As our surroundings got narrower and narrower, we proceeded up a road that you could barely fit a caravan through with vehicles parked either side and people crossing left-to-right, right-to-left. If this wasn’t enough, we were in the midst of a market, with traders stopping to load and unload goods. As difficult as it was the locals were fantastic, and we doubt they would have seen many caravans in Istanbul, let alone in the middle of an old market.
Stuck in the middle of the market for around 90 minutes, we somehow managed to squeeze our way out and back onto the main coastal road of the Bosphorus.
As we reached the Galata Bridge, there was a feeling of complete and utter relief. From the start of entering Istanbul to when we reached the bridge, it had taken us 5 hours of towing, when really it should have been done and dusted in 30 minutes, all thanks to traffic, tight roads and of course getting hopelessly lost.
Arriving at the bridge that spans the Goldern Horn
was a fantastic achievement, not only had we experienced moments we will never forget but we somehow managed to arrive in convoy, all together, and the poor old photography team (that had waited for three hours in a restaurant) finally got that shot they had been waiting for. The iconic image of two Bailey caravans, two Skoda tow vehicles and a Bailey motorhome crossing the Bosphorus was always meant to be part of our Bristol to the Bosphorus trip, and finally we had that shot.
From here, things didn’t get much better as we headed off and hit Istanbul rush hour as we took another wrong turn. Completing a circuit of the Besikitas football stadium, we finally arrived at the campsite on the Asian side of the Bosphorus Bridge
3 hours later.