May 31, 2013

Distance: 22.9 miles        Climbing: 1154.9 ft

Amongst the cherry trees, we couldn’t tell if it was windy or not. We were hoping the fierce headwind we encountered yesterday would have died down. We ate our standard breakfast at this point, fried potatoes with scrambled eggs, cooked over our MSR Dragonfly stove, which runs on a number of fuels including gasoline. We filled up our liter bottle of 100 octane gas a few days before and have had no problems at all with the stove. It burns the gas really hot and doesn’t leave any soot on the cookware. We have been working out a technique to drain the gas from the fuel line, so when we disconnect it we don’t end up wasting gas and getting it everywhere. So long as we elevate the bottle the residual gasoline in the fuel line, it drains to the stove and burns off, making for a clean pack up. After we cooked and loaded up camp we rolled back down the asphalt. To our disappointment, the wind was there to greet us.

Fields of gold

We encountered a number of hills, but didn’t pay much attention to them. We have been loving Turkey so much that things have not been bugging us as much as it would have in Asia. I assume it is because we are much better fed here. When Chandler asked if I wanted to get off the highway and take back roads into the next town, even though that meant a big hill, I said no problem.

Another hill on the horizon

Chandler wasn’t too far ahead of me when I noticed he had stopped. He was getting the camera out and staring at the middle of the road when I pulled up. There was a little turtle trying to make his way across the road before a car came by and smashed him. Naturally, we had to rescue him. Poor turtle was not so keen on the idea, because he immediately pulled himself into his shell and didn’t come out even after moved to safety.

Turtle

After saving the turtle, the rest of our ride into town was very uneventful. We picked up groceries for the next couple of days and then went in search of the campground in the center of town. Turns out the GPS was a little wrong and the campground was nowhere to be found and we were in a busy part of the city of Canakkale. We headed to the coast to find another campground listed on the GPS. We are relying pretty heavily on the Garmin maps for Europe. There is internet around, but it isn’t as easy to find as on the road in the US, and since we are free camping, we either need to research a lot before we get to a region, or wing it. We tend to wing it. It was no big surprise when the campground we were riding to wasn’t actually there.

We spent t a few minutes regrouping at a picnic area on the west side of the city, figuring out what we wanted to do. Without internet and very far from the tourist office, we decided to just keep biking out of town along the coast and hoped something would present itself. As we were getting into our stride, we noticed a campground, not on our GPS. The campground was right on the beach, and there were only a few caravans parked in it, so there was tons of space. Chandler talked to the owners’ son and found out it was only 10 Euros to camp there, so we decided to stay.

As Chandler was paying, I noticed three boys loitering around the beach, looking like they were going swimming. I said hello as they walked past me and asked if they had been swimming. Their only response was: “No, Danger, Danger!” I said goodbye and continued on to the beach and finally realized what the kids had been talking about. The beach was littered with jellyfish and the water was thick with them. No way was I swimming.

Jellyfish

We enjoyed the beach, sipping on some beers in the lounge chairs, watching dolphins in the Dardanelles, feeling in quite the Club Med mode, when some younger boys rode up on bikes. They stripped down to their skivvies and walked into the water. Chandler and I were really confused at this point. Eventually the boys came over and asked us a few questions they knew in English. The conversation turned to swimming and then Chandler asking about the danger of the jellyfish in the water. To answer his question, one of the boys picked one of the blobs and threw it at his friend. Apparently, the jellyfish were not the stinging kind and a jelly battle ensued.

Surfer

Despite the fact that the jellyfish were harmless, the water was a bit cold and the beach was rocky so we took the weenie route and opted to not swim. We set up the hammock and I read for a while. Chandler went and helped some older ladies assemble a giant metal frame for a canopy tent, after their initial attempts appeared to be something out of a Laurel and Hardy movie. We cooked up a nice meal and slept to the sound of the gentle surf breaking on the beach. Another wonderful day in Turkey.

