We woke early to complete peace. As the first brew went on, the sun rose over the lake, the line of clouds causing shafts of light reminiscent of resurrection paintings, glinting on the water. 

Many people find it difficult to understand why we like camping – and wild camping is something totally incomprehensible – but this little campsite is just why we do it. A spot with views of snow capped mountains and sunrise over the lake with complete peace just cannot be found in any hotel. Being able to stop when we like – or at least when we can find a flat piece of ground and access to water – and not have to battle on to the next to the next town has its benefits. Being (nearly) completely self sufficient feels like real freedom compared to our usually ordered life. So after leisurely drinking tea whilst watching the sun get higher and packing up, we were treated to an hour and a half of perfect cycling.  The sun came out and the little road wound round the edge of the lake. The water showed extraordinary colours of turquoise and aquamarine. A huge variety of birds flew up from reed beds as we passed by – including white, black and grey storks and various birds of prey that we could not identify. And in all that time we saw less than half a dozen vehicles. We felt we just had to suck it up and savour the experience.

However, days are often variable and the next section turned drizzly and the road was not very interesting. We got a bit cold and our legs were tired from the previous day. We pressed on for 50km to the lakeside town of Beysehir and in all that time we didn’t pass a tea shop. We did not think that was possible in Turkey – but part of the reason was that the new road by-passed various villages. There are lots of new roads in Turkey – they are investing big time in travel infrastructure as we have seen new rail lines as well. It means our maps are often inaccurate and we spend periods cycling along pre-tarmac roads which are hard on the bikes (and hard on us)

In the town of Beysehir we found a pleasant restaurant and decided to have a proper meal and spend an hour recuperating. Whilst we were in the street David was stopped by a woman who had lived in the town for 12 years but grew up in Doncaster. It was strange to hear a south Yorkshire accent in Turkey. She said – no doubt accurately – that she was the only English person in the town and probably in the wider area. She said that Germans and Norwegians came to see the famous mosque, and even the occasional person from the US, but never any English. She had married a Turk in England and moved over permanently with him. She had spotted the small Union Jacks on our flags and came to say hello – which was great. She strongly recommended we see Esrefoglu Camii and gave us directions.
We then headed to Esrefoglu Camii – a mosque built in 1297 – so I think that counts as pretty old. It was a truly amazing building and very well preserved. The inside is wooden with wooden columns and capitals. The entrance is of carved stone and the inner entrance beautifully tiled. It was an experience to see it and felt very simple and peaceful.

  
  
  
Eventually it was time to move on from Beysehir and away from the lake. We took a cut through road to the more minor road to Konya which turned out to be 15km of bone rattling road which was being prepared for tarmac surfacing but apart from one small stretch had none! At last we reached the main road – only to find that the road that was marked on our maps as a minor scenic road was a new big dual carriageway! Well sometimes these things happen but it was a bit of a disappointment! We battled against the wind then up to a big climb. By now we wondering where we would be able to get off the fenced dual carriageway to camp. From the top of the climb there were some road works and we were able to coast down the newly paved side that wasn’t yet open to traffic and at the bottom there was a little track leading to a river, a little bridge and a beautifully placed flat camping spot! We went for it! Not quite as idyllic as last night as although the setting is lovely we are accompanied by the roar of traffic but you can’t always have the perfect spot!

We set up camp, cooked and then as I was washing up the cows came by – with some taking a close interest in our food bag. I chased around shooing them away to the amusement of the farmer (who had sort of warned me, I think. Then his “boy” came up at the rear and was highly amused to see us camping in his field (no permission of course because there was no one to ask). We exchanged simple words and took his photo – showing him on the camera to his great delight.

Today delivered so much more than it promised. I am typing this in our tent on a lovely pitch, just off the road with views of Lake Beysehir on one side and Mount Dipoyrax on the other side.

