17 TURKEY (2)
3053 Km - 53 Days
20
March – 12 May 2008
20
March – Aleppo, Syria – Reyhanli, Turkey – 74 kilometres
Nervously,
Ernest and I biked from Aleppo, Syria towards the Turkish border, wondering if
visas on arrival were issued. It wasn’t possible a few months earlier, and I
had to apply at the Embassy beforehand. This time, though, rumours had it that procedures
had changed. Mercifully, this was indeed the case and, without delay, we were
granted a 30-day Turkish stay. So delighted were we, we parked off in the nearby
border town of Reyhanli.
Turkey
was surprisingly different to the previous countries cycled. Thank goodness we were
finally out of the desert, but the smidgen of Arabic picked up was of no use
any longer. The incredible Turkish hospitality came as a welcome surprise, and
it seemed, they continually wanted to feed us.
Our
first night in Turkey was spent camping in a town park near a lake, resulting in
regularly served tea. An invitation to a nearby restaurant was a fascinating
experience. Not only were we treated to a meal, but I also had my first lesson
in making Gözleme, a traditional savoury flatbread made with unleavened dough.
The dough was rolled super thin and topped with various toppings. It subsequently
became one of my all-time favourite snacks in Turkey.
21
March - Reyhanli - Belen – 74 kilometres
We
said goodbye to our friendly hosts and pedalled over the mountains to Belen,
where we bunked down in a proper hotel. As the room came with hot showers,
towels, and soap, I showered twice and rinsed my clothes. Included in the price
was a breakfast spread and I believe our stay was a total loss to the owner,
taking into account the number of showers and the amount of food consumed.
22
March - Belen - Botaş – 87 kilometres
After
breakfast, we ambled along a further 87 kilometres to Botaş. We pitched our
tents on the beach, a beautiful spot, and the stares were considered par for
the course. In Turkey, one could free camp practically anywhere without anyone
raising an eyebrow, making the country a cycling paradise.
23
March - Botaş - Tarsus – 127 kilometres
The
main road made it pleasant to ride to the historic city of Tarsus. We were not
the first visitors to Tarsus as the region had a long history dating back about
6000 years. Turkey’s history was truly mind-blowing, and even the smallest of
settlements had remains of days gone by.
I’m
sure we weren’t supposed to cycle on the toll road, but being a public holiday,
the way was quiet. So relaxed were we that we rolled into Tarsus way beyond
sunset. Although Tarsus is a modern city today, it’s said to have been the
meeting place between Mark Antony and Cleopatra, as well as Paul the Apostle’s
birthplace.
24
March - Tarsus - Kizkalesi – 92 kilometres
The
next day, we followed the shore which led through numerous settlements and past
various ancient ruins until finally reaching Kizkalesi with its imposing castle
off the coast. The town had a beautiful beach which made for perfect tenting.
Our
impromptu campsite overlooked a historical island housing impressive ruins of a
12th-century Byzantine castle. According to legend, the Fortress of Kizkalesi
was built by a sultan to protect his daughter, who was to die of snakebite.
Tragically, a snake snuck into the castle in a fruit basket, and even this
massive fortress couldn’t protect her.
25
March - Kizkalezi – Yeçilovacik – 71 kilometres
The
Turkish landscape was exceptionally scenic but came with steep mountain passes.
As a result, the day became one of wheezing my way up near-vertical inclines and
descending at breakneck speed, only to repeat the process continuously. Finally,
the windy weather forced us to call it a day on reaching an area sporting a protected
spot next to the ocean.
26
March – Yeçilovacik - Aydinçic – 48 kilometres
Thankfully,
the wind subsided during the night. The following morning, our route proceeded along
the hilly road until finishing the day’s ride at Aydinçic, a meagre 48 kilometres
later. But by then, I had enough of the hills. So, before losing my sense of
humour, I thought better of it and located an abode overlooking the ocean.
27
March - Aydinçic - Anamur – 63 kilometres
How
time flies! It was precisely a year since leaving South Africa, and the most
significant thing I learned was how little I knew.
