Coming from Serbia into Kosovo I get hung-up at the border. To get into the country I need to buy compulsory insurance and en-route through Europe I had been comfortably paying with card. So no cash in my pockets. The creditcard machine was broken so my only option was to turn back. Sucks but that is how it is and I did not mind riding that awesome stint of road again. The price I paid for not being on my game. From there on I understood that the comfort of Europe was slowly coming to an end and I needed to look ahead more. I had been to Kosovo on a previous trip so no love loss there. And what do you know, the detour through Montenegro turned out to be amazing.

We meet again.


I have got a feeling that this ride is going to be a good ride.


Alps, is that you?




I rode into Montenegro through a mountainous area in the east where I had not been before. It was still covered in snow which gave me little Alpine flashbacks. The aim was to ride over an obscure road to a small border crossing with the northeastern part of Albania. The last bit was not even indicated clearly on the map. After another delicious Hungarian sausage lunch (that is such a great start to a sentence is it not) I made my way to the border in the late afternoon. I had been told before that the road would not be that good once in Albania. How bad could it be right? The border post was the smallest I had ever seen. The guard awoke from a light slumber and greeted me at the gate. My passport got stamped and I signed a paper logbook. He manually hoisted the bar and let me into the country. Now from what I understood the road would be good for a long time and then go bad but that was the opposite of what other people had told me. I probably had misunderstood and damn right I did.

Does anybody know where the Albanian border is?


There it is!


Less than a few kilometers into Albania the road becomes gravel and rock. I find myself in a mountainous area with wooden bridges and a small river. Damn it was all so beautiful and with the off-road track it became all the better! I slowly found myself moving into one of those ecstatic delirious states which would happen many more times throughout my journey. I had aimed for something nice but this was beyond my expectations. The road was narrow, rocky, and winding close to the slope. I had never had such a continuously serious off-road experience like this before. This was it, this is why I was doing what I do. That feeling of utter joy and abandonment to your surroundings where you feel like the only person in the world and that it is all and only for you to experience. I was a happy man. I set up camp by the flowing river next to small waterfall. This was my bedroom, here I will lay asleep peacefully under the stars as the water flows behind me. As I lie next to the fire under the clear night sky I finish the last of my Balkan spirits and am truly at peace. Every now and then a truck or car passes by on the tough road and honks. Never have I set up camp so close to the road before but I did not worry. I was in a place where there was only the best of man.

You know something good is up when you stumble on a bridge like that.


Bye tarmac, won’t miss ya.




I was not planning on this but things just keep getting better!




And better!




Fire it up.


The next day I woke up under an overcast sky while a light drizzle came down on my tent. Such a shame but so be it. I head out and the road became pretty serious. More streams of water began to form as I rode up and down the slopes. After every corner a new mountain silhouette doomed up on the horizon. Beautiful. Soon enough I put on my rain suit as it was getting too wet. I had to focus on the riding since the road was wet and tires were not off-road. Sharp narrow turns going up or down with a steep wall on one side and a steep slope on the other. I rode close to the edge since I did not want to hit the big rocks with the pannier on the sloped wall. At one point I did on a narrow and slippery bit and the bike first pulled to the inside and then it veered to the right close to the edge and as I put my foot down I pull the bike to the left. Standstill. Ha, this is serious business. Casual danger hides in these pleasures. Something I was well aware off, but this was a good reminder nonetheless. The pannier was damaged and I had to take it off. One of the attachments was bent and I straightened it out with a rock. Those panniers and racks, if only they knew what lay ahead of them. Did not matter, I was having a great time. Camera was getting too wet though. Made a few screenshots from the GoPro footage to do the area justice.

Around the bend the real good stuff begins.


Occasionally I passed through small mountain villages while crossing the same river time after time. Stopped at a small local store for water and my gloves were absolutely drenched. The man gave me two small plastic bags to tie around my gloves. I got asked some questions by a local about my bike and there was something slightly irksome about the way the person asked them. I had noticed since Serbia that there were certain assumptions some people made about my person because of what I was doing. They would look at the bike fully loaded and the GoPro on my helmet and they assumed that I was rich. Once or twice it felt almost accusatory. Now I am well off compared to most of the world but I am not compared to where I come from. Nothing new since I had noticed this phenomenon before during my travels.

Though now it was different. This machine is all I have and it is almost twenty-five years old. I have some money in the bank for this trip and recording is a must on a journey like this. Though that is all I have and I am going for broke. There is no house or anything to go back to when I am “done”. What then? I will have to figure it out. Though that is the part that people do not see. All they see is a vehicle and some expensive looking gear. He must be rich to be able to afford this. You must have money if you are not working to make money. Not understanding that this is it. That this is all in. It is an investment into an idea, a notion of life. You will not be able to buy anything for it but it is yours to keep forever. Why else dive into a pool of indefinite financial insecurity?