May 30, 2013

Distance: 30 miles            Climbing: 1827.4 ft

The highway we have been traveling on is a cyclist’s dream. Smooth pavement, ample shoulder and courteous drivers. Construction areas are the best. The road is blocked for a kilometer before and after where the work is being done. That means we pretty much have the road to ourselves for stretches at a time.

The 34,728th wave since in Turkey

We spent the morning cruising along at a good speed, talking about living in Turkey. There were a few really nice old houses and cottages for sale along the way set in picturesque cherry orchards overlooking the Marmara. We would have a place on the beach and spend our days swimming and eating olives, cheese and bread. It was a wonderful daydream.

Scenic minaret

Suddenly, we turned a corner and were up against a mighty headwind and our paced dropped by half.  The wind was so strong, I could no longer feel the heat or notice the hills. We had to stop several times to rest or snack and curse. It’s hard going against the wind, which always makes us sing a certain song.

A windy picnic

We still had 20 miles until Canakkale, but at our current speed it would take us another 4 hours. Chandler noticed a dirt path leading up into a wheat field and decided to check it out. He came back a few minutes later declaring he found us a spot. We waited until there was no traffic and then pushed our bikes up the path, which ended up being a service road for a cellphone tower. We rolled our bikes through the field and into a grove of trees. We were at the edge of a farm and cherry orchard with people working the land down at the bottom of the slope.

We set up the hammock and got out our stools for reading until it got dark when we could set up the tent. Chandler had no problems, but I got really paranoid of people finding us. There was no reason why anyone would see us, but I was nervous about making the farmers angry. Chandler tried to alleviate my anxiety by pointing out that we weren’t damaging anything and were just camping on grass and weeds, not crops, so even if they did find us, they probably would let us stay. We relaxed for a few hours, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were going to get into trouble.

Hummingbird Moth

As the sun was setting, I convinced Chandler to move our camp into the next field, where nobody was working. We were a little more exposed, but we were also surrounded by cherry trees! We had a glimpse of the sea through the straight rows of the trees. After our usual dinner of pasta, cheese and tomatoes we might have sampled a few cherries for dessert.

Cherries

Nighttime among the cherry trees

May 29, 2013

Distance: 33.6 miles    Climbing: 1358.3 ft

We woke up late today despite being a little pooled at the end of the tent due to our campsite’s incline. We fried some potatoes and made some eggs we had picked up the day before. After breakfast we packed up pretty quick and got on the road. The highway veered away from the coast here, and despite some creative routing attempts it looked like we were going to be funneled into the town Biga whether we wanted to or not.

As we cruised in we saw a sign for a “Kipa” which appeared to be a big supermarket. We parked our bikes outside, but as I was heading towards the door I noticed steady stream of people walking up the street carrying large plastic bags filled with vegetables and roller suitcase looking things. I realized that it was Wednesday, which is one of the market days in Turkey. I walked upstream of the grocery toting folks and stepped into a massive warehouse, with scores of people selling produce and clothing. It had some similarities to the large covered markets I’d wandered though in Asia, but the most remarkable thing here was that the floors were spotless! No river of blood, fish gut water and who knows what else to wade through! Although the stalls were packed with vegetables like eggplant, potatoes, cucumbers, peppers, olives, onions, garlic and fruits like cherries, tomatoes, strawberries, peaches  and apricots, the place was neat and clean. I stocked up on fruits and vegetables, olives and some cheese, both peynir and some stuff that was like mozzarella string cheese, very fresh but salty and full tasting.

Staples are very cheap in Turkey. A loaf of very good bread similar to a baguette costs a Lira, which is around $0.55. Fruits are generally around $1-2 a pound, vegetables around $1, though potatoes are more like $0.20 a pound. Cheese runs from 10 to 20 Lira a kilogram which works out to $2.50-$5 or so a pound. The more expensive cheeses have more complex flavors almost like a subtle blue cheese, but they are all soft, kind of like Greek Feta. Olives, we haven’t quite figured out- there are tons of options and big ranges in prices, all still dirt cheap, around $1-5 a pound. We usually stick to the big pitted green ones, although the black shriveled ones with the pits in have a wild flavor that has hints of alcohol, so maybe they are partially fermented?

