7 Reasons Prison is Better Than Turkey

  1. Air conditioning
  2. You don’t have to shit in a hole
  3. No ramadan… meals before sunset are more than a micowaved hamburger
  4. No ramadan… even in prison you get beer
  5. You get milk in your tea
  6. Beds won’t give you diseases
  7. There’s no stupid loud prayer calling at 4am


Turkey can go fuck itself. What a load of wank.

Over an hour at the border walking around various offices to get stamps for this… stamps for that before we can enter their crappy country.

We entered on the motorway and decided to drive to instanbul for lunch. Over 3 hours in the worstc oordinated traffic jam ever, we decided screw that and we’d just drive to this town called Ducze and spend the night.

Roads are insane, I must admit I loved the driving. It’s like an entire population of people who drive like me. No one gives a shit, they do what they want. It’s awesome. Like driving in a fast paced video game.

Petrol Station Getaway

On the way we stopped for petrol. In turkey you can’t fill up the petrol yourself, some attendant has to do it and operate some receipt machine. We got our car filled up and Andy aledgedly went in to pay. When he came out the guy stopped andy and was muttering turkisk to him and wouldn’t let us leave or Andy into the car.

I started the engine and drove a few feet forwards next to andy, ready for whatever getaway I might have to do.

Andy jumped in and the guy started yelling. We had no idea why, but he was a little aggressive, so I wasn’t hanging around. I speed off and drove round the corner. Only to have this guy start chasing us and yelling down the street. Weird. Is this normal behaviour every time we have to get petrol here?!

Barrier Jump Getaway

We hit the motorway and kept on driving. Another problem with turkey is their toll system. They throw you onto the motorway easily, but to pass through tolls you need a swipe card you have to buy before you enter the motorway. Obvioulsy no one except the locals know this.

It got to around 10pm and we exited the motorway only to be stopped by these barriers that won’t let you through without swiping a card. We spoke to the locals and they said you can’t get a card until 8am, and they were waiting on the side of the road, persumably for it to open at 8am! Madness.

Fuck it. I did a U-turn and drove the wrong way down the motorway until we found a gap to cross… we then headed for a smaller town where allegedly there was no barriers.

When we got there… barriers… fuck it. I just drove through this car chip scanner/open barrier thing. I’m not playing by their stupid retard traffic rules. The alarms of the barriers went off (very loud) and I noticed we were then speeding past 3 parked police cars.

I floored it, drove around the corner and off down the road!

Mwuahaha…. fuckers!

A few miles down there were some flashing lights in the distant behind us. After us? Who knows…. Nothing a quick left and then right turn can’t fix.

Job done… no police. We were worried that perhaps they might have our number plate flagged at the border.

We got to Ducze, found a hotel and checked in. We then headed out into town to explore and find a bar.

But we forgot that turkish people don’t like fun. So obvioulsy alchol didn’t exist and the only thing open was a cafe outside a mosque with some turkisk / islamic? Music playing.

The most you could buy was this stupid tea with no milk.

We went to a shop near by and got some juice, walked around, and headed back to sleep.

We wanted out of this country as quickly as possible. Everyone here was doing the whole Ramadan thing, which is no fun for a month and low blood sugar until sunset. Mix that with the general anger of turkish drivers….. awesome.

We drove for the whole next day until we got to Trazbon. Naturally we had to stop for petrol again. This time while filling up we had two soldiers come over to us, walk around the car occasionally tapping or hitting it… told us they were soldiers… told us, no girls and 3 guys in a car was gay… and then we drove off.

Fuck you Turkey.

Hostel Escape

In Trazbon, we drove past a hostel sign so walked in. Holy shit this place was an absolute dive. Slums have better conditions than this place… but it had beds and what was supposed to be a shower so we stayed and locked ourself in our room. The owner loved us, I think because we were the first english people she’d seen… even offered me a beer with her, which I declined… as I’m pretty sure her husband was sleep on the sofa.