   
 The day did not promise much because the forecast was for more or less continuous rain. We paid up and said our goodbyes to the eclectic cast of characters at the hostel many of whom felt like friends. We were – after all – fully at home with a bunch of eclectic travellers. The hostel owner assured us that our route topped out at 1650m – not 1800m as Googlemaps suggested. Sorry to report that local knowledge was not 100% accurate but we topped out at 1804m – and felt every one of those extra 154m we had to climb. But more accurate than the tea shop owner in Karadilli who told us that an 80km ride was only 30km.
Anyway we breakfasted and set off in the gloom but without it actually raining. Th road was largely flat for about 10km and then the climbing started. We climbed from 900 1300m and then went down, and up and down and so on. Only touring cyclists know how irritating it is when roads cannot make up their minds whether to go up or down. One feels like saying – just do one thing or another but don’t keep changing your mind! However the road followed the valleys and the ground undulated and so the road followed suit.  

 After 30km and with rain now falling heavily we reached the nondescript town of Aksu. There are lots of Turks who have worked in Germany and assume that any foreigner can speak German.  Confession time – I have only failed one exam in my life and that was O Level German in 1976. I was taught by Herr Fifer who was a jewish German emigrant who hated the Germans with a passion but had to teach this hated language as his only way of making a living. He took it as a mark of accomplishment whenever a student failed as it was one in the eye to his persecutors. I was a spectacular success for him with my D overall but my U for the oral. All this came back to haunt me in the tea shop in Aksu.

Having just about made oral progress, we paid up for the excellent tea and headed off in search of Aksu’s main attraction – the Zindan Cave. This is a remarkable fissure which goes 750m into the mountainside. It is a narrow cave to walk along, well lit with fantastic stalactites and stalagmites.  

   
   
As we emerged the sun came out and the rain clouds appeared to have temporarily abated. It was overcast but dry as we cycled back to the village and picked up the road to Yenisarbademli. We knew there was a mega limb to get there and started to ascend. But then the road started to descend again – and dropped by a full 200m to about 1180m. We must have crossed the 1200m marker about 10 times during the day. 

   The valley was stunning and started to feel pretty remote and then, eventually, we began the BIG climb. This was 750m of continuous up – and in parts it was very steep. But most was 10% or less and so we trudged up over the next 2 hours watching the landscape change in that imperceptible way that it does wen one is going at 5km per hour. Lots of stops, photos and drink breaks and we made it to the top. The scenery was reminiscent of both Greece and California – high mountains surrounding the valley, fir trees and sandy soil and sparse vegetation. It felt remote and the road was very quiet.  

   The descent was, of course, over in no time. We passed Yenisarbademli and camped a few km on, by the lake. It’s a lovely spot between the lake and the mountains even if, as we suspect, we are the first and only people to have ever camped here. We cooked, brewed coffee and tea and ate chocolate (thinking of and speaking to Pippa who has exams tomorrow). Last year it was Ant and next year it will be Becky on her Masters. It never seems to stop for them.
Anyway with double sleeping bags we hope we will be cosy all night. I type this as the dark has come and the wind has got up. If we get blown away this will be the last blog!

After 6 days on the bikes we already seem to have passed a lifetime since we left Birmingham airport but being the 7th day it was time for a rest for body and mind to recuperate and attend to mundane things such as washing. We couldn’t have chosen a better place. After a week of talking more or less only to each other, Charly’s Pension was a melting pot of nationalities. We met people from England, Germany, Khazacstan and Brazil. We booked to go on a trip arranged by the Pension to the ancient ruins of Sagalossus deep in the Taurus mountains and 6 of us set off in a minivan. It was rather strange to be whizzing along in a motorised vehicle!
  
The Site of Sagalossus was amazing. It must be in one of the best settings we’ve ever been to, perched high on the mountains overlooking a valley below. For anyone who has ever been to Ephasus or similar and battled with coach loads of tour groups this was completely the opposite. A few cars in the car park, a few people dotted around the enormous site and we were free to wander around pretty much anywhere. 

   
 We climbed first right to the top of the site to the 9000 seater ampitheatre that looked down on the whole site and over mountains and valleys, The city had been mostly destroyed in an enormous earthquake in 560 AD and completely abandoned not long after following an outbreak of plague. It was rediscovered in the early 1700’s but true excavation has only been relatively recent and still on going, Most of the seating of the ampitheatre was intact but you could see how large parts of the structure had tumbled down in the earthquake and lay scattered, Above the ampitheatre they had just started to excavate a large area containing pottery workshops, which produced pottery on an industrial scale for across the Roman empire. Fragments of 2000 year old pots were scattered everywhere. 