After my shopping spree we had a leisurely lunch of bread, cheese, tomato and olive oil sitting on the fence of a mosque. Lots of people seemed interested in us, and a few tried to chat, but the language barrier once again limited the depth of the conversation to where we were from and where we were going. Refueled, we headed west, and back towards the coast.

Attempting to stage a photo

It was HOT. We really need to start getting up earlier and get miles in so we can just rest from 1-4 PM or so. We passed by one end of a traffic police speed trap in a construction zone and when I got to the top of the next hill I stopped in the shade of a lone tree next to the other end of the speed trap: two bored looking officers sitting on a bench next to their car. While I waited for Jenny, they motioned that I should come over and take a break. When Jenny reached us, she was really ready for a break so we sat in the shade eating white berries out of the tree. They ended up knowing enough English for us to hold a decent conversation and we received a detailed Turkish language lesson, which turned out to be pretty useful. Over the 45 minutes or so we sat chatting, they had to stop and pull over some speeding truckers, which involved the younger officer standing in the middle of the highway waving the offender onto the shoulder. The driver would get out and walk back to the cops who would then write him a ticket. After they were done, the older officer showed us his book of tickets saying, “80 limit, 82 OK, 83 problem” he shook his head and pointed to the fine on the ticket: 166 Turkish Lira, which is over $90, “expensive problem”. They took a few pictures with us and then we got up to ride. As we parted with the older office said to us, as if it were a very important piece of information “we are the best police officers in Turkey”, I responded “Number one police officers” which they seemed to like the fit of and got a huge kick out of as they repeated it.

#1 police in Turkey

On we rode. We were feeling pretty good despite the heat and not riding for almost 2 months, but we were still adjusting to our new riding style. In Asia we always had a daily destination, a town or city we thought we could get to and find a place to stay. From now on it will be kind of the opposite, where we seek out the areas between the towns and cities where we can either find a campground or a free place to pitch our tent.

We didn’t really have a destination in mind today and when we saw a small cleared area next to a creek along the road we u-turned to check it out. At first, we thought there had been a wedding recently, stacks of plastic chairs and tables were scattered around the shaded clearing. I spotted a farmer and asked him if we could put up our tent in the clearing. He quickly understood what I was pantomiming and showed us a nice spot next to a table and pointed out where there was some water. As we were setting up the tent a bunch of local people in a tractor came by to pick up some of the chairs, the leader of the group came over for a chat, which as usual, didn’t amount to much, but we were able to understand that the celebration had been for a funeral, not a wedding as he made gestures to the cemetery across the street, while profusely gesturing it was OK that we were camping there. They packed up and left us to ourselves.

Hungry sheep

Rainbow beetle

Caterpillar

A little after dark as we were watching Gallipoli on the laptop, two boys on bicycles rode up. One of the primary objectives when searching for a campsite is to find one where the local youth will not find you, as we have found they can range from annoyingly inquisitive, to hostile and unpredictable. These boys were about 10 years old and ran through the English questions they knew. They rode their bikes around and came back to chat some more. We said, “Ok we’re going to sleep now” and they looked surprised and said apologetically, “Oh, ok, sleep!” and politely “Good night!” before riding off. We felt bad for having been so presumptive about the kids here- in our experience they have been as rambunctiously curious as in other countries, but very well mannered.

May 28, 2013

Biking Distance: 30 miles      Climbing: 1958.7 feet

With fairly expensive ferry tickets in hand, we were motivated to finally escape the gravitational draw to hang out a few more days in Istanbul. It wasn’t a particularly cheap place to while away time, at least by our standards, but it was a calm, beautiful city with lots of nice people and interesting things to do. We were sad to leave, but excited to see more of the country.

At 5 am, we hopped on our loaded bikes for the first time since we took off from Weishan to Dali what seemed like an eternity ago. It felt good to be back to riding, and we cruised quietly along the coastal contour of the European side of the Bosporus to the ferry terminal.

