Notebook

This year’s summer travels lead me to Greece, Turkey and Poland through Austria, Slovenia, Croatia, Serbia, Macedonia (FYROM) and Czech Republic. Following some thoughts and reports transcribed from my little notebook. It’s a mix-up of sentences, juxtaposition of nouns, languages and photos; occasionally also photos of the notebook where I thought this could impress writing. Vocabulary translations are first Greek, second Turkish; or only Turkish*; mostly phonetics only. Have your own idea of this eventful three weeks when I covered 10 countries and crossed borders 17 times. * Somewhen I discovered that everybody in the village of Galini spoke Turkish because they are part of the Turkish minority in eastern Greece. Thus, I would not have that much contact to Greeks only speking Greek and it would of course be harder to remember vocabulary in both languages.

TOC
Some preparations
To Greece
First days in Greece
Learning some language, preparations for Turkey and a reciepe
To Turkey
Hitchhiker’s Gathering
Hitchhiking back and Istanbul
Greece again and the trip to Dresden
Poland
Back home

Some preparations

8/8-14 Guça, 18:00 hinterm Stadion (behind the stadium)
8/13-15 LJ, Conny
8/12-20 Trabzon* – Of – Uzungöl – Demirkapı
Of: rechts in der Stadt nach (in the village right to) Çaykara/Bayburt/Uzungöl, pass by Dernekapzari + Çaykara, links nach (left to) Uzungöl
Uzungöl: fragen nach (ask for) Demirkapı am anderen Ende des Sees (at the other side of the lake), dem Fluß folgend (following the river): white road
nach (after) 6-7 km at a crossing with a bridge indicating “Muldat Yaylası” + “Demirkapı Köyü” -> stop + suchen (search)
Location angegeben mit (location specified as) Uzungöl Richtung (to direction of) Demirkapı at a crossing of two rivers, Lichtung im Wald (clearing in the forest)
* sights: Sümela (Kloster im Berg abbey in the mountain), Zigana (Urlaubsdorf holiday village)
8/22 Dresden

Calendar in the notebook, day by day ammended by marks

To Greece

I started in Augsburg on Sunday morning, August 7, and it was pouring down. Entering Slovenia after Karawanken Tunnel it became enjoyably warm (as always) and nothing remarkable happened on the road through Croatia and Serbia besides a beautiful sunraise south of Belgrade.
Except one fact: I did not see one single hitchhiker on the whole way. I stopped at some important service stations before motorway junctions (also to go some trips down memory lane where I was waiting last year), but – nobody. Ah, worth a note: First I wanted to hitchhike to Greece, too. But the longer I studied my maps before the certain I became that hitchhiking to eastern Greece, eastern Turkey, back up to Poland and back home would not be “holidays” in three weeks. So I decided to take the car to Greece and have a look for some people I could assist on the road.
At the Serbian – Macedonian border station I had a feeling of somehow leaving civilization. It was similar some years before when I entered Belarus. Maybe it’s due to the presence of visibly worn weapons or the stringent controls. Anyway, I don’t like borders.
At the passport control I also had to show my car insurance green card. I had read before that it’s mandatory to have this piece of paper available in the car and also that “MK” has to be included in the list of countries. Of course I had checked that before leaving home and was therefore confident giving the paper to the officer. Nevertheless he noticed what I did not: the paper showed a due date one month ago and was therefore “invalid”. I begged to differ from the officer’s opinion because the insurance comany, circumstances and also the car is still the same. But of course such a way of viewing things is worth nothing in military-bureaucratic systems. There were two options: turn over and enter Greece through Bulgaria which means to go a long way round, or to buy a 15 days car insurance for Macedonia at the yellow car some meters right next to the officer’s hut. Maybe I was lucky being on the main transit route for this opportunity, but we all know what this papers are worth in case of need.

A piece of paper worth 50 Euros

Macedonia

Next to the Macedonian motorway

Macedonia has a beautiful landscape, the motorway was at bad quality in regard to pavement and more a scenic road. I could imagine figuratively how the Macedonian whine grows when I saw the mountains.

Statistics

show Aug2011 to GR reduced on a larger map	Start of tracking: August 7, 2011 11:50:55 Time overall: 30:31:35 Time in movement: 28:46:18 Time of breaks: 01:45:17 Length: 1876,948 km Minimum height: 36,40 m Maximum height: 1348,80 m Altitude difference (up): 13240,60 m Altitude difference (down): -13694,80 m

Elevation models:

2D elevation model of the track to Greece

3D elevation model of the track to Greece

First days in Greece

Monday, August 8: Arrived Galini (Γαλήνη) in the afternoon after driving on the scenic motorway, first missed the enty to the house and drove around in the village with very tiny streets, finally asked a local old man for the house of “Nichat Chasanoglou” who was his neighbour, chilling in the garden, was showed around in the house and the garden where many vegetables and friuts grew, got my own room. Visited Xanthi (Ξάνθη) in the evening. Eating, all the time eating. There’s no crisis visible for the people. They behave like always, go out, spend money, consume – don’t think of reducing any of their human rights. They only notice their government must have panic, taxes are remarkably raised and some new ones were also created. They make fun of their government, know that “Merkel and all the rest” will help out the Greek government. Not a bad way of life – why should people care for if a government ruined itself?

Tuesday, August 9: Went with Nichat, Eski (the niece of Anife) and Berkay (Eski’s brother, the son of Emne) to Komotini (Κομοτηνή), noticed the tobacco fields all around, went 15 minutes by car to the sea and chilled at 35 degrees at the beach, mosks and churches side by side in every village, in the evening went with Nichat to a taverna in the hills of Iasmos. Discussions about historical politic questions of Greece (Zyprus and the former dictatorship of Greece, Macedonia and “it’s” port Thessaloniki, the flag of Virginia corresponding to tobacco). Last year, the village’s madwoman has lighted the forest some hundered meters right above here. “Because it was so cold.”

