Today we set off at a slightly more decent hour… but without overdoing it, as we shouldn’t lose our good habits. In about twenty minutes, we were already at the border with Turkey. Well, in the queue for the border, which is where the adventure really begins.

Left lane for cars, right for lorries. We were in the car lane, moving little by little, very little by little. An hour and a half until we reached the first booth, the one for leaving Greece. Plenty of time to observe, yawn, change position, and yawn again. Slower than a snail's pace.

From there, everything went quite smoothly. In another fifteen minutes or so, we had already crossed the bridge that connects the two countries, spanning the Evros River, which serves as a natural border. That moment is curious: a normal bridge, nothing special… but you cross it and you are suddenly in another country, with another language, other rules, and, most importantly, other smells.

The Turkish check was quick and straightforward, and in no time we were officially inside.

First mandatory stop: a petrol station. And here, what a joy. Diesel at 72 lira, more or less €1.45. Significantly better than the two euros in Greece. Daddy Edu breathed a sigh of relief; filling the tank here hurts much less.

The employees were lovely. Very friendly and quite curious about the camper. They came over to look at the structure on the back of the truck with interest, and Daddy Edu opened the door so they could see the inside. I supervised the visit, of course, as this is my home too.

Then we made a quick stop at a supermarket and continued our search for a place to eat and sleep. But, of course, it's Sunday. And Sunday in Turkey means: national picnic and barbecue day.

Everything was full. Parks, areas, car parks… families everywhere, tables, barbecue smoke, children running about. An atmosphere everywhere, but zero peace and quiet. So we carried on driving.

We did another hundred kilometres or so, passing Tekirdağ, always with the sea nearby, until we found a place we liked. On the coast, with plenty of space. There were also families with their barbecues, but here at least we weren't packed like sardines.

We set up, went for a short walk, and let the day wind down bit by bit. And the best part came afterwards: as night fell, everyone started to pack up. One by one, cars left, barbecues were extinguished… and suddenly, silence. We were left alone. The sea in front of us again, no noise, no people. Just us.

A good first day in Turkey. It started with a queue, but it ended just how we like it.