The day before we spied a McDonalds at the ferry complex so we were both dreaming of greasy hash browns and egg sandwich things on our ride over. We are both big time breakfast people and the prospect of a cheap greasy carboload to fuel our riding later in the day was tantalizing. When we drew up to the entrance and saw chairs stacked on the tables and the lights out, I went into a quiet and irrational tirade about the poor work ethic of Turkish McDonald’s workers, and slunk into a low mental place. The only other option was Café Nero, which looked a bit swank for our grubby selves. It was pricey, a small Americano was 3 euros, and small meant that the barista dumped the second half of the shot down the sink and filled the cup to the brim with water. Stunned, and with even lower morale I feebly coughed up what in Asia was half of our entire daily food budget for two coffee flavored waters and a small round pretzel looking thing that was not a pretzel. I thus declared this the “worst coffee of the entire trip”, Nescafe made with fishy tasting water included.

Boarding the ferry

We were loaded up on the ferry without much trouble, taped the brake levers down so the bikes wouldn’t roll and fall over during the ride then headed up to the passenger deck. It was the nicest ferry either of us had ever been on, with assigned padded seats at small communal tables, a really nice and expensive cafeteria, flat screen TVs playing things we couldn’t understand. We snoozed for most of the 2 hours to Bandirma. We expected that the terminal on the other side would be in a city and we could grab breakfast, but we were actually just in a very small town north of the main city center. We popped into a grocer for some water, pasta, tomatoes and to the bakery next store for a loaf of bread. As we were loading our food up, the young man working at the bakery beckoned for me to come back over and he handed me two pastries which were like scones with raisins in them. Breakfast problem solved!

We started riding through the back roads of the town, but they eventually devolved into gravel which was a pain to ride on, so we steered onto the main highway. The traffic was surprising light, but there was a ton of honking. This time it wasn’t annoying though, it was all the truckers in the other lane trying to get our attention so we could return their waves. We were in good spirits and banged out a few miles but it was really hot and we were not used to cycling in the heat, so we decided to take a break. We set up our hammock on two shrubs overhanging the drainage ditch on the side of the road and took turns in it while reading in the slight shade of the two shrubberies.

Practically empty road

Hammock time

After our siesta we rode along for a little while longer until Jenny’s bike started making a really awful clicking noise. Upon closer inspection we realized that at the end of each of our chains we had lost the disc-shaped roller pieces that sit inside the chain links and allow the chain to roll smoothly over the cogs on our gears. They probably accidentally fell out when we were cleaning them in China. What should have been a simple fix ended up taking a while as it was really hot and we were out in the open and our chain tool isn’t the best. Then a guy on a motorbike stopped by to help (he was a farmer and the way he handled the chain indicated he actually knew what he was doing), but we kept dropping the tiny pieces in the dirt on the shoulder and we were foolishly trying to do this without unloading the bike. Finally, we got it back together. We repeated the process, although somewhat abbreviated the second time around, on my bike then headed off with slightly too short chains, oh well.

Helping hand

We started scoping out a place to camp and ended up in a small village on the coast. It had a nice beach that would have worked, but it was out in the open and a small group of kids were following us around on their bikes. Upon further inspection, we saw a bloated beached dolphin on the shore of our maybe campsite and decided it was an omen that we should keep searching. We put our faith in the GPS and meandered through a tangle of irrigation roads along what appeared to be wet rice fields which we thought was odd.

Rice fields

As we were about to pop back on the highway I saw a small overgrown side road and followed it down to the river bank. There was a small flat clearing where an old pumphouse had once stood. It was also overgrown with stinging nettles and these white cottony tufts which induced sneezing. It was not ideal, but it was out of sight, flattish and well those are the two best adjectives I can think of. After a maniacal revenge attack on the stinging nettles we had a nice spot to cook and sleep. We whipped up some pasta with tomatoes and cheese and passed out as it got dark.

May 22 – 27, 2013

Our plane landed in Istanbul around midnight. We found our way to the visa stall purchased a stamp without even a glance at our passports and headed into the labyrinth of people waiting to get stamped through customs. Next, we headed to the baggage carousel to wait for our giant boxes. As the crowd slowly trickled away, we got a little worried when nothing arrived for us. Chandler went off and talked to the baggage people and found out that our boxes were still in Paris. The baggage contractor would deliver them to our hostel when they got in the next night.