On the motorway to eastern Greece

Xanthi, everybody is out in the evening - also during the week

Komotini

Komotini

Komotini

Komotini

Beach at Fanari

Galini at the top left corner

Iasmos in the night

Wednesday, August 10: Iasmos, going to a butcher’s shop to buy meat for a barbecue in the evening. There is a wooden chopping block in the middle of the room where the meat from the cooling room is prepared right before selling. Some chairs for waiting customers complement the furnishing, nothing else. The meat is ordered and payed in full kilos, there’s no graduation with grams. On the way back to the village Nichat shows me how to harvest tobacco leaves. Fixed the garden entry gate with some concrete with Nichat (all streets in the village were destroyed due to a new water pipe system installed earier this year).
Constant flow of visitors in the garden: the father of Şule arrives, later one of Nichat’s uncles. Ramadan means no consumption for 16 hours, at 5 am the religious muslims eat and drink and at 9 pm again, in between there’s no eating, drinking, not even a chewing gum. Nichat quickly dons a T-shirt, when his uncle arrives (who is a religious man). We have to wait until the visitor is gone. I go to sleep somewhat.
After one hour Berkay runs into my room “Let’s go swim!” And so we do. We meet some friends of Şule. Many twens from Munich among them, however, anybody speaks German. Some good discussions about turkish-greek culture in the border area which is, at least since the first third of the 90-ies, a truly lived melting pot.
Barbecue in the evening, at least one kilogram of meat for everybody. Greek Retsina (has got the lot) and it is RAINY and stormy. From time to time the lights are off. Rain does good to the land. Nichat can then also switch the water pump on again, the groundwater level lowered five meters in early August.
Why tasts all the fruits and vegetables so good here? Much sun and little water?

Borite na mas ferete ena frappe glico horis kala (Please bring a cold coffee without milk with sugar) ke (and) mia bierra (a beer). (Greek)

Thursday, August 11: Because of the rain yesterday there’s a day off for the tobacco and cotton pickers. And therefore today is Family Visiting Day. Permanently all kinds of people arrive, relatives of anywhom – uncles, aunts, cousins and so on.
Until 2 pm there’s continual coming and going. We drive the father of Emne back home. He’s tobacco farmer and explains how that works. Harvesting, ten days drying, moisten and dry again and finally put the leaves in boxes. Later that becomes Marlboro (or something else by Phillip Morris).
A turtle crosses the country road. Walkabout in the village (visiting the mosk) and to Anife and Nichat’s real estate. They are squires.
My first own turkish coffee. A gypsy comes to beg. Salutation from youngsters to older people: toch the back of the older’s hand first with the chin and then with the forehead.

Family Visting Day

Berkay, Emne, her mother, Eski, her grandfather, Nichat, Anife, her mother (from left)

Nichat & Eski

Tobacco leaves drying under a plastic roof

The leaves are pierced and beaded with a little cord

Proud to tell a stranger

Cotton

Galini mosk

Galini mosk

Galini mosk

Galini mosk, common room

Galini mosk

Iasmos

Zesve, this cannikin to brew coffee; here with a basic reciepe how to do

I also got one, of course

In the evening I walk a round through the village with Nichat again. We visit Şule’s father at his chicken meadow and have a beer, a bar, the kiosk. Everybody is very friendly and we sit around toghether with everyone and chat. All the older men welcome me and want to know why I’m here. My basic words and half sentences cut a figure.
In the evening we go to a restaurant in the mountains above Xanthi where Nichat proposed marriage to Anife.
Motorway exit is called ΕΞΟΔΟΣ (Exodos).

Friday, August 12: Bazar in Iasmos, beach, visiting Fanari, a harbour, a church at an island in the lake. It’s impossible to find a postcard. At the one hand a mercy that Massa touristica is somewhere else in Greece, at the other hand I’d like to make all the family in rainy Germany jealous.
In the evening we visit a new build hotel next to the stadium of Skoda Xanthi. A band is playing and they have free wireless.

Bazar in Iasmos

Bazar in Iasmos

Fanari

Fanari

Church in the lake

Learning some language, preparation for Turkey and a reciepe

All the following in this paragraph took place – or was notated – during the Greece days in Galini. But it disrupts the flow of reading, so i put it separately.

schönes Wochenende (have a nice weekend) – kalos savato kiriako / i havta (Woche week) sono (Ende end)

M – devdera / pasartesi
D – triti / salı [salr]
M – tetarti / çarşamba
D – pemte / perşembe
F – paraskevi / çuma
S – savato / çumartesi
S – kiriaki / pazar

Galini = Paradies (paradise)

1 EUR = 2,5 TL

Istanbul: Beazet (Stadtteil district), Kapali Carsi, $ Top Kapi Sarai Palas (osman. Museum ottoman museum), Sultan Ahmed Camii, $ Aya Sofia (orthodox. Kirche orthodox church), $ Yere Batan Sarayi (Quellen v. Istanbul springs of Istanbul), Misir Gursisi

Ena elli niko caffe [horis (ohne without) | metrio (mittel medium) | glico (viel much)] zachari (Zucker sugar).
Bir türk caffese scheker le (mit Zucker with sugar).