  
 Working our way down were market places, arches, burial sites, monuments and an incredible fountain. “Fountain” is an understatement as it was a whole ornately carved facade. It was only re-attached to a water source in 2010 to become a working fountain again. The place was atmospheric and well set out and we really enjoyed the visit.

After the cultural influx we had lunch in a cafe in the village below and then were driven on a longer route back through the mountains on small winding roads. A foretaste of what we would be tackling the next day.
Back in Egidir we brought additional cheap sleeping bags to supplement our current ones. More weight but we were going to even higher altitudes so decided we needed them, I am sure we will be grateful for them before the trip is out. We finished the day with a pleasant meal and fascinating conversation with Debbie from England and Aray from Kazakhstan (who is the same age as Becky). Feeling rejuvenated for our next section, 3 days to get to the city of Konya.

I am sitting typing this by a stunning lake in a pension – totally exhausted but with a totally unmerited feeling of accomplishment. We woke in our informal campsite when the sun came in about 5.30. That may sound early but we had turned in about 9pm and had slept well, not so cold.

  
Breaking camp has a rhythm which we have re-discovered over the last few days but from opening eyelids to leaving on the bikes is never less than 1 hour, 15 minutes but of course it can be longer. This morning it all seemed to work and we left just after 7. The road was flat(ish), quiet and the early morning air was still. As I ambled along the thought occurred to me that this was almost perfect. Storks flew low overhead, farm workers waved as we passed fields of white poppies and the road ambled ahead with very little traffic.  

  
After 15km the flat lands ended and we faced a tough 150km climb. Bottom gear and just head down to the top. In fact it was not too bad – partly because it was still early.. Then we found ourselves in a wonderful valley – the pictures will tell the story.

  
After 30km we reached the town of Karadilli. It was Friday and market day. There were wonderful smells coming from a bakery at the edge of town so we followed our noses and bought bread and mini-pizzas. Then to the centre where we had tea “iki cay lutfen” ( 2 glasses of tea please) from a cafe by the market. Two things make this memorable. First, the imam came over the loud speaker with prayers (at maybe 10am) and everyone stopped and held their hands in prayer. All of the men in the cafe stopped talking, gripped their hands facing them upwards and listened to the words in silent prayer. It showed how deep Islamic belief permeates society here.

    
Secondly, the tea shop owner spoke some English and was very friendly. He had worked at a hotel in Kusadasi on the coast and so spoke some English and German – as he demonstrated to us. He wanted to hear a bit about our trip but assured us that Egidir was “30km” away. We suspected that it was nearer 70km but said nothing. However he had obviously thought about this and came back a second time to say “many hills, many hills”. It was 70km (as we found out later) and this told us a great deal about how far people travelled.

  
Fed with tea and cheese slices – also from the wonderful bakery – we left and faced the big climb of the day. It started gently to get us into the feel of the climb and then was very steep as we climbed from 1100km to 1440km. Again the pictures tell the story.

    
The descent was 10km of the best descending I can recall. 50km per hour swinging round corners on a decent road with stunning views of the valley and the lake below. The road took us across the valley floor and then alongside the vast Lake Egidir. Lunch by the lake was mainly cold pizza – which may not sound good but was just what we needed. Then it was an undulating road along the lake for 45km to the lakeside town of Egidir. Great views but tough cycling as the road was a series of small but steep climbs and descents.

    
We booked ourselves into Charley’s Pension and had a shower and got clean after 2 days camping. We had dinner, bought a new sleeping bag from the outdoor shop (this is a big walking and trekking centre) and met the fellow residents of the pension. We were back (temporarily) in tourist country which has its advantages and drawbacks. However we are tourists but, like drivers in a traffic jam blame “traffic” without seeing themselves as part of the traffic (or at least I feel like that), we don’t feel we are tourists when we are in places that other tourists rarely venture. It is a comfortable illusion of course.

