92

We arrived at the Bulgaria-Turkey border at just after midday. We brought food and drink expecting to be waiting for quite a while. When we got there it would seem that the way to the actual border control area has been moved because the signs pointed us to a road that had many, many trucks on it, pointed straight at us. Clearly this was not the way in. after a few u-turns and a few more u-turns we eventually made it to the border control area proper, only to find it just like all the other borders we have come across, empty. The cheery Bulgarian official checked our passports in about 30 seconds, no problems. On to the Turkish side. We didn’t have visas since the information we had said we could buy them at the border. Following some tentative slow driving, not quite knowing where we should be going and being a little intimidated by the lack of traffic (maybe everyone else knows something we don’t) we came to the first booth. Handing over our passports the guy asked “where are your visas?” visions of Midnight Express come into my head. We say we don’t have any, “oh….. 92” he replied. Ok, it cost 92, but where do we get them? “Yes, yes, 92” emphasised with the number 92 written on a piece of paper. Waved on to the next booth marked ‘Customs’ where this guy said we needed to get the visa first, then see the guy in the first booth again. He also said 92and said if we park off to the side we can walk to get the visa. We parked the car and went in search of the visa office. There were two offices in a large building next to the many rows of booths outside (only one of which was operational). We went in one building and managed to find someone who spoke a little English to help us. “Yes, visa. Outside. 92” Ok. We have established for the third time that is cost 92 but we are still nowhere closer to finding out where to get it. The office in the building next door had the police in it, maybe they know. Walking down a corridor with glass walled office cubicles, we found one that announced itself as “Passport Office”. This sounds a little more likely. Stepping into the room, the smell of sweat and manliness was like a wall you had to walk through. It smelled like what I would imagine Bargearse’s office to smell like, or even what a Turkish police office with six officers, five other men and an old woman to smell like. We waited for about 10 minutes for the one officer who was designated to work (the others were quite obviously on a break and gave the ‘don’t even think about asking me something’ look) to finish what he was doing. Finally I ask about the visa. “yes, 92” was the answer. Ok, but where? “booth number 92 outside”! Of course, they weren’t all telling me it cost 92, but to go to booth number 92, which as it turns out, we walked straight past already. Approaching booth 92, it appeared as if no one was there, but as we got closer we could see a T.V on inside. When we reached the window, there was an older man asleep on a couch. Clearly they don’t get too many visa requests at this border crossing. He didn’t look too thrilled that we woke him up to do his job. 60 Euro’s later and we had our visas. After that the rest was problematic and only took another 10 minutes, most of that waiting for the three or four cars to go through first. The last check was ‘baggage control’ which consisted of looking at the car, then stamping the passport. He did seem confused that the car is French and I was using a British Passport, if only he could detect an Australian accent. There was one more booth about 100m away that was more of a ‘hello’ booth since they said hello then opened the barrier and there before us was the highway to Istanbul. If this is the worst border crossing I will be happy, the whole thing taking about 45 minutes from start to finish.
Of course at borders they frown upon the taking of pictures, but there was one we managed to get, which is of a mosque on the Turkish sid of the border control. This is our first image of Turkey.