After laid-back Bulgaria we crossed the (hectic) border into Turkey. It took us about two hours, the longest by far, due to confusion between the letter ‘I’ and the number ‘1’ – easily done I suppose, if it wasn’t typed on every document, not to mention the number plate. We were sent to an inspection hangar on the side of the crossing, ready (begrudgingly) to empty the Landrover and trailer. After almost 30 mins of waiting Griff enquired as to why we were there, to find that no-one knew why, and what’s more they were confused as to how we’d entered as we were not on the system. It eventually transpired the registration plate had been incorrectly entered, it was re-entered and we were finally allowed to legally enter the country. The chaos of the border was just the beginning! (more…)
Bulgaria turned out to be all about the mountains…
Following our swift exit from Serbia the signs at the Bulgarian border control explained in great detail the uniforms of the ‘real’ police and that they only drove Opel Astra’s along with other details. A little daunting at first but we soon realised why these signs were in place as no less than 50km down the road we passed roadside stalls selling police and military uniforms! (more…)
There didn’t seem like there was much to see or do in Serbia.
OK, maybe we are not being entirely fair to the country as a whole as we hadn’t researched it much and only had our Bradt guide for information. Coupled with the fact that we were trying to keep our route as direct as possible also wouldn’t have helped the cause.