Turkey 1991, 1992
He is panting from the last hole
(Excerpt from the diary)
The two East Germans Jens and Carsten decided to take us to Ankara in their Wartburg. Tanja and I are relieved not to have to load our 80 kg rucksacks onto buses and trains on the route from Greece to Turkey and are looking forward to a comfortable journey.
After the Wartburg is stuffed to the roof, the poor vehicle rattles and puffs its way towards Turkey. Unfortunately, the heating cannot be turned off and despite the windows being open we have the feeling of sitting in a completely overcrowded sauna. Deafening hard rock blasts from the loudspeakers, turning the journey into a nightmare for us after just a few kilometers.
After endless hours, all four of us look down at the dark road ahead of us, exhausted and overtired. It is almost impossible to avoid the many potholes and high bumps. We are shaken around like ripe fruit in the cramped passenger compartment. The trucks overtaking each other force us to the right-hand side of the road. They seem like death squads to me. If we want to overtake one of these smelly, soon to be stationary, dimly lit or only lit on one side on a hill, we have to expect to be crushed by two oncoming trucks driving side by side. Looking out of the smudged window, I keep seeing totally mangled trucks lying on the side of the road. For them, the frenzy came to an abrupt end.
“Shit!”, Jens curses loudly as yellow-brown coolant suddenly splashes over the windshield again 200 km from Ankara. We look in horror at the temperature display, which is set to the maximum. It can only be a matter of moments before the decrepit, tortured engine blows up in our faces. Jens immediately pulls over to the side of the road. The cooling water is completely boiled away, the fan wheel has an alarmingly large crack and is about to give up the ghost. Fortunately, there is a pub for tired truck drivers just 30 meters away.
The friendly host divides the mutton hanging on the hook into two halves and cuts off a large piece for each of us. It looks extremely unappetizing, but tastes excellent. After we have fortified ourselves, we examine our patient. The nice Turks help us, give us tools and a piece of wire to join the two halves of the fan wheel.
It’s midnight when the Wartburg jets up a pass on the last hole. We watch the temperature display nervously and with anticipation. Thank goodness our bandaged fan wheel holds out.
When we reach a campsite on the outskirts of Ankara early in the morning, we are glad to have survived this unpleasant adventure in one piece…
Turkey 1991/1992
Orient and Occident, the interface between Europe and Asia on the Bosporus. Evidence of antiquity, unique natural phenomena and the almost unbelievable hospitality made Turkey one of Tanja and Denis Katzer’s favorite countries.