We woke at 6am with frost on the ground and both feeling a little cold in the night. Our 3 season tent and sleeping bags did not quite manage a very cold night at 1000m following a thunder storm where everything got wet and a very stiff breeze. Our night was also broken by the croaking of frogs, judging by the noise they made they must all very wide mouthed frogs! However the view in the morning with mist over the lake was magical. 

 Having packed up our first mistake of the day was to decide to make our way up to the road on a little track we had seen and our second mistake was not to turn back when the track turned into a quagmire. It took us half an our to push the bikes up by which time everything was caked in clay/mud and we got filthy getting it all off the bikes, trailers and shoes! However we eventually made it back to the main road and had a lovely ride in crisp bright sunshine along a beautiful valley.

  
Our route was along the Phrygian Way and ruins were dotted along the way but none actually along the main road. When we saw that the main sight was 18km off the road we decided our cultural interest in this ancient civilisation did not extend to a 30km round trip, especially after our morning experience of being ‘off road’! We carried on and started climbing out of the valley, ending at a flat plateau with a picnic area and water trough flowing with mountain water that allowed us to clean up ourselves and our bikes a bit better.

We then had a long downhill and flat road across the valley to the city of Afyronkarahisar, stopping for Cay at a nondescript little town along the way.

  
 Our aim in the city was to try and get additional sleeping bags to pad our our current ones as we didn’t fancy another cold night. This was a false hope though as such a thing did not appear to exist so we settled for buying some body warmers (with hoods as hats also did not appear to exist either) and decided that this would do.
We set off again into the late afternoon sun and had a stiff climb – our first continuously in bottom gear. Panting and rather wobbly legged we made it to the top and could see our destination, the town of Suhut, in the valley below, The last 12km in double quick time down hill. Still a bit worried about the cold (we were now at 1100m) we thought we would see if there was a hotel in town. The problem with the Turkish being so helpful it took three quarters of an hour to establish that there wasn’t but that we could camp in the local park. We decided that was a bit too public so we stocked up on provisions and headed a few km out of town, turned down a side road and then down a little track (dry) to a flat area in the middle of fields. Not as picturesque as camping by the lake but pleasant and considerably warmer and we were treated to a lovely sunset.

Day 4: Eskisehir to a camping spot by a lake near Kirka: 72km and 650m of climbing
Today started slowly – on purpose. We were in too nice a place and too comfortable a hotel to get off quickly. So we ambled around, had a leisurely breakfast and then went back to see the mosque in the morning light. It was stunning as before but also seemed to have different textures to the stone than the night before. 

  
We wandered around the old quarter, got lost and then found our way back to the hotel.
  
We packed and got on the road by 11, which is seriously late to start the day (but then we only planned a shortish day). The sky was overcast and the road from the city climbed for the first 15km from 800m to about 1050m. It was high altitude plain but was intensively cultivated. Can you imagine cultivated fields at 3000 feet plus in England. A market garden on top of Hellvellyn for example. But we are a long way south, I suppose.

  
After 40km we dropped into the plain town of Seyitgazi – a town on the plain and a plain town. But the tea was excellent and 2 glasses each came to a total of 2TL – about 50p. Nearly had a total disaster when I knocked over Bernie’s bike by accident and she had left her bar bag open (by accident), and he mobile phone slipped out and down a drain. Luckily it was retrievable and caused much amusement for the locals as they worked out who had the longest, thinnest arm to get hold of it. Our welcoming hero – who spoke a little English (along with our little Turkish) was the hero of the hour.

    
There was a spectacular mosque on a cliff, way above the town but the effort of getting there and its total absence from any guidebook persuaded us to give it a miss. We are, however, getting quite boorish on mosque architecture (just in case this is useful for pub quizzes in the future). Mosques and pubs in the same sentence is probably not wise – now I think about it.

  
As we left the plain town, spots of rain started – the first of this trip. Jackets, over trousers and overshoes all came out and were needed. The temperature plummeted as the thunder and lightening seemed a tad too close. Cycling on steel bikes we felt like mobile lightning conductors and so ducked into a bus shelter for cover. It was also occupied by 2 smoking motorcyclists – and their motorbikes – so was a bit of a squash. We got bored, wet and even colder as the storm raged. It is times like this when we doubt our sanity (appreciating that family and friends have reached an unfavourable but clear verdict on that long ago). Anyway the bikers finally left and so did we, tempted by better light in the direction we were headed. Eventually the rain eased, the sun tried in a pathetic way to come out and we carried on up the valley. It topped out at 1113m – our high point of the trip so far.  