Turkey
and its friendly people were a good place to celebrate our first year of
travel. So generous were the people they ran after us with food. I kid you not
- a scene as funny as it was kind. A few kilometres further, at a viewpoint, food
once more arrived compliments of the other picnickers. Well-fed, we made our
way past banana plantations and Mamure Castle to where camp was set up outside
Anamur, close to the southernmost point of Turkey.
28
March - Anamur - Gazipaşa – 82 kilometres
Packing
up, we were presented with a fresh eel by one of the fishermen, and I wasn’t sure
what we were supposed to do with it. It subsequently dawned upon me that maybe
he merely wanted to show the eel to us and not give it away. From Anamur to
Gazipaşa was 82 kilometres, but the day was marred by even sharper climbs than the
previous days (I didn’t think it possible).
Dead
tired and with rain pelting down, Gazipaşa came precisely at the right time. Surprisingly,
it was right there, in the waters of Gazipasa, where archaeologists uncovered a
small bronze statue of Pegasus dating to 300 BC. It’s indeed an area with a
long history.
29-30
March – Gazipaşa - Alanya – 50 kilometres
The
short distance between Gazipasa and Alanya was picturesque, on a surprisingly flat
road. The route took us along the coast the best part of the way, and one
couldn’t help but kick back and enjoy a beer in touristy Alanya’s harbour area.
We’d
barely booked into a room when a thunderstorm broke, a storm that continued
through the night and the following day. We stayed put and filled ourselves
with good Turkish bread, cheese, and olives, and it seemed Ernest had grown to fancy
the Turkish sausage.
31
March - Alanya - Side – 64 kilometres
The
weather cleared, and riding to the ancient port city of Side became a pleasant
day. Once there, sufficient time remained to explore the ancient Hellenistic
ruins. Modern Side is situated amidst an old town and there are ruins aplenty. However,
the hugely impressive part was the well-preserved amphitheatre, Apollo Temple,
a façade of a library, and a Roman bath.
1-2
April - Side - Antalya – 94 kilometres
Ninety-four
kilometres of pleasurable biking along Turkey’s Emerald Coast brought us to
historic Antalya. I miraculously managed to locate the campsite, where I had stayed
a few months earlier—an interesting setup with treehouses and old wooden
jetties, all slightly neglected but inexpensive. We stayed two nights as the establishment
had a washing machine, a long-overdue job. Later we visited the ancient city of
Antalya.
Antalya
has been continuously inhabited since founded in the 2nd century BC. Like any
good Turkish city, the town had its fair share of remnants from its heyday as a
Roman port, and Old Antalya still surrounds the old harbour area. The historic district
included many buildings dating to Ottoman and Roman times. Hadrian’s Gate was highly
impressive, built in 130 AD. The 2nd-century Hidirlik Tower, with harbour views
thought to have been constructed as a lighthouse, was equally remarkable.
3
April - Antalya - Bucak – 92 kilometres
Due
to only being granted a 30-day stay, we needed more visa time. Extending a
Turkish visa appeared problematic and, in general, backpackers hopped across
the border instead.
We
investigated various options, of which all required getting to Istanbul. Hence,
we didn’t continue along the coast but veered inland over the mountains toward
Burdur. Unfortunately, the interior’s late winter weather remained freezing and
the road uphill. Moreover, the rain encountered made the going considerably
slower than anticipated. We thus crawled into Bucak in the late afternoon,
sopping wet and in arctic conditions.
4
April - Bucak - Keçıboru – 85 kilometres
How
quickly circumstances can change. I received a message from my dear friend Esther
stating she could meet us in Istanbul for a cycling holiday in Turkey. I was delighted
and couldn’t wait to see Esther as I expected the trip would be great fun. We hence
no longer had to rush to Istanbul and planned to extend the visas once there. Unfortunately,
it subsequently turned out far more complicated than anticipated.
The
route led past Burdur, climbed over more snow-covered mountains, and past green
farmlands until reaching Keçıboru. Keçıboru was a small
settlement and judging by the attention our presence created, not many
foreigners overnighted in Keciboru.