This was actually a small blessing, instead of searching for a taxi big enough to handle our bike boxes (the taxis were all tiny) we jumped on the cheap shuttle bus with one of our panniers each as our hand baggage.

The bus dropped us off around 1 am at the bustling Taksim Square, (sound familiar?) and from there walked a few blocks to our hostel. Luckily, they were cool with us arriving so late at night. We were shown to a room with 4 bunk beds, given beds and immediately went to sleep. Chandler woke me up the next morning with just enough time to scramble up to the terrace for the free breakfast. Breakfast included a slice of cheese, a few tomatoes and cucumbers, an assortment of olives, a hard-boiled egg and baguette slices. This was served every morning and we didn’t get the slightest bit tired of it.

We actually discovered we were in another food heaven. Now that we are in Europe, our budget doesn’t cover dining out, so we are cooking for ourselves. Our meals have consisted of mainly pastas with tomatoes, garlic, olives and soft Turkish cheese, called peynir. We are going to have no problem eating well while in the Mediterranean.

Our first day was spent wandering around with Jimmy, an Australian 737 pilot we met at the hostel. We walked to the Grand Bazaar and then tried to find the Cistern before running into another cyclist. K-Pete cycled from Germany and was doing a pass through Turkey before heading to Greece and back up to Germany in the next few days. Our larger group went to lunch, so the boys could get some kebap sandwiches and I had a potato cheese bread thing. Next we headed to the Blue Mosque. This was the first mosque we had entered and the entire building was incredible. Stained glass, patterned tiles and big vaulted ceilings, this was definitely a place to inspire worship.

Lovely lanterns

Blue Mosque

Stained glass

Tiled ceilings

The next day we spent waiting around the hostel for our bike boxes to be delivered. We found out through a series of confusing messages from our hostel owner that they had been held up in customs for some reason, so we had to go get them. In the morning, Chandler took the metro to the airport, and had to change lines twice so it ended up being almost the same price as the direct shuttle bus. He was let back into the secure side and then dealt with the paperwork required to release the bikes. Next, they sent him to customs to sort out the problem, they motioned for him to put the boxes through the X-ray which he did and they waved him on. The baggage guy pointed to the exit, but Chan was a little ticked off that he had to come all the way back out to the airport for apparently no reason and now they wanted him to take the bags himself, which would involve hiring a large taxi. After a few back and fourths, and a supervisor later, they finally agreed to deliver the bags to the hostel as they had said they would the night before.

We got the bikes to the hostel and spent the remainder of the day reassembling them, going on a test ride through town and getting replacement parts. On our ride home we saw a large group of protestors in Taksim Square, but we couldn’t understand what their signs said and wandered back to the hostel.

Once business was taken care of, we were able to focus on possible routes and more sightseeing. We decided on spending one more day in town then jumping on the morning ferry to Bandirma, across the Marmara Sea. While we were working there was some shouting on the streets and then a bang. Our eyes started to water a little bit and there was a chemically smell in the air. The hostel manager came in and closed all the windows. I looked out the window and saw a man walk out of his shop and quickly put his hands to his eyes. Apparently, the police were dispersing some protestors with teargas in our area. I asked the manager what they were protesting and he replied “who knows this time!”

We didn’t really think much of it and took the afternoon to explore the Basilica Cistern, trying to mail a package home, getting free samples of tasty cheese and walking narrow streets as we looked for the ferry. Chandler had read that the cistern was a civil engineer’s dream, and although it was a pretty cool example of some very old civil works, most of the emphasis was on the beauty of the lit columns above the shallow water and some carved Medusa heads, with basically nothing describing how the cistern was used from a functional standpoint. It wasn’t really disappointing, but it wasn’t my engineer’s dream.

Galata Tower

Inside the cistern

Medusa doing a headstand

We spent our last night socializing at the hostel and packing up the last of our things. We had a 5am alarm set to ensure we had enough time to get breakfast and to ride to the ferry on time.