We continued our quest to discover which countries Terry Wogan invented just to add interest to Eurovision, as we left Bosnia and Herzegovina, and entered Montenegro. As usual, things almost went to plan; but with illness, closed border crossings, and embassy opening times, we spent a day cycling with all the honesty of Lance Armstrong, and took alternative transport for the hundred miles from Dubrovnik to Bar.

The bridge at Mostar, Herzegovina.

After almost 2,500 km, and a solid month on the bikes, we are taking a short break in order to rest our muscles, sort out visas, and enjoy some more intelligent company. To that end, we stored our bikes in Montenegro, where we will return in a week, and reached Istanbul by train. As soon as we arrived in the city, it became apparent what a riot it was. Unfortunately, this manifested itself all too literally, and we were almost immediately tear-gassed. We have spent the last few days battling our way through the bureaucracy of embassies for countries that you only thought existed in Sacha Baron Cohen films, and now have to wait to see if/when we will receive our visas. Still, this is better than a kick in the ribs (something Andrew can say with some authority, having recently received one from a belligerent Montenegrin police officer).

Andrew with the World’s largest Jaffa cakes. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t kick him too.