We left Istanbul at the break of dawn. After three days of wandering around the city we were nervous about riding any of the busy streets. Istanbul traffic is notoriously bad. The drivers are quite aggressive contrasted by amazingly nonchalant pedestrians. The thought of trying to ride out of sprawling Istanbul was too much, so the short ride to a nearby ferry terminus seemed a much better plan. We managed to get to the ferry on quiet back roads but we never would have made the 7 AM sailing for Bandirma if it weren’t for a young English speaking women who saw our befuddlement at the ticket line up and helped us buy tickets. A two hour crossing of the Sea of Marmara on a modern ferry and our bike trip finally began.
Our three days in Istanbul were a bit chaotic trying to accomplish way too much, sorting out a bunch of technology problems (I’m such a Luddite!), buying supplies, getting to a post office to send my damaged Kobo e-reader back home (that I had squeezed between the arm rest and my reclining business class bed/seat….a major bummer!) and visiting the obligatory sites – the Hagia Sophia, the Sultan Ahmet Mosque, the Grand Bazaar, etc. We were just starting to figure out how to use the subway, the tram and getting a sense of the geography of this 2500 year old city when we abruptly left. Maybe we’ll come back some day.
Turkish delights and carpets! If only we could have brought one of the latter home.
Our first full day on the bikes was classically serendipitous. Our plan was to head down the west coast until, at some as of yet undefined point, we cross the Aegean Sea to Greece. From Bandirma we headed for Biga (Alexander the Great’s daughter died here). It was an 84 km day, a bit much for a first day with such heavily laden bikes but modest hills and a tail wind made it doable. As we got hungry near noon we saw a sign to a restaurant in a distant seaside village that my map clearly indicated a road to rejoin our route. Always being one for the ‘road less travelled’ we went for it. After some delicious fresh grilled fish by the sea we confirmed with the locals the direction to Biga. Our chosen ‘road’ soon deteriorated to the point of two deep tractor ruts through intensively farmed fields. Just as we started to get worried, the main road reappeared in the distance. We’ve since learnt that a 1:250,00 scale map is ostensibly useless and though Google maps on our smart phone is much better neither can it be fully trusted.
As we rode into Biga a young man pulled alongside on his bike and asked if we needed any help. Within 10 minutes he had us talked into coming to stay at his parents home. Omer’s family was warm and gracious. The 6 of us squeezed into their tiny kitchen for a delicious traditional meal followed by laughter-filled conversation with Omer translating. An awesome first day.
It’s now our 7th day on the road – a rest day. We’ve been wet and cold, in dangerous side winds that had us walking our bikes, pushed our bikes up a 3 km dirt hill (bloody Google!)and on rocky cobblestone roads that have us worried for our bikes durability. We visited the ancient cities of Troy (subject of the Iliad), Alexandria Troas, Appolon Smintheion (temple to Athena) and Assos (Aristotle lived there). We’ve slept in modest hotels ($32/night), in derelict campgrounds ($0) and had our first http://www.warmshowers.com stay (Couch Surfing for bikers) with Aysen and her mother in Cannakale (filled with Aussies visiting on Anzac Day commemorating the 100th anniversary of the Battle of Galipoli). We can’t say enough about how well we were received by Aysen. My efforts at being a Warm Showers host last summer absolutely pale in comparison. The Turks have been universally gracious, patient and helpful despite our pathetic attempts at speaking Turkish. The language has us baffled. We repeat the name of the upcoming village a few times and promptly can’t remember it two kilometres down the road…I guess it is an age thing! We leave Kucukkuyu for Ayvalik (see what I mean) in the morning. ‘Thank you’ ( two syllables) is ‘teshekkur ederim’ (six syllables) and so on…..
(Left) Aysen and mom, charming hosts. (Right) Breakfast at their home, Turkish hospitality at its best.
I guess that is enough for now (I can see certain people nodding in agreement) though I could go on about our various cultural observations, our sore butts, the lovely spray-wash toilets (too much info) but no.
OVER THE HILL AND BEYOND 