(Our version of) Turkish Hospitality

Jimi  and I spent hours deliberating about what to write in the blog and which bits of our Turkish life we could share. However Jimi’s mum has kindly solved our dilemma by writing this brilliant article, not for us, but for one of the Turkish national daily’s;  Today’s Zaman. We are posting her article as it has everything we wanted to say, but better she is with the English (what’s a noun again?). We will update again soon but for now this will more than suffice. Enjoy.

7 April 2013 /ALISON KENNY, Antalya

There’s a lot of chattering in my house at the moment and, although it’s all in my native tongue, I can barely understand a word.

I catch snippets of conversation emanating from serious-looking individuals, heads bowed intently over their work, bizarre-looking tools in hand. Sometimes similar sounds waft in my direction from the same somber heads, this time riveted to laptop screens or poring over maps and guidebooks. The conversations go something like this:

James: “Twenty-eight-inch wheels? But surely you can’t get any replacements for these over here?”

Alex: “Ah, maybe, but they roll for longer.”

James: “I thought all Thorns came with Rohloff hubs?”

Rose: “Only as an extra.”

Around the world on two wheels

And so on. It’s like a whole new language or a whole new world, and one that I will clearly never belong to, nor, to be truthful, do I wish to. These are the words of a new breed of travelers known as “cycle tourists.” Until two of my children became suddenly and inexplicable obsessed with bikes — as children they had never shown more than a passing interest in their childhood bicycles — I had absolutely no idea just how many people were prepared to set off around the world on two wheels. I can fully understand the wish to travel to foreign parts and even the pleasure of being in the open air, but am still struggling to understand the attraction of pedaling uphill on a bike loaded with all your worldly goods, including the kitchen sink, with nothing but a bleak night in a tent to look forward to.

I also had no idea of just how many of these tourists pass through Antalya. It was, of course, no surprise when my son, his girlfriend and my eldest daughter turned up last October, all looking suitably sunburned and ridiculously fit after their 5,500 kilometer trip from the UK. They had warned me about their imminent arrival and, though I managed to be absent for the event, I have had plenty of time since then to hear all the gritty details of life on the road. For my daughter, the three months in the saddle were perhaps enough to abandon her bike in Antalya and hop on a plane to İstanbul to seek her fortune, or perhaps just to enjoy the comforts and contrast available in a big city. The other two have equally happily swapped their specially padded and balanced bike seats for the rather softer options of beds and our sofas for the winter months. They are now, however, beginning to get itchy pedal feet and busy plotting the next part of their round the world cycle tour.

 

Wild camps and warm showers

Like all moms, I like to think that my children are unique. But when it comes to cycle touring, quite clearly they are not — far from it. I now know from personal experience that there are many people from all parts of the globe who pack up their belongings into a few saddlebags (or is that panniers?) and set off around the world — because I’ve actually hosted them in my house.

Although operating on a tight budget and therefore camping (preferably “wild”) most nights, living off semi-cooked lentils and pasta, all the while huddled in four-season sleeping bags and watching out for rabid dogs, they occasionally need respite from their self-induced life of hardship. This is where we come in. My son and his girlfriend (James and Rose) cleverly joined the website, appropriately named, Warm Showers (www.warmshowers.org) before leaving the safety of their home in Manchester. Unlike its “rival” website, http://www.couchsurfing.com, Warm Showers is specifically aimed at those who understand bicycle banter and the needs of those who have traveled long distances in the saddle. Joining this website entitles the members to turn up and stay at the homes of other participants. Obviously, the deal involves the use of a bed (or sofa), preferably the chance for a hot wash and, if possible, the use of a washing machine rather than a quick rinse in a passing stream. During their time in Manchester, James and Rose hosted a couple of Koreans, a pair of Australians and a solitary Frenchman. In Manchester, they were able to treat these foreign guests to the delights of warm beer in British pubs, over-sized portions of greasy fish and chips and a guided tour round Manchester United’s football ground. What more could any self-respecting traveler hope for?

Turkish hospitality

During their journey here, they also made use of a few warm shower hosts en route in several European countries, interspersed between the many nights spent under canvas. When they reached Turkey, however, they found very little use for either tents or warm shower hospitality. For the majority of their nights, they were offered shelter and often food by locals in villages they passed through, such being the nature of Turks, particularly those living away from large towns. With their limited knowledge of Turkish, this gave a great opportunity to learn first-hand about the culture of this most hospitable of countries.

 

However, when they reached Antalya and had recovered sufficiently from their trip, they realized that although they might not be “on the road” they still had a burning desire to communicate in their newfound language — the arcane lingo of bicycle banter. Initially, they tried with us and a few of our cronies to inspire an interest in their stories, but nobody could make head or tail of their conversation. So they logged on to the Warm Showers website, updated their status to “living in Antalya,” and, within a few days, requests from itinerant cyclists began trickling in. Fortunately, it’s perfectly acceptable for participants to turn down a request if it’s inconvenient, so there’s no obligation to put up those three Finnish cycle fiends when half your relatives from the UK have just turned up for their annual holiday in the sun.