My luxury is the ability to make that decision. To be able to self inflict this uncertainty. That is my privilege. I am grateful to have been randomly born in a part of the world where I can “easily” make that decision. But that is about as far as the benefit goes. Because being able to deal with that uncertainty is half the work. And most people cannot handle it otherwise everybody would be pursuing their most heartfelt desires. So yeah I am rich, but not because of the items you see. I get it though. This is one of the poorest regions in Europe. And most people do not fully understand the concept of leisure riding. Heck in many countries the idea is completely alien. No such thing. So there is that.





Oh yeah!


After about forty kilometers from Montenegro the road widened and there was a lot of construction work going on for the next ten kilometers. As I rode over the winding road up the mountain I left the valley behind me and stumbled on pristine tarmac on the other side. This was progress in motion. These mountain communities were being connected with the rest of the country. It was cool to see the process for once of how these awesome winding mountain roads come to be. Soon these people would only be a few hours away from Tirana but in the process their isolated mountain life will come to an end. The young go, the old die, and then some of the young come back with a brand new Mercedes. I continue west down the mountain on fresh tarmac which looks like a flowing river because of the rain and absent drainage system. Once at the main road I head south and leave behind this great riding experience in the north of Albania. The dirt roads are slowly disappearing and the world is only getting smaller.

How good is that. Across the river and now back up on the other side! Camera not too happy with the rain.


The road joins the river.




The road to Tirana is slow and uneventful. Low maximum speed and a large police presence make for a boring ride. Except until I get to the petrol station. As I unzip the top of my rainsuit to reach for my wallet I feel nothing. Stomach freezes. I reach for all my other pockets but nothing is there. I search the tank bag to no avail and have another go at my pockets. No way. That wallet has my bank card and my credit card in it. This goes on for almost ten minutes. This must have happened when I put my suit on, that is the only explanation. My wallet is somewhere back in those mountains and no way it is still lying around. Only one option left, but I would have had to be so distracted for it to be true and no way it could be there. I would be too ridiculous to be true. I undo the dry bag from under the straps in which I normally keep the rain suit. As I unroll the collar I can see the outline of the wallet. Holy shit I cannot believe I put it in there without a thought. I hug the fuel attendant as I hysterically laugh. From now on the cash cards ride separately. I would have been in such a bad situation early on in the trip had I really lost that wallet. During the remainder of the trip to Tirana the sky clears up and I slowly blow dry in the wind.



In Tirana I meet again with the Altin brothers. On a previous trip through the country I had a fall in the mountains and they patched up my bike when all seemed lost. Absolute legends.

If you need to get work done on your bike in the region go see these guys: Get your motorcycle fixed by the Altini brothers in Tirana! Reliable and very affordable.


They did some maintenance work on the bike for a couple of days. Nice second hand front tire, new steering bearings and new sprockets and chain. The sprockets were long due for replacement but I wanted to hold off a change until after the Alps. The steering felt smooth as silk, fantastic. Spent another few nights in the city and one of the brothers took me to some evening hotspots.



Quit showing off Alp!


Soon enough it was time to leave again and I made my way through the beautiful Albanian countryside. Rode past lake Ohrid where the road was under construction. I really liked this country the first time I was there and I like it even better now. It has a wild quality to it. The nature is beautiful and the riding is good. And that off-roading stint in the north is still one of my favorite riding experiences. Camped out one last night in the south east of the country before I headed in direction of the Greek border.

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VIDEO Series YT - '91 Transalp RTW: Europe, Middle East, Central Asia, East Asia, Australia > New Zealand

Ahead of me a perfect storm was brewing. One of those freak events that only happens every few years. That storm lay ahead of me and I wanted to reach the eye of it as soon as possible. In the near future the Turkish football club Fenerbahçe was going play one of the last matches of the Turkish Süper Lig season and if they would win, and Besikitas loses or draws, then they would be crowned champions of Turkey. This would unleash intense and crazy football celebrations on the Asian side of Istanbul. The Fenerbahçe fans were going to make sure that the Galatasaray fans on the European side of the city would feel the tremors of victory. Great rivals and sworn enemies. With emphasis on the later because football kills in Turkey. I was not planning on missing this event. And in order to make it Greece would have to get Sloveniad.

Got some change? Jokes aside back then I wondered how it would be for the people in a country to hear for years on end in the news that your country is shit and screwed. Almost two years later I still wonder.


I had been in Greece in 2011 on my way back from Istanbul. Back then it had been the hottest place I had ever ridden and it does not surprise me that the country is always on fire. Riding during springtime was a lot more comfortable. The route to Turkey is straightforward and there were no real alternatives. I could have gone to Athens but by then I was pretty keen on getting out of Europe. And like I said, there lay great festivities ahead of me. So I decided to take the highway. See the thing is, I had to get to Istanbul that same day to be on time for the championship celebrations.

I do not say this often but highway I choose you!


The day starts with a bit of a hiccup at the Albanian border. After five minutes of customs hassling with my passport and looking in the system I have an idea of what might be wrong. I keep my mouth shut for another five as they go get a supervisor to look at the system. Finally they ask me how it is possible for me to be in the country without being in the system. Remember that tiny border crossing from Montenegro into Albania? It was so tiny and relatively remote that the all-in-one customs, guard and administrative man slept on a bunk bed in his post and had to manually lift the gate. Well, all my passport information was written into a paper logbook with a pencil. I explained to them the situation and I was happy to see that after some reluctant facial expressions on their part that they accepted my story as valid. They let me into Greece and I was back in Europe. Time to burn some rubber.

No scorched earth yet during springtime.


Kavala is always a nice sight on the coast.




After a nice short fun winding road I hit the highway. From there on it was pretty straightforward. I pass Thessaloniki and in the afternoon I head into Kavala for a late lunch. By then I realized that it was going to be a tough mission to get to Istanbul on time. I began to hope for a loss or draw for Fenerbahçe so that they would play the championship match the next weekend. I keep riding and go past Alexandroupoli and just before the border I go to a fuel station. Not that I had to but I knew from my last experience that Turkish petrol is ridiculously expensive. It makes Western Europe look cheap. I think it easily could have been the most expensive fuel in the world back then. At the station I just knew I was not going to make it on time. Still had to cross the border and ride a relatively slow road to Istanbul. And once there in the late evening, in the Madness that is Istanbul, I would have no time to arrange anything.

Last cheap fill before I am stuck with murderous Turkish prices for a while.


As I fill up the tank I speak to the station manager and tell him about the match. He knows about it and tells me that Fener is playin 0-0. I happily accept the news and ask him if I could check the internet on his laptop. There it was, 0-0 and only five minutes to play. The score stays the same even after extra time. I am pretty damn happy and a load falls of my shoulders. I completely relax and am able to be at ease with feeling tired. By then I had ridden almost 700km, the longest day so far. The manager offered me coffee and we talked for a bit.

That way.


Back in Turkey.


The hotel manager proudly gets in the picture with me after he tells others to get out of the shot.


I rode to the border and spent some time zigzagging on the Turkish side. The border complex there is pretty big. I mentioned the match to some of the guards and a couple were pretty damn happy with the result. Especially Besikitas fans since they still had a shot at the Championship. The Fenerbahçe fan shouted “next week!”. I leave the border complex under the cover of night and turn into the first town. There I get some cash from the atm and after I ride to the first big town on the map. I ride around looking for cheap hotels. I find one, haggle for the price, undo everything including the panniers from the bike and take it all upstairs. The bike is chained to a post. What a lovely shabby hotel. Nice dirty communal squat toilet and woolen covers straight from grandma’s attic. It felt like the journey was really picking up momentum now and that night I slept like a baby. I had finally escaped Europe.

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VIDEO Series YT - '91 Transalp RTW: Europe, Middle East, Central Asia, East Asia, Australia > New Zealand

A little compilation of my ride on the Australian west coast. From Coral Bay to Ningaloo Station through and behind the dunes. Great ride, felt like being on a Mongolian road again. Had to get used to the really soft sand for a bit. Good fun.

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VIDEO Series YT - '91 Transalp RTW: Europe, Middle East, Central Asia, East Asia, Australia > New Zealand

After a good night sleep I was ready to finish the final stint to Istanbul. Looking down through the window I happily conclude that the bike was still there attached to the pole. A brief feeling of piece and relief comes over me. This would become a common ritual when in big towns and cities and the result is always the same. One knows that the bike is still going to be there in the morning but in the back of your mind you prepare for the worst. That machine is all I have and I have big plans for it.

Once I did experience that scare but with a different motorcycle. Me and a friend of mine both did. On a previous journey we had bought motorcycles in China and were riding around the country for a couple of weeks. We had spent a few days in Xi’an and one morning we were ready to move on. Casually walking with our gear to the enclosed parking lot behind the hotel, where our bikes had been for the last few days, we stumble on an unpleasant scene. Where our awesome red Chinese 125cc bikes had stood was now nothing. Jialing and Kington were nowhere to be seen. How could this be? No way! GODVERDOMME! Right away you almost feel paralyzed, like you have lost the ability to move around freely. Not like we can go to the police: “So those were your bikes? Yes. Where are they registered? Euuuuuhhhh, they are not”. We look around, look around again, ask people, but nothing. Ten minutes later someone comes outside and beckons us. He takes us to a garage and opens the door. In there stood our two beautiful red devils. The man said he put it in there to help us. While helping though he ruined my friends steering lock mechanism while getting the bikes in the garage since they were chained to each other. Great help indeed since were planning on selling those bikes somewhere around Beijing. The bikes were back though and all of a sudden it felt like we could go anywhere in the world again.

Back in Turkey as I am checking out at the front desk the manager wants to take me out for breakfast. Outside I follow him to the end of the street where we turn into the next one. The pavements are bustling with merchant activity. This in contrast to the empty and silent streets of the previous evening when I arrived in the city. We enter a café and as he walks towards the counter he tells me to pick a seat. He points at a couple of pastries and makes his way to the table with two teas. Not your average cuppa but a traditional Turkish Chai elegantly served in small hourglass shaped glasses, which is characteristic to the region. It is the shape of a woman’s body they say. This was the first tea offered to me and it would not be the last for many weeks to come.

The owner of the hotel:


We talk the best we can and I explain in broad strokes what I am up to. We have breakfast and enjoy another few teas. Back at the hotel a few people gather around me as I am packing the bike. Soon enough everything is reattached and strapped on and it is time to head out. I make my way out of the small town and I am on my way on the final stint to Istanbul. Once there the plan was to stay at least a week. It would be the second time I would arrive on motorbike in that glorious city. In 2011 during my first big motorcycle journey I rode to Istanbul and back with a friend which was a big deal. Now I had bigger plans.

Mist coming in from the sea on the right. Mosque on the left:


The two-lane road was pretty busy and soon enough it follows the coast looking out over the sea of Marmara. It was the same road I took a few years before on the way out. After a while I reach the outskirt of Istanbul and traffic thickens. As I look around me plenty of construction is going on and this sight continues well into the city. This felt strange, especially since I had just arrived from the Balkans. In Europe we were (so they say) finally crawling out of a recession but things out here were booming. Ever since China I can tell when something like that is going on and it surely was going on in Istanbul. Must have been that sweet Arab money. Before I know it I am stuck in traffic and things are heating up. This would go on for most of the next two hours all the way into Istanbul.

Outer part of Istanbul in sight:


Once there I just follow the flow where it takes me since I am not in a hurry to get anywhere. I end up at a roundabout with a big entry to a university. After walking around for a bit and seeing many vehicles enter and leave the campus I decide to have a go at it myself. I ask to go inside to meet a friend and the security lets me in with the bike. After a brief ride I walk around the beautiful university campus. On one side you can look down over the city. There I meet some young Turkish men. We spend the afternoon talking and later playing football. In the late afternoon it is time to go and head to the city center to find the hostel I had booked earlier.

Picture of one of the university buildings:


I had set my sights on Taksim which is the outgoing part of Istanbul. During my last time in Istanbul me and a friend stayed in the area of Sultan Ahmed better known as old city. This time around I wanted to have a good time since there was plenty of cultural activities still to come. I fire up the navigation app to find the hostel and soon enough I am riding over the narrow populated streets of Taksim. At times not knowing for sure if I was allowed to be there with a vehicle. Too late now. I think I was very much in the way at times while riding closely past café tables. Though people did not look surprised. And that is the beauty of it. I had arrived in a part of the world where people do the craziest things on the streets and no one loses their shit over a little trial and error. A wide heavily packed motorcycle sidestepping through crowds of pedestrians? Nothing too dramatic. Love it!

Section of Taksim where I stayed for the week. Road head leads to the main shopping street with the tramline:


I find the hostel which is two stories up. I undo the panniers and in two stints with the last energy of a long day I make my way up the stairs with all my stuff. I enjoyed walking in with two heavy cases instead of a backpack. “How did you get here? I rode here”. Then was the tough decisions of where to put the bike. This was the heart of Taksim. When people in Istanbul are angry then this is where they gather to protest. Clashes between protesters and riot police happen multiple times every year. Next to the hostel will do but I was not too happy with the location. So be it. Time to clean up, rest and get ready for some madness.

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VIDEO Series YT - '91 Transalp RTW: Europe, Middle East, Central Asia, East Asia, Australia > New Zealand