Okay so we’re a few months behind, but really, news is only relevant to whether you’ve heard it or seen it previously, so before we return to Greece and onward to our 40,000 mile expedition across Asia, following the Silk Road, we have to tell you a little bit about my birthday. It was the big 7-0, so I was told I could do anything I wanted that was legal. Humm— Options like hot air ballooning over the Serengeti Plains or trekking to the base camp of Everest crossed my mind but Mexico was so close and relatively easy.

Stage one: Only a few days late, coming from South Korea, we took delivery of The Turtle V at the harbor in Long Beach, just off the Wallenius Wihelmsen Ro-Ro freighter, and headed south toward our good friends’ home in El Cajon. Plans were already in the works to fly to Guadalajara, Mexico where my cousin and her husband would join us for a second celebration, but first, what to do in San Diego? Of course the San Diego Zoo, one of the finest in the world, has always been a favorite place, (I hadn’t been there for years.), so off we went to see the elephants.

Dinner was my choice so smoked oysters, rib eye steaks and a nice zinfandel were on the menu. The next day found us sitting in the San Diego International Airport, passports in hand. Before I forget, thank you all for the wonderful birthday cards I received and the uncountable emails and Facebook congrats. I have them sitting on my desk right now. Even the ones I received while we were in Mexico were special. It’s never too late to get a birthday card.

It was 4:00 in the morning. An angry wind buffeted the side of our truck. I peeked out the window and it was snowing. What the ???!!? Glancing at the outside temperature gauge, it was a bitter 33°F. Inside it was a toasty 65°F as our Espar Airtronic purred away in its “maintenance mode”. I could only feel sorry for the hundreds of people surrounding us sleeping in ground tents, rooftop tents and pop-up campers. This was late Spring and it wasn’t supposed to snow or even rain.

We were attending the 7th annual Overland Expo at Mormon Lake Lodge outside Flagstaff, Arizona. It’s an event that is dear to our hearts since we can take some credit for bringing this level of recreational vehicle travel into its present popular state. These were not rock-crawlers or four-wheelers, towing their custom vehicles on a trailer to the trailhead, nor were they RVers driving giant motorhomes with three slide-outs. The six hundred registered attendees at this year’s event think of themselves as “Overland Travelers”, though perhaps not to the extreme of The Turtle Expedition, having recently finished our second circumnavigation of the planet. They may just be off for a couple of weeks in Mexico or perhaps a little jaunt down to the tip of South America and back.

To facilitate their experience of being “Overland Travelers”, there were 245 exhibitors showing off their specialized products. Everything from elaborate cook sets to rooftop tents to winches to complete ready-to-put-food-in-the-refrigerator-and-head-down-the-road-of-adventure vehicles. The options ranged from Jeeps and Land Rovers with rooftop fold-out tents to totally custom $800,000 giant Unimog and Freightliner trucks converted and built specifically for traveling overland in comfort with at least the intention of being able to go on bad roads, not just paved highways hopping from KOA to KOA. We question the practicality of some of them.

Our own Turtle V Expedition Vehicle with its custom Tortuga Camper always draws lots of attention because of its practical and functional design and compact size. It’s not too big to go on the backroads we’ve been following for 40 years but it has the luxuries of hard sides, a shower, a toilet, a comfortable bed, and the facilities to cook healthy meals on the road anywhere in the world. Having just returned from our 40,000–mile/22-country/two-year expedition following the Silk Road and driving from the Atlantic (Portugal) to the Pacific (China), up through Mongolia, Russia, and finally into South Korea before shipping home, The Turtle V exemplifies what an overland travel vehicle is supposed to be able to do.

During the event Monika and I sat on three Q&A “Ask the Experts” panels. We also presented a PowerPoint Photo Selection on portions of our adventure along the Silk Road.

While motorcycle enthusiasts tested BMWs and other motorcycles on a special track, the Land Rover folks were doing “ride and drives” over an extremely challenging muddy course. A gathering of ex-Camel Trophy Team Members were teaching attendees how to assemble log bridges the hard way. A total of 140 trainers were busy teaching 187 seminars and classes covering everything from winch safety to how to travel with dogs and children, reading GPS maps and long-distance trip planning.

Torrential rain and melting snow had made things difficult to say the least. Our own truck was sitting in a mud bog surrounded by a small lake. The clay/mud resembled something like brown Crisco. Despite the inclement weather, 3,500 enthusiasts milled through the interesting displays during the three-day event. Many stopped to talk with us. It gave us a great feeling to have dozens of fans telling us that reading our stories over the past four decades was their inspiration to become “Overland Travelers”. We realized that aside from just having a great time traveling around the world, we had evolved to a second purpose in our lives, to inspire others to follow our example.