A different breed of traveler

We have, however, successfully hosted several of this breed of traveler. They may come from all parts of the world, but, no matter what their indigenous language, I’m glad to report that they all speak fluent bike banter and I am able to leave these folk to twitter away for hours about handlebars, spokes, lycra shorts with sewn-in nappies (that’s what they look like anyway), where to buy fuel for their state-of-the-art stoves in downtown Antalya and whether it’s possible to renew their Turkish visa by taking a detour into northern Iraq and re-entering from there.

To date, a very sweet Swiss couple, a lone girl from New Zealand, a charming 50-something-year-old guy from South Africa and a very vivacious German pair in their 20s have all made use of our facilities. Not only do these guests provide hours of entertainment for my son and girlfriend, they have also all made the most of having a kitchen and cooked delicious food for all of us. Their energy, enthusiasm and refreshing attitude to life are infectious. They defy the principles that my generation was brought up to uphold — the “must get a job, save money and settle down” philosophy. Instead, these people from assorted backgrounds may have saved money — but only in order to enable them to travel the world with their bikes in tow.

All seem to enjoy their stay here, spending much of their time sleeping and eating, but the rest of the time they can be found enjoying Antalya’s old town, swimming in the sea, testing out the best food spots and soaking up the good weather from the comfort of our garden. Most importantly they can — and do — indulge in endless hours of bicycle banter whilst busy mending punctures, truing spokes and greasing hubs.

Microadventure to Göynük Saddle

Microadventuring is an idea we heard about through a chap called Alistair Humphreys. It can take many forms but it encapsulates any 24- 48 hour trip that you start and finish at your front door and involves spending the night outdoors. With all these mountains in touching distance from Antalya we packed our rucksacks and set off.

Göynük, a small town 15 kms west, was our destination. The bus costs 5tl, leaves form Migros shopping mall and takes 30 minutes. We asked the driver to drop us on the east side of the river, the base of Göynük canyon, and the beginning of our hike.

There’s a twenty minute walk up a tarmac road through a cluster of Göynük houses that have crossed the river before reaching the entrance to the National Park where you must pay 5tl to go any further. We told the attendant that we would be walking out the other side of the park that day because we suspected he would not let us camp or make us pay for a guide (signs suggested this). In future we will cross the riverbed earlier to avoid this toll.

A further kilometre up the canyon path brings you to your first sight of the Lycian Way- identified by painted red and white lateral stripes. Follow these steeply to your left and you’re on the path to Göynük saddle; the high point for our microadventure. A three hour gentle to medium hike in the tree line and we were at our camp spot, a place called Alayapi’s grave, which has enough space for two small tents and is next to an old stone fortification built into the side of a rocky pinnacle.

It was a chilly night, we later learned it had been -8C; the coldest in 8 years. We gathered lots of wood before dusk and had a (safe) roaring fire. Dinner was a slight let down; we packed a tub of yoghurt instead of the veg curry we had in the other yoghurt tub! A somewhat shivery nights sleep has us on the lookout for some warmer sleeping bags in preparation for our 4000 m passes later in the year.

The next day after coffee and porridge we marched up to the promised saddle to behold the views of the Tunç. The Tunç is a snowy peaked mountain in north of the saddle which stands at 2700m. To south lay the Mediterranean. We took some photos and smugly remarked that we had the hills to ourselves.

30 minutes later whilst retracing our steps we stumbled into Adrian, a cheery bloke from Paris. Last year he walked from Istanbul to Norther Iraq via Iran. He’d just spent 8 months working in Antakya and was now walking his way back to France, some buses too he added! And we thought cycling was slow. We shared some biscuits and stories before parting. You never know who’s around the next deserted corner.

2 hours later and we were back in Goynuk town. Before heading back the city we couldn’t resist stopping at roadside lokanta for a rewarding feed. You can see the saddle over Rose’s head, if you can take your eyes off our feast that is.

Door to door in 32 hours. Total cost 50tl (£20). Puts a smile on your face. Microadventuring: give it a go!

 

 

A Surprisingly Pleasant End to an Unsurprisingly Good Year

The good year we expected. It was just your bog standard year, you know the type: loads of parties with friends, family gatherings, quitting of jobs and cycling 5000 kms to Asia. You know nothing special, no point saying anymore about that really.

New Year, although we were not expecting to have a bad time it turned out to be really rather special. We were due to celebrate it separately. (Can you see where this is going yet?) Rose had booked cheap flights back to the UK for Christmas and New Year to be with her family, particularly her beautifully pregnant younger sister. Whilst Jim was remaining at the coalface- those puncture repair kits won’t pay for themselves you know. I (Jim) arranged to go to Istanbul for 2 nights with my Mum and her Terry to visit sister Rhi (formerly of the Rosy and Jim TDW Cult) in her new Galata pad.