Chair – trapesi, massa
Table – karekla, sandalye

kalt (cold) – crio, souk [soook]
heiß (hot) – seste, sidjah
Knoblauch (garlic) – skordo, serrim sak
Aubergine (aubergine) – patlljah
Paprika (bell pepper) – bibech
Essig (vinegar) – sirrke
Öl (oil) – jah [jaa]
Salz (salt) – tuss
Petersilie (parsley) – maj donos
Zwiebel (onion) – zsoaahn
Tomate (tomato) – tomate
Zitrone (lemon) – limon
Brot (bread) – psomi, ekmek
Wasser (water) – nero, su
Eier (eggs) – avgo, lmurta
Wurst (sausage) – sudjuhaki, sudjuck
Oliven (olives) – elies, zeitin
Käse (cheese) – feta, peinir
Zimt (cinnamon) – kanella (GR)
Bank, zum Sitzen (bench) – kathisma (GR)
Brüder (brothers) – kardesseler
Rose (rose) – triandafilo (which means “thirty leaves”), gül

Why did I write down that much food vocabulary? I was one day successfully joining Emne in the kitchen. All days before the women empatically banned me from the kitchen while they were working there. First argument was that I’m a guest (and guests have to hold their pockets closed and the mouth shut I learned at the first day from Nichat when I attempted to pay something). And secondly the kitchen is women’s place.
But I felt really uncomfortable just sitting around and waiting till I was served. So I approached Emne when she was preparing salad and helped to peel the skin of grilled vegetables. After that I followed her to the kitchen and asked her all those words (also because I thought it would be helpful when being on the road alone in Turkey).
I like the words su and ekmek. Su is very short, maybe in regard to the importance in that hot and dry area.

Here’s the recipe for the mixed salad [karrschük salat]: Grill aubergine and bell pepper until their skin is black; peel the skin. Chop the peeled aubergine to a mash and add oil, vinegar, salt and garlic. Cut the bell pepper into slices and put it on a plate; add onion and parsley, tomato, lemon juice and salt.

Here the notebook shows the greek alphabet as a table, like there.

1 – ena, bir
2 – dio, iki
3 – tria, üç [ütsch]
4 – desera, dört
5 – pende, beş [besch]
6 – exi, altı
7 – ephta, yedi
8 – octo, sekis
9 – enja, dokus
10 – deca, on

42 shells and stones
I learned counting in Turkish with Eski and we used the stones and shells she collected at the beach.

20 – ikosi, jermi
30 – trianda, otus
14 – saranda, kirk
50 – peninde, elli
100 – ecato, jüz [jüs]
1000 – chilia, bin
10000 – ou bin

ja (yes) – ne, evet/ja
nein (no) – ochi/the …, hayır/degil …
Guten Tag (good day) – kalimera/jassu/jassas (good morning/informal: hello/formal: hello), günai den/merhaba (good day/informal: hello)
Tschüß (bye) – adio, allah smaladgk
Gute Nacht (good night) – kali nichta, iyi geceler
Bitte (you’re welcome) – para kalo, önem il degil
Danke (thanks) – epharisto, teschekür ederim
rauchen erlaubt? (smoking allowed?) – kapnesma epedrepede?, cigara serbestmi?
Entschuldigung (excuse me) – signomi, esür dilerim
hat geschmeckt (it has tasted) – poly oreo, aviet ozun

bus stop … to – statmos leoforiu … tia (Greek)
how much to pay? – posso tha plirosso (Greek)

To Turkey

Good maps of Turkey are difficult to get due to military reasoned secrecy. There are some to download that might help out for an overview.

Saturday, August 13: Nichat, Anife and Emne take me by car to Keşan, Turkey. They pick up Emne’s husband there who arrived from Ankara by bus and are going to go back to Galini. Short after we arrive at Keşan bus station (8:30 am) we see a bus leaving to Istanbul in some minutes. Bustle. Buying the ticket to Istanbul and from there to Of. I understand nothing. Anife and Emne sheperd me like a little child on its first journey and place me in the bus (right after the driver’s seat). Nichat organizes something with one of the bus line employees (I don’t know what, but the boy was visibly more friendly to me then to the other passengers). They beckon to me. I look at them through the huge front window and wish the bus would leave now as soon as possible. I am tourist.

The bus is well organized. There are two drivers with a special state (god), a boy (speaks English, hands drinks and little cakes to the passengers) and a manager who actually only stands around, as a mighty deed lets sort the bags in the trunk according to the passenger’s destinations. Arriving at one of the Otogar (coach) stations a bell man of the bus company immediatly jumps to the bus door shouting the main destinations of the bus into the masses.
Istanbul Otogar station, 12:00 am (200 km). What a bustle. The bus parks somewhere under a bridge and they tell me to get off. Immediatly some people who want to “help” rush towards me. One of them is friendly and indicates “upstairs” to me. Only there the scale of the bus station becomes really clear (three times the size of Munich Airport). I’m lookinhg for a toilet, the well known “Standklo” (toilet where you are standing, not only men) (bay = man). A sign reading “Metro” (one of the bigger ones) and an information desk. She speaks little english. Behind the yellow building, number 49 or 50. There is a waiting room, the information desk vacant. Busses on the other side, yes, I’m right here. The bus starts in two hours and one can leave the luggage here. Non-verbal communication.
On the other side there are shops, drinking Çay (Köfte = snack bar? – no, it means rissole), sitting in the sun. It was cold in the bus. Because my backpack is in the trunk, a little daypack (battery, pullover, water, general map, charger with USB cable) would be nice. It’s not easy to be Globetrotter within metropolises. Maybe hitchhiking would be even more thrilling, but also more interesting on the other hand. I’m looking forward for the route from Of to Demirkapı. A look into the calendar – relaxation in regard to the time (at least I’m already in the country).
How long will the bus ride take? (Istanbul – Of took 20 hours as I learned when I arrived) 1:20 pm – Muezin calls to prayer. It becomes deathly quite, the music stops everywhere, chats come to an abrupt end. The “Betruf” has a special “something”, intuitive. A deafening bleeping of the microphone at the end. If there’s only one single call in this city which is transmitted by speakers to everywhere? [No, Abu Dhabi is the only city in the msulim world where the call-to-prayer is coordinated.] Music switched on.
Bus ride – madness, breaks, stayed too long in the bar once, never knew how long stop, one driver slept in the bus’ trunk.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser. Allahu akbar, Allahu akbar God is Greatest, God is Greatest Ash-hadu al-laa-ilaaha-illallah I bear witness that there is no god but God Ash-hadu anna Muhammad ar-rasulullah I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of God Hayya ‘ala ‘s-salaah Let us go to prayer! Hayya ‘ala ‘l-falaah Let us go to victory! Allahu akbar, Allahu akbar God is Greatest, God is Greatest Laa-ilaaha-illallah There is no god but God Source: www.freesound.org/people/genghis%20attenborough/sounds/69643/

Sunday, August 14: Of (which means “ouch”) in the morning, I’m the last one in the bus. Saw the sign to Uzungöl at the motorway. Bus drivers stopped right at the exit for me. Two kilometers out of the city by feet. A lift after 10 minutes. Loud (very loud) music in the car. The driver stopped directly in front of the camp which meant 20 km detours for him.

