next day (8th or 9th of November, i can't keep track of the days anymore) i got in touch with a shipping agent to sort out the freighting of my bike to Turkey, after the experience in India i really didn't want to ride through Pakistan. We got the paperwork sorted, we got the bike boxed up, he got his money. It was interesting watching 8 guys lift the crate onto the weighing scales, 255kg kid. After that they lifted it onto the xray machine, then off the xray machine, well done lads.
I was still in the frame of mind that whenever i would stop there would be Ali Babar and his 40 mates surround the bike immediately, all wanting to look with their fingers. I put it to the test, i stopped at a petrol station, and.....nothing. The fella serving said good morning, filled my tank, and that was it. No crowds, no questions, no touching or twisting the throttle or pulling the clutch in, great. I stopped at a fruit stall, bought a couple of bananas, no crowds, no touching, no twisting, no questions, i knew i was going to like this place.
I carried on driving, really enjoying the scenes of the Himalayas. Eventually i caught up a guy on another motorbike, i could tell he was a westerner. We stopped and had a chat, then carried on together until we ended up in a place called Pokhara. I didn't know this but Pokhara is a tourist resort situated by the side of a lake. It offers trekking tours, paragliding, rafting, kayaking etc. I found a hotel and had a shower. The westerner was a 7 foot tall German guy called Tilo, he had hired the bike for 6 days and had just gone around Nepal touring. We met up for dinner and had a chat.
The next day i went for a ride on my motorbike without all the luggage on. I found a trail just outside a village and decided to go up it. There was a young kid about 12 years old, it was obvious he had been sent to the local village to fetch water. He spoke quite good English and asked if i could give him a ride up the trail, 'No problem kid' i said. When i dropped him off he asked if i could give him a lift back into Pokhara when i came back along the trail 'No problem kid' i said. I gave him a lift the 20km back into town. He was really excited, it can't be very often he got the chance to ride on the back of a westerners big motorbike, i hope he remembers the ride for the rest of his life.
Just by chance i found a place in Pokhara that sold Royal Enfields as part of a package deal. The deal included the purchase of a Royal Enfield Bullet, riding lessons and mechanic skills for 800 euros. The company was called 'Hearts and Tears' their web address is http://www.heartsandtears.com/
I decided to stay in Pokhara for 3 nights before moving on to Chitwan jungle reserve. Rick, the hearts and tears owner, told me about a particular route to go that passed the reserve. The reserve offered tiger viewing tours, safaris and elephant rides, but i was only interested in riding my motorbike. I stayed there for one night before heading off again. I followed the route that Rick told me about, it took me up and over a mountain, the road and scenery was probably the best road i have been on in 29 years of riding motorbikes, thanks Rick. I carried on until i reached Kathmandu.
The next day (8th or 9th of November, i can't keep track of the days anymore) i got in touch with a shipping agent to sort out the freighting of my bike to Turkey, after the experience in India i really didn't want to ride through Pakistan. We got the paperwork sorted, we got the bike boxed up, he got his money. It was interesting watching 8 guys lift the crate onto the weighing scales, 255kg kid. After that they lifted it onto the xray machine, then off the xray machine, well done lads.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Chennai to Nepal
I was beginning to feel that i was a bit behind schedule, plus, i had my cheapo watch stolen off the bike, plus, i had my phone charging stuff and usb cable stolen so i decided to cut and run and get from Chennai to Nepal as quick as i could. I set off from Chennai on the 29th of October, sometimes riding as much as 14 hours in the day to make up for lost time. Finding safe places to rest up for the night was very difficult. I even camped out in the woods one night in order to escape the hoards of people that the bike attracts. However, after a while i realised that there were tigers in them theer woods so i packed up in complete darkness and cleared off again. Its not a very good idea to drive in India when its dark, but this was what i was prepared to do to ensure nothing else was stolen. One of my pictures shows a compressor room behind a petrol station that i slept in one night. The bike was out of sight so no one really knew i was there. In the morning i left the bike for about 3 minutes, during which time the charging stuff was stolen, what about that then?
I arrived on the border of Nepal on the 3rd of November. After sorting my carnet out at the Indian customs, then sorting my passport out at the immigration office, then exchanging my Indian rupees at the money exchange office, i was allowed to drive through no-mans land and into Nepal.
I arrived on the border of Nepal on the 3rd of November. After sorting my carnet out at the Indian customs, then sorting my passport out at the immigration office, then exchanging my Indian rupees at the money exchange office, i was allowed to drive through no-mans land and into Nepal.
After sorting my passport out at the Nepalese immigration office, then sorting my carnet out at the customs office, i was allowed through into Nepal. The differences between the 2 countries was stark. I knew i was going to like Nepal.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
28/10/09 'This is it'
'Today is gunna be the day that i get my motorbike'. As arranged i went to the clearing agents office for 10.30, the taxi driver having helped himself to some of my change. More paperwork was signed then we set off for the docks in search of my bike.
After clearing a couple of checkpoints on the way into the port, we made our way deep into the storage area. I was expecting plenty of damage being done to the bike whilst it was in transit. The first crate we came to contained a bike, the crate had suffered a bi of damage but the bike looked ok, i started to worry. We searched high and low but we couldn't find my crate.
We went to another warehouse. Once again once again there was another damaged crate containing a brand new 1200 BMW. Apparently the bike had been there for 2 years, no one having collected it.
Things weren't looking good really, 2 bikes, 2 damaged crates. The next warehouse we came to contained my crate, to my surprise it looked intact with no signs of damage. I was told not to touch the crate until the customs man had inspected it. An hour later i was allowed to open the crate in front of the customs man. He checked everything as i unpacked and made sure everything tallied with the carnet.
