Becky manages to ask the hotel chef if he can fill our thermos flask with coffee for a fee. Nobody here speaks a word of English.... I overhear the conversation, a comical combination of pigeon English and charades. I wasn't entirely convinced that he wasn't going to fill our flask with sand or something, but sure enough, he returned with a flask full of fresh brewed coffee. Blinding.
Motel car park, somewhere dusty in North-East Turkey
Back on the road, and all is well. We stop off at a road side cafe for a local breakfast, yet more football talk about "Mancheta Uniteeee". Not being a football fan, I keep nodding and agreeing that they are, quite clearly, the best team in the world.
Seven hours later we arrive at Trabzon, a fairly large city on the shores of the Black Sea. Loads of people, traffic, fumes and car horns. Narrow streets and 1001 signs for Kofte, which I think is some kind of kebab affair.
Jerry is parked in a dodgy looking car park in the centre of town. I was a little concerned, until I realised it was right next to the military police HQ - A soldier in French desert fatigues watched over as I parked, hopefully he'll keep an eye on things for us.
Becky came down with some form of bug earlier today and is now resting in bed, not feeling too well at all. I'm sure she'll be all set by the morning though. Hotel has wireless internet, so I can finally catch up with the blog and will hopefully fix the tracker too.
Tomorrow - Turkey to Tbilisi, Georgia.
are you sure it wasn't the coffee she asked from the chef?
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