Outside on their terrace… which was just a roof with the fire exit door removed, were 3 guys sitting around a table in the shadows smoking. From what I could see there was one very old man that looked to be asleep on a sofa there. There was something strange about him so I watched him for a few minutes as I finished my cigerette. I coudn’t see any movement in his chest… was he breathing? Was he dead? The other gentleman sitting in the area didn’t look too friendly, so I left them too it.

We had to get some sleep on these horrible beds next to an open window on the motorway. I think I managed to get a couple hours until their stupid bloody islamic pray music started at 4am. Every few hours the mosques go crazy and blare out chanting prayer music…. even at 4am.

Around 8am, andy wakes me up and we were all eager to leave.

Whilst Rus went and brushed his teeth I went on the “terrace” to enjoy a few moments of sunshine. The strange sinister characters had left, except the old man was in exactly the same position as he was last night! Again I couldn’t see the slightest movement. Was he dead?!

Who knows, I was more eager to leave than annoy these weird Turkish hostel owners by telling them a guest / prisoner might have died.

We very quickly packed our bags, checked for any diseases we may have picked up in our sleep (Rus had a huge rash) and went for the door.

No one else was up and the front doors were locked! We couldn’t get out.

Andy unlocked the reception room and rummaged around draws for some keys. I scouted the building for keys / owners to unlock the door.

In the communal living room there was a incredibly overweight guy asleep on the sofa with some keys inches from him. I very carefully lift the keys and head to the door. We were free! I silently returned the keys like the ninja I am and we were out!

As soon as I opened the door, two very confused “guests”? Of the hostel followed us out and walked out in the sun very dazed. Was a little surreal… had I just freed some turkish slaves?

We didn’t waste any time, in the car and we were off.

Tyre Blow Out

A few hours later, our tyre blew out on the motorway. The roads are so shitty it could’ve been anything. Andy very neatly guided the car tot he side of the road and I jumped out to sort out the tyre. We had all the tools and a spare in the boot, so it didn’t take us long to change.

A short trip down the road and we found a replacement tyre garage… with tonne of blown out tyres outside. We went over to them and they sorted us out with a new one in a matter of minutes. Only cost us around £18.

We then headed straight to the Georgian border crossing, only to have a 2-3 hour wait trying to leave their stupid fucking country.

Goodbye Turkey!

The only reason I’m ever going to go back, is if my kids start complaining. “You think your life is bad… go try have fun in turkey”

Sunny Beach, Bulgaria

I’ve heard so much good things about this place and have been looking forward to visiting it since the start.

The Ibiza of Europe

Sadly that’s exactly what this place is. Cheap, tacky and everyone there falls into one of three categories:

  • chavvy essex girls
  • chavvy angry guys
  • nervous timid 18yr old boys

The bikini babes are hot though!

Our plan was to stay two nights here, but half way through our first night we decided we’d leave in the morning. We bar hopped for a bit, although the entire place was a massive sausage fest.

We even had a go at an air rifle range and being the insane marksman that I am got an epic score and grouping….. whilst drunk!

As some of you have already figured out, we blog stories are censored (parents, sponsors, etc)…. so ask me for full versions!

Rus and I stumped into the hotel around 4am, got 4 hours sleep then had to head off to leave for Turkey.

Peak season, with a uninjured leg Sunny beach might actually be good. But not a place I’ll be revisiting anytime soon.


Entering Serbia was fine, we managed to get in without car insurance and spent the first hour or so driving through a very scenic mountain route.

Insane Injury

I really needed to pee and take over the driving, so we pulled up at this… what may have been this abondoned petrol station/shop. I got out and walked round the corner. On the way back I walked back across the grass and managed to step on a completely hidden drain cover. It broke and my leg went completely through it. A small slip is what I thought, but after a few steps the sheer amount of blood made me think twice!

I hobbled back and shouted for the first aid kit, whch Rus was very quick in finding. I poured water over the wound and held some tissue on it to stop some of the bleeding whilst Rus searched for guaze and bandages in the huge first aid kit.

Once found I wacked on the guaze and used an entire bandage to hold everything in place which didnt even cover the whole injury. Was so deep and nasty but that managed to stop the bleeding.