So whilst Rose was living it up in the good old North of England with our two best friends, Real Ale and Cheddar cheese, Jim was on a culinary tour of Istanbul with an Istanbulite (Rhi) and the author of A Rough Guide to Istanbul (Terry).

We started the day with a swish coffee in Cafe Konak, check this for a view (and no that isn’t Robert Redford- she gets that a lot)!Moved onto Tantuni for brunch. Tantuni is spicy beef fried and served in a durum wrap. Before moving on to baklava,  ice cream and tea in the afternoon.  We then watched the excellent Life of Pi in 3D which was fantastic. Then whilst the oldies went for a lie down, me and my sis went for a few swift beers at a English microbrewery that she knows of.

Feeling somewhat appropriately merry we made our way back across Istanbul managing to avoid the customary groping in Taksim square towards the meyhane, Gurme Boncuk, to meet the wise ones for our New Years Eve dinner.

After several bevvies and a one hour dash via 2 tubes our bladders were somewhat at capacity, so we dashed into the restaurant eager to find the toilets. As a result the scene that greeted us almost resulted in a very embarrassing accident.

Joining the oldies at the table was Rosy Pose and Little Jas, one of my all time  top 11 friends.  My slightly drunk and high on anti bladder release adrenalin brain was saying, “I know these faces but they don’t belong in this restaurant, who ordered them?”

After avoiding the afore-mentioned embarrassment I regained my composure and set about getting to the bottom of the mystery. I think I’ll let Rose take over from here….

I had just spent a lovely week back home, visiting the family, holding the babies: my niece Melissa, nephew Lewis and friends new addition Freya. I ate lots of lovely food, met up with almost all my friends and even had a turn at karaoke at the family christmas party! After a training visit to York to see Jemma Buxton was my next stop and the lead up to the most expensive night of our lives.

First I had a lovely tapas dinner with Izy and got to play kitchens with Lewis and generally love his new words and cuddles. I met Jas in the pub and we were catching up and chatting about new year and our respective plans. I said I was going to Ben and Cats in Manchester then get the plane to Antalya on New Years Day. Jas didn’t have much plannedl, just maybe go to someones house. I told him where Jimi was and their plans and then suddenly we shared a look across the table at exactly the same time, we both knew what the other was thinking…”what if we went to Istanbul to surprise Jimi?” The seed was planted!

8:37pm 30th December 2012.

Jas got to work on his super duper phone and looked up flights for the very next morning. As the evening wore on and I had a few more glasses of wine the idea seemed flawless and of course it was the only way we wanted to spend our New Year. Jason was driving so he cant even blame the alcohol for the rash decisions we made. We then got a call from Jonathan (Jimis dad) asking us to go to his for wine and cheese and a catch up. Off we went with the help of a few bottles of wine from Co-op and indulged in a midnight feast of cheese, scones, crackers, red wine. The idea was firmly planted by this point and with Jonathan saying, “Don’t be ridiculous, Istanbul in the morning! Ha that will never happen,” we were spurred on.

So at 3am Jas and I parted with Jas saying, “I’ll call you at 7am, look at flights and make a decision then.” ”Ok Jason, of course you will.”

7:03 am 31st December 2012

After 3 hours of drunken sleep…..Brrrriiiiing brriiiing brriiiiing! “WOW Jason you meant it then?” “I’ll be there in 30 minutes was the reply.”

8:07am 31st December 2012

Jason and Rose in a Nissan Micra driving to London Stansted, ticketless, hoping we could buy a plane  ticket from the airport and be in Istanbul in time for the new year celebrations and at the restaurant at 8pm to meet everyone…easy!

First problem of the day, Jason had no passport so we had to go via Doveridge (Staffordshire) to collect his passport a change of clothes and then off to London to catch the 14:10 flight to Istanbul we saw advertised. That means we have 3 hours to get to the airport,hoping there is no traffic, park, buy a plane ticket and get to the check in before it closes…easy!

9:32am 30th December 2012

The sat Nav said 2 hours 45 minutes that means we would be there at 12:15 if all went right, and there was no traffic. We arrived at London Stansted at 12:06, parked the car, the shuttle bus took us to the terminal and we were inside the airport by 12:15. “TICKET OFFICE CLOSED: read the sign in front of us… problem number 2.

We went to the Atlas Jet desk and politely inquired if we could buy a ticket for the Istanbul plane leaving in 2 hours. ” The ticket sales man is not here so I cant sell you a ticket sorry.” Problem number 3.