With a little bit of sun on Sunday some of the larger vehicles made an attempt to follow the off-road driving course and proceeded to get thoroughly bogged down in the mud pits. Happy Hour each day gave everyone a chance to reconnect with old friends and meet new ones, all with a common interest.

Monday morning as the campers in the outfield, some with 2-wheel drive vans or heavy trailers, were being winched and towed out of the ankle-deep mud, we joined Marc Wassmann, founder of XPCamper, and headed for the nearest car wash to spray off some of the slop. Driving north through rain squalls and dust storms we finally emerged on the north side of the front that had been tormenting us and arrived at one of our favorite campsites in the incredibly beautiful Valley of the Gods. The weather still reminded us that Mother Nature always has the upper hand. We were treated to spectacular sunrises, sunsets and even a rainbow. Using our Mexican “discada”, (basically an old plow disc welded up into a portable wok), we had some wonderful meals with Marc, (a professional chef before he turned to building expedition campers), handling preparations. It was a great way to wind down after an exciting weekend. As we drove out the gravel road that twists its way through the Valley of the Gods we were reminded why we were Overland Travelers.

We are in Japan now and our trusty Turtle V expedition truck is on its way to California from South Korea. We will be celebrating another unique Christmas in historic Kyoto and later, since our flight to Sacramento leaves Tokyo on December 31, crossing the dateline and arriving on the 31st, we will enjoy the longest New Year’s Eve we’ve ever spent.

Christmas Season is subtle here in Kyoto with Christmas music playing softly in stores, coffee shops and shopping centers. We just bought tickets for a very special Kabuki (old style theater) performance on Christmas Eve at the Minamiza Theater, founded in 1615. For Kyoto residence, the opening of the Kabuki season (now) is as important as the traditional December performances of Nutcracker Suite and Dickens’ Christmas Carole in the US. We are excited to be able to attend this unique event.

We are wishing everyone a Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays and a super New Year!

Gary and Monika

Even in this far-away land, home of Toyota, Honda, Sony, Nikon, Canon and everything else so familiar to us, Christmas is alive and well and Santa Claus is looking for the nearest chimney. Didn’t we see him do this in Italy last year climbing the side of a motor home?

We are looking forward to spending Christmas Eve in the beautiful historic Minamiza Theater, founded in 1615. The famous 4 act – 4 hour Kabuki play and dance performance, anticipated by people from Kyoto and all over Japan, will be our Christmas gift to ourselves.

Turning off the Wakhan Corridor, we breathed a little sigh of relief, but really, compared to the roads we had driven through Georgia, Azerbaijan, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan and Tajikistan just to get to Khorog, the Wakhan had been a drive in the park. Now we headed west again, back to Khorog to resupply and to experience the Pamir Highway, reported to be vey beautiful and supposedly the best highway in the country. Humm??

We immediately hit pavement. Wow!! Real blacktop. Should we air the tires back up? Well not quite yet. The Pamir is paved, sort of, in-between the potholes the size of toilet bowls and sections of dusty gravel and rocks. Maybe 20 years ago it was a good road, but the convoys of overloaded Chinese semi tractor trailers hauling everything from earth movers to plastic household goods and rice have pretty much destroyed the road bed and no effort has been made to repair it. It was so bad, for a while, we almost turned around. Very glad we didn’t. The road didn’t get any better, but the scenery was spectacular, even more impressive than the Wakhan had been.

Local people were welcoming and friendly. Kids waved. A few times we were invited for “chai”, but we promised to stop on our way back. Already being familiar with Khorog, we knew the market and where to camp, get Internet, water and fuel. We arrived just before dark so we parked and headed straight to the well-known Indian restaurant for, (as we had been told), an excellent dinner and even a decent glass of wine. We deserved it!

We spent three days recuperating, meeting new people, shopping and catching up on our email and blogs (joke!!). The roads, (sic), we had followed since Turkey had pounded and beaten The Turtle V unmercifully. If it had feelings, it must have felt like one of those slave prisoners tossed into the Coliseum in Rome, set against wild animals and vicious gladiators armed with chain-whips, spears and clubs. The truck had survived, but tires, suspension, clutch, brakes, steering, and every mechanical component you can imagine has been severely tested. Careful preparation at Ken Imler’s Diesel Performance in Sacramento and our own choice of the best aftermarket products available have paid off. We can’t possibly list all the important companies who have helped build and outfit our expedition trucks for many years, but if you are curious, they are listed on the Suppliers Page on our web site.

