Our stories

How to prepare for driving through a country on the brink of civil war?

Egypt, How to, The journey, TurmoilAug 21 20133 Comments

Thanks to all of you who have sent us warning messages. We actually changed our route slightly because of them.

We are now at Istanbul airport waiting for our flight to Alexandria, and we are getting seriously nervous. Our euphoria about getting the van to Egypt faded away slowly from the moment that we turned on the tv after getting the car through customs. It was the night that 300 people got killed in the fights between Mursi supporter groups and the armed forces. CNN Turkey reported elaborately on the turmoil, showing explicit images of burning churches, government buildings and bodies lying in the streets.

We sat in bed, me with a laptop, Conny with his pad, TV on. We were in Izmir for 4 days and every day we had a late afternoon ritual of reading through all relevant news items on Aljazeera, Spiegel, CNN, NOS and Egyptian websites. And although we didn’t understand CNN Turkey in words, the images are pretty self explanatory. “Any more news on your side?” we ask each other regularly. And the more we read, the more apprehensive we get.

What worries us the most, is not only that the clashes grow more violent and the number of people killed is over 900 now and growing. Also that Egypt is isolating itself from the western world, and may come to see foreigners as having a role in the conflict. The groups selarate themselves from each other by using heavy deeds and words, such as terrorists, curfews, war. Will this sentiment gain ground and will come to include neutral travellers soon?

How to prepare for driving through a country on the brink of civil war?!

Second step, after following developments closely first, is that we made our visit known by registering ourselves at the Dutch embassy (those whimps found safety in the Hilton Hotel, as if a Formula 1 hotel would never be as safe :-). Good that at least someone there knows that we are on Egyptian grounds. The first few days we have a hotel there (while waiting for the vessel), they are picking us up from the airport.

We have changed our route via Suez, Hurgada, Luxor to Aswan. There isn’t a bigger circle around Cairo imaginable! Unfortunately, even Luxor and Suez had their share in the conflict and had to mourn several deaths.

One small party in the conflict are the neutral ones, choosing not to take an obvious side. Every day during the first 5 minutes of the curfew, they protest against the violence and killings. They also make a statement on the effect all this has on the economic situation. They protest by hitting on pots on pans, their voices are the drumming sticks & spoons.

We’ll keep on the down low, I will be wearing my headscarf, but if things get rough, maybe our pots & pans can help us in hazardous situations. What else can one do, when one doesn’t know what to expect on the road? Based on nothing but faith in our own judgement and ‘streetwiseness’ (as far as we have any when living in safe Germany and Holland), we somehow both have the confidence that we’ll get through this safely.

Crazy idea: only to be on the street 5 times a day when all muslims are supposed to be head down and noses on the carpets facing Mecca. Perfect moment to drive by unnoticed. Not pratical, you say? Hmm, at least on Holy Fridays we’ll make sure that we are out of sight of angry men with rifles and/or beards.

And first let’s see if we can get out of the Airport when we arrive at 2 a.m.: there is a curfew from 7 pm to dawn…

…And the bushi is on board!

Izmir, RoRo shipping, The car, The journey, TurkeyAug 17 20132 Comments

All those days calling and mailing paid off: we have gotten the van a spot on the Grand Meditteraneo from Izmir to Alexandria! The last shipment from one of the last cargo carriers shipping to Egypt or eastern Africa. Not only because of the political situation services are cancelled, but also because of a current low point in the car selling business. So we are happy and relieved that we found our ride a spot. We will fly from Izmir via Istanbul to Alexandria, where we will wait until we can pick it up in the harbour.

It wasn’t all that easy to figure out this value chain. Grimaldi Lines is our shipper, who drive the Bushi from the dock onto their vessel, ship it and offload it. Then there are custom brokers, the ‘sjacheraar’ type of guys who arrange everything with customs. They run around from office to office, all carrying a black (fake) leather briefcase, and leave some money here and there, above the table as well as under the table. All dressed in the typical broker smoking: baggy jeans, old sneakers, polo shirt and five o’clock shadow beards.

