1/2/25
The road got a little bit quieter overnight. The golden hours of silence were between 2am and 5am. The woodland was extremely peaceful otherwise and we didn’t see or hear a soul. We didn’t rush out of bed, we felt fairly satisfied that we’d made a sufficient effort the day before to knock off a good chunk of the miles.
When we did go out we found a foggy world. The clear skies had been replaced by cloud. It was straight back to the highway, and visibility was poor. Perhaps 100m, maybe a little more. We felt a little nervous so we put our brightest clothes on and kept well inside the boundary and f our hard shoulder. The hills were tough after the push we’d made the day before. We took a break after about 10km to polish off the dried fruit we had and finish the, now flat, coke.
We vowed to keep going until we reached the next town. The road had left the sea and headed through some densely wooded areas. All the while we were climbing deeper into the fog. About 20 minutes later we started to see the silhouette of the Sun through the clouds. Could we be in with a possibility of sunny skies?
As we approached the top of the climb, we were bathed in bright sunlight and treated to views of the forests all around us. We raced down the descent gleefully and feeling a lot warmer. It wasn’t far to the town of Baliklicesme.
It felt quiet and rundown as we turned off. We’d chosen to stop here rather than the busy town of Bega further up. As we rolled down the hill into town we weren’t sure we’d made the right choice. We stopped at the first cafe and a man with an apron appeared and asked us what we wanted. We told him we wanted Turkish coffee. He went into the first establishment which was full of men, but then he beckoned us to the other side of the road where there was another establishment, also full of men.
He gestured for us to sit down in the Sun and he joined us to chat. The usual conversation ensued about our journey and what we did for our jobs. Frankie always found the domination of men a bit odd as she was the odd one out. But they didn’t treat her any differently. He was keen to bring us food and we tried to convey our dietary preferences as best we could. He came back with some scones. They probably had butter in them.
After a short while he left. We’d had some Turkish coffee. Another man arrived almost immediately and offered us çay. We were of interest apparently. All the conversation was done with our phone. A magical tool to bypass the language barrier. We reflected later how different it would be without it. They told us of their dislike of the president, that Ataturk, the first leader, would always be their president. It was interesting, no one likes their leaders any more.
After our lengthy conversation, we felt we had to depart. We tried to pay but everything had been paid for us. We felt a little guilt. We almost certainly had more money than they did. But they were very firm. We were their guest.
After we left it was still joyous sunshine on the highway. The next stop was in Biga. It was all fairly flat and nothing happened. Just miles of occasionally stony, occasionally muddy, hard shoulder. People would often go past tooting playfully on their horns and waving at us.
When we got to Biga we headed to a shop and probably bought too much. It always happens that way when you run at all low on supplies. Human instinct. We headed to a park to eat bread and sun-dried tomatoes. Once we got back to the highway we were on a straight, long section in the Sun. To break it up we stopped at bakery which also sold halva and the sheets of dried fruit wrapped round hazelnut paste. We think they ‘touristed’ us. It seemed expensive.
We were headed to Denizkent, where the road met the sea again albeit briefly. It offered us the best chance to find an easy campsite we thought. As we climbed the hill into Sinecki, we could see a dark cloud above. Was it rain? It wasn’t. As we got to the village we became shrouded in cloud again. This hill was blocking the fog. This village was bleak. We hoped we’d get back the Sun in Denizkent. We didn’t.
It was another sad beach town. Deserted in the winter. There was nothing here but the occasional picnicker. Some of them appeared to be simply sat staring into the foggy abyss. We thought it unusual. We scouted along the beach before settling on a covered area next to a play park. We fired up the spirit burner and heated some water for our noodles. All the while trying to keep warm. It was stupidly cold now.
The air was thick with moisture. Once we’d set the tent up on the grass and the Sun had set we could see the water in the air with our head torches. Everything was immediately wet. It made us a bit nervous about the next day, we had to climb higher again. We were trying to book the ferry to Istanbul, but the website was broken.
We organised accommodation in Istanbul, and decided to try and get someone at a petrol station to call the ferry company, IDO, for us, potentially. Who knows? We nestled in the tent out of the wet and the cat that had been demanding our company and stealing our food. As we went to sleep we were filled with nervous excitement for the idea of getting to Istanbul the next day. It was another one of those destinations that felt like it would be a special achievement.
Surly They Won't Make It 