After a rather futile attempt to wash off the mud and dust from the last thousand miles, we filled water and fuel and headed back east on the Pamir Highway, on our way to the Kyrgyzstan border. We knew with dread what the first part of the road conditions would be like, but we looked forward to a few stops to revisit new friends we had met on our way back from the Wakhan turnoff to Khorog.

People in the foreign countries we are visiting are part of the joy of overland travel, and for sure, the children are the most fun. They have no fear, no set opinions, no religious or political concerns. They are just curious that strange people in a strange vehicle from a place they may never have heard of suddenly appeared. We can show them on the map on the side of camper where we live, but usually it’s beyond their imagination. A balloon, one of our photo cards or some fun stickers from our sponsors always bring smiles. When they spot our truck coming, they often run to the side of the road and wave. Our passing may be the most exciting thing that has happened all week.

In villages along the road or in the big markets, there are many wonderful women. The lines in their faces show the hard life they have endured, but the smiles are always there. Men and older boys are more interested in The Turtle V but we can’t really answer their main question, “How much does it cost.” We just say that we don’t know because we have many sponsors. To explain why a custom expedition camper might cost over $180,000 is more than they can really grasp, so we try to avoid the question. Young girls are sometimes a little shy, but their magical smiles are a treasure. Family ties are extremely important, and we try to catch a photo when mother and daughter or father and son are together.

Tajikistan is a Muslim country, but a very liberal one at that. They are Ismaili Muslim and do not observe Ramadan. There was no call to prayer in the morning. The beautiful dresses of women might shock the eye, but they did cover their often-attractive figures. On the flip side, tight jeans and form-fitting blouses were not unusual, and a headscarf very optional.

From Turkey and east through the Stans, Monika’s worry of how she must dress and act in these Muslim countries turned out to be unfounded. Always wearing a headscarf and a full-length skirt with a long-sleeve shirt was not necessary, and being able to look men in the eye and shake their hands was not a problem. In fact, as we have done in Mexico and South America for years, when we reach a border check or a police ID stop, I stay in the truck and Monika gets out with our paperwork. The guards, all men, show her ultimate respect and perhaps are even a little thrown off guard that they are dealing with an attractive woman. The “macho man” relation is out the door. It’s kind of funny to watch.

Everyone you see in these photos and all that we met were neat and clean so it is hard to imagine that most did not have running water in their homes nor “bathrooms” as we imagine them. Often the best was an outhouse in the backyard with a “squat hole” and a pitcher of water.

After driving the Wakhan Corridor, we returned via the Pamir Highway back to Khorog to resupply, and that was another adventure.

Ever since we began planning our adventure along the Silk Road, the Wakhan Corridor had been an intermediate goal. It was part of the route that Marco Polo took on his journey across Central Asia in the 13^th century. The Corridor itself was created during the Great Game era (1800’s) by the Russian and British who decided their empires should not have a joint border in order to avoid conflicts, so they created this buffer zone, an artificial finger sticking towards China. They gave it to Afghanistan that is quite unfortunate, as the local population is far removed from Kabul and gets little support or attention.

While we expected the mostly unpaved route through the Wakhan Corridor could be difficult, we were shocked at the roads we had to drive from the capital of Tajikistan, Dushanbe, to Khorog, the center of the Gorno-Badakhshan Autonomous Region, which required a special permit. Once the pavement ended in the Panj Valley of the Wakhan Corridor outside Langar, the last village of the agricultural area, we switched to low range and 4×4 to negotiate the difficult sections more easily. But in fact, to our surprise, much of the road was quite passable although very bumpy and extremely dusty. Traffic was light. Small Chinese micro vans and burros seem to be the modes of transportation in the valley. 4×4 SUV’s in the higher, uninhabited altitudes worked better. Herds of cattle, goats and sheep occasionally crossed in front of us.

The attraction of this route along the Afghan border was always the beautiful mountains, some of the highest in the world. As we followed the Panj River and the later the Pamir, always along the Afghan border, the mountain range to our left has often been referred to as the “Roof of the World”. On the southern border of the Wakhan Corridor, the Hindu Kush Mountains could be seen in Pakistan.

We had hoped to meet some of the natives who live in the Pamir Mountains, herding their goats and sheep. To our surprise, most of our interaction was in small villages in the valley where potatoes, wheat and other grains were grown. The area is particularly famous for their apricots of which there are some 160 varieties throughout Central Asia. It was the perfect season for these delicacies. Children were selling buckets of apricots along the road and were waving at us to stop. They were hard to resist at 10 or 20 cents a pound, picked ripe right off the tree. Children, men and women waved as we passed. We sometimes stopped to give the children balloons or stickers from our sponsors.