5-7
April - Keçıboru - Sandikli – 67 kilometres
The
following morning, we pointed the bikes in Istanbul’s direction. Still, upon
reaching Sandikli, I weakened at the thought of a warm room as I had enough of
mountains, cold weather, and rain by then. We subsequently stayed two nights,
as the weather took a turn for the worse and the chance of encountering snow over
the forward mountain passes scared us.
Sandikli
resembled a ski destination and appeared cold year-round as the room was geared
solely for cold weather. Sauntering around the village was a timeous affair, as
there were numerous invitations to tea; even at the butcher.
8
April - Sandikli - Altintas – 110 kilometres
Ernest’s
birthday came on a bright sunny day, and we loaded up and pointed the bicycles
in the direction of Istanbul. By then, we’d been in Turkey for almost two weeks.
Only on departing Sandikli did we discover the hours’ time difference between
Syria and Turkey. It felt good being outside after being cooped up for three long
days.
The
way to Altintas was less mountainous, and after 110 kilometres, we pitched our
tents in a farmer’s field in the company of a few cows. The spot was next to a
petrol station. As a result, many came to chat, some brought tea and other Turkish
Delight, and it seemed one couldn’t just pop in for a visit empty-handed.
9
April - Altintas - Inonu – 82 kilometres
The
weather turned bitterly cold, and we woke to ice on the tent. Following more
tea, the time was quarter to eleven before eventually departing. En route to
Inonu, we met two cyclists from Germany (the first since Sudan) on a six-week
holiday. Each year, they did a cycle trip, picking up where they left off the
previous year, which I considered a marvellous idea, especially with limited
time.
The
Altintas and Inonu area was well known for porcelain production, and we
encountered various porcelain factories. It started raining and we were offered
accommodation by an older man living in a container divided into two rooms—how immensely
kind of him as he was a man of few possessions.
We,
nevertheless, opted for a roadside motel where the room was warm as toast. The
light in the room was, however, fitted with an automatic motion sensor. Meaning
one had to keep moving about. How strange. Ernest fixed (or broke) it, and we could
at least read in peace without jumping up every few minutes, arms flailing.
10
April - Inonu - Inegol – 112 kilometres
Once
again, it was late in the day by the time we got underway. The weather remained
icy in the high-lying areas, and hard to make one’s way out the door.
Ernest
had taken to picking up all kinds of things, mainly tools. He claimed a number
ten spanner fitted all the nuts on his bike racks, and an adjustable wrench is a
tool no man could cycle past.
We
also met one lonely cyclist on his way to Beijing. The rest of the way mostly
descended until we came upon a grassy patch suitable for pitching tents.
11
April - Inegol - Gemlik – 88 kilometres
Spring
had finally sprung, and the day became enjoyable with flowers everywhere. At Gemlik,
our chosen route left the main road and followed the scenic path along the
coast. Albeit hilly, the area was blessed with fantastic scenery and a grassy
parking lot next to the ocean made a perfect place to pitch the tents.
12
April - Gemlik - Cinarik – 70 kilometres
Our
leisurely departure was mainly due to our reluctance to leave such a lovely spot.
The path ran along the coast, offering stunning views of the Sea of Marmara. True
to a scenic route, the road remained hilly until reaching Cinarik. A lay-by on
a green hill overlooking the Sea of Marmara signalled the end of the day’s ride.
From
our site, we could see Istanbul’s lights across the bay. The Sea of Marmara is
an inland sea that connects the Black Sea to the Aegean Sea, thus separating
Asia from Europe. So, officially, we were still in Asia.
13
April - Cinarik - Istanbul via Yalova – 21 kilometres
A
short 21-kilometre cycle took us to Yalova, where ferries departed to Istanbul,
sparing us the horrendous Istanbul traffic. Once off the ferry, we found the street
from the port into the city centre surprisingly dead quiet, with us the only
people. We subsequently discovered an international cycle race was taking place
that day. A good thing we didn’t encounter them. Imagine what a spectacle that would
have made!
14-20
April - Istanbul
The
entire day was spent trying to extend our Turkish visas but to no avail. No one
spoke English, and the staff seemed reluctant to lend assistance. The immigration
office primarily dealt with the extension of residence permits which wasn’t what
we needed. Ultimately, we gave up as it was far less troublesome to hop across
the border.