  
More rain was threatening so we pressed on down the hill towards another nondescript town, and then on a side road to a lake where we set up camp. The sky cleared, the sun came out and the spot was made for camping. I am writing this sitting in our (new) tent (where the poles have not snapped) after a lovely meal (could have eaten a horse between 2 bread vans of course) but feeling content. 

  
 Tomorrow promises Phrygian ruins and more – but that can wait to tomorrow. 

Today started slowly – on purpose. We were in too nice a place and too comfortable a hotel to get off quickly. So we ambled around, had a leisurely breakfast and then went back to see the mosque in the morning light. It was stunning as before but also seemed to have different textures to the stone than the night before. We wandered around the old quarter, got lost and then found our way back to the hotel.
We packed and got on the road by 11, which is seriously late to start the day (but then we only planned a shortish day). The sky was overcast and the road from the city climbed for the first 15km from 800m to about 1050m. It was high altitude plain but was intensively cultivated. Can you imagine cultivated fields at 3000 feet plus in England. A market garden on top of Hellvellyn for example. But we are a long way south, I suppose.
After 40km we dropped into the plain town of Seyitgazi – a town on the plain and a plain town. But the tea was excellent and 2 glasses each came to a total of 2TL – about 50p. Nearly had a total disaster when I knocked over Bernie’s bike by accident and she had left her bar bag open (by accident), and he mobile phone slipped out and down a drain. Luckily it was retrievable and caused much amusement for the locals as they worked out who had the longest, thinnest arm to get hold of it. Our welcoming hero – who spoke a little English (along with our little Turkish) was the hero of the hour.
There was a spectacular mosque on a cliff, way above the town but the effort of getting there and its total absence from any guidebook persuaded us to give it a miss. We are, however, getting quite boorish on mosque architecture (just in case this is useful for pub quizzes in the future). Mosques and pubs in the same sentence is probably not wise – now I think about it.
As we left the plain town, spots of rain started – the first of this trip. Jackets, over trousers and overshoes all came out and were needed. The temperature plummeted as the thunder and lightening seemed a tad too close. Cycling on steel bikes we felt like mobile lightning conductors and so ducked into a bus shelter for cover. It was also occupied by 2 smoking motorcyclists – and their motorbikes – so was a bit of a squash. We got bored, wet and even colder as the storm raged. It is times like this when we doubt our sanity (appreciating that family and friends have reached an unfavourable but clear verdict on that long ago). Anyway the bikers finally left and so did we, tempted by better light in the direction we were headed. Eventually the rain eased, the sun tried in a pathetic way to come out and we carried on up the valley. It topped out at 1113m – our high point of the trip so far.  
More rain was threatening so we pressed on down the hill towards another nondescript town, and then on a side road to a lake where we set up camp. The sky cleared, the sun came out and the spot was made for camping. I am writing this sitting in our (new) tent (where the poles have not snapped) after a lovely meal (could have eaten a horse between 2 bread vans of course) but feeling content. Tomorrow promises Phrygian ruins and more – but that can wait to tomorrow. 

(Bernie) Today was a great day. It all fitted together amazingly and we both felt much better. It is astonishing how quickly the body adapts and gets fitter – so although in those moments of half sleep before the alarm went off my body was telling me not to get up, once we were up and going it all went well.  

  
We headed out of Bilecik in good time – coasting downhill – and losing almost 250m of hard gained height – to the valley bottom. We tried to enjoy it and blot out of the mind that this means having to gain all this height back again and more. We were soon climbing on the road to Sogut, a lovely quiet road into beautiful landscape. Not saying the climbing wasn’t hard but the weather was cooler and the air was getting fresher as we got higher, which helped.