Our camps were often near a village and occasionally, people would invite us for chai (tea) which we usually declined, knowing that times are tough and they often serve more than tea. People were very busy working in their fields and gardens. For us, it was also the reality that while everyone has a cell phone (or so it seems) and many have satellite dishes, none of them have running water and sanitation conditions are very third world.

We had hope to see a few of the endangered Marco Polo Bighorn Sheep but all we saw were marmots in the higher altitudes scurrying around and the occasional shrine with Ibex and Marco Polo sheep horns.

Some of our camps were above 13,000 ft. and we were able to enjoy hot water and even a nice shower thanks to the new high altitude compensation kit installed on our Espar D5 Hydronic coolant heater.

As we left the valley and climbed into the Southern Alichur Range towards Khorgach Pass, the scenery was shockingly beautiful with its lack of vegetation. Even at this elevation, a few flowers grew. Where sparkling creeks cascaded down from snow clad peaks, grass and small shrubs were growing but the perfusion of wild flowers we had seen in other high altitude areas like the California Sierras or the Swiss Alps, were missing.

On one occasion we were able to assist a couple with a dead fuel pump. They had been sitting on the side of the road for two hours with no vehicle passing and temperatures were down to 5 °C / 41 °F and evening was approaching quickly. Gary had the wire and connectors needed to jury-rig their fuel pump and after an hour, they were gratefully on their way. They presented us with a fresh loaf of Nan (flat bread) and some curiously tasting mothball size yoghurt/salt balls.

While there is much more to be said about this amazing section of the famous Silk Road, we hope the pictures below will give you an impression of our experience.

Despite the rumors of border conflicts, we encountered no problems of any kind and even the Afghanis across the river sometimes waved back to us.

Yes, our blogs are way behind again. We will get them caught up someday, but at the moment we are so busy keeping ourselves and the truck alive and experiencing this amazing part of the World that we have traveled so far to see. We made our way across Azerbaijan, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan and finally to the country of Tajikistan. Internet connections are frustratingly difficult. We are in Khorog, Tajikistan and today, we’ll be starting to drive the famous Wakhan Corridor along the Afghan border where Marco Polo traveled along the Silk Road.

Leaving the Peloponnese and heading to Piraeus, the Athens harbor, we had to cross the famous Corinth Canal that connects the Gulf of Corinth with the Aegean Sea. Cut through the narrow Isthmus of Corinth, it effectively makes the peninsula of the Peloponnese an island.

Several rulers in antiquity dreamed of digging a water passage through the Isthmus. The tyrant Periander was the first to propose such an undertaking in the 7^th century BC. (Can you imagine having to cut this canal with hand tools?) Abandoning the project, he constructed a simpler and less costly overland portage road, named the Diolkos, (stone carriageway), along which ships could be towed from one side of the Isthmus to the other. Remnants apparently still exist near the modern canal.

The idea of the Corinth Canal was revived after Greece gained formal independence from the Ottoman Empire in 1830, and especially after the openings of the Suez and Panama Canals, though it was not until 1882 in the presence of King George I of Greece that construction started. Despite several bankruptcies of companies and unstable walls in this seismic area, it was finally completed in 1893, eleven years later. There were still many more problems to contend with including eroding walls and World War II damage. (Read up on Wikipedia, it’s quite interesting.)

Though the waterway saves a 700 kilometer, (430 miles), journey around the Peloponnese, it is too narrow for modern ocean freighters. Ships can only pass through one at a time on a one-way system. Larger ships have to be towed by tugs. Today it may be used more by sightseeing tours, but 11,000 ships travel through the waterway every year.

Statistics:

Excavated at sea level thus not requiring any locks.

Length: 6,346 meters/20,820 feet

Depth: 8 meters/26 feet

Width on top: 24.6 meters/81 feet

Width on bottom: 21.3 meters/70 feet

Height of walls: 90 meters/300 feet.

The rock walls rise at a near-vertical 80-degree angle.

Bridges: railway line, a road and a freeway bridge at the height of about 45 meters/148 feet and a surprise, see below.

We followed Monika’s sister’s tip and headed for one of the submersible bridges that apparently were installed at sea level at each end of the canal in 1988. How clever! Soon after we arrived, the lights started blinking and to our amazement, the bridge really began to sink and then disappeared. Three big commercial ships passed us at safe distances from each other. Crewmen were on deck. We all waved and took photos of each other. At other times of the year, the two outdoor restaurants would be full with curious onlookers, all sipping cold Frappé, a popular frothy coffee drink.