Hitchhiker’s gathering

We’re nine people at a cosy place Mathieu has found some months before. Two wild mountain rivers and inpenetrable forest surround us and shield the camp from the white roads. The area is very green, in the mountains and also very humid. But as it’s warm, the steady dizzle doesn’t care. We walk up the hill and I fall into the river during crossing, but nothing happens due to my fast perception. That could have been worse. Campfire. Green!

Arriving (by Mathieu)

Smoker's place

by Mathieu

9 on the back of a loaded Pick-up (by Mathieu)

Sara playing the guitar (by Mathieu)

by Mathieu

Crossing the river (by Mathieu)

Monday, August 15: With Volkan, the Turk from Rize, to Trabzon to pick up his car from the garage and buy some food. “We had coffee in the mall!” Walking to Uzungöl, honey, lift [A], lift [B], lift [C]. Hitchhiking in Turkey works good, but you have to raise your thumb spontaneousley, drivers mustn’t have time to think.

[A] Pickup with older man, who originally wanted to go to a village nearby, but the road is closed due to construction works. So he went to the next town (right into the middle of the centre). We walk out of the town to the road, no chance to get a coffee, all bars are closed – Ramadan.
[B] A few cars pass. The hint not to put out the thumb too early to make use of the spontaneity of the drivers. I shall go first, I look more interesting. A pick-up slows down, the driver shows with his finger pointing to the steering wheel that he’s only on a short trip. He’s nearly passed by, Volkan hectically points his finger to the street and the car stops. He’s going for seven kilometers and we take this lift. I’m at the platform in the back between bags of apples, weights and a balance (so far about calibration), the driver is obviously going to a bazar. I catch an empty bag which is nearly blown away by the air flow. Stop in the next village at the country road.
[C] Thumb out and the first car stops. The man is working in Germany, has a snack bar at that big discotheque near Bielefeld. In the nights he makes good deals there. Earlier he had a vegetable shop and worked in a chocolate factory before. The air condition works as heater at 29°C outside temperature, it’s unendurably hot. He picks up two other boys and tells me about the philosophy of his life “Each day a good deed and somewhen something good will return to him.” Actually it’s forbidden to pick up people waiting for the bus and to overtake at solid lines, but we’re not in Germany here. He’s going to God knows where and we left him directly at the motorway in Trabzon. I slept from Of to here – very cosy.

From the parking lot at the motorway through a pedestrian tunnel directly to a huge mall (Forum Trabzon). Breakfast and coffe. Volkan buys two camping chairs because he doesn’t want to sit on the ground.
I stay at the mall’s coffee terrace while he left to pick up his car from the garage. We’ll meet each full hour here.

Shopping list:
[_] cigarette papers (impossible to get, even in a big european-styled mall)
[x] flour
[x] drinks
[x] tampons (really hard to get, in one of the biggest supermarkets in the mall I got the last (!) box, Volkan and the till girl look at me like I’m a two-headed calf)
[x] rose (for Mathieu, requested when I asked if I should bring anything else, actually I brought a daisy)

No car for Volkan, we hitchhike back. A bit exhausting with all the shopping, from town to town in the heat, water/washing at the mosk. From Çaykara Ford Transit into a village up in the mountains before he goes to Uzungöl. Crazy driver, slippy and very tight road.
Uzungöl. Fatmagül (Volkan’s girlfriend) is already there, she stays in the hotel tonight and is finished with camping. Volkan follows blind. I go alone to the camp with all the food. Notice many women in Burka on their way to the mosk. First time in this frequency.
Twilight begins. Somewhen it’s dark and I follow the road blindly, tap into every second chuckhole (each forming a pond) of the white road. Seven kilometers can be extremely long alone, especially in th dark. Sometime I passed all the houses and start to hope before each curve that the bridge is behind it. But nothing. Frustrated I eat half of the sweetiese (Baklawa). I begin to look right constantly in order not to miss the bridge. But it’s dark. Paranoia (ICD-10 F23.3). Would be a shame to walk past the crossing and end up in the village 12 km afar.
At last! Blowing the whistle (first time this equipment is useful), waiting till they pick me up with the lights. They were already worried about me, thought I’ll never return. The bring alongs amuse, foremost the bottle of Rakki.

Tuesday, August 16: Everybody is leaving: Sara (PT), Marijana (HR), Theo (SE), Theo (SG). Volkan and Fatmagül come back to pick up their tent. Tuncay (Turkish guy) arrives soaked, slipped in the river. First time hitchhiker and couchsurfer and a bit hectic. Brings a dog from the road who is stalking us.
Stairs workshop (reconstructing the old stone wall to a little stair from our living room (leading to the bathroom) to the kitchen). Finger cut. Really good fire.
Tuncay leaves for talking to his parents who will divorce. Green! at the river and good food. Three are still there, those which already met last year in Serbia: Sara (SE), Mathieu (FR) and me. The next gathering is defined to be in Slovenia, near Bled.

Stalking dog

Constructing stairs

Constructing stairs

The empty Rakki bottle was buried under the stairs ...

... containing a little piece of everybody ...

... wrapped with old trousers from Mathieu ...

... which were labelled with regards from everybody.

Last piece

Finished. A great human leftover in the deepest forest.

