Diary: Iraqi-Turkish Gambit
Entry 11. Iraqi-Turkish gambit
In the evening, during dinner in Palmyra, strange things began to happen to me. A group of young men, who were initially interested in me, began to offer to buy souvenirs and other trinkets about Palmyra. After I declined, one of their gang came up to me and told me that I would be in trouble with my motorcycle. Generally speaking, I wasn't scared, but the thing is, there are no garages or parking lots here, and the machinery is parked outside in the open. Immediately I wanted to leave here, but how, if it was night and the nearest lodging house was 150 km away? I had to tell the hotel chief that there was an attempt on my bike, and then an even stranger thing happened!
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a man who had been hanging around me since I left Damascus appeared. It turned out that he was from the secret police and had the task of watching over me all the way to the border. Only now it became clear to me why they don't check my passport or bike papers. In fact, no one is pulling on me, as it was, for example, all over North Africa! So, this secret agent calmed me down and said that I could sleep well, everything would be OK.
After breakfast, when I set off, it took me a long time to find the tail. It appeared only before the border between Iraq and Turkey. I waved to him and was about to cross the border, but it was not to be! For the first time in my life, I saw that the phrase "Granin – on lockdown!" could have the most direct meaning.
When I was on my way to the border, the Syrian border guards brought me to the gate in the neutral zone and pointed to a huge barn lock: now, they said, only tomorrow from 10.00.
It turned out that few people cross the border in this village. However, the gate was opened especially for me – hello, unplanned Turkey!
After the war.
I passed the border with flying colors. Although the point is small, but there are about 100 people, so we had to hand out a lot of souvenirs and promotional products about Kazakhstan. Now we have to take care of them, because we still have almost 20 000 km to go! As soon as I entered the territory of Turkey, I was approached by correspondents of the central newspaper. They interviewed me, took pictures of me. They promised to send the newspaper to Kazakhstan.
Nothing foreshadowed a heavy frost and snowy road…. The temperature was +20, it was a pleasure to drive! And the distance to the Iranian border is only 800 km…
However, after 100 kilometers the temperature dropped to zero. It turned out that I was in Kurdistan, and that mountains as high as 5000 meters would be all the way to Iran.
But there's no other way. If you go through Iraq, I was warned it could be a one-way ticket. There's no return from there. So my friend Sinus wrote me a letter to keep my nose clean: "Dima, good luck! Don't go to Afghanistan – it may end sadly, but you won't know about it. Myanmar, I think, you'll have to travel by airplane. And in general, keep to the green line on your map."
I don't know what to compare it to, but the horror that happened to me next, I wouldn't wish on an enemy! Of course, similar things have happened, for example, when after I was deported from Tunisia, I drove from Marseille to Austria in minus 8 temperatures. But now it's a nightmare! When the temperature dropped to minus 18, I realized that I had broken my personal record (I think, not needed by anyone, even me). And still I reached the border with Iran…. After 100 kilometers the temperature dropped to zero. It turned out that I was in Kurdistan, and that the mountains up to 5000 meters high would be all the way to Iran. But there's no other way. If you go through Iraq, as I was warned, it could be a one-way ticket. There's no return from there. So my friend Sinus wrote me a letter not to stick my nose where it doesn't belong: "Dima, good luck! Don't go to Afghanistan – it may end sadly, but you won't know about it. Myanmar, I think, you'll have to fly over by airplane. And in general, keep to the green line on your map."
Jordan, the magic of nature.
Ecuador – 2012. Fredi and his friends give me a knight's helmet. Now it has been with me for 10 years.
Kazakhstan, Medeo – 2017