Later, we did walk over the high road bridge, snapping photographs of more ships heading our way from the Aegean Sea. One seemed so wide, it almost touched the vertical walls.

Passing over the historic Corinth canal we drove to the Piraeus harbor from where we would ship over to the island of Crete.

Going way back to Greek history classes in high school, Monika has a vivid memory of the Lion Gate at Mycenae, so naturally this was a must-see stop. In the second millennium BC, Mycenae was one of the major centers of Greek civilization, a military stronghold that dominated much of southern Greece. According to legend and mythology, Mycenae was founded by Perseus, son of Zeus and Danaë, daughter of Acrisios, king of Argos.

We found a comfortable campsite in today’s Mycenae at Atreus Camping, (atreus@otenet.gr), and though not officially open, we were allowed to plug in and use their Wi-Fi Internet. We needed electricity to keep our batteries and computers charged. With the inclement weather, our solar panels were not putting out 100%. A small grocery store was nearby so we were set for a week of catching up on overdue blogs and emails once again.

There is a long history of Mycenae starting in Neolithic times, but going back to Homer’s Odyssey, the King of Mycenae was Agamemnon, married to Clytemnestra. His brother Menelaus, King of Sparta, was married to her beautiful sister Helen, (the infamous Helen of Troy). Helen ran off, (abducted?), with Paris of Troy. (Pay attention now. There will be a short quiz at the end.)

The legend gets quite juicy, right out of the Dallas TV series. Three goddesses, Hera, Athena and Aphrodite quarreled over which of the three was the fairest. The judge, Paris, the handsome son of the Trojan king Priam, decided in favor of Aphrodite, and as a reward, was promised the most beautiful woman in the world, Helen, who inconveniently happened to be the wife of king Menelaos of Sparta. Understandably pissed off by her abduction, Menelaos gathered 1,186 ships and over 100,000 men from 22 different states and principalities, under the command of Agamemnon, who you may recall was king of Mycenae, and set off to get his wife back. That was the start of the siege of Troy on today’s Turkish coast, a 10-year war as described in Homer’s Iliad. Returning home, there was no ticker parade. Agamemnon himself was brutally murdered in his bathtub by his wife and her lover! Bummer huh? Never trust a woman.

We did spend a day touring the museum, rambling around the famous Mycenae citadel ruins and the impressive huge domed tombs, but we did not find that infamous bathtub of Agamemnon!

Controversial German archaeologist, Heinrich Schliemann, believed in the historical truth of Homer’s books and interpreted the site accordingly. He excavated the area extensively, sometimes without permission. Upon discovering an ancient Tholos or “beehive” grave with a royal skeleton who’s skull was covered with a golden mask, he declared: ”I have gazed upon the face of Agamemnon”. It turned out to be a royal from a different time period.

And yes, the Lion Gate was even more impressive than the black and white picture in Monika’s history book.

Driving north towards Mycene and Corinth, we could have followed the freeway, but we had read in one of our guidebooks about the little alpine village of Kosmás on the coastal route.  It was a pretty easy choice.

Heading into the Párnonas Mountains, the tortuous two-lane road was very steep. Second and third gear travel really suck up the fuel. Crossing a pass at 1150 m, (3772 ft), we encountered dense fog. Fortunately the traffic was light. As we came to a 90° corner, we almost passed the tiny village of Kosmás in the soupy mist.

Parking next to the church, the place had a mystical feeling. A huge Plantain tree, over 100 years old according to the plaque, dominated the small plaza. Taverns were all empty, but in summer, this could be a very enjoyable place to cool off and hang out for a few mezas, (hors d’ourvres), and a cold ouzo.

Monika started a quick cup of coffee while Gary investigated the little village in hopes of finding some cookies. Sure enough, he found this cute old lady and her husband in a tiny cluttered general store. A potbelly stove gave warmth to the gloomy day. They did have cookies, and he headed back to get Monika so she would not miss a local experience.

Returning to the store, the old lady welcomed us with a friendly smile and herded us next door where she had homemade jams & cookies, canned olives and honey for sale. She was a charmer and a determined saleswoman. She knew one English word: “honey”. She explained how she gathered the olives, sliced & pickled them and tempted us with samples of her homemade cookies. We left with an armload of goodies. The olives were plump and juicy.

With full cups of hot coffee, we headed back into the fog. Our GPS gave us a forewarning of what the road looked like. Views over the edge to the turquoise river were beautiful. High on a cliff above, an old monastery clung to the rocks. Why do they build these places of worship in such absurd locations?