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I spent 2 days travelling through Turkey towards Syria, my next destination. For those of you who are now leading responsible, working lives, you can follow my route on a map when you get bored of work.
Bus to Hoppa from border. Wait for 2 hours for bus to Riza, where I am told I can get a bus to Diyabakir.
Get on bus to Riza. Unceremoniously dropped off on motorway in Riza and left stranded, but I don't pay any money so no complaining. Walk to bus station. No bus to Diyabakir from Riza: the last one left 20 minutes ago. But there is one from Trabzon!
So off to Trabzon. When I get there the bus to Diyabakir is sold out. The guy who reserved the last seat and didn't show up, turns up at the last minute.I am stranded. So I reserve a seat on the last bus out of there, to Van, near Iran. The bus leaves at 10pm. I have 4 hours to kill. Off for a kebab then.
Van is nice. From there I go to Hakkari, on the border of Iraq and Iran. There are many checkpoints and security guys with big guns who eye me with distrust; I get the same feeling a mouse gets when being watched by a cat. I am the mouse.
Hakkari is beautiful with amazing people. I end up drinking tea with some random people on the street, and then when I am about to go a guy who looks homeless (no, really he does) gives me a plum! I go 5 minutes on the bus where they drop me off at a fork in the road and tell me that "that's the road you need."
Cheers, but how the f""k do I get somewhere 4 hours away, when there are no buses. No problems! They leave me with security who offer me tea and after half an hour decide to search my bags. I don't know why and they didn't search my bags because I said I wanted to ring the British Embassy first to ask why they wanted to search my bags. They obviously weren't very good at their job.
Some guys come out of nowhere and speak fluent English. Great! They chat with me for a while about Turkish football and then they realise that I really don't want to be here. They hail a truck with 2 obese drivers with more kids between them than I have fingers and toes, who agree to take me to Sirnac.
The drivers speak no English, we have may problems because I'm on a British passport in a very strange part of Turkey, and I have a conversation with a big army guy about how working in McDonalds is fun, before he decides I'm no threat and lets me go.
I arrive in Sirnac at 10 at night, find the closest hotel, get the price down, have my first shower in days, and sleep after having my dinner: a chocolate bar and some iodine water - yummy!
The next day I head to Cezre, from where I enter my next country.
I realise this was a boring entry, but stay tuned.