Istanbul to Cappadocia. 3000 miles!

Day 56

Riding into to istanbul was probably one of the most insane things that i have ever done! All of Europe's Asia bound truckers get funnelled into a six lane bottleneck of mayhem that flies towards the bosphorus at around 70 miles an hour. i had been warned by several people that riding into istanbul wasn't advisable. the cycle touring handbook reccomends getting a bus into town and my dads cousin, who knows the city reasonably well, suggested skipping istanbul alltogether on account of the headcase drivers roaming the streets. desperately trying to remember everything from our cycling preficiancies and clenching our buttocks tight we persevered and made it through by the skin of our teeth. i particularly enjoyed it when our 2 lane B road merged with a motorway and came out the otherside of it thus obliging us to cross 3 lanes of high speed traffic. such was the intensity and stress of our 2 hour battle that by the end of it i felt like i'd sat my finals again!

That evening we found ourselves in istanbuls oldest nargile (water pipe) smoking joint. the people watching was sublime and as the nicotine coursed through my veins i could feel the previous weeks hardships slowly trickling away. a turkish art dealer named hasan made his way past moustached pipe smoking gents and through the smokey haze to take a seat next to us. we talked about turkish art and premier league football (he couldn't believe that turkish footballer Tuncay had left turkey to live in the north of england). Hasan was also the first of many turks to point out to me that he felt european. "look around" he said, "we're in europe". he couldn't believe that turkey was not in the EU but (supprisingly for me) i didn't want to engage in a political discussion after the day i had so i quickly steered the conversation back to football.

Days 57 and 58

the next two days ollie and i spent marvelling at sights such as the marble cladded aya sofia and stupendous blue mosque. we indulged ourselves. i think i might have eaten my own body weight in turkish delight. we embarked on a tedious hunt to find a decent turkish road map, which we finally found in an art gallery of all places! i gained the assistance of a turkish speaking sweede named Eylem who helped me track down a new sleeping mat (my previous one had given up in Bulgaria which probably contributed to my dislike of the country). i ate some more turkish delight. from the wonderfull galata bridge, which had hundreds of fisherman standing shoulder to shoulder on it, i looked out across the bosphorus at asia. i made several trips to 'The Pudding Shop'. we strolled through the spice markets and spent a small fortune on getting our clothes washed.

Day 59

ollie and i rushed to catch the ferry that was to take us from europe to asia. we sailed to a town called Yalova where we were going to meet a freind of mine called Fulya. Fulya was great fun. she bought us lunch in a fantastic little cafe where the enthusiatic german speaking hosts kept giving us sugared milk which was meant to power us over the anatolian plateau. they commented that we were hansom enough but could really bennefit from a shave. having thought that we were both looking a little scruffy we plucked up the courage and threw ourselves at the mercy of a turkish barber. and what an experience it was!

under strict instructions that i wanted a turkish style moustach my barber, named yusseff, first used some clippers to remove the wort of my beard. he then massaged a balm into my face before lathering me up with some shaving cream. he then begun very skillfully passing a razor over my face, pinching my face, chin and neck to get as close a shave as he could. once the worrying bit was over he covered my entire face in an alcoholic balm (to make me "look like a baby") which made my eyes run everytime i breathed in. "are you crying?" asked fulya. this balm was blow dried onto my face turning it white and then removed with a coarse horse hair brush. i was then bent over a sink and my face was washed and shampoo massaged into my hair. yusseff then cut my hair and used a flaming rod of meths to singe whatever fluff there was left that he didn't like. He then sculpted my turkish mustache (in Cappadocia i have been mistaken for a turk such is the authenticity of my new facial hair). i was then passed to his assistant who gave me a massage!!! never have i been so pampered and all of this cost less than a fiver! as we said goodbye to our barbers and fulya in yalova i thought that Ollie looked particularly sharpe with his new goate.

that night we were discovered in our campsite. a motorbike came down the track we had put our tent by and dissapeaerd without a word. the driver (we assume) then returned later with five other men who wanted to know what we were up to! my heart pounded as they approached us in the dark and started looking ar all of our stuff. fortunately we had gotten fulya to translate a letter explaining who we were and that combined with our new clean cut looks seemed to satisfy our assailants. as they departed one ran back to give ollie a torch - very bizzare!

