We crossed into Turkey at a small border post on the Black Sea Coast. It was a windy morning but beautifully clear. I was terrified the wind would be in front of us but as the double lane Turk highway extended in front of us it was clear we were going to have some assistance. It would be the only time in Turkey the wind would be in our favour. We didn’t know that then fortunately.
The soldiers beyond the border were interested in us. I suspect they didn't have that much to do so were looking for an excuse to stop us
The road was wide like a motorway back in New Zealand but with few cars. It was gloriously smooth and we made good time. The coast was built up and large towns seemed to rise above the sea every 10km or so. They were characterised by towering apartment blocks and mosques that were different to the ones we had experienced in India. Tall parapets towered above the central dome. Often four towers but sometimes just one. They were quite beautiful.
Cay (pronounced chai) is a staple in the Turkish diet. I suspect they drink more tea than the British
We were determined to challenge ourselves to match our friends, The World Spokespeople, who got through Turkey without paying for accommodation. This we thought was going to be tough. The first night we struggled on the side of the highway to find a spot. I saw a patch of grass beside a house and decided to go and ask the ladies if it was possible to camp there. She struggled to understand and kept suggesting we go to the Mosque to stay, at least that’s what I think she meant. Eventually she understood what we needed and we began to set up camp. A few minutes later the lovely lady walked over with some of the most beautiful oranges I’ve tried. The beginnings of our exposure to Turkish hospitality.
The first campsite wasn't the most scenic but it certainly served its purpose. The powerlines follow the highway
Eggs for breaky along with chocolate and biscuits to go with the tea. We eat well when we camp
Beautiful roads and a beautiful day, the latter not being so common
Smooth sailing
My stomach hadn’t been right since India and I was struggling away with it. Every day I would feel nauseous, particularly after eating anything. On our second day in Turkey we were met with headwinds and this recurring illness. We saw a castle on a headland and decided to have a look. Inside was a rolling grassy area that was perfect for camping. We had views that stretched as far as the eye could see north. I imagined Russia to the north. The wind was cold but the sun was out so we braved a swim in the sea. Locals set up for picnics in our castle also. No one was bothered by our presence. At first we were nervous to be camping around other people. Soon we learned the Turks just loved us being in their country and were eager to help whenever possible. There was no danger to us. The wind got up in the night again and we were faced with headwinds.
The view from our castle campsite. The sea was freezing cold
We sat and soaked the last rays of sunshine for the day before setting up camp and cooking food
The inside of the castle was a perfect lawn for us to camp on
The road towards Istanbul by night
In Ordu we arrived hoping to get hosted. I’d messaged many people on Warmshowers and had yet to get a response. As we sat rather exhausted and me feeling sick at a petrol station at 5pm facing the prospect of camping at the mosque we received a message from someone. They were going to drive to the petrol station after work and take us back to their apartment. Relief set in as the wind and then rain did the same. We were welcomed into the house in typical Turkish fashion.
‘Our house is your house, please make yourselves at home. We are going out now to class so the house is yours. There’s some food in the fridge and please have a shower’, our lovely host said.
I couldn’t believe the change in fortune. Only an hour ago we’d been sitting on the curb of a petrol station with nowhere to stay. We had hot showers, tea, and food. Our hosts cooked a big meal for us and insisted we didn’t pay. We were invited to stay as long as we needed. We’d only planned one night in Ordu but our legs were sore and the next day we were to cycle inland over some large mountains. We took the opportunity of a rest day and enjoyed a beautiful day where we were treated to more incredible hospitality and a free lunch from a cyclists cafe. The owner had photos of all the cycle tourers who’d come through his restaurant.