Wednesday, August 17: I get up late. Three Turks are at the camp chatting with Sara and Mathieu while I’m already trying to sleep. They want to bring us to their village in the evening. This will be our last day at the camp. We build a table in front of the stove in the kitchen and bake some bread. I discover an old path in the forest while collecting wood for the fire. Mathieu and me follow this path, walking through this jungle is not that easy. Finally we’re at the top of a mountain. It begins to darken and we decide to take a direct way down, straight through the cliffy forest. A good idea to have a face cover with you … We arrive in the valley at the river and find a path back to the camp. Mehmet and Faith are already there. We’re packing toghether all our stuff within 20 minutes. It’s already dark. Thank god, no one of us forgot any of the stuff. They bring us to Uzungöl for dinner into the best hotel. We’re smelling like a camp fire. We don’t really fit into the situation and the people looking at us also tell that with their views. We’re going by car to a petrol station 30 km afar to get some of that gas petrol. Faith picks up some tea at home and they feed us with chips and chocolate. Faith also brought some T-shirts for us – he’s working in clothing industry – which we wear as an act of courtesy, but we look terrible with this colors.
Up to the hills. Five kilometers from the last village there is their hut on top of the mountain.
In the car they hear some catchy Arabic (Islamic?) music (نشيد) in a loop. It is downloaded from the internet and from Pakistan Mehmet tells us. I recorded some with the phone:

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One of them I could find, too. It’s called Senehudu (also: Sanakhudu).

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser. Senehudu Lyrics: Sana’khoodu Ma`arikana Ma`ahum We’ll take our fights with them Wa sanam dhiJi moo`an Narda`uhum We’ll go as groups to stop them Wa nu`eedul haqqal mug-tasaba We’ll return our slain rights (territories) Wa bi kullil quwwati Nad-fa`uhum With all force we’ll push them out Sana’khoodu Ma`arikana Ma`ahum We’ll take our fights with them Wa sanam dhiJi moo`an Narda`uhum We’ll go as groups to stop them Wa nu`eedul haqqal mug-tasaba We’ll return our slain rights (territories) Wa bi kullil quwwati Nad-fa`uhum With all force we’ll push them out Wa bi kullil quwwati Nad-fa`uhum With all force we’ll push them out Bisilaahil haqqil battari By the weapon of truth Sanu harriru ardhal ahraari We’ll free the land of the free Wanu`eedul tuhraa ilal qudsi We’ll return the pureness of Islam to Al-Quds Min Ba`didh-dhuli wadhal `aree After our weakness and our humiliation Bisilaahil haqqil battari By the weapon of truth Sanu harriru ardhal ahraari We’ll free the land of the free Wanu`eedul tuhraa ilal qudsi We’ll return the pureness of Islam to Al-Quds Min Ba`didh-dhuli wadhal `aree After our weakness our humiliation Min Ba`didh-dhuli wadhal `aree After our weakness our humiliation Sana’khoodu Ma`arikana Ma`ahum We’ll take our fights with them Wa sanam dhiJi moo`an Narda`uhum We’ll go as groups to stop them Wa nu`eedul haqqal mug-tasaba We’ll return our slain rights (territories)

Wa bi kullil quwwati Nad-fa`uhum With all force we’ll push them out Wa bi kullil quwwati Nad-fa`uhum With all force we’ll push them out Wa sanamdhi Nadukkum-Ma’aqilahum We’ll carry on bring down their fortresses Bi dawyyin Daamin Yuqliquhum With strong sounds that will scare them Wa sanam hul `ara’ Bi`ayy-deena We’ll erase our humiliation by our own hands Wa biqullil quwwati Narda’uhum With all force we’ll stop them Wa sanamdhi Nadukkum-Ma’aqilahum We’ll carry on bring down their fortresses Bi dawyyin Daamin Yuqliquhum With strong sounds that will scare them Wa sanam hul `ara’ Bi`ayy-deena We’ll erase our humiliation by our own hands Wa biqullil quwwati Narda’uhum With all force we’ll stop them Wa biqullil quwwati Narda’uhum With all force we’ll stop them Sana’khoodu Ma`arikana Ma`ahum We’ll take our fights with them Wa sanam dhiJi moo`an Narda`uhum We’ll go as groups to stop them Wa nu`eedul haqqal mug-tasaba We’ll return our slain rights (territories) Wa bi kullil quwwati Nad-fa`uhum With all force we’ll push them out Wa bi kullil quwwati Nad-fa`uhum With all force we’ll push them out Lan Nardha Bijuz-in Muhtallin We’ll never accept a slain part of our lands Lan Natruka Shibral-lildh-dhulli We’ll never leave out a bit of our land for them to humiliate us with. Satamourul ardhu Wa tahriquhum The Earth will burst in flames and burn them Fil ardhi Baraakeenun Taghli On Earth there are volcanoes that are boiling (he’s pointing to how much Muslims have in their hearts from having their lands slain rights taken) Lan Nardha Bijuz-in Muhtallin We’ll never accept a slain part of our lands Lan Natruka Shibral-lildh-dhulli We’ll never leave out a bit of our land for them to humiliate us with. Satamourul ardhu Wa tahriquhum The Earth will burst in flames and burn them Fil ardhi Baraakeenun Taghli On Earth there are volcanoes that are boiling Fil ardhi Baraakeenun Taghli On Earth there are volcanoes that are boiling

Mehmet is very believing. After we arrived in the hut and his brother began to make tea he starts several prayers in front of a big silver plate at the wall. He does a double now because he skipped some during the day, Mathieu tells us. We have tea and some cigarettes. Faith tells us we could stay for the next day, too. I wanted to leave back to Istanbul with Sara, but I agree to stay. Faith goes back to his town in the evening and Mehmet is sleeping. We go to sleep, too after a while.

Thursday, August 18: Mehmet doesn’t know anything from the plan to stay one more day. So we go back to Of after breakfast.

