After over a week on the farm, we headed straight for the Turkish border, taking the train to make up some time. Somewhere along the way, in a nice little river valley, we made camp for the night. And for the first time so far we were able to make a fire, without any worry of attracting unsavory characters (/murderers). Unfortunately we didnt have the equipment or the skill to catch our supper, but we did use our pan for the first time to make tea from the camomile growing around.
The main benefit of which was the slight reassurance that the the lump of metal we have carried half way across europe isnt completely useless.
Anway, we arrived finally at the border, to find that the service for foot passengers was less than satisfactory. On the advice of the greek police, we hitchhiked across, avoiding confrontation with the small army that populates the 500m of no-mans-land up to the turkish border.
For a quick 15 euros I bought a visa (with complimentary sweet). Just a few minutes of standing in the car lane like over-laden donkeys (and a half-hearted search by a border curious/bored guard) later, and we were out of the EU and into turkey.
Apart from the obvious differences... church steeples to minorets...
disappearance of the greek alphabet... the driving style becomes somewhat more... 'relaxed'. The hard shoulder becomes a much more efficiently utilised space, reserved for the numerous low horse power (and occassionally horse drawn!) vehicles.
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