Having travelled over 2500 miles with Savas and Gullu it was time to say farewell as I walked back across the border into Mexico with my bike helmet in hand. We had learnt quite a bit from each other, I've introduced him to wild camping and off-roading, and also the concept of the "kitty" (shared money) and what a woman means when she says she is going to "powder her nose". From him I have learnt several words in Turkish, a better appreciation of Mexico and met many of his good friends in Puerto Vallarta who had helped him out so much after his accident earlier this year. I was also pleased to witness the reverse cultural effect of religious awakenings. In common with the majority of travellers who head East, in the past I have been rudely awoken many times in the early hours of the morning by the often shrill and always loud call to prayer from the muezzin at the nearby mosque. I learnt early on to avoid hostels and hotels that were within sight of the minarets of a mosque. In Mexico, I was amused to hear Savas (who comes from Turkey, a muslim country) complain about hostels being too close to the catholic churches, and their bells waking him up. I felt a sneaking sense of getting my own back.