Just by chance the computers and internet were right next to us so we got onto them straight away and found the website to book the flights. (it was a minor problem that the flights had gone up by about £50) We added all the details into the system with our hearts racing as check in would be closing very soon. After a minor issue of credit running out on the pre-pay machine Jas finally put in his details and his flight was confirmed, he was going to Istanbul…or so we thought!

I added the details and was using Jason’s credit card to pay for the flight, “SORRY WE DO NOT ACCEPT THIRD PARTY PAYMENTS ON THIS SITE” read the notification in bold red letters on the screen. Problem number 4. That was it, Jas was going to Istanbul – on his own. I hastily made a call to my mum, ” Mum could you put £100 in my bank straight away I’m in London airport and want to fly to Istanbul in less than an hour and check in closes in 20 minutes. “Of course love Ill do it right away!” (Mum your a life saver)

Brilliant I thought, Ill just book the flight with my card and we can be on our way. I added the details only to be told the flight was no longer for sale as the airline had withdrawn them. Of course, its 10 minutes until check in closes, no one would be so stupid as to think they could book a ticket 30 minutes before the plane leaves. (Oh yes there are) Problem number 5.

I called the ticket sales number and they said sorry there are no tickets for this flight, they are no longer for sale. So I sulkily went with Jas to check in and say my goodbyes wondering how I would get from Stansted to London then Manchester in time for my flight on 1st back to Antalya. The train to Manchester was £100 and I started to feel a little silly.

Problem number…I cant remember! The man at the desk said, “there is no confirmation of this flight so you are not booked on it. I have called the sales UK Manager and there are no details for you sorry.” “Surely there must be something you can do?” He spoke to the manager and he said Jason could buy a new ticket from him and get on the flight….hold on if Jas can buy a flight surely I can do the same I politely asked to speak to the manager. “If Jason gets to buy a ticket, please can I also have a ticket?” “Sure give me your details and ill get you both on the flight right away!” Were we hearing right?

1:45 pm 31st December 2012

Jason gave his card details and to our delight two boarding cards were printed and handed to us with the words, “dont worry you have to go through security and go on the shuttle across the airport to the plane but it will wait for you no problem!”

Me and Jason were giddy that after all the problems and near misses we were finally going (to even our own disbelief) to Istanbul right now. In the hurry Jason left his phone at the security and the assistant said don’t worry ill go and get it for you, the plane will wait. You would think we were some kind of VIPs and the airport was on hold for us. This was all too good to be true.

14:15 31st December 2012

Alas no phone arrived so we boarded the plane which had in fact waited for us. Jason cancelled his phone literally just as we  left the runway, saying I have to go I’m on a plane.

We were brought Efes and a tasty meal as we soared over the Alps to a beautiful sunset and great view of the snow capped mountains. We couldn’t really believe we were actually on the plane after all that had happened, 4 hours sleep and a hell of a lot of adrenalin and hare racing going on all day. I may add that Atlas Jet are a fabulous airline, free luggage, loads of leg room, tasty food and drinks and very friendly and helpful staff.

As we landed at Istanbul airport, I asked a girl if by any chance she was going to Taksim Square and if she wanted to share a taxi, sure she did, she was surprising her friend there as well. (She had of course had hers booked for months).

So we arrived at the restaurant and was quite funny trying to explain to the manager that it was a surprise and not to tell them we are here. Finally he said, “oh Supris” which is very similar in Turkish. We sat down, had a well earned beer and waited with baited (although boozy) breath. In the midst of all the excitement at the airport and thinking it would never happen, I had text Lem to say I couldn’t come and that Jas would be coming alone, I had forgotten to text to say I would now be there, so even she was surprised when she climbed the restaurant stairs to see me and Jas sitting there.

So as Jimi pointed out earlier, he was desperate for the toilet and did in fact nearly wee himself at the sight of us two sitting there when he thought he would be greeted by just the oldies!

The night was better than we could have hoped for and the flow of food, wine, Efes and Raki added to the enjoyment of the evening. We even did some Turkish dancing at midnight and shortly after Tez fell asleep at the table, we went onto a club (something we would never normally do) and had a jolly good time! The trip was well worth the butterflies, the anxiety and the money we spent. To top it off, Jas overslept and nearly missed his plane home. But as we now know you CAN check in late and board at the last minute, I guess some airline staff are kinder than others.

A New Life- Turkish Style

Well we’re almost two months into our new life in Turkey and it’s been a remarkably productive start. I say remarkable because we are surprised how quickly and easily we were able to carve out a new life, both professionally and socially.

We had several weeks getting used to the idea of being settled in Antalya and we had each set our minds on getting some normality into our lives. Rose had a plan of action for gaining employment and was uploading CVs and making calls from the moment we had a roof over our heads. Jimi on the other hand had very different priorities and spent the first few days virtually begging people to let him play footy.

