New plan and being positive

Well after a hard day of thinking yesterday, with various options leaping out at me all over the place I have figured out a plan and I am feeling decidedly positive about it all.

This is how it went.....

I left the Indian Embassy and little shell shocked that my carefully (not) laid plans for the next month seemed to be unraveling (my thoughts immediately turned to the outcome of the Iranian visa - but I have paid for it so surely they can't say no....can they?). I was feeling irritable, especially after the effort of getting to Ankara and holing up in a cheap hotel for the night was such a drain on the spirit (the claustrophobia of having nothing to do and nowhere to go was the main cause of the uneasiness in Ankara).

On arrival at another ENORMOUS Turkish Ottogar (otto is like 'auto' and 'gar'.....see the connections with latin...?) I had an hour or so to kill before my ride to Goreme so I shoved a couple of fetta and spinach 'things' into my mouth and jumped on the internet, finding Lucas online - the first we've had a chance for a quick chat since our underground farewell at Piccadilly Circus. Lucas suggested that I could fly to Kabul via Dubai and try sorting my Indian visa there - an option that had crossed my mind during the taxi ride. But his contact at the Indian Embassy later informed him that it would take a while to sort out as they need to send my passport back to Australia - so that killed that option.

The official at the Indian Embassy in Ankara had told me that the only place other than Australia that I could get the visa quickly and easily was in London. Although I still have slim hopes for the Embassy in Iran.

But for the time being I had to consider how and when I was going to get back to London. Prices flying back from Kabul, Tehran and Istanbul were ridiculous, expensive and reasonable, respectively.

Then, on arrival in my cavehouse in Goreme the most amazing thing happened. I was chatting to this English guy and he was born and bred in Shepherds Bush!!!! The first and possibly the only Englishman to call that part of London home.

So anyway - this English chap was the driver of one of those big overland trucks - going through Turkey, Syria, Jordan and Egypt - most people flying back from Cairo to London on the 1st of October (which coincided exactly with Heathers return to get her Indian visa as well). He offered me a spot on the truck for 300 pounds - not bad for a 26 day tour, I was about to say when (aware of the Contiki rorts) I enquired more about all the additional extras - turns out to eat and have a place to sleep it actually costs more like 500 pounds - out of my budget now - so I crossed that option off my list.

A bus from Tehran to Istanbul takes 40-48 hours - which really isn't that long. The more I thought about it the more I was beginning to realise that the Afghan dream was probably not going to happen this time around.

The initial feeling of being deflated after such a huge buildup, anticipation and daydreaming was soon replaced with more positive thoughts. It would make more sense to see more of Iran and Turkey during my time and then get a bus directly back to Istanbul for a flight to London, get the visa and fly to India - this is also the cheapest option. Some Turkish people here have been telling me that the militia/insurgents etc more or less drop their guns and escape the heat during summer, returning with more vigor during Autumn when the weather is a little cooler - and when I would be getting there. It'll also put a couple of minds at ease that I'm not going, including Heather's whom I'll get to see a couple of weeks earlier than we thought. And I'll get to see a few London friends one last time before heading home.

And with such a beautiful day that Goreme has today, and the promise of four days of pancakes on the beach and sleeping in treehouses in Olympos, I am feeling very excited about the next few weeks, including Iran now, which I saw as another delay before getting into Afghanistan.

Going for a mountain bike ride up a hill this afternoon and then off for a Turkish bath before my overnight bus to Olympos. I gave up on Pepys' bio - should have read his Diary first to understand all the references to characters. Swapped it for Ernest Hemingway and Malcolm Knox books.