Grimaldi introduced us to our broker guy and bargained for us. They both take 40% of the total price, the remaining 20% is for the port authorities. For us, it meant paying and then waiting and waiting until our broker hustler did his thing and came out of the office with a final okay. The Bushi is now parked between 3000 brand new Renaults waiting to be shipped.

We whip the car RoRo (Roll on and roll off), which means that the cars are not in a container but on open deck, keys inside, and are accessible in the ports as well as on the vessel. Meaning a risk of getting our car back without mirrors or missing interior parts. We have read stories from people who actually weld the doors before shipment and send chairs, dashboard and mirrors separately in containers (!). We have locked all valuables in the trunk, bought an extra lock and fingers crossed that we find it back in one peace in Egypt. Hopefully the fact that Mitsubishi is not Mercedes will help. Let’s see!

During the waiting days, we visited a car workshop area with dozens of small and very basic workshops, offering everything for those 4 wheeled loved ones: electricity, washing, welding, maintenance, paint jobs, anything. We had a problem with the solar panel not delivering enough voltage to operate our coolbox. Our do it yourself construction, done by a former consultant and a former manager without any decent knowledge on wiring, proved not to be so solid.

Turned out to be my fault: despite lessons from papa van Es in building wired stuff, I cut the + and – wires simultaneously during preparations. A firework of sparkles, a horrible smell and me with a hot cable cutter in the hand and a terrified look on the face. I almost electrocuted myself (well, okay, it was only 12 Volt), but definitely melted down some wires. The electricity king exchanged the black and melted remainders.

Also the distribution belts were completely worn off. We couldn’t explain what caused the squeeking. I imitated the noice, but while I was squeeking he only looked at me with a very strange look on his face. So he called his German speaking buddy, pressed Conny the phone in his hand and everything was translated quickly. And everything ran smoothly again!

After we paid, the man was so besides himself from joy (that’s how you know you definitely paid too much), that he invited us to beers & dinner with his friends. We had a wonderfull fish that night, Conny many beers, the (all big bellied) men 2 bottles of Raki, me one coke and water.

And as we drove home, Conny singing loudly on the passengers seat, enjoying the silence of non-squeeking distribution belts, we knew we had a very good day.

Does our journey end here?

UncategorizedAug 12 20136 Comments

We planned to take the ferry from Iskenderun to Port Said, Egypt. But we learned here in Istanbul, that all ferry services are cancelled until further notice. SAY WHAT?!

Due to the political situation and turmoil in Egypt, the combination of car + driver isn’t transported there anymore. Italy already stopped its ferry services shortly after Mubarak was forced to leave his position. Supposedly because they had such tight connections. Soon other European countries followed their example and so we are here, in Istanbul, with all ferries docked in the harbours.

We have tried everything. First we called and mailed several operators in Turkey (quite difficult due to language), Greece (even more difficult). We looked at shipping possibilities in containers or RoRo (these are large vessels that only transport cars that are rolled on and rolled off). We tried the ports in Egypt, Sudan Djibouti and Kenya, but all without success. All countries around the Mediterranean sea avoid Egypt, and to the surrounding countries we only found connections from Hamburg or Antwerp. With every ‘No, sorry’ our hope diminished and we became at first quieter and quieter.