These two gents waved us over as we were on the side of the road and brought us tea. Wonderful Turkish hospitality
Black Sea apartment blocks
I only shot from the three point line because that is what I like to call my 'kill zone' where the majority go in
The view of Ordu from the top of the cable car
Our wonderful hosts Serdal and Ayce who had us for two nights. They made their home our home which was truly special
We had to swim in the sea despite the cold
Saying goodbye to our hosts
The rest was important. Unfortunately I had damaged a tendon in my wrist, a product of an overly enthusiastic pack down of my sleeping bag exacerbated by shooting countless three pointers on the basketball court, and so had my wrist in a splint. It made for frustrating cycle for me as I had to use my left hand to shift the gears on the right side as well. My stomach was dodgy also and Istanbul felt like a long way away. The turn inland brought with it hills. Altitude became my great fear, not for pain of cycling up hill which I quite enjoy, but for cold. I didn’t want to be riding in snow again or foiled by a closed pass. As we turned from Unye towards the south the road went up immediately and became an ascent into the cloud. The fog closed in on us and it got very cold. Visibility dropped down to about 20m. This created a sense of danger in the troupe. I really was questioning our decision to go inland at that point. We arrived at a small town with a mosque, a small cafe for backgammon that had a nice stove fire, and not much else. We huddled in the cafe and tried to get across we needed to stay at the mosque or in the cafe. There was a fasting celebration on that evening so the mosque was off limits and the cafe also for reasons we understood. The tents came out and we set up in the mist, huddling for warmth under a shed on stilts that afforded some shelter. We cooked with two pairs of gloves on, neckwarmers, beanies, thermals, windbreakers and waterproof pants over thermal bottoms. It was rather chilly that night.
Here we took shelter. It was freezing outside and we were about to go out into it
Art camped underneath whatever that thing is. Sean and I were outside it. We cooked under it and that afforded some protection but as you can see we are in a cloud. A very cold cloud
Cold. There is a mosque just behind the shot and that piped up with loud chants
We’d already climbed a long way and the road inland the next day was warmer, pleasantly so. A wonderful Turkish host couldn’t have us to stay at his house and so put us up in a hotel after a day of riding into a horrible headwind. The terrain rolled in all kinds of green with castles a top hills and yellow flowers through the grassy fields. It was rather picturesque settings.
Art’s knee was in a bad way by this stage. He was reduced to a crawl up hills and it was getting him down a bit. We had a huge day of climbing and went up over a 1600m pass. It was howling with a headwind so strong that at one point I got slowed to 8kph on a downhill of about 5% gradient. I was pedalling with as much gusto as the situation commanded. At the top of the pass we were soaked with rain and the snow on the roadside was making things colder still. There was a building at the top of the pass and so we huddled for shelter there. Suleman and his road working gang welcomed us in and had us for lunch, then tea, then dinner, and then housed us. Breakfast was on the cards too. It was incredible.
Dark moments in roaring headwinds. It was too cold to take off the wind breaker that acted as a sail in the headwind
Our wonderful host Suleman who took hundreds of photos of us for his grandkids
Art in a dark space. Headwinds are so much worse than hills. There's no view and you should be going faster for less effort
The troupe of road workers. There evidently wasn't too much to do as they spent all their time drinking tea. Suleman kept them fed and watered
We camped and cycled our way on and made it to Cappadocia a few days later. Our friends The World Spokespeople had given us the coordinates of a wild camping site in the middle of the incredible rocky outcrop. Rolling the bikes down to a grassy knoll that had views you’d pay a lot to see from a hot air balloon we found a cave. The area was a Christian settlement and is essentially a series of underground churches, houses, and schools. We loaded our gear into one of these ancient houses and slept there for two nights, exploring the national park the next day.
A truly special moment for us hitting 15,000kms. We'd dreamed of getting to this total. It was our goal at the start of the trip to manage this number. On the morning we hit it the sun came out and briefly we rode in glorious conditions
Tired but so happy to have made it to 15k
Very happy boy to have achieved the first real goal of the trip
Posing all the way to London for our lovely Sean
Art pointing out some wonderful rock formations
Art descending dangerously
We camped inside this abandoned farm building. It kept the dew off the tents and afforded us some protection from the wind
Fresh tomatoes, eggplant, onion, garlic, beans, and pasta make for a vegetarian chefs delight
Spring in Turkey was particularly beautiful at times
Discussing the route
Apartment blocks everywhere. It's most unlike New Zealand in that regard and I consider ourselves so lucky to have it the other way around
Another host, Furkan, was an expert at Shisha. He gave us food and supplies for the road including a tea pot we still use
Furkan and his friend Mustafa
A beautiful mosque. Note the snow still very heavy on the mountains behind
Mt Erciyes near Keyseri
Arriving at our campsite in Cappadocia
We sat playing guitar, drinking beer, and eating peanuts with the most exceptional view. I'll hand it over to Arthur. This is a long blog indeed
ARTHUR
We had been worried that the detour to Cappadocia would be in vain somewhat, as there was no chance the balloons would fly in the winds we’d been riding into. It was a miracle that the one day we had off the bikes brought with it much calmer conditions than we’d been used to in the days prior to our arrival. The first morning, we woke to the roar of hot air balloons overhead, and simply spent the morning sat on the edge of a cliff near our campsite. The sky was literally littered with the things!
