21/1/25
Every time we woke up it looked a little like the Sun must be coming up. The lights are never turned off. Early in the morning we heard a rustling. It was hard to narrow down what it was, and at one point it seemed to be underneath the tent. We think it was a tiny vole or a mouse. But we don’t know for sure.
It was enough to ensure we weren’t going back to sleep so we packed up fairly swiftly. At least 50 bus and coach loads of people were arriving at the complex. It was probably more. We’d spied a little coffee shop by the petrol station at the bottom and hurried there. The barista was super friendly. We ordered Turkish coffee after staring for a minute at the menu full of americanos and lattes. We sat for a bit enjoying the western music he had playing, it reminded us of home. He offered us çay which we gladly drank. Then he brought us a potato bun to try, and more çay. His treat. We were blown away by his kindness. Not in a million years at home.
We had to get moving eventually. The road wasn’t as busy as it had been first thing in the morning. We stopped to buy ekmek from a bakery. More delicious sesame rings and flatbread of some description. More flat lands to cover first but it didn’t last long. We went past a tomb that was built during the Persian rule of Anatolia. Entirely carved from one piece of monolithic rock, burial chamber inside and all. Amazing. We shared a sesame ring with halva.
We soon took the turning to Foça. Actually both roads went there but this was the quieter road and had an excellent cycle path. There was the first climb in a while too, but then a rushing descent into the town. We passed city walls and windmills on the way down then stopped by the market, prices were cheap again. A kilo of blood oranges and a kilo of apples all for about £1.50. We crossed the cobbles to the harbour and sat on a bench gorging on the fruit.
Once we set off again we realised there was a much nicer place to sit near the castle that graces the shore. We rode the boardwalk round and into the town again. We’d figured a relaxing day and quiet afternoon was on the cards. We needed it. After gathering some food and stopping at another excellent bakery, this time a whole in the wall, we took the coastal road north.
We’d got very used to the flat but now it was time for some spiky hills. 70m at a time, 7%. We took a break at the top of the second one, the third one was only a kilometre away downhill, mere seconds. There was a peninsula just before Fatiha, it looked ripe for exploration and camping.
We pushed our bikes up and down the rocky tracks as far as we dared to find a flattish area for the tent. It was just above a beautiful cove in the bay. It was a far cry from the day before, and even though we’d only covered 33km we didn’t care. The stove was duly lit and we boiled some lentils, we’d been carrying them since Crete, and ate them with plentiful bread and salad. Afterwards we made tea, deliberated on the best site for the tent, grassy but knobbly or flat and rocky (we chose the latter), and sat outside as darkness fell.
We hadn’t seen a soul in 3 hours, apart from a Jandarma boat out at sea, but then we heard voices. Three men were walking out towards us. They spoke extremely good English. One of them was an English teacher and another a Physics professor. The third didn’t speak at all. We told them about our journey. They were fairly stoic. Perhaps they weren’t who they seemed in hindsight. We had passed many military zones on our way up the coast.
We sat outside much later than we normally did. It was so peaceful here. The day before had felt horrible, and this was a healthy reset. The coast provides comfort. Is it instinctual? Is it the fact we’re only exposed in a couple of directions? The sound of water lapped around us. There could be rain tonight. We had more climbing to do for sure, but without it the land is boring and unwelcoming.
As we sat in the tent at around 9, Frankie noticed a flash of light in the sea. We panicked. Surely there couldn’t be another storm. We’d checked the Turkish meteorological site earlier. There was a storm now, but way out to sea. That’s why we could see it popping off in the distance but we didn’t hear thunder at all. We reminded ourselves that the wind was southerly, and we were looking west. It wouldn’t be coming our way. It was still hard to get used to seeing flash after flash of light.
Surly They Won't Make It 