Myself and Tina were cycling up towards the Turkish border. It was hot, I was tired, so we pulled into a bus stand in a small village to seek some shadow as Tina called it, and eat some chocolate biscuits. Chatting away and recovering.
Robert shows up, a tall Swiss man on a touring bike. He joins us in the bus stand and we see what the craic is. Obviously, he was heading towards Istanbul, like every other cyclist on these roads were. He had just had a rough day with numerous punctures and he was glad of the company. So, with our first vagabond picked up, we set off toward Turkey.
As with most border crossings, they’re always further away than you think. Maybe it's because of all the excitement of entering a new country, but the build-up always seems to take forever.