The award for most industrious goes to Rose for securing four different jobs within 10 days. Rose now tutors English to several sets of children and delivers English language workshops in an international school. Always a slow starter, but particularly so after the monetary pressures had diminished thanks to Roses success, Jimi (lazy) waited another (lazy) ten days until starting work at a private language school. He now teaches 5 times a week to small groups of mainly University students wishing to improve their English to further their future careers.

 

So what do we do when we’re not working? Well pretty much the same as we did when we were in Manchester. It is just the conditions we do them under that are different.For example;

Swimming: instead of paying £4 to swim in a busy pool we walk down to the park and swim off the rocks for free.

Football: (Jimi) It is almost exclusively 7 aside here and the Turks don’t like being tackled, often complaining at great lengths at the merest whiff of my incoming boot.

The pub: The breweries Efes and Tuborg have the market cornered here but fortunately they’re pretty good. Actually Jimi is brewing his own real ale for Christmas as we speak. The pubs we like are like cosy bars with outdoor seating (blankets not needed).

Coffee: We’re still drinking espressos from our camping peculator but when we fancy an hour out there’s several trendy and popular coffee shops on the main street selling flavoured Turkish coffees such as almond and hazelnut as well as European style coffee.

Hiking: One of Antalya’s greatest assets is that one minute you can be in the sea and then in 4 hours you can find yourself trekking to the top of a 2800m mountain. The views are splendid, it helps that there isn’t fog and torrential sideways rain here. In the winter we will be walking the same peaks but with ice axe and crampons.

Dog walking: Each morning we walk Lem and Tez’s dog around the local park and listen to a podcast. It’s a nice start to the day, we’re definitely going to get our own dog when we settle for good.

And food (of course): We’re still eating a lot of it. We’ve always eaten fresh food and a lot of vegetables but now we’ve taken it to another level. Not only is it very fresh but it’s so cheap too. There are several nearby markets each week and we enjoy shopping for food more than ever, the taste testing is a meal in itself!

All in all life ain’t half bad here and we’re enjoying this part of our trip  just as much as the travelling.

Turkey: It’s blooming good here!

*Warning, you may want to make a cup of tea before reading this. It’s OK, nobody dies, it’s just dauntingly long and you might need one to perk you up, or you could do as the Turks do and have seven.

We spent 3 weeks cycling in turkey and probably (sorry other countries) found it the most rewarding to travel in. But we knew this already, that’s why we have planned to stay here for several months. With this in mind we have separated this blog into little categories. It seems overly flattering it is in the slim hope that the people who issue the work permits are reading. We hope you enjoy it.

Generosity

 

In the beginning we were left astonished by the fruit seller who gave us some grapes for free instead of upping the price, as we would normally expect as daft looking foreigners on even sillier looking bicycles. By the end of our few weeks cycling through Turkey Rhiannon was quoted as saying, “So what free stuff did we get today?” Which I think unflatteringly demonstrates how quickly we had become desensitised to Turkish generosity. The answer to her question on this occasion was 6 teas, 2 bunches of grapes, tomatoes, cheese, bread, raki and onions. How you might wonder, well it goes a little bit like this: cycle along, say hello to someone who then invites you in for tea (it is difficult to say know, in the end we had to limit ourselves to only accepting 3 times a day otherwise we would never have got anywhere) and then sit and talk for an hour whilst your cup is constantly refilled. The Turkish people we came across were almost always interested in what we were doing and on learning of our trip would offer us a gift, this would often be food, in the form of breakfast in their house or fruit and veg from their stall or car.

On one occasion it was late in the day and we were looking for somewhere to camp when a man in the vineyards begun frantically waving and whistling at us. Now this is always a critical moment, we must quickly evaluate someone’s sanity from distance, in our experience some people are genuinely enthusiastic and kind and others are just downright crazy. On this occasion we were struggling to find a decent camp spot so despite our misgivings decided to give the guy a chance. After a strange interaction in the middle of the vines we established that we could not camp here because we must stay at his house, a farm in the nearby village. ‘Hamza’ was his name and we stayed for two nights and had a lovely time, cooking and eating fresh wholesome food, drinking homemade Raki and repairing the bicycles whilst Hamza milked his cows and tended to his vines. We had a much needed rest and more importantly had a small glimpse at life in rural Turkey. Hamza if you’re listening, thanks for having us and I’m sorry for my dancing and breaking the sink..

Actually Knowing Something about a Country

On the boat over to Dikili something was different, eerily different… we knew this country, we could say hello, order dinner even, we knew the dinner would be good, we knew the people were friendly, we knew how much stuff cost, this was all new to us.