When i packed the bike in the crate in Darwin, i made sure that it would be easy to get it back up and running. Twenty minutes later i was ready to roll. However, i was then told to hurry up and wait while the customs man went back to his office on the other side of town so he could stamp my papers, the only trouble now was that it was lunch time.
The warehouse boys started to gather round the bike while i waited for the customs man. A group of about 10 were first on the scene. Each one of them felt it was their duty to check that the throttle cable still worked. There were also 3 main questions, how much? Where you from? How many km to the litre. 1 lakh, England, 20 to the litre being the answers.
The 10 guys disappeared to be replaced by another 10 guys. Same check of the throttle cable, same questions. The 10 guys disappeared to be replaced by the first 10 guys who by now had finished their lunch. 1 lakh, England, 20 to the litre. They then disappeared to be rep......., it just went on and on.
Finally, as if by magic, the clearing agent appeared with his 2 sidekicks. I was then told i had to pay a storage charge, what about that then? I was now ready to leave the port. The 2 sidekicks then asked me to follow them to the gates, explaining to me that they were both expecting a 'gift'. Eventually i got the bike outside the gates. 'Can we please have our gift'? 'No mate' i said, 'You have been paid by your boss and i have to put a stop to people helping themselves to my money'.
I got down the road and realised that i didn't know the way to the insurance company's office. I had to be there before 15.30 so that i could take out the 'local insurance'. I asked a tuk tuk driver if he could lead the way and i would follow him. He wouldn't do it but insisted that i give him a 'gift' for talking to him. His mate agreed and off we went to the insurance office. I got there about 15.20, just in time. I then had to push the bike about a mile against the traffic to the insurance mans office. I had my full riding gear on and i was sweating like a kipper when i got there.
The bike was like a magnet. Ten guys instantly gathered, checking my throttle again, 1 lakh, England, 20 to the litre. To cut a very long story short, i got 3rd party insurance for 1 year for 10 quid, what about that then? I managed to find my way back to the hotel car park. The security man said, 'Can't park that theer kid' or words to that effect. The hotel manager was called, who was a decent friend of mine, and in the bike went, much to the dislike of the security man.
The time was now about 18.00. I got into the hotel room and stripped off. The sweat was pouring down my arms and legs and i was very dehydrated and hungry. Two litres of water, a chicken masala and a shower later i was sorted. I had managed to get everything sorted so i planned to leave the next morning. The middle of the night brought a tremendous storm, the lightening cracks were by far the loudest i had ever heard. I could only hope that the bike would be ok in the morning.
After clearing a couple of checkpoints on the way into the port, we made our way deep into the storage area. I was expecting plenty of damage being done to the bike whilst it was in transit. The first crate we came to contained a bike, the crate had suffered a bi of damage but the bike looked ok, i started to worry. We searched high and low but we couldn't find my crate.
We went to another warehouse. Once again once again there was another damaged crate containing a brand new 1200 BMW. Apparently the bike had been there for 2 years, no one having collected it.
Things weren't looking good really, 2 bikes, 2 damaged crates. The next warehouse we came to contained my crate, to my surprise it looked intact with no signs of damage. I was told not to touch the crate until the customs man had inspected it. An hour later i was allowed to open the crate in front of the customs man. He checked everything as i unpacked and made sure everything tallied with the carnet.
When i packed the bike in the crate in Darwin, i made sure that it would be easy to get it back up and running. Twenty minutes later i was ready to roll. However, i was then told to hurry up and wait while the customs man went back to his office on the other side of town so he could stamp my papers, the only trouble now was that it was lunch time.
The warehouse boys started to gather round the bike while i waited for the customs man. A group of about 10 were first on the scene. Each one of them felt it was their duty to check that the throttle cable still worked. There were also 3 main questions, how much? Where you from? How many km to the litre. 1 lakh, England, 20 to the litre being the answers.
The 10 guys disappeared to be replaced by another 10 guys. Same check of the throttle cable, same questions. The 10 guys disappeared to be replaced by the first 10 guys who by now had finished their lunch. 1 lakh, England, 20 to the litre. They then disappeared to be rep......., it just went on and on.
Finally, as if by magic, the clearing agent appeared with his 2 sidekicks. I was then told i had to pay a storage charge, what about that then? I was now ready to leave the port. The 2 sidekicks then asked me to follow them to the gates, explaining to me that they were both expecting a 'gift'. Eventually i got the bike outside the gates. 'Can we please have our gift'? 'No mate' i said, 'You have been paid by your boss and i have to put a stop to people helping themselves to my money'.
I got down the road and realised that i didn't know the way to the insurance company's office. I had to be there before 15.30 so that i could take out the 'local insurance'. I asked a tuk tuk driver if he could lead the way and i would follow him. He wouldn't do it but insisted that i give him a 'gift' for talking to him. His mate agreed and off we went to the insurance office. I got there about 15.20, just in time. I then had to push the bike about a mile against the traffic to the insurance mans office. I had my full riding gear on and i was sweating like a kipper when i got there.
The bike was like a magnet. Ten guys instantly gathered, checking my throttle again, 1 lakh, England, 20 to the litre. To cut a very long story short, i got 3rd party insurance for 1 year for 10 quid, what about that then? I managed to find my way back to the hotel car park. The security man said, 'Can't park that theer kid' or words to that effect. The hotel manager was called, who was a decent friend of mine, and in the bike went, much to the dislike of the security man.
The time was now about 18.00. I got into the hotel room and stripped off. The sweat was pouring down my arms and legs and i was very dehydrated and hungry. Two litres of water, a chicken masala and a shower later i was sorted. I had managed to get everything sorted so i planned to leave the next morning. The middle of the night brought a tremendous storm, the lightening cracks were by far the loudest i had ever heard. I could only hope that the bike would be ok in the morning.
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