It's 3 am, I wake up to I hear the Muezzin call; the last chance to eat... in one hour or so the sun will rise and another day of fasting will begin; 17 hours of not eating, drinking (or smoking, for some the most difficult part). My hosts for this night are still awake, I heard them walking around whole night. It seems their day and night pattern has alternated, resting during daytime and becoming alive at night. Not the best circumstances for me to get good rest, with lights and television full on. But hey, I can't complain, I have a place to sleep and those people are so friendly! Not able to really talk, but anyway they share their sober Iftar (Ramazan dinner) with me. I am surprised actually, when the sun has set and it's time to eat, they don't prey or anything, no they attack their food and finish it quickly. No rituals, nothing..
My previous story was titled 'Bye bye Asia', but somehow I did not yet want to miss the atmosphere of this part of the world. I didn't feel ready to enter Europe, it felt like going 'homeward'. So from Istanbul I headed in southern direction, instead of going West as I had planned initially. I layed out my route by the advices of local cyclists, except for the touristic must-sees which I wisely skipped, knowing that I wouldnt enjoy those too crowded places which lack in identity and have become fake Disneylands (Effesus, Sirince, Bodrum, Marmaris, Kaş). The longer I kept on going, the further I headed from Europe. If I kept on going like this, I might even end up in China again..
And those people all adviced me to cycle along the coast. And they were right! Magnificent views of crystal clear blue watered small bays shielded by limestone cliffs. Wow, this felt like holiday :)
But those views were not for free, I had to work hard for this beauty... a continuous up and down, up and down.. and no, not gradually but as steep as possible... Somehow, they only seemed to have 10% signs, but Im sure sometimes it was steeper.
And as if it was not hard enough yet, the heat and consequential melted tarmac gave even some extra challenge. It sucked me, slowing me down, giving the feeling of driving with a flat tyre. I really don't understand why in a country this warm, they have tarmac that melts.. I haven't seen this before, not in any of those tropical, hot countries.. And the solution they found for this problem is not so much better.. big gravels sticked to the (melted) tarmac, which when worn makes you bump up and down the road.
But anyway, it was worth this price.
Where in China I had been longing for some easy and relaxing countries, feeling that my tough energy had drained, now I caught myself longing for some adventure. Turkey was exactly what I had hoped for; easy country, friendly and hospitable people. But was it too easy? Even the toilets were so clean...
And every time I asked whether I could pitch my tent in a garden, I was invited in, given a comfortable bed or couch and dinner, tea, breakfast... The people are so extremely friendly!!
Of the 2,5 months I've been in Turkey, I have only paid twice for the night. And this where exactly the (only) two times I stayed at a campground.
Turkey surprised me in several aspects; I had expected the country to be pretty Islamic and thought that cycling here during Ramazan would be pretty hard. But both expectations were wrong. The first weeks, along the West coast, I merely met non-religious Turks. The only two guys I met doing Ramazan where Dutch Turks, who moved here (of whom one offered me some real Dutch food (rookworst and AH ranja) sent to Turkey by his mother in Holland, because he missed it so much...).
However, when I left the coast at Antalya and headed inland, I arrived in the Turkey of my previous expectations; the 'Kuran Belt' (as the Lonely Planet described it). All of a sudden the women were scarfed from head to toe, the cafés were filled only with men, some villages were deserted because of Ramazan and I felt very watched upon. I thought wearing long sleeves and a Buff to cover my hair would lessen the amount of attention, but unfortunately... Every second car (and all trucks) blew their horn, windows of passing cars were opened to yell something (few times I heard something resembling 'sex'..), and I felt like being undressed by all the staring eyes. Needless to say I didn't really feel comfortable in this conservative part of the country. The bad thing for me about those experiences was, although they were not really harmfull in itself, they made me loose trust in the men. I switched from my normally friendly and open mentality to my 'survival mode' in which I just ignored all remarks, didn't answer any Merhaba's but was silent and looked grim. But I don't like this mode, this way of travelling. Although maybe safer (??), it's also way less enjoyable, since I miss all the friendly remarks and nice little conversations as well.
So there I regained my adventure, but did I enjoy it so much??
So there I regained my adventure, but did I enjoy it so much??
Luckily, after few days cycling trough this conservative area, I finally reached Cappadocia, and it felt like a warm bath. I met the right people and they gave me a home and friends. For three weeks, together with Hami, a MTB guide whose house became my home, I explored the extraordinary area, discovered hidden churches, run through tunnels and over Balconies, mountainbiked in strangely formed rock formations, hiked in valleys full of butterflies and flowers and most of all, enjoyed the company of those people around me. I was having a holiday from my trip :)
However, after 21 magical sunsets with the panorama of fairy chimneys, castles and table-top mountains, the time have come to continue my journey. I have decided I don't want to continue further East. Now my compass is really set West, with my next destination being Bulgaria.