The
next day, we boarded a train to Bulgaria to cross the border and re-enter
Turkey. Still, to our surprise, the train ended up in Greece, despite being
marked “Bulgarian Border”. The Greek officials couldn’t stamp our passports, as
we had no Greek visas. Hahaha. Visions of us stuck in the small no-mans-land
between the two countries flashed before my eyes. Turkish officials thus couldn’t
give us a new visa as officially we never left. They were, fortunately,
prepared to cancel our exit stamp. We made peace with the idea of being illegally
in Turkey for the remainder of our stay. A decision was made to deal with the
problem when leaving the country, a risky option but the single one available at
the time.
The
following day, we explored the possibility of flying out. Still, the flight and
the visa fee entering neighbouring countries didn’t make this a viable option.
The
remainder of our time was spent visiting the cities’ numerous attractions and meandering
the narrow pedestrian lanes and bustling markets. Istanbul is indeed a place
filled with colour, smells, exotic produce, and a vibe that will stay with you
forever once experienced.
Esther
landed in Istanbul on 19 April, bicycle and all, and what a surprise to find, besides
the bike, she only had one bag. Of course, anyone knowing Esther would know this
is virtually impossible.
20
April - Istanbul - Riva – 45 kilometres
Getting
out of the city and over the suspension bridge across the Bosporus, practically
took the entire day. I am pretty sure we weren’t supposed to cycle across that
bridge, but we gunned it across without being chased down.
Esther
did exceptionally well on her first day and, having a new bike, didn’t even
fall off once! The going was slow as the countryside was surprisingly hilly. Still,
we managed 45 kilometres before finding a picnic area to pitch the tents.
21
April - Riva - Şile – 51 kilometres
We
got going around 11 a.m. and again found the way to Şile extremely hilly.
Esther freewheeled down the hills and walked her bike up the other side, and I imagined
the heat a tad severe for a Scott straight from the frozen north. Still, Esther
loved every bit of it. What a legend!
22
April - Şile - Agva – 37 kilometres
Şile
was a mere 37 kilometres from Agva. We met two lady cyclists from Amsterdam
(Julie and Mayo) on their way to Beijing. We all pitched our tents close to the
beach that night, making it a pleasant evening.
23
April - Agva - Campsite – 67 kilometres
Together
the five of us set out through the gorgeous countryside. The weather was significantly
more suitable to Esther’s liking as it became slightly overcast, and we managed
67 kilometres. The evening was, yet again, a social affair.
24
April - Campsite - Unknown village – 81 kilometres
With
all the chatting while packing up, it turned out between 10 and 11 a.m. before
getting underway. Our route followed country lanes through farmlands and tiny settlements
until we were spat out at the coast.
At
each stop tea was offered; hence, there was no such thing as a quick stop. During
the tea-drinking process, we missed Julie and Mayo. The weather changed and turned
bitterly cold. Kudos to Esther who pedalled 81 kilometres to find a suitable
spot to hide from the wind.
25-26
April - Unknown village – Akcakoca – 18 kilometres
Still
cold, we rode the short distance into Akcakoca, where a room with a great Black
Sea view became home that night. Then, finally, we could shower and rinse our clothes.
That
night we went to a restaurant, where Esther settled the bill. In fact, she paid
for virtually everything since her arrival! Our clothes were still wet in the
morning, and we stayed put. Like nearly all places in Turkey, Akcakoca had an old
town that sported well-preserved traditional houses made of wood and bricks.
27
April - Akcakoca -
Eregli Camping – 55 kilometres
My
camera got wet and stopped working but miraculously sprang back to life. Hallelujah!
Against all the odds, we came upon a relatively flat stretch. Still, it didn’t
last long and immediately past Eregli, it started climbing sharply away from
the coast.
While
searching for a place to pitch the tents, we encountered a picnic area. In true
Esther style, she chatted with a family camping nearby. They promptly fed her grilled
chicken, salad, bread and tea. Later, the fog rolled in and a freezing night
was spent at the picnic area.