After this was a definite dead end, we looked at an overland route: taking the ferry to Lebanon, drive through Israel and Jordan and then take the ferry to Egypt. ‘That should work!’ we though hopefully. Although the ministries of foreign affairs advised strongly against travelling to most parts of these countries, it seemed the only way to us so we were willing to take the risk. Main obstacle would be Sudan, which you aren’t allowed into when it becomes apparent that you visited Israel before. But we’ll sort that out once we get there, we figured. “Shit!” a loud swear from Connie. “The borders between Lebanon and Israel are hermetically closed.” Less hope at the table…

Looked at the route of driving through Iran or Saudi Arabia, but this last country is not accessible unless you are married. We considered driving through the Caucasus to Asia, an interesting challenge as well. (Pity of those hundreds of euros spent on malaria pills, lonely planets and vaccinations). But there is just too much yak tea, too little people. But most of all the language forms a barrier. In practically every country your visit is anonymous, impersonal. No reading newspapers, no talking to people. Like watching a theatre play with no sound. That’s at least how we imagined it, also after experiences Turkish camping with enormous problems to communicate.

So basically we are stuck here in Turkey!

You can imagine how we feel a little fit. First 2 weeks of our grand adventure and already bound due to political affairs. It’s the first time that we experience to be unable to visit a country, or that we in a situation that we can’t talk our way out of with a big smile. Physically limited. A whole new experience.

As a last resort we looked at shipping from the Netherlands, Antwerp or Hamburg. That was expensive and time consuming, but our only option. This would have looked like this… (car on the blue line, we flying on the red line) Then we found a ferry from Salerno, Italy to Alexandria with Grimaldi Lines. And just minutes before Conny booked the ferry to Italy (we felt slightly defeated but also confident that we had done everything in our power to get on a boat), we though: let’s just try this one phone number we got from some intermediate guy in Turkey.

And it seems like we are off! Hopefully! From Izmir to Alexandria. Bushi only, of course, we’ll fly and collect him in the port of Alexandria. Wednesday we’ll know for sure. And otherwise: see you soon in NL/Germany during the shipment of the Bushi to Djibouti. We’ll keep you posted.

We are drinking some celebration beers tonight!

Camping under Turkish skies

Europe, The journey, TurkeyAug 11 20132 Comments

Those of us who enjoy camping once in awhile know what makes it enjoyable, but also annoying at times. Here in Turkey, camping is a bit different from what we have experienced before in Europe.

4 Differences between Turkish and West-European camping

Here’s one big camping space. In West-Europe, you find clean lines separating the one camping space from the other. This neat organization gives peace of mind to the campers, because everybody knows what lines not to cross. (And we look slightly offended when others take more space than they are officially entitled to…). Here people just built their canvas homes as they see fit. Big families close together, cars parked randomly. This means dodging around, trying not to trip on electricity wires.
The whole Brady-bunch comes along. The Turks don’t just camp with a typical mom-dad-2 kids setting, but take their whole family including aunts, uncles, grandparents and distant cousins. Groups are parties of at least 10 people. As opposed to the Dutch or Germans, who would rather avoid seeing ‘that side of the family’ more than once a year during Christmas. Or it just doesn’t fit into their VW Passat or mobile home.
Smokey Joe’s everywhere. The only thing the Turks use Campinggaz for, is making tea. For lunch, between snacks and dinner, everything is tossed on a BBQ. They just love that smoke & fire, and it seems almost like a genetic thing because all families do it. From about 1 pm, the first smoke comes our way and lasts long after we go to bed. Meanwhile our skin, hair and clothes smell like grilled meat. The sacks of coal don’t just contain coals, but are do-it-yourself packages with some wood and a plastic glove in it. Nice business idea?
The Turks are far more hospitable then we are used to. As foreigner, you are invited for breakfast or dinner. People bring each other fruits, bread or tea. Of course we wanted to return the hospitality by presenting a pack of Maoam, and everybody accepted. In Germany, adults would rather say no to these sugar bombs adored by kids. Would they think it impolite to reject? Or is it something the Dutchees would do, thinking ‘as long as it is free, take it’?

The making friends with the neighbours, we must admit, is sometimes a bit annoying. They come over about 6 times a day, regardless of us reading, resting, eating or changing after swimming. It is not a problem per se, but none of them speak one word of English. So they just sit there, ask for more candy, demand me taking pictures of them, talk Turkish with a hopeful look in their eye we’ll understand (or rather one eye, the other is on Connies tables that the kids are asking for again and again).

