Superbabushki riding on the planet.

Having read books by Anton Krotov and fell under the hypnotic charm of the author, Tamara Kopeiko Muscovite (59 years) and Nina Kutuzov (69!) decided to hitchhike, and for the first time (!) to get through 6 countries to Syria, where the waving her handkerchief after serving on a circumnavigation a young "wise men" (as Anton calls his followers the wise teachings, members of the Academy of voluntary travel). About how to start this journey, we are told in the previous issue. Below - further adventures superbabushek.

* C transfers arrived the night before Pleven. Forces already there. In the darkness, pitched a tent right in the park near the station and collapsed into sleep. So good I do not seem to sleep never in my life! Morning at the station cafe cooked porridge by the method Krotov (it like this: pour cereal into a ladle and ask her to cook cafe worker; bartender usually surprised and on its own initiative adds to the mess the sugar and butter), gladly gobbled it and drove on. At 12.30 had already been in Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria.
Sobiralas I was in Moscow in emergency mode, and the Bulgarian Binet, my girlfriend, with whom he studied at the institute did not call. And even address it is not recorded, relying on visual memory. But it turned out that, since my last visit to Sofia, there was built a few more complex "Mladost" and therefore to find a house Bina proved to be not easy. Nina planted in the little square, I tried to get the address at the police station. But there's no way I could prove that I am not a spy. Went back home to look visually. And the eyes have tears: no joke, good three o'clock I go to no avail! In a moment it seemed that the men seated at a table on the street, I saw Todor, husband of Bina. I ran to him, but ... In general, burst into tears ...
Men lost their heads, then one of them asked me, went to the nearest store, picked up the phone book and quickly found the address and phone Bins and Todor . And the police told me that this is sensitive information! Again, good people helped. Thanks! (My thanks - Bulg.)
Meeting with Bina was happy! We had not seen for over 10 years! She, too, retired. Todor is now in the village, Nicholas (son), a handsome, working in his firm. Bean's still the same slim, clever, we immediately began to wash, feed ... For four days we lived in paradise. Walked through our wall (road charters), all museums - ethnographic, historical, zoological, Arts, visited the church of Alexander Nevsky, the Russian Church of St. Nicholas and the most ancient Christian temple, where there were witnesses to the marriage. In the evening the city was still beautiful - illuminated fountains, colored jet beat in rhythm with the music.
But it is time for the journey. 6 August at 6.40 am we sit in the Express Sofia - Burgas ". Explore, read our DW, politely inquiring as to what station we need to get there? To Plovdiv, where transplant. "Bon Voyage!" Thanks! (Thanks!) In Plovdiv found for Mitko, a nephew of Bina, and a day before departure pytnicheskogo (commuter) train to Svilengrad walks to historical sites.
They arrived just before Pervomaya. Even a trip to the head of the train did not give the desired result - to go no further permission. Okay. To the border with Turkey, there were 5 stops: Dmitrovgrad, Maritza, Harmanli, Lover, Svilengrad. Sunk without a permit in another pytnichesky train where the conductor took us for their own and never bothered. At 20.30 arrived in Svilengrad, where 0.45 boarded the train "Bucharest - Istanbul".
* Border between Bulgaria and Turkey. Border control, checking tickets. Show the DW translation in Turkish there is only written in Russian letters Turkish word about who we are. And so I begin with (I think) to read these words. Supervisors in disarray, left, left us. Yes, and a neighbor - a Bulgarian-Turks with two passports - put in a word for some incomprehensible language for us. This Fifty-fifty people immediately began to patronize us, we have been very helpful to him: he was carrying contraband honey and vodka, and in the inspection of some of the things "written off" on us. Let's go. Turkish checkpoint must run in a long queue to get a stamp in the passport. Ran down one by one. The neighbor got the die at the Bulgarian border in the Bulgarian passport in Turkey - in Turkish. After a long search, he thanked us and dragged into another car, where the seats were soft and could get some sleep. But soon the Bulgarian-Turkish landed with their bags, and we Ninoy were left alone in an empty wagon.
Station Sarier. Come two supervisors - the young, beautiful, burning brunettes. We showed them our DW, I read the translation with the phrase ", but reached a totally unexpected result! A young man came to the combat readiness: eyes sparkled, his hands trembled, rose twig! He began to demand or sex. I was struck dumb with terror and language pouring tears! Began to scold him with all the familiar abusive words in Georgian (in Russian do not know how) and ask the police! Strayed! They're gone. But to go further in Turkey "dogs" is forever eliminated the hunt.
And again we are at the station, looking for exchange, but it does not work: on the weekend everything is closed. How to move forward? There good people, seeing our sincere desire to buy a ticket and go to Istanbul, accompanied us on the platform and told the inspector our cash-strapped state. So we rode another train to Istanbul, where we had to move to another station - in Pamukras. The road there goes through the Bosphorus. And we have not been able to change money. The cashier at the ferry took me a dollar, trying to cheat once in three. I would not let him it took the dollar back. And then the cashier waved his hand and told him to miss us, without a ticket (ticket). Shukri! (Thanks!) So we tried "morstop".
Arriving on the other side, found the right train, found his head and read his "transfer" DW strict, formal tone. He understood it all! Allowed! And we have Nina and happy, went to plunge into the Sea of