Tea, Hills, History, and Temperatures Designed to Kill Cyclists
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| Photo by Ed Carter |
7 TURKEY (1)
881 Km – 18 Days
27 August – 13 September 2007
FLIP-BOOK
Prelude
By the time
Turkey loomed ahead, I had acquired experience, tan lines, and a growing
suspicion that maps were merely suggestions. Turkey promised history,
hospitality, and hills—lots of hills—and I arrived prepared for culture,
cuisine, and the possibility that my bicycle might choose this moment to
revolt. I still believed I was in control of the journey. Turkey was about to
clarify matters.
27 August – Bulgarian Border to Kirklareli
(50 kilometres)
I have slept in some unusual places,
but never in a hospital. Before leaving, I checked that all my organs were still
present and accounted for.
We crossed into Turkey in sweltering
heat. Eddie’s bicycle rim was cracked, so we headed to the nearest town and
bike shop. The Turkish people were exceptionally kind, offering tea,
watermelon, and coffee while we waited. The rim repair took longer than
expected, and by the time it was done, it was raining. We stayed the night.
Kirklareli, our first Turkish town,
turned out to be one of the earliest settlements in Europe. Turkey was already
showing off.
28 August – Kirklareli to Safalan (96
kilometres)
Turkey is not flat. I learned this
quickly. We spent the day cycling up and down hills toward Istanbul. We ended
the day at a picnic area with a restaurant and restrooms — luxury, by our
standards.
29–31 August - Safalan to Istanbul (137
kilometres)
We packed up early for the long ride
to Istanbul. Cycling into Istanbul during peak traffic was like entering a
video game set to “expert mode.” None of the campsites on the map existed
anymore, so by 21h00 we gave up and found alternative accommodation. At least I
saw the Mediterranean for the first time.
The next morning, we found a
backpacker hostel near the Blue Mosque. The only available beds were on the
roof, arranged so closely together that it resembled a giant sleepover for
strangers. Naturally, the Baltic Cycle Group was there.
We explored Istanbul’s markets,
mosques, and the Bosporus, where hopeful fishermen cast lines between
continents.
Eddie headed home, and I joined the
Baltic cyclists, who were going my way.
1 September – Istanbul to Bodrum (By
Ferry)
Sleeping on the roof was impossible,
so I went to the harbour early to buy a ferry ticket to Bodrum. The ferry had a
pool, gym, and restaurants — a floating resort compared to my usual standards.
I lounged by the pool all day, had a beer at sunset, and stayed up late
watching the night sky.
2 September – Bodrum to Datca (by
boat)
More swimming, more lounging. We
reached Bodrum at 15h00 and boarded a ferry to Datca, arriving at 19h00. We
camped on an open lot near the harbour, conveniently close to a shop selling
beer and snacks. Priorities.
3 September – Datca to Marmaris (70
kilometres)
The coastal road to Marmaris was
stunning, hilly, and hot. We stopped for breakfast and a swim. Turkish
breakfast — bread, cheese, tomatoes, cucumber, olives, and ayran — became my
new favourite thing.
Marmaris had little historical charm
left after a 1957 earthquake, but the campsite was right on the beach. Watching
the sunset with a cold beer, I felt life had peaked.
4 September – Marmaris to Mugla (54
kilometres)
The temperature hit 46°C. We crawled
over mountains like wilted plants. In Ula, I got a haircut using only gestures.
The result was… interpretive.
We met Burent, a friendly cyclist who
guided us through Mugla’s old town. We camped at the public swimming pool — a
first — with plenty of showers and a lovely lawn.
5 September – Mugla to Koycegiz to Dalyan
(75 kilometres)
Burent led us out of town at 8h00. We
reached Koycegiz early enough to take a boat to Dalyan and Turtle Beach. No
turtles, but plenty of beauty. The Caunos tombs carved into cliffs were
spectacular.
We camped in Dalyan and drank wine on
a timber deck. Bliss.
6 September – Dalyan to Fethiye
(Oludeniz) (75 kilometres)
Baltic Cycles was a fun group. During
the day, everyone did their own thing. Bob from Scotland and Saline from New
Zealand were the easiest to talk to. Ella from Poland communicated via gestures
and a dictionary.
We stopped often for Gozleme — Turkish
pancakes filled with deliciousness. The Turquoise Coast lived up to its name.
7 September – Fethiye to Patara
The Turkish were so hospitable that
after a few vodkas, we decided to test how easy it was to hitchhike. Bob and I
teamed up and immediately got a ride. Most drivers steered with one hand while
the other held a phone or dangled out the window. I tried not to think about
it.
8 September – Kas – Olympus – 90
kilometres
The route was mountainous but
gorgeous. Swimming spots were everywhere. Turkey continued to impress with its
history, scenery, and food.
Olympus was full of ancient ruins and
modern hippies. The beach was stunning, and the mountains dramatic.
9 September – Olympus
We relaxed on cushions and the beach.
At sunset, we hiked to see the eternal flames burning from vents in the
hillside — natural gas fires that have been burning for 2,500 years. Mother
Nature showing off again.
10 September – Olympus to Antalya (90 kilometres)
Antalya, founded in 200 BC, was full
of Roman ruins. Hadrian’s Gate and the Hıdırlık Tower were highlights. Turkey
was becoming a crash course in ancient civilisations.
11–12 September – Antalya to Side (74
kilometres)
We followed the coast to Side, famous
for beaches and Roman ruins. The 2nd‑century theatre seated 15,000 people. We
admired it briefly before deciding we were “ruined out” and spent the rest of
the time doing nothing.
13 September – Side to Alanya Ferry to
Girne, Cyprus
After a classic Turkish breakfast, we
cycled to Alanya and boarded a ferry to Cyprus. I parted ways with the Baltic
cyclists, who headed to the Greek side. Since getting a Greek visa was nearly
impossible, I stayed on the Turkish side.
Turkey fed
me like family, humbled me like a mountain range, and then casually set the
thermostat to “crispy.”