How would we cope with this unprecedented power? Quite well indeed actually. It is such lovely feeling to be able to communicate with people in their mother tongue rather than having to point and gesticulate, or find an English speaker (this does make you feel quite useless after a while.) Whilst Rose and I know the rudimentaries of Turkish Rhiannon has lived in Turkey for 6 months and worked hard to get to grips with the language. So with her leading the conversations and us chipping in we were able to have rather enjoyable interactions, with the bonus of improving our Turkish quite sharply. I think this really contributed to our overall experience of travelling through rural Turkey as the confidence this gave us enabled us to deal with situations in a relaxed manner. This has not been the case in other countries where understanding nothing of the language can lead you to feeling anxious (almost always without reason) in certain scenarios. Plus you get to know local people more easily and it is through them I think that you can truly get a feel for a region.

So, I think in an ideal world we would travel to new countries with some language skills, but in reality this just isn’t feasible. To get to Turkey we came through 11 countries in 12 weeks, even for the adept hyperpolygot this would present a challenge. So I think we will make the most of our extended stay in Turkey and continue to muddle through future countries. It isn’t so bad, but it just isn’t as good.

Grub

Another amazing thing about this country is of course the delightful food and if any of you have been to Turkey you will know what I mean. The first stop on our culinary tour was a pide restaurant. This is a thin pizza like base with different toppings, cheese meat, spinach and chillies on (no tomatoes base). These are a delicious and cheap lunchtime snack or evening meal with the complimentary salad that is offered in all Turkish restaurants.

All the salads in Turkey are fresh and delicious, none of this wet or soggy lettuce leaves.  In fact many of our evening meals were dependent on what we could pick during the day. Fruit and veg are being grown on every patch of land there is.

Our favourite places to eat out were these Turkish workers cafes that serve hot food. These cost around 5 lira each and are almost enough to turn you to vegetarianism. The only problem with getting a plate of beans or slow cooked aubergine or peppers (and probably the reason they taste so delicious) is that they are drowned in oil, this is not such a bad thing when cycling though!

As Jimi mentioned before, Hamza invited us to his home for dinner. I was delighted when (I thought) he said “Tavuk Mango” which I interpreted as chicken and Mango. Mmmmm delicious I thought something different, I wonder where he will get the mangos from. When he barbequed the chicken and there was no Mango, I thought oh he’s forgotten to get the mango, but Tavuk Mangal actually means BBQ chicken. It was delicious and we had a rooftop feast of Chicken and salad, pilav (rice) and some Chi Kofte that Rhiannon rustled up. Let’s not forget the home made Raki which he offered (more or less forced on us) but was a delicious compliment. He made the Raki – which is like Sambuca – but drunk with water so it goes cloudy, from the grapes from his vineyard.

Rhi wrote a blog about campsite cooking so you can see some of the recipes of the delicious food we made on her Campsite Cooking blog.

Camping

During our trip as you have heard, we have had some funny experiences of our nightly accommodation. The wild camping has been some of the best as there is so much unused land that we find a hidden spot, usually out of the way but mostly near a main road, and more often than not we are frequently approached by farmers and hunters with large guns or a huge pack of sheep with the shepherd and sheep dogs. The ‘sheep’ dogs however in Turkey are purposely bred big dogs known as ‘kangals’ that are vicious and do not like the idea of cyclists which they think are in fact trying to steal their  sheep. We had many occasions where these ugly creatures growled and barked as we passed them guarding their sheep.

On one occasion Rhi and I (Rose) went off to investigate an abandoned barn, we set off 500m through the field and then noticed a farmer and his sheep. He started shouting at us, but then turned and walked off so we carried on. A few seconds later I saw the dogs and shouted to Rhiannon, “the farmer has dogs and they are coming for us, quick!” I sped off as fast as I could but didn’t hear Rhi behind me shouting “stop and they will stop chasing us!” Three large sets of teeth were at our heels and barking viciously. I sped off and poor Rhiannon was left to shout at them to stop. It was close and they did eventually back off and we were unscathed but none the less were very shaken. The trick we have realised (but in my panic did not remember) is to stop and get off the bikes, shout in an angry farmer sort of way and then pretend to throw stones at them. Much to Rhiannon’s disgust I had left her behind to deal with the dogs on her own and throw things their way. Jimi did not know what to do as he rounded the corner after looking for a camping spot elsewhere to see us surrounded by large angry dogs. The situation soon resolved when they realised we were no threat to their sheep and our bikes were nothing exciting.

Bayram, it’s like Christmas

As we climbed our way through the Taurus mountains on our last leg of this year’s cycling we didn’t know what would be ahead or how many hours of uphill we would have to cycle that day (we were using a tourist picture map). The weather was noticeably milder and we stuffed extra layers on, fished out our unused winter gloves and plodded slowly up into the mist.

Meanwhile Rhiannons bike, ‘The Doctor’, had been experiencing mechanical problems. Both front and rear racks had snapped on one side and we had cable tied and gaffa taped them. As a wise man once said, “if you can’t fix it with cable ties and gaffa tape then you haven’t used enough.” This was becoming very much our mantra. But these problems were now compounded by rear brake failure and recurring punctures caused by a battered old inner tube.

