Thursday 
21.8.2025 
420km Total: 5296km 
5h 55m Total: 75h 46m
120km Total: 1620km
2.67km Total: 177.39km 
Since I entered the western part of Türkiye, the road standard has gotten significantly worse, but there are still multi-lane highways and traffic is flowing.
I left the hotel late and take my time but still arrived at the port in Taşucu ridiculously ahead of time, even though they require check-in two hours before departure.
I spent some time at a kebab shop with a snack and some tea.
I went down to the port three hours before the boat was supposed to depart and after passport control I was allowed to ride in and park.
Inside there where exemplary signs stating "passengers and vehicles" telling me where to go.
In the building next to the parking area, the passport was stamped as a mere formality.
The check-in, however, was anything but exemplary as it was in a building on the other side of the entrance and in a hatch facing the quay that was not visible until you started walking around the building.
After checking my passport, booking and registration, I got my tickets and was able to get back to the bike.
The border police specifically told me to leave the bike so in the meantime I assume they where supposed to have checked it but I didn't notice that anything had been messed with at all and immediately I get back they open a gate so we can go down and line up on the quay.
Many of us are early (which is partly necessary due to the early check-in) because we stand there for half an hour to forty-five minutes before they even start unloading the cars that came from the other direction.
It is almost embarrassing to admit that I didn't know this but the thought didn't occur to me that Cyprus drives on the left side of the road until I see all the right-hand drive CY-registered vehicles.
It will be exciting to set off on the wrong side of the road tomorrow morning probably without having slept a wink for twenty four hours or more.
While waiting, a South Cypriot biker named Damian rides up and parks along side.
He and his girlfriend had taken the ferry over to Greece and had taken a long trip through the Balkans and Türkiye to finally make it back to the island.
When we finally get to board the ferry, I'm denied entry because I was supposed to have had my ticket stamped by customs.
No one could explain where customs actually was, so I head back on a completely wild goose chase and go back into the building where the border police were.
They don't understand what I'm on about at all and just want to check my passport again.
I rode back to the boat and asked them to try and explain better.
One guy speaks at least decent English and he chats with the loading master, after which he says Don't worry, well make sure you'll get on the boat.
I was still a but worried, but then at least the wild panic that I would be left behind because of a damn stamp subsided.
Finally, a guy shows up on a moped and guides me back to the customs office, which is a small (and completely unmarked) barracks on the side of the building where I checked in.
When I finally get on the ferry, no one told me where to go so the only reasonable thing to do was to park where another bike and a scooter were already standing.
Before I leave the bike, I talk to a stevedore and ask if it's okay to just leave the bike on the side stand (which the others have done) and he says okay.
However, I forget a few things I intended to bring with me during the crossing so after a while I go back down and when I pick it up I run into another stevedore, so again I point to my bike and ask if it's okay. He also says okay.
After a good fifteen minutes, they call out Damian's registration number over the speakers.
He doesn't seem to notice this, but eventually I meet him and he is accompanied by one of the stevedores who says that I also need to come along.
Unfortunately, it wasn't the English-speaking stevedore so it's hard to get him to explain what the problem is and when he says 'customs' again I think ok, game over, they're going to kick me off the boat for some bureaucratic customs blunder and I'll miss the sailing we at this point should already have departed hours ago.
Once down by the bikes, however, it turns out that Damian seems to have made the same mistake as me but somehow still managed to get on board the boat without the stamp.
In my case, it was about the bike's placement (which was ok according to two different people) not being ok at all. It had to be moved to a completely different spot.
The new placement didn't seem much better from my perspective than the old one so I think it was really about them wanting to optimise the placement of the trucks on car deck.
At best I could have sat and dozed in a chair during the five-hour crossing, but considering what a heart thumping thriller this turned out to be, it wasn't until long after the ferry had left (which wasn't until after 2am) that I started to relax and stopped sitting on my haunches waiting to hear my registration number called out over the speakers.
Why not take the opportunity to buy a new wheelchair while filling up at the gas station?
Even though there was a lot of highway riding, it was a damn nice highway.
The port of Taşucu
If you're stupid enough to try and replicate this journey hopefully this might help with where to go and what to do