Mehmet, me, Mathieu and Faith

Chilling in the hut

Mehmet after his prayers

View over the mountains in the morning

On top of the world

Sara is learning Turkish

Last photo after finishing breakfast

Mehmet gives us a ride until Of which is definitely a loop way for him. In Of he spends half a hour to search for an internet café. We’ve seen the sign more than twice when we passed by, but of course he knew better with all his Turkish man-mentality. After 30 minutes the internet connection is broken. The owner doesn’t know how to fix that, but it’s also not a problem for him. Most of the exclusively male guests are anyway not using the web since they play with some crazy ego shooters. I wasn’t “in” but don’t care. Sara has announced the meeting in Bled.
We buy some ekmek, peinir and tomate in a super market and have lunch in the sun at Black Sea (Kara deniz). After that time has come to say goodbye. Mathieu leaves east to Iran and Sara and me go back to the west.

Photos by Mathieu: blobtrotteur.hautetfort.com/album/karadeniz-la-mer-noire

Hitchhiking back and Istanbul

After three minutes walking next to the motorway to find a good place a truck stops. We didn’t even look to the driver. This lift is to direction Samsun. Even though he’s going to Istanbul we quickly decide not to stay with this one the whole time. He’s a fat, strange codger. No communication. We agree upon a ride till Merzifon, south-west of Samsun. We smell and sleep and he sprays rose water around.
Suddenly he stops at a little motorway station right next to the street in a town and we jump off the truck in a hurry. 290 kilometers. Still a bit snapped out of our dreams we have a short discussion what to do and decide to go to the station which consists of 1/3 shop and 2/3 bakery. The whole staff is sitting next to the shop for dinner. They tell us to come closer and we have to take part. A good warm meal. They ask us the whole time and are curious and even a bit nervous. Thank god the daughter speaks english and somehow she’s uncomfortable with her family. Why the hell does everybody want to know what my father’s job is instead of what I do to earn money? Maybe I already fit into one of their drawers … We’re in Ünye. The permanent sound of the river’s water in the forest is missing, everything is so silent. We have some good conversations with Çigdem and Erdem Yüksel, daughter and son of the shop owner.

Istanbula, Samsuna – going to …
Nerede gidiyorrsun – Where do you go to?
I Allemanianim – I’m from Germany.
Bir sigara verde tütürelim kanka. – Pass me the joint, bro.
Tabi ki – of course
Tamam – OK

Some obligatory photos and we go back the 20 meters to the street. They feel somewhat sorry for us and ask other customers stopping at the station if they’d give us a ride. After 20 minutes thumbing under a street lamp another truck stops.

Osman is a nice guy, much conversation. We stay with him the next 830 km until Istanbul. Beer, Xanax, sleeping in the truck. Onward in the morning, tea and toast. Upland desert, everything is brown, just a few bushes. I take my time to write down some notes.
Osman brings waste paper from the eastern end of Turkey to Istanbul. Every couple of minutes the phone rings or he calls someone. Sara playe the guitar and the called listen over the phone, Proudly Osman tells he has tourists on board living in Isvedge and Allman.
Each lorry (camion) and every car has this special-cut carpet on the dashboard, why ever. And never ever enter a truck with shoes worn on the feet.
Short before we arrived Istanbul it was enough with Osman who finally reduced us to dope-smoking guitar-playing tourists from Sweden and Germany.

Magic carpet ride

This is a main west-east route ...

Close to Istanbul there were significantly more flags again.

From Asia to Europe (and a flag)

City on two continents (and a flag)

They use the more flexible trucks with a skip here and cover them with a huge canvas.

I’m working on it …

Greece again and the trip to Dresden

I’m working on it …

Poland

I’m working on it …

Back home

I’m working on it …

This year co-organizing the German Hitchhiking Championships I did definately not take advantage of the fact that I knew the destination before.
Back to the organization: I liked the adhocractic way Philipp, Tommy, Makkel, Bejamin, Steffi and me did that. Only one meeting in Karlsruhe was necessary to define the route and for some other basic determinations. Shortly after beginning, this meeting anyway turned into a talkative beer party. After we met, the tasks were dedicated self-kindled. Great work for an extensive press coverage was made, the website was filled with substantial information, sponsors and nice prizes were found and the public image was supported by professional number bibs and a mass of “Hitchhiker’s friend certificates” each team could give away to the drivers to say “Thank you” and to spread the word of hitchhiking even more. The good preparational work was also reflected in the number of participants: 101 (plus two unofficial guys joining the race en route).

Lately I got-off on Friday and then decided to use my own car towards Freiburg. Around Stuttgart I met Conny and Tine from Augsburg and gave them a lift, so the decision pro own car leastwise had a retroactive qualification.
Henrietta reached the preliminary meeting at river Dreisam shortly after me by train and I was happy to see her again. No question we would be one team (50) toghether!

During the race we didn’t have that much luck. Maybe also due to both our heads were a bit up in the clouds. We decided to use the eastern route during Switzerland and stranded some kilometers before the Italian border. Nothing happened there after 10 pm and we decided to camp directly at the motorway station and try it again the next morning. United with team 1 (Makkel and his girlfriend) we then used some public transport (which closely-looked disqualified us four) and made it until Sunday evening.
Oh, yes! It’s worth a note: we were the last team officially reaching the destination due to Michael and Luciano did not login at the entrance.

We then stayed at the lake until Tuesday, even if all the others except Michael and Luciano had already left on Monday.
The route and some remakable spots as well as the lifts with some descriptive words are to be found at the Google Map.

The way back to Freiburg was much faster: Henrietta and Michael hitchhiked and recieved only one hour later than me by train.
I waited 3 hours at the first train station in Verbaina which was longer than hitchhiking there: The first driver was the first one who saw my thumb after 30 seconds of “waiting” and the second was a little Smart stopping after 5 minutes thumbing.

Some notes on the way from my book:

Tramperrennen mit Henrietta. Total verplanter Start mit Bus Raststätte Breisgau, dort mit den ersten gefragten (2 schwule NL) zurück nach Norden Raststätte Schauinsland viel gelaufen :(, mehrere Teams dort und relativ wenig Autos, fast wie Villach. Paar aus Stuttgart Richtung Thun, aber wir steigen hinter Basel aus, dort sind mehr Chancen.