Not a bad spot for a beer
A rare beer in Turkey, having not seen them for days off the tourist trail
The wind began to calm as the evening drew on
It was a bit of a bonus not having to set up the tents. Quite the experience living in our cave, with built in shelves and raised sleeping areas (in the cave that is out of shot)
I've woken up to worse views
It would be tiresome to try and count them all
Rest day supplies ride into Goreme. It's fair to say, we didn't rest that much in Turkey
The calm weather would not grace us with its presence any longer than that, and as we celebrated Sean’s birthday with a special camp breakfast the following morning, a stiff easterly blew into the cave. This wasn’t all bad, or so we thought, as an easterly would likely be a tailwind as we rolled west. Though as soon as the bikes were loaded, it would shift 180 degrees, and a light rain slowly developed into a torrential downfall. It was bitterly cold, and after reaching the crest of the climb out of the valley, we huddled for warmth in an abandoned building, carpeted in broken glass. The rain would stop, but the wind persisted.
For me, personally, that day would become the toughest day of the trip to date. My right leg continued to give me grief, and progress was painfully slow as we ground our way through rolling farmland towards Aksaray. At the top of one undulation I called for a Mental Health Break (MHB), whereby I took the liberty of picking up a rock and throwing it at a tree. I guess it just made me feel worse that I missed the tree, and I bent over with my hands on my knees, wondering when my body would mend. Istanbul felt like a long way away, and time wasn’t something we had a lot of before we had Timmy joining us. I seriously started to doubt whether I’d be able to get through the trip, if things got worse. With Freddie taking the wind all day as a result of my decrepitation, my respiratory system wasn’t being tested at all. It was purely a physical impairment, that wasn’t going to get better riding 100kms+ every day, into a raging gale. I couldn’t even stand on the pegs, as the pain was too much to bear. I was starting to hate cycling, and that’s not the best thing to hate when you still have a good 7,000kms to ride before the end of the trip.
The day was made all the better by our host that night, who promptly ordered us pizzas upon our arrival, and he even had beer! He must have known it was Sean’s birthday. At no point in Turkey had we been offered beer by our hosts, being a Muslim country after all. The following days were easy in comparison, as the wind eased somewhat, before blowing gently behind us on our way into Ankara two days later.
The night before arriving in Ankara, we camped out in the playground of a petrol station. Luckily our stove didn't blow the place up. Petrol station workers in Turkey often take the liberty of lighting up darts as they fill cars, so we figured we'd be alright. We also discovered the remnants of a campfire a lot closer to the pumps
Rolling farmland, and vast open spaces on the highway to Ankara
Two local road cyclists we met on the ride into Ankara. They shouted us coffee and lunch, before escorting us to the edge of the city. We were very envious of how light their bikes were
The staunch faced guards at the Ataturk Mausoleum
Nesli and Olly - our two awesome Warmshowers hosts, who made our stay in Ankara all the more special
Nesli and Olly - this trip has led us to meet some amazing people, and these guys were awesome!
We spent one day in Ankara, visiting the mausoleum of Mustafa Ataturk (‘Father of the Turks’) and museum. Being history students, we sure do love a bit of propaganda, and we certainly got our fair share in our brief visit. Our wonderful Warmshowers hosts showed us around the city and university campus, where we spent an evening sitting in the stands of the athletics arena drinking beers and listening to Fat Freddy’s Drop - it was real American College type stuff (except for Fat Freddy’s Drop, and the evening prayer that could be heard).