28
April - Eregli camping - Zonguldak – 34 kilometres
A
good descent, with fantastic vistas along the coast and mountains, led to
Zonguldak. Due to the short distance, Zonguldak was reached early. A
comfortable abode was sought as this was Esther’s final destination. From Zonguldak,
she planned on bussing to Istanbul to catch her return flight to the UK, and I couldn’t
believe how quickly her time had run out.
29
April - Zonguldak - Bartin – 67 kilometres
Esther’s
bus departed at 13h00, and we got her and her bicycle on the bus without any hic-ups.
Once we waved her goodbye, Ernest and I pedalled onwards towards Bartin.
The
route led via Filyos and an extremely hilly ride on a partly gravel path with
narrow hairpin bends and loads of trucks. Shorty beyond Filyos the way, mercifully,
levelled out as it approached the main road.
30
April - Bartin - Kurucasile – 75 kilometres
We
woke to a beautiful sunny morning and, as could be expected, encountered more
hills en route to Kurucasile. Nevertheless, we stuck to the shores of the Black
Sea, where we had lunch, and shortly beyond that, caught up with Julie and Mayo.
1
May – Kurucasile – Doganyurt - 87 kilometres
For
the next few days, the four of us cycled along the hilly coastal route, along
narrow roads with numerous hairpin bends. The going was dreadfully slow, and though
the way went up and down, the down always felt far shorter.
Following
many cups of tea, the four of us pitched our tents at a beach and then
proceeded to make a bonfire to keep warm. The fire wasn’t exclusively for heat,
as it also made for easy socialising.
2-3
May - Doganyurt - Abana - 74 kilometres
The
route between Doganyurt and Abana was another hilly but pleasant ride. Ernest
had a flat tyre and fixed the tube while the rest of us watched the dolphins.
In
the process, I learned one of the most intriguing facts about the Black Sea.
The Black Sea’s anoxic water is caused by a lack of movement between the upper
and lower water levels resulting in an absence of oxygen in the water. Marine
life can thus not survive at the lower level. Only the Black Sea’s oxygen-rich
surface waters can support aquatic life. Fascinating stuff.
With
all that talk about marine life, Julie and Mayo bought fresh fish at the market
in the small community of Abana. That evening, we made a fire on the beach, and
they cooked it while we watched and chatted.
4
May - Abana – Ayancik – 67 kilometres
We
must have gotten used to the hills, as the stretch from Abana to Ayancik didn’t
feel half as hilly as the previous days. The sun was out, and the scenery
sublime, with densely forested hills to the one side and the blue waters of the
Black Sea to the other. The road followed the coast for the best part of the
day. Not merely was the route scenic, but it came with less than 1000 metres of
climbing, thus a good day all in all.
At
Ayancik, we stopped to do our usual shopping and afterwards biked a further five
kilometres to where we pitched the tents on a small beach overlooking the Black
Sea. No sooner had we pitched the tents and we were presented with freshly
fried fish and salad.
4-5
May - Ayancik - Sinop – 55 kilometres
The
Black Sea was like a vast lake, not a wave in sight, as the four of us packed
our bicycles and proceeded to Sinop. The route was less hilly than the previous
days, and the rain encountered made me look forward to getting the ride over
and done with.
Finally,
Sinop was reached, frozen and soaked to the bone. A warm room and shower, the
first in days, was an absolute pleasure, after which we set out to the nearest
restaurant. From Sinop, Mayo and July took the bus further along the coast to
Trabzon, as they had to enter Iran by a specific date and were running out of
time. Ernest and I decided to stay in Sinop an extra day to do the usual rest-day
housekeeping.
Being
situated at the extreme northern point of the Black Sea’s Turkish side, Sinop was
always vulnerable to attacks from across the water. The half-moon Pasha Bastion
was constructed during the Crimean War in 1853 to protect the city against such
attacks. Much older was the Sinop Fortress dating to the 8th century
BC. Turkey’s history never failed to amaze me!
6
May – Sinop - Bafra – 115 kilometres
The
last thing I felt like doing was emerging from my cosy room and getting on the
bike, as outside the weather remained overcast and icy. However, the wind was
in our favour, and the hills were not as fierce as the previous days. So, we used
the favourable conditions and kept going until Bafra where tenting was in a friendly
farmer’s yard. That night Ernest cooked pasta with soy mince smothered in mayonnaise,
a favourite at the time.