We contemplated hitching the rest of the way to Antalya but this was to be our last night on this leg of the trip so we decided to spend our last 90TL on a hotel room, a celebration beer and a nice meal in a restaurant. We limped into Korkateli and tried to find a room, but in our haste forgotten it was the eve of Bayram and the town was buzzing with people rushing around buying last minute presents in all the shops. Alas there was ‘no room at the Inn’ and all the hotels were closed for the holiday season. In pitch black we cycled to the edge of town and camped in someone’s garden. This is like anonymous generosity I guess. There were the obligatory dogs barking in the distance and the sound of the mosques singing out the prayers as we set up camp. We felt our last night of the trip should have been more of a celebration but I guess it was more fitting. As it was we had a lovely evening and early to bed as we knew we would have to be up extra early to leave in the dark. It’s always a surprise in the morning to see your surroundings in the light for the first time.

We awoke to a live performance from the nearby mosque and a chilly mist in the air. We picked a couple of apples from the orchard and embarked on our final days riding. The roads were unusually empty. We exchanged, “iyi Bayramlas,” with the few people we saw heading home, cars full of kids, food and presents to exchange. It really did feel like Christmas.

As the day went on and we passed through villages, we saw more people, increasingly often carrying large knives. Why? Because the Bayram tradition in Turkey is that each family who can afford it will buy a live goat or sheep and slaughter it outside the front of their house.  The meat is then shared with the poorer neighbours.  We looked on as the whole family gathered round the goat outside their house ready to be slaughtered and skinned for the traditional dinner. They were more than happy to pose for pictures as they celebrated.

We flew down some 1000 metres of altitude in the final 2 hours and were in Antalya by lunchtime. We had celebration Urfa kebabs in the old town before heading to Jimi’s mum’s place. We knocked on the door and begun our Bayram carol singing we had been rehearsing. A confused Terry (Lems husband) answered the door and as we carried our bikes into the back yard it felt very strange. It still does. When you get used to moving on everyday it feels quite foreign to have some roots and put your feet up on a settee to watch a dvd.

The End- Sort of

Although the bikes are being rested for a few months, until we have saved enough money for the next leg of our journey, the keyboard is not. We are going to continue blogging about life in Turkey and the challenges and adventures we encounter.

Thanks for tuning in

Rosy and Jim

Greece, Punctuated by a Birthday

On leaving Macedonia the first thing to do was fix Rose’s puncture again.  We then met a couple of French cycle tourers coming the other way who explained to us that they had been sleeping in the grounds of churches and that this was a widely accepted practice. So for the first time in our trip we immediately went in search of God’s house. The first was surrounded by many barking dogs and we decided against it. The second was on a small hill being overlooked by a village. With no-one around to ask and light fading fast we pitched up and the chef got to work on a nice noodle number.

We were up early to evade discovery, but thwarted by two well hidden punctures did not leave the church until 9 o’clock. Flat tyre syndrome continued as we had another 2 to repair before lunch. We did have a lovely country road to follow that wound through the hills, the wind swept farms and past some friendly packs of dogs. We asked about sleeping in a church but were informed, “forbidden” and “police” so we spent the night in an apple orchard completely hidden from view. Maybe we weren’t welcome at these camping churches after all. Of course we awoke to people working just metres away- damn that agricultural work ethic- and another 2 punctures! So we stealthily pushed our bikes out of the orchard into safe ground before repairs could begin.

This day was spent wholly on a motorway which was no fun at all. The only entertainment coming when Rhi punctured both tyres and had 3 holes in one of them. I think we must have been going a bit mad to have enjoyed this!

We found a lovely camp-spot in the scrubland near to (and still in earshot of) the E96 and its 4 lanes of traffic. Rose and I slept well. Rhi on the other hand was too excited, as it was the eve of her 27^th birthday. Rhiannon woke us early and we were forced into giving her presents and making her a full English breakfast. Although I suspect the latter was not wholly altruistic, chortle chortle. This joyous occasion was interrupted by an invasion of hunting dogs who were surprised to be on the trail of herby sausages instead of the usual rabbits. We pretended the ensuing gunfire was a six gun birthday salute and uneasily crept back to the relative safety of the motorway.

A short but hectic ride later and we were in Thessaloniki. We couchsurfed here with Hlias and Moto, a pair of jugglers (not out of choice) and bike enthusiasts (very much a choice). They explained that many of their friends were unhappy living in Greece and were trying to find a way to live in another country. They are mostly pissed off with the shit money situation, everything is very expensive and the wages are very low. It costs €1 for two tomatoes and a chef in a restaurant will be paid around €2.20 an hour. We ate a delicious meal in a local taverna and drank a couple of beers to celebrate Rhi’s birthday.