One of the girls has definitely reached her teenage years and has hormones racing through her body. ‘Cornelius, handsome, model?’ she whispered to me several times when Conny wasn’t looking. She is the only one that remembers his name correctly. I’m thinking of leaving her a pass photo of him 🙂

One of the fathers carries a piece of man-jewellery, a bracelet made from beads. The Greek also carry the things. Proudly he showed us his shiny arm candy. ‘300 Lira (120 EUR)’ he adds. We nod in admiration. He rushes back to his tent, gets money and shows us 300 Lira in cash, just to make sure we really understand the value of his precious.

Okay, when you try to regard the 1 shower and 2 toilets for ca. 40 women as a luxury that there are at least running water facilities, this Turkish camping experience is really enjoyable. The site is cool and shadowy, Wifi is working and the Black Sea is just around the corner. It is an excellent place to sit & wait, call, email, call again, and waiting some more for the final solution. Waiting for what? We’ll tell in a couple of days once we’ve made a decision.

Cheers!

Dreaming of finding diesel

Europe, The journeyAug 06 20136 Comments

Hi everybody!

First of all, thanks for all those who have registered as follower on our blog. Nice to know there are people at home interested in our whereabouts. We appreciate it! Despite anti-spam measures, it appears that some Polnish unwelcome guests have posted two blogs. I’m on it with increasing safety measures. If they aren’t effective, I’ll put the blog offline while finding definite solutions. We are really sorry if these messages caused any confusion. WordPress convinced me that there is no harm for followers who received a message in their mailbox. Sorry again for the inconvenience.

We have the first week of travel behind us and that already brought some unexpected things. We discovered that we might be wellprepared for Africa, we kind of ‘forgot’ that we also have a few weeks in Eastern Europe.

First stop was in Dalmatia, Croatia. We camped on a nice camping site with a nice little cool breeze, which was a relieve after spending 1000 km in a 40 degrees car. That breeze, however, grew stronger and stronger and as we unfolded the rooftent, we felt like a sailing ship on open sea, but with the anchor out. The car swinged left and right (and so did we in our bed), and the canvas pulled and flapped like a fish alive on dry land. We feared that the canvas would rip even on this first night of our trip. With tail between the legs we closed the top at 4:00 am after very little sleep and sought asylum elsewhere in the van: Conny on the driversseat, me curled up like a shrimp on the floor. A windy initiation ritual of the Bushi!

Next day we drove to Bosnia Herzegovina to visit Mostar, a small town renowned for its historical bridge connecting the muslim and christian part of town. During the Yugoslavian conflict, the bridge was destroyed to make a statement about the inreconcileability of the different parties. This happened recently in 1993 and after the war, the bridge was rebuilt quickly. Mostar was a stunning little town and if you manage to see through all tourists, really worth a visit.

We drove to Montenegro, where we initially thought that there were not much beauties to be seen. Wrong! As we drove towards lake Baia di Kotor on freeway, we were supposed to make a shortcut by ferry. You can imagine the situation: many cars honking, instruction personnel shouting “ticket, biglietta, show me!” Ticket where? I ran to the box office and showed my Croation money and credit card (no opportunity for changing money on the way). “No no only euros in cash!” Bummer. Of all things, we forgot to bring euros. When I asked for an ATM, the cashier waved into a direction, very uninterestedly. Bummed out at our mistake, we took the curvy road along the bay. And with every curve, more beautiful sceneries unfolded. The lake reminded of lake Garda or Como, but the beauty of the surrounding villages mate this scenery without doubt our number 1. In the middle of the clear blue water, 2 small islands with mosque and church on in.