  
Sogut was very conveniently placed for elevens’s and we stopped in this pleasant little town with cobbled streets. I still have to get used to being the only woman in a cafe and getting odd looks (well that could be the lycra shorts and bright pink T shirt). As everywhere in this part of the world, there are men sitting in cafes conversing and passing the time and drinking tea. Good social interaction and far healthier than sitting in pubs. The women presumably drink tea at home. In spite of what we hear about Turkish coffee, very little coffee appears to be drunk. But the tea, served in little glasses, is delicious and refreshing. We stocked up with some supplies then it was steeply up out of town. We had a minor mishap when we thought the road we were on joined up with the main road. But in fact came to a halt by a steep bank with the main road just above us! We manhandled the bikes and trailers up the bank and managed to get on to the road without mishap! This section of the road climbed up into an area reminiscent of alpine meadows with herds of sheep along the way and fantastic views. We were reached over 1000m we allowed ourself to stop for lunch and had a lovely picnic.  

  
The afternoon run was relatively easier with no prolonged climbing. Wild flowers were in abundance and crickets chirping. The scenery gradually changed to become sparser as we started a whizzy downhill to the next main valley that we were to follow to the city of Eskisehir. A large motorway cut along the valley but David managed to navigate a lovely back road right to the outskirts of the city. We paused at that point to look at the guidebook, googlemaps and booking.com. 

  
 The SIM card we had nearly given up on the evning before came into its own. The best hotel write up in the Guide Book was on booking.com reduced from over £200/night to £37! Those of you who know me will know I like a bargain, and this really was one! Then as a loyal member of the site it dropped even further.
Navigating cities can be a nightmare but we found out way there pretty easily, The city had a lovely feel – clean wide streets lined with trees and flower, a good bike path along some of the way. We stopped just to find the last bit of the way and, as now seems inevitable, a man asked us if he could help. We were in fact very close to the hotel but he made sure we got there with a friendly wave goodbye, No hassle, not wanting anything in return.

    
The hotel was amazing. It is a listed historic ottoman building with rooms round a series of courtyards. Our room has an amazing original panelled ceiling. There are even fluffy dressing gowns! We really will camp tomorrow……..perhaps.
After reviving and resting we set out to explore. The hotel is in an old district of wonderfully ottoman buildings. We found a stunning old mosque, next to a caravansari (a hostel for travellers) with cavernous ceilings! There was an old education centre where a choir was practising ancient music. This is where the “whirling dervishes” come from – an islamic monastic sect with strict rules including a 1000 day initiation process. We didn’t see any dancing but there were lots of photos.

  
Then to dinner in town – a traditional bistro with meses and shish kebab. You just point and they bring it! No prices and goodness knows if we were charged a “special rate” or not but it was fine and the end to a great day.

If yesterday was a taster to get us back into the feel of cycle touring again, today was the real thing. Sitting in a cafe this evening every part of my body aches and I am desperate to be horizontal. I know that I am getting fitter and total exhaustion is part of the process of getting there – but maybe there are easier ways to be on holiday.

  
But – and it is a big “but” – it was a brilliant, fascinating day which brought out the best and worst of Turkey. We started with a climb and then noted a problem with my front derailleur – the mechanism that changes the chain between the front chainrings. As we were about to start a 500m climb this was IMPORTANT. Not being able to get into bottom chainring on a 10%+ climb with a 25kg trailer is a degree of masochism I will forgo. They are tricky things – another casualty of the flight handling I think. Anyway 40 minutes later it was stripped down, rebuilt and working (well good enough).  

  
The road climbed above Lake Iznik, giving some brilliant views. Then, after about 400m of climbing, we called a halt at a group of huts. There were some workmen who we asked for water – and in true Turkish style insisted we had both tea and water. Relieved, we sipped tea and tried to converse in a limited way. 