The next day was an even more monumental occasion, ‘the doctor’- Rhi’s bike- was getting new tyres. So now wearing Schwalbe Marathon Plus’s we are hoping for a puncture free few weeks in Turkey. We took  the overnight ferry to Lesbos – from where we would take a shorter one to Diliki, Turkey the following day enter Asia.

On Lesbos we couchsurfed with a lovely lady Nefalia with whom we shared some warm and interesting conversations, a swim on a deserted beach and some of her Mum’s home cooked delights. We even witnessed a miracle- Rhiannon said no to a party!

Macedonia Bears All

After arriving in Struga in a dream like state- an 11km downhill at 40kmph can do this to you- we sent Rhi (‘the chef’) to the shops to buy the ingredients for dinner and off we set to find the campsite for the night. Our new found friend Jonny had a ‘no campsite policy’ so Jimi had to regretfully inform him that we would be staying in a campsite as we had not had a shower for four days and needed one. Jonny replied with, “Ive not had a shower in  a month.” I was shocked at this and we plodded on down the road to find the campsite. It was of course closed and there was a fence up so we could not even get in and sleep there free of charge. We circled the surrounding areas to find a wild camp spot and could not see anywhere apart from an old land fill site which had old bones which to our disgust were the size of human ones and we were a little worried about this spot! We decided it had gotten too dark and we could not find a spot so we agreed to get a room and set off in search…it was low season and we could not find one close. Just as we gave up hope, a Mercedes crawled along beside us and we were asked if we would like a room, €50, ‘no thank’s we said and carried on. A little down the road,  a BMW pulled up and a man peered from the blacked out windows and said ‘room?’ we said we were looking for a camping spot and he said ‘come and stay in my house’. We were a little dubious about this but followed him anyway and trusted he would help us out with a little bit of grass to camp on. Further down the road, we pulled up outside a huge pink luxurious apartment block with a grass lawn and extravagant water features. Lovely we thought, we can camp on his lovely grass, perfect! He then said to us ‘ it’s far too cold to be outside, would you like to just have an apartment?’ We said we have no money and he said no its okay, you stay inside as its too cold outside.

A luxurious 5* apartment awaited us and he brought us towels and bedding and looked after us as we were his own! He explained there is only tourism there for two months of the year and so the apartments are empty and we may as well use them.A great nights sleep later we awoke to find I had my first puncture and we did not want to leave the luxury of the apartment and the beautiful hospitality of Aris who was so kind to us. We felt again its only a small act of kindness but can touch our hearts. We set off full of warmth- although still unclean as there was no running water- and feeling happy about the Macedonia and what it had to offer us.

After a little party on the pier we bid an emotional farewell to our new found friend Jonny and bid him a safe trip ahead.

Lake Ohrid is an extremely clear lake and we were told one of the clearest in the world, it was very cold as well. Rhi sat with the fish nibbling on her toes while Jimi had an Indian style bath and washed in the water.

 

 

We knew there was a large mountain ahead of us, we stuffed ourselves with bread and cheese and prepared for the climb to the other side of Macedonia. We started the climb and realised it would be tougher than all of the other climbs, so 3 hours later and ploughing on in the heat we decided to stop at a wood chopping clearing and camp there fore the night. Dinner was cooked and by the time it was dark and we had filled our hungry tummys, we were fast asleep by 8pm, resting our bodies for the next days climb.

We awoke to the screech of tyres and quickly got ready and found a man with an axe in the clearing close by, me and Jimi exchanged glances nervously but the little old man waved and said, “Good morning” (to our delight). The final climb to 2200 metres was a slow one as Rhi hadn’t slept much and had an upset stomach (either that or herEPO was running low). The view at the top was magnificent and well worth the 6 hour climb. We read the information at the top as we admired the view, only to realise where we camped in the national park was home to brown bears, Balkan lynx and Balkan chamois. Wow we thought we had a close shave there.

It took a mere 30 minutes to speed down the other side of the mountain and through the apple orchids which were abundant. We picked a few and they were some of the most delicious apples we had tasted, a great reward after our two days efforts. Rhi was still not feeling well and she decided the 30km to Bitola would be a little too much and decided to hitch a lift, so off she got into a transit van with a man and his wife and we cycled on. I of course took a picture of the van to be on the safe side. They were Macedonian Turks who ended up taking Rhi for coffee and cake, finally her Turkish language skills were coming into play.

 

Bitola greeted us with a bustle of three weddings and songs and dancing in the streets, Rhi found a hostel and we made traditional Macedonian sausage, egg and chips! We got talking to a Macedonian man in the hostel and he said, I cant believe you actually stayed in that national park, the locals don’t stay out there after dark as they are feared of the bears and wolves. ( I am so happy we did not know this before)

Macedonia had been an adventure and we were happy, we met Aris, and happily we didn’t meet the bears.