We visited the historic village of Kotor, which was a jaw dropping surprise. Behind the entrance gate of the city walls, historic buildings and small streets that reminded of Siena and Nice. Markets with fresh fruits and fish, covered by a comfortable 38 degrees temperature blanket.

Must admit, we hat to dodge between Japanese tourists again (fully covered with hats, panty hoses and a sort of white pancake on their face to prevent suntanning), a sharp contrast with the beautiful Montenegran women in light summerdresses. An absolute perfect holiday spot for a few days of sniffing mediterranean air!

Yesterday, after crossing Albania (not much to report there, expect about 1000 gas stations), we drove to Greece and were looking for a camping and supermarket in the first city center after the border. ‘Ah, an Aldi. Great’ we thought. Conny was nervous because he thought he saw some Greeks burning German flags on the news and was afraid they would wait for us after the border. Well, the Aldi then feels like a sort of German embassy, safe grounds. Unfortunately closed 2 minutes because we forgot about the our time distance, we idiots. And nowhere a camping to be found either. We texted our helpline, papa Van Es. He texted us 2 campings. Which would have been very helpful, but we ran out of gas! Black of night, nowhere gasstations to be found (in contrast to Albania). So we parked next to the nearest Shell, popped up the roof and fell asleep, dreaming of finding diesel the next day.

Raiders of the lost Carnet

Europe, Preparations, UncategorizedAug 02 20132 Comments

The things that cause a lot of frustration, is the paperwork. We thought that if you drive to Africa, you get yourself a few visa, you just drive your iron horse to the border, you hand over soms baksjiesj to pay for a quick processing and that you celebrate your first meters in the new country with an impossible high exchange rate. Wrong! What you really need is a Carnet de Passage. This is a booklet with 25 coupns that you have to get stamped upon entry and exit of every country. These little coupons namely prove that you don’t sell your vehicle to an eager African buyer and that we, Western tourists, don’t ‘forget’ to pay import taxes. This couponbooklet is supplied by the ADAC (the German sister organisation of the ANWB), who want to see a 5000 EUR guarantee on their bank account before they start lifting a finger. No stamps, no money back. This means that when your ride gets stolen or you drive it total loss, you probably won’t see a penny back from your 5000 EUR. In case of a total loss, ADAC advises that you detach a part of your chassis with a saw and bring it in a suitcase with you to Germany. Very Reservoir Dogs for cars. ‘But no guarantees’, they add quickly. He? On what does it depend then, how sad you look with your piece of chassis under your arm there at the ADAC counter in Munich? Anyway this Carnet is the most important travel document and is therefore sent to be signed by receiver. The Carnet is also important for the Sudanese visa, because without this paper, the Sudanese ambassy regards you as unreliable trampler and you you’re not allowed into their country.

However, when we arrived at the german Post, we entered the first phase of desparations. The lady behind the counter told us briskly that she had had the document in her hand, but that is was nowhere to be found now. She shrugged her shoulders. Tsja, she didn’t have a clue, she told us. Again shoulders. It it wasn’t in either of these 2 boxes, the package wasn’t there. Could have been sent back, or with the mailman again. Or somewhere else, she didn’t know really. When threw into the conversation that it was sent to be signed by receiver = bloody delivery guaranteed, she shrugged her shoulders again. We gave up. We called the ADAC in desparation. They were so generous to supply us a second version for administration costs only. How much these admin costs were? ‘Exactly 200 EUR, the amount that we paid initially. Why?’

After many calls here and there, visit the Post again (again shrugged shoulders, this time by another Post lady), deeper phases of desparation, the coupon sheet was finally delivered back to Dietlingen through Pforzheim and Stuttgart. Thank god for that.

So were were back in action: we sent our passes to the Sudanese in Berlin, scanned the coupons and mailed everything to Berlin. I called every day to Berlin to check if our paperwork had their attention. And it worked! 5 days later we received our passes with visa by express. Now focussing on the last details before we are off towards the Turkish harbour Iskenderun!