The ride out of Ankara was hectic, and was made worse by a hail storm that blasted us on a rather quick descent. We found ourselves caught out, riding on the highway with no markets making themselves seen as we delved deeper into the national park to the north. We had little supplies for the night, so aimed for a petrol station that lay over the crest of the last hill of the day. Snow was roadside once again, though not nearly as thick as we’d experienced in Georgia, and our breath began to condense. It had been a long day, and after discovering that the market near the petrol station was closed, we had to settle with chocolate, snacks and a lentil pasta which Fred managed to whip up with very little ingredients - lentils, pasta, two minute noodle flavouring sachets, marmite and water. It tasted a lot better than it sounds.
Our water bottles were rock solid in the morning, having frozen overnight, which meant tea and coffee took a while to come by at the camp. After descending down from altitude, things began to get warmer, the thermals came off, and morale improved. Maybe spring was going to show itself after all.
We were in for a cold night as we set up camp amongst a thicket of pine trees
Sean loves a good long exposure, especially when he knocks the tripod over, and it turns out like this
Freddie's always wanted to look like all those cool vapers out there
Chilly night
The descent was awesome, especially when you have three lanes, and the shoulder to play with
In sync
These old lads waved us over for a cay (pronounced chai) on our way to camp. We drank more cay than water in Turkey
The terrain flattened, and the wind eased, which helped take weight off my knee, so I certainly began to feel a lot better in the saddle. On the eve of our arrival in Istanbul, we found ourselves a beautifully quaint, bucolic campsite among some blossoming trees in a farmers lakeside orchard. Finding a campsite is so much better than checking into a hotel, and we’d lucked out once again. Turkey has been so easy, and the locals are so friendly, that any bit of flat land is camp-able - you just have to ask. The tranquility of the night stood as a wonderful contrast for the chaos and stress that lay ahead.
Freddie going for a wee stroll to the lake
An afternoon snooze for Sean after a gruelling leg of the trip. Contemplating life before Timmy joined the draft train
Freddie getting in the zone before the big ride into Istanbul. Nothing like a hot cuppa to kick start the day
We’d been warned that the ride into Istanbul was not worth the hassle, and that we should catch the boat into the city centre instead, but the prospect of riding our bicycles over the Bosphorous Bridge, which connects the Asian and European continents, was one we could not pass up. I’d never been to Europe before that ride, so I figured it would be made all the more special. To get to the bridge however, we braved the Istanbul motorways, which stretched 100kms long. It was the most direct route in. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. We came at it with a blasé approach, knowing we’d ridden our bikes into the heart of Jakarta, New Delhi, Bangkok, Saigon, Kolkata and Kathmandu - surely Istanbul wouldn't be that bad. To make a long story short, it was that bad. In fact, it was a lot worse!
It was stupid really, as the three of us merged with traffic and crossed on and off ramps, with vehicles zipping by at over 100km/h. In one tunnel, a vehicle came so close that the slightest of swerves on our part, or even just the extension of the elbow outwards could have ended our trip there and then. It just wasn’t worth the risk. But hey, we didn’t get hit!
The ride across the bridge brought up a whole heap of emotions for us all, as we were buffeted sideways from the wind channeling through from the Black Sea. We’d made it to Europe! It was a milestone we’d all been excited to hit, though our arrival in the EU would have to wait a few weeks as we made our way to the ferry to Greece.
The Bosphorous Bridge, joining the continents of Europe and Asia. A monumental moment for the three of us, especially me, seeing as I'd never visited Europe before
Our makeshift locking system in the stairwell of our host's apartment building in Istanbul. Space was limited
Old man take a look at my life, I'm a lot like you were - probably not though
City views
The Blue Mosque, under repairs, so we won't able to go inside. There was an abundance of bias literature outside which was a fun read
We had just one day left as a trio, which was spent seeing some of the sights of Istanbul, before reporting to the pub for a beer and reminisce over the time we’d had to date. 16,100kms and over 10 months of Fred, Art and Sean. We hope you’ve enjoyed the ride up until this point. We knew things would change rather abruptly by adding a fourth member, and his first few weeks with us would bring it’s fair share of drama. But I’ll leave that story untold for now, as I’m sure you’d love to read through the lens of Tim Chen: grossly unfit and ill prepared for what awaited, though with a steadfast spirit, and pain threshold like no other. Operation Baptism by Fire was about to begin…