  
Many thanks at this spontaneous hospitality and we were on our way. Up and over the top at 550m and then whizzing down at high speed on this excellent but largely empty road to Yenisehir – a dusty but affluent town. This is a fertile part of Turkey. The fields are productive and many of the cars all look in good condition. There are still farmers coming in to town on tractors, with women in the back in full dress for the wind and dust, but we have seen hardly any full burkas. Lots of head scarfs on young women – and there are lots and lots of young people. Large families are still common and there are happy children and young people everywhere, to a far greater extend than at home.
The mission in Yenisehir was to find a bike shop and get Bernie’s saddle fixed after the damage caused in transit. My string repair at the airport would only last so long. We paused to wonder which way to go and immediately asked by a friendly young man, Samet, if he could help and he guided us to a bike shop. The wonders of googetranslate! The repair took an hour or so – and we had tea whilst they fashioned the piece from scratch that was missing. Ultimate ingenuity – “Turkish” said the repair man proudly at the end clearly proud of both his work and his country. It cost TL10 – about £2.50 for that brilliant job – and some smiling photos. 

  
Then to Samet’s shop to buy sausage – which was delicious. He is a 21 year old butcher and has a wife and (I think) a child on the way. He expressed his endless admiration for Bernie who, we reckoned, was probably older than his mother, and was cycling across his country. He guided us out and we said our goodbyes. If he is reading this (and we gave him the website) – he is a credit to his country.

  
The road took us across the valley and then we stopped by a stream for lunch, just before the next big climb. The temperature was now between 35 and 40 – climbing to 41 degrees at the height of the afternoon. We were at 320m and had to climb to just shy of 700m. It was a tad tough – but with lots of breaks we did it. The scenery was hazy and difficult to photo, but more vegetables and corn growing along the road. Beautiful and green with lot of wild flowers.
The road was a mixture of old and new. The new was dual carriageway with a good shoulder but the old parts had tight corners. Lack of any ability to see around the corner did not stop some trucks overtaking. Others showed patience and overtook when it was clear. There was one near accident – not involving us. An on-coming truck came around the corner to see a truck on its side of the road as it had just overtaken us. Screeching of brakes, on coming truck slides to the edge (well slightly off) the road and no one bats an eyelid. Just another day on the roads. But they all give us a very wide berth and most beep their horn in a friendly way. The impatience is just a potential for accidents.

  
Eventually we dropped off the plateau and into the town of Bilecik – a modern, friendly place, with its wealth built on aluminium smelting. We planned to camp but were too knackered to go any further so found a cheap hotel. We were starving, which probably did not help our state of collapse, but passed the Turk Telecom shop and decided to get a SIM card for our ipad mini. If we had known the process would take an hour we wouldn’t have bothered but aided again by the google translate app we got through it and got it all working. Finally we ate and then collapsed at last. Fitness will return but the process of getting there seems harder each year.

So, it was time for the off. A pleasant breakfast at the hotel with the glimpse of the Blue Mosque minarets from its top floor restaurant probably billed as a ‘view’

We packed up and said a friendly good bye to the hotel staff and freewheeled down the hill over the cobbles of the old town to the nearby ferry port. We negotiated getting on to the ferry, a friendly young chap helping us get in the right queue, and we pulled away from Istanbul to cross the Sea of Marmara to Yalova ,thereby avoiding a days ride through Istanbul suburbs (for those new to our blog, ferries don’t count as cheating as you can’t cycle across water).

 
My inability to understand Turkish when booking the tickets on line meant I had booked first class seats (something labelled eco I took to mean economy) so we had a very plush ride!

We pedalled off the ferry and after as brief stop for provisions found our way out of town pretty easily – well there was really only one road, the main road to Bursa, a large dual carriageway but with a broad shoulder we could cycle on so not too bad. I knew we had to go over a ‘hill’ out of Yalova but we hadn’t quite anticipated a 350m climb! It was also 30 C and quite humid and we felt very unacclimatised but as always we got to the top and rewarded with a long downhill to cool us down (again, those of you new to this blog will quickly come to realise our obsession with how many meters climbing we do and the temperature – our other main obsession being food). 

At the bottom of the hill we turned off the dual carriageway and on to a quieter road for the 40km to Iznik, most of it following Iznik lake. To start with our view of the lake was mostly obscured by olive groves and we had our first picnic in the shade of olive trees.

We both admitted afterwards finding the final stint to Iznik tiring and feeling rather alarmed at our level of tiredness after a relatively short day…..but our fitness is what it is and we will get fitter, we will get more acclimatised and the whirlwind of the last few days