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Vehicle to this place: Motorbike

You know what it is like to perpetually smell like burnt gasoline, or dirt under your fingernails from tires that refuse to keep their proper shape and pressure. Flies in your face, either too hot or too cold, but you refuse to submit to that fate of

Logbooks written by Gypsyprincess

Into Turkey!

31. July 2008 | en

But leave Bulgaria we did, and I have to admit I found myself much more excited about the prospect than I had anticipated. I lived in Istanbul for a couple of months (see Operation Super Nanny), but that was a very bitter sweet experience. Istanbul was so great, the family I lived with so insane, that I was not sure how returning was going to feel. Considering I nearly peed myself with excitement as we crossed the border (or was that just the fact that unlike every other nationality that pays 15 Euro to get in, Canadians pay 45!) I think this new part of the trip is going to be great!

I am also starting to really slip into trip mode. I am becoming less and less concerned about where we actually camp (this night we literally camped on the side of the road, just slightly up the hill a little, not that I was enthusiastic about the spot, I just accepted it, but when the next morning came and we found the police had not been called I found all my fears of such public wild camping being relieved, much like they had been in Argentina).