7
May - Bafra - Terme (via Samsun) - 125 kilometres
To
our dismay, the wind direction swung a full 180 degrees during the night. Luckily,
the day consisted mostly of flat riding of which good use was made. A Carrefour
supermarket in Samsun made for stocking up on all items needed. As the day drew
to a close, we pitched the tents in a picnic area under well-established pine
trees, as always, along the shores of the amazing Black Sea.
There
are many fantastic facts about the Black Sea. One is that the water level
remains unchanged due to the lack of high or low tides. This lack of movement
has brought about many unique features, including a high level of minerals and
salt, making nearly all objects float.
8
May - Terme - Bulancak – 133 kilometres
A
new road provided a wide shoulder and therefore easy riding, complete with tunnels,
cutting out major climbs. We flew along with a tailwind, right past the ancient
cave tombs of Ünye, believed to date between 7000 and 5000 BC. So pleased were
we with the favourable conditions, we didn’t even stop to explore.
Enjoying
every minute, we proceeded until reaching a suitable grassy patch to pitch the
tents. As the spot was next to a restaurant, tea appeared in no time. It soon
started spitting, and we turned in early.
9
May - Bulancak - Trabzon – 161 kilometres
We
emerged to a drizzle, a drizzle that continued throughout the day. Understandably
worried about our visas, which had expired almost three weeks earlier, we pedalled
as fast as possible and pushed on towards historical Trabzon.
Arriving
cold and drenched to the bone, a room off Atatürk Square made it a great place
to have a warm shower and to wash the day’s drizzle-fuelled grime off my weary
body.
10
May - Trabzon
Following
534 kilometres in four days, I called a rest day, as I wasn’t doing the Tour de
France.
Trabzon
was ideal for taking a break as the town sported a few attractions. It had
dozens of mosques and churches, all dating to the Byzantine and Ottoman Empires.
We even located parts of the old city walls which were still intact. I ate the
last of the salty liquorice the Dutch girls gave me. I love the stuff and was
surprised it lasted that long. But then again, I jealously guarded it and never
offered Ernest any.
11
May - Trabzon - Pazar – 122 kilometres
On
another cold and cloudy day, we pedalled out of Trabzon. Still, along the new highway,
the unlit and pitch-dark tunnels made for hair-raising cycling.
Upon
reaching Pazar, we, as usual, stocked up with foodstuff prior to pedalling a
few more kilometres before camping. As luck would have it, a small harbour appeared
suitable for pitching our tents between the boat sheds. No sooner had we done
so and balik (fish) arrived, compliments of the ever-friendly Turks.
Soon afterwards, an invitation to tea was extended. We were served tea and borek
(a pastry filled with various ingredients and sprinkled with sesame seeds) accompanied
by a fresh salad. We feasted upon these regional delicacies, making cooking
unnecessary.
12
May – Pazar, Turkey – Batumi, Georgia – 72 kilometres
D-day
arrived, and in great anticipation we packed up and biked to the immigration
office. At least the weather was in our favour as the day became sunny and
clear. But, first, two obstacles awaited: getting out of Turkey with our
expired visas and then praying we could purchase a Georgian visa at the border.
Again, images of being stuck in no man’s land worried me.
We
slinked into the Turkish border, and in true Turkish style, were offered a seat
and a cup of tea while our dilemma was discussed. The helpful border officials
pointed out we had overstayed our visa by 23 days and were given two options.
We could either pay 300 lire and be allowed into Turkey after three months or
pay 81 lire and be banned for five years. Considering our finances, we opted
for the latter. The whole process was considerably easier than expected, and I
will always love the Turkish for that.
Relieved,
we set off to the Georgian immigration, where we discovered one could indeed
purchase a visa on arrival. Phew,
the visa gods were indeed good to us! I almost kissed the ground!
We couldn’t believe our luck and were all
smiles biking the 15 kilometres into Batumi, our first town in Georgia, via a
highly scenic stretch of the Black Sea. I drew a few Georgian lari in Batumi
and celebrated by taking a room.
