Swapping the Tyres Round

Day one hundred and eighteen, Turkey. On to Georgia, the country on the Black Sea between Europe and Asia. Two days, I reckon. Turkey is large.

First I have to get out of here. The gravel track away from the campsite is steep and broken up.

Susi weighs almost nothing, and behind her is a trailer that weighs a good deal more than she would like. Coming in, it was downhill. Going out, it isn't. My estimate is that this will be close, and that the old all-weather tyres on the front will not do it. They spin at the first excuse.

Fortunately the inspector found a bad tyre before I left, so there are two new ones on the back with proper tread on them. Thank you, Holger.

So I take the wheels off the back and put them on the front, and the ones from the front go on the back. Then we can go.

I am looking forward to Georgia. Not much industry. A great deal of country.

How you cross a continent in a car this small: you take the back seat out, fold the passenger seat down, cut a cushion to fit behind it, and put a small table behind the driver. That is the whole trick.