Days 60 - 65

The next day was great. we rode along lake iznik where the olive harvest was in full swing. we then began our climb up onto the anatolian plateau where, later that afternoon, we were to recieve out first taste of the anatolian generosity. passing through a remote village we stpped to ask for directions and were quickly invited into a cafe for chy (tea). Rahim, the cafe owner, then laid on some food for us and gave us bread to take away. we had only just eaten our lunch but could hardly say no to this kindly man who wanted to give us everything he could. we departed with a hug which was so good i went in for a second!

it is the cheery generosity of the turkish people that has really defined our experience travelling across the plateau. the following day the weather was filthy and we were invited into another cafe for free chy, they let us eat the food we had just bought in a shop and they dried our cloths and even my sleeping bag. in another village we were trying to find some fresh vegetables, of which there were none, so a shop keeper jumped on his motorbike and went to his house to bring us back some from his own larder. people come running from their houses like mad men in the hope of inviting you in for chy. we've had to get good a politely saying no as we'd never get anywhere if these exceptionally generous people had it all their way!

with the exception of that one wet day the weather has been good. clear sunny days to help emphasise the rolling yellow beauty of the plateau. we've had a tail wind which has been great but at night the temperatures plummit bellow zero. our water freezes and so do we! it takes us longer to get going in the morning as our bodies wont function properly in the early cold hours but as the sun rises we thaw out and our spirits pick up. we've covered around 400 miles in six days which has felt like a real achievement as daylight is becoming sparse as the nights draw in. the villages we pass are all fascinating and worlds apart fro istanbul. the agricultural scenery has been very interesting too. shepards on donkeys and wierd contraptions that lift whole tractors and trailers 30ft in the air to help them tip their loads! we even met a spanish cyclist called silvestor who had been riding around the world for 10 years. the only thing that ive not enjoyed about the plateau has been the dogs! they chase and bark at you at every opportunity and we are now in rabbies land so there's twice the reason to be worried.

Day 66

we met a fascinating character called Burant (or Jimmy as he wished us to call him) on top of a hill where we had stopped to take in the view and brew some coffee. his friend had passed us in his van and rung him to say "there are some tourists coming your way, see if they need any help". obligingly he had left the cattle that he had been watching over and came to see if we needed anything.

Jimmy had spent 7 years working illegally in the uk and with two sets of intesrestd ears to appease he unravelled the twists and turns that had brought him to that hill watching over the cattle he had bought with the money he'd made there. apparently hundreds of people had left his village, now full of modern buildings, for the uk in the late 90's as immigration controll was non existent. he had worked in kebab houses from newquay to dundee. he'd run a coffe shop and even smuggled in cannabis hidden inside of red cabbages. he had a spell in prison in scotland. he had both a turkish wife and children and an english gilfriend and children. he told us about the mafia, people trafficking, the pkk's cocaine growing, his love of the uk and how he dreams of being back there every night, his gambling and finally how he was caught and deported back to turkey. despite his colourfull background he was a genuinely nice bloke! he'd been on dartmoor and ollie and he hit it off talking about cows as they both breed simintiles. he took us to see his two year old bull which he was particularly proud of and wanted to sell it to ollie for 3000 pounds. he gave us his number and offered his assistance should we need it anywhere. he also warned us that there is no garlic sauce in cappadocia! After we left him i thought to myself that there is a very good chance that he might have served me a kebab in newquay! small world.

That evening we finally made it to cappadocia and laid our heads to rest in the flintstones cave pension, both excited about the day of exploration to come.

Day 67

Cappadocia is amazing! ollie and i spent the day seperately exploring this wonderous landscape which i think is best done in solitude. i started in the open air museum in gorome and was amazed by the 12th and 13th century churches that had been carved in to the sandstone. i really enjoyed climbing in and out of the various rooms and imagining the lives of the monks that would have lived in them. i then rode and carried the bike through some seemingly impassable valleys. the shapes that had formed in the stone around me were simply phenomenal.

kemal seemed just as surprised to see me as i was to see him when i stumbled across his juice shack in the remote corner of one valley. i bought a pomegramete juice and he gave me a chy and my first ever lesson in backgammon. begginners luck saw me victorious but i still dont really understand how to play! i then rolled on down the hill to see to wonder at anthropormorphic rock forms and the rose valley at sunset. i highly reccomend a trip to cappadocia!

that evening ollie and i started planning the next leg of our trip. we're going to be going higher and getting colder on our exit from turkey but hopefully we'll warm up in syria!

i'll keep you posted!