Falls man an einer Tankstelle trampt und nicht weiterkommt, kann man (vorausgesetzt man ist Raucher) die Tankstelle in Brand stecken. Dann gibt es furchtbares Chaos, alle Menschen laufen durcheinander und fuchteln wie wild mit den Armen. Bild eines mit den Armen fuchtelnden Strichmännchens. Manche haben den Schlüssel im Auto stecken lassen, dann setzt man sich rein und braust davon. Das fällt nicht mal auf, weil andere auch vor Schreck davonbrausen.

Bahnhof Verbania Fontodoce, Mine/Steinbruch nebenen, irre laute Sprenungen – noch 3 Stunden bis zum Zug, getrampt wäre ich sicherlich schneller, aber nun bin ich schon hier …

Werd’ ich zum Augenblicke sagen: Verweile doch! du bist so schön! Dann magst du mich in Fesseln schlagen, dann will ich gern zugrunde gehn! (Goethe, Faust)

Das interessante am Trampen ist, dass man ständig Entscheidungen in unvorhergesehenen Situationen treffen muss. Diese freie Art des Reisens verlangt Kommunikation in ständiger Folge unter wechselnden Voraussetzungen mit stets wechselnden Sendern und Empfängern. Die getroffenen Entscheidungen nachträglich zu rechtfertigen und die Konsequenz zu tragen ist ein immer neuer Lernprozess. Im Blick zurück entstehen aus einzelnen kleinen Puzzleteilen Verbindungen, die gemeinsam einen großen Strang ergeben. Hätte man an einer Stelle eine bestimmte Entscheidung nicht getroffen, passte all dies nicht zueinander. Dann wäre man nun an einem anderen Ort, in einer anderen Stimmung und mitten in einer neuen Situation. Eine Entscheidung, ein Puzzleteil, das fehlt, würde jedoch zu einer anderen Situation führen, die – rückwärts betrachtet – wieder aus hunderten Einzeilteilen besteht. Nun ist die große Kunst, sich zu befreien von der Vorstellung, dass alles predeterminiert ist. Dann ist man frei und auf Reisen, denn Urlaub ist ein Wort der Gefangenen.

Mit der Eisenbahn von Iselle nach Brig, der ganze Weg ist Tunnel, der eine Bauzeit von über 40 Jahren hatte. Geschwind geht es bargab, der Zug wird immer schneller, es knackt in meinen Ohren. Jetzt müssten wir unter dem Lago d’Avino sein, über uns 2-3000 m Fels.

Ein paar Reihen vor mir im Zug nach Bern sitzt ein etwa 30-jähriges Paar. Sie beschuldigt (unüberhörbar) schluchzend ihren Freund. Ich hatte zuerst gedacht sie lacht. Dann steht sie auf und geht weinend, er bleibt genauso regungslos sitzen wie zuvor.

Basel-Freiburg, ICE. Noch bevor wir überhaupt losgefahren sind, hat der Zug 8 Minuten Verspätung. Nach 4 Minuten Fahrt stehen wir wieder zusätzliche 4 Minuten länger. Alle italienischen und schweizer Züge, mit denen ich heute unterwegs war, waren jeweils auf die Minute pünktlich. Umsteigen hat in der Schweiz nie länger als 10 Minuten gedauert, bis der Anschlusszug losfuhr. Ich war unterwegs mit 1 italienischen, 3 schweizer und 1 deutschen Zug.

Some short messages from the road:

• Team 50 with bus to station breisgau then with 2guys from nl back north to station freiburg schauinsland.now with Russian couple to basel. (Saturday)
• Team 50 stuck at belinzona after a nice tour through whole Switzerland and a few crazy lifts. :) very probably we will camp here and join you tomorrow. (Saturday)
• team 50 crossed the italian border by feet at brissago. (Sunday)
• team 50 finally arrived on 19.35 YES! and we were last :] (Sunday)

Event statistics and team list/placement can be found at the Race website.

Our personal statistics for the race:
Time on the road (hh:mm): 34:16
Lag to 1st team (hh:mm): 25:41
——————————————–
Number of lifts: 6
Distance hitchhiked (km): 445
Average distance/lift (km): 74
——————————————–
Number of buses used: 3
Distance by bus (km): 27
Average distance/bus (km): 9
——————————————–
Number of trains used: 1
Distance by train (km): 21
——————————————–
Number of marches: 6
Distance by feet (km): 13
Average distance/march (km): 2
——————————————–
Average speed of pure hitchhiking including sleeping (km [hitchhiked + marched]/hours on the road): 13
Average speed of pure hitchhiking without sleeping (km [hitchhiked + marched]/hours on the road): 20
Average speed in total including sleeping (km [hitchhiked + marched + by bus + by train]/hours on the road): 15
Average speed in total without sleeping (km [hitchhiked + marched + by bus + by train]/hours on the road): 22

By the way: Philipp started his hitchhiking tour to Australia after the race, he blogs from some stations en route: blog.flupps.net/

Those which have fewest are the first giving what they rather need themselves.

Given is a best case scenario. While new challenges are part of the situation, acceptance criteria have to be defined. Somehow.

Ein Gefühl
absoluter Vollkommenheit
umgibt mich
Auch das tiefe Bedauern
dass es in ein paar Stunden
vorbei sein wird
Eine letzte Zigarette
und ein letzter
wohlüberlegter
Satz, der alles abschließt

Hoffentlich

Sitzt SIE neben dir und näht ihre Tasche zusammen. Hast vorher Dinge gehört, die dich verzaubert haben, für ein paar Sekunden; mit drei Worten im Sinn. Unfähig dich zu artikulieren.

How far is it to the paradise? Am I within while I close my eyes?

Und gestern? Als du entdecktest, wie gleich sie dir ist; wie du nicht magst, was du bist; wie du wusstest, dass, was du wolltest, nicht ist, was du brauchst, kannst, darfst?

There’s a cold comfort. Others would cry in this moment.

Saturday I heard a chilled concert of Patrice in Munich, Muffathalle. Also the supporting act Fetsun raised the atmosphere with the powerful voice of the singer.
After the concert we returned to my castle home to have a whisky and organize a cab to the city. This plan turned to a real project as the cab central does obviously have three different phone numbers connected by a dubious system, calling two of the numbers leads to immediate hang up while the third number sometimes connects you to an operator. To make it a challenge the system seems to change the designation of the numbers to connection or hang up. At least we were successfull after 40 minutes of endurance.
Maybe related to the mind quieters consumed before, this cab ride was the longest I have ever experienced. The driver didn’t say a word. We neither. Looked out of the window sitting in the car’s fond and absorbed the world passing by. Sometimes realizing in a flash the eternal duration of the ride in the same way as the direct route we took. After having arrived the driver needed felt hours to find three bucks of change. Don’t know what he thought of the out of the ordinary couple of an forty-something and someone that is always asked for his ID card when buying tobacco. Don’t also know how many unexpected couples he drove during his cab driver life before.
We entered Riobar where we had made good experiences before. Quickly found a free place in the crowded tavern. Waited long for a first drink and were so thirsty. Unintentionally we listened to what the three behind us told each other.
The following is now a replay of my reception of what followed until we left.

Awkward voice: But boss, that’s what I say the whole time … have photos to prove that. … I’m not the bitch of your … men touching me …
I looked towards them. An over 50 old fat man, an over 50 old heavysat woman in traditional costume. A bottle of champagne in an icer. An 30-someting girl between them, the one with the unconvient voice. He sitting, she sitting in the oppostite of him. The traditional woman standing with her back towards me. The young woman caged by wall, table, him and the traditional woman.
Awkward voice: You cannot do that …
Traditional woman: … I like it …
Awkward voice: … it’s so mad …
Traditional woman: … this is my life …
Awkward voice: … nobody likes you …
Sound of spraying scent.
Sound of a glass falling to the ground cracking.
Sound of spraying scent.
Terrible odour drawing over.
Waitress having a look for the broken glass. Only looking, doing nothing.
…
Awkward voice: I tell you something … will turn worse … your business will bust …
…
Traditional woman is moving to the dancefloor. She behaves bearish.
Awkward voice is approacing her. She dances steamy with the Traditional.
…
Awkward voice and Traditional are back to the table.
Awkward voice (very loud): Our boss has nothing to drink! Bring something for our boss!
Waitress arrives fast-paced, bringing some glasses.
…
A woman dressed in black leather is falling backwards from her stool.
…
The dancing scene repeats.
…
Someone operates the gambling machine next to our table.
…
Boss moves beneath the dancefloor being danced around by both. The awkward voice still trying to be erotic but is rather drunken. Boss smokes a big cigar.
…
The leather woman tries to find a way upstairs. A guy, looking south-american, helps her.
The south-american goes to the bar, drinking from his white wine. Vain endeavour, I can see he’s highly drunken.
…
The triple returns to the table. Sound of spraying scent.
Terrible odour.
…
Waitress (to me): Who is the one that operated the machine here?
Me: I don’t know. He left the bar, I think.
Waitress running to the door, looking around outside. Coming back after a while, standing at the door looking towards the bartender: Jonny, he’s off.
…
Bartender leaves upstairs.
…
The table cater-cornered is occupied by a man and three good looking young women hanging with their eyes on his lips.
Too good looking.
…
(Bartender still missing.) One of the guests goes behind the bar, giving drinks to his friends.
…
A well-dressed couple enters the tavern.
…
The south-american approaches the table of the triple passing by ours, having earphones plugged in both ears and an unlighted cigarette in his mouth. I give him a light and ask what he’s listening to. I’m allowed to take part. Heavy metal. He plugs his ears again and leaves.
…
…

How crazy was that?! I always thought that I am a little bit insane, but what movies must play in other’s minds!
Columnists should live to see that, if they’re not well inspired what to deliver to their editor.

I have a new favourite city. A great weekend with good friends, Three Bridges, Metelkova, the “crazy house” again, beer in warm autumn nights, speedy backwards parking, train cabin trip, curry chicken, coffee and rakija, an empty fruit bowl, famous 15′ guided city tour, trying to stand on beer cans but being to fatuglyheavy, city’s best Burek, a system to network hitchhikers, french horn, a parking ticket, promising stones, the moon in a spoon, a cosy hostel couch, laughing till bellyache, thinking till laughing … Thanks my friends! I think that was Guča po Guči, sve može …

On our way back we left the Austrian motorway at Freistritz, that motorway station I started from at my last day back home from Serbia, to have a closer look at the map to go round traffic jams and of course the toll somehow. When starting again we saw a group of five hitchhikers. Said to them that five is a bit too much for the cute small racing car. But three of them wanted to go to SLO and only two to Munich, so we picked them up. Then we left motorway to go round toll (and jam) and it was a really adventurous ride through the mountains, very small and cliffy street, then even came through a village I was in in February for skiing – nice memories and scenic views in the dark dark night. It turned out later that the hitchhikers were on their way back home to Belgium. So I proposed them to either leave at Augsburg motorway station instead of Munich or to take them home for a dry place to sleep and a shower. Funny, friendly guys.
It was even more cold autumn when we returned. The kitchen window was fogged which I until then noticed only in winter sometimes.

Messages from the road:

• Bohemian rhapsody in some pub in a city nearly empty ’cause everybody is somewhere out with chilled people. that rocks! (05-sep-2010 03:48 am)
• Auf nach Ljubljana! Forward-looking … (02-sep-2010 01:20 am)

Staub, Schweiß, Spaß …

ein Video:

viele Bilder:

bzw. hier, da und dort

und die typische Post-Festival Depression