Enough for me to speed off on a 3 hour drive to Belgrade.


We arrived at Belgrade and checked into the best hostel we’ve stayed at so far. Our adventure is always a massive talking point, so it’s easy to befriend everyone.

We showered and got ready for a night out. I had a second round of first aid, where I used alchol and fresh bandages again…. which turned out was still bleeding! OUCH!

The Bohemian District

We headed out to dinner in this area that was recommended by the staff at the hostel. The food was fantastic. Virutally every place we go, we always order whatever the waiter recommends, so we can try some new local cusiune. We had a huge platter of salad, breads and meats. Was EPIC. Mixed with however many beers we racked up. The entire meal came to around £30. Insane. Belgrade is incredibly cheap.

After the meal we walked past a bar where the entire hostel staff and guests were partying. Rus and Andy joined them, but my leg was in mild agony so I headed back.

The next morning after checking my wound I realised it had gotten worse, so decided a trip to the hospital might be wise.

However I was craving coffee and cake, so we went to find a cafe that did cake first. We sat in a popular square outdoors and enjoyed awesome coffee and local cake…. I think its a fact that every single girl in Serbia is super hot.

Whilst eating the cake I enjoyed the benefits of WiFi. Belgrade is not very touristy at all, so I used google translate for “I fell through a drain in the mountains and badly hurt my leg 🙁 I tried to fix it myself, please take a look”

Hospital Visit

I then hobbled into the hospital and presented the receptionist with my phone showing the trnaslated message. I few had gestures and zero communication in english, I was soon seen my a couple nurses and a doctor. They used some crazy solution that stung like hell and then used this weird glue to hold the wound together whilst I banged the desk in pain! Double the amount of bandages I used and a injection later I was good to go. Completely free, in-out in under 20 minutes. A better health system than England thats for sure.

We then walked around Belgrade and went to go visit the castle there. The views there were awesome, you could see way down the river and see over virtually the whole city. It’s huge!

In the evening we joined in for a Serbian language class at the hostel. We were taught:

  • Dobla Riba – Sexy chick
  • Uni Sesememe – Will you marry me
  • I podji Samnom – Lets go…

All we would need for a night out in what they called the gangster “Silicon Valley” district. Have a guess why its called that 😉

After food we eagerly headed over to what they described as awesome night life. We walked down the street this insane area was suppoesd to be on and kept passing quiet empty cafe/bars. We thought, surely it’s further up but turns out that was the area. So we sat down in a bar with only 2 women in and sipped beers. A few beers later we headed home.

Belgrade is supposed to be a party town?!! Even Brighton beats Belgrade in night life.


Part 1:
Entering the country was interesting. First time in, we had our car pulled over at the border and all our documents, papers and car were searched through extensively. We were there for about an hour where every single bag had to be searched, all whilst what was clearly a rabid dog walked around a carpark no more than 20 metres away from us.

The landscape in Bosnia is pretty barron. Good to look at for a minute, but very repetative.

Mostar Bridge

We stopped for lunch in this place called Mostar. It has a famous bridge and is the only tourist place in the country. Food was great, weather was scortching and we sat and had lunch over looking the famous bridge and wonderful river.

Each year they hold diving competitions off the birdge, the water looks so refreshing im tempted for next year!

Part 2:

Bosnia Border Crossing

This time we had to pass through Bosnia to get into Serbia. At the border we were stopped again and asked for our insurnace green card… which we don’t have. This meant we had to wait 2 hours for the insurance guy to show up and sell us car insurance for us to allowed into the country.

It did provide some time for us to bond with the border guards. We chatted about all sorts…. Extreme sports, the war, knife fights, shooting Rus and our trip. I even got to chit-chat a little in German with one of the guards who was allegedly from Germany.

Overall… the country is pants.

Everywhere is ridden with signs of war. Virtually every building in the cities we past through have bullet holes over it. Tonnes of HUGE buildings are just deserted and let derelict. Roads are horrible…. but better maintained than Brighton.

I don’t think I’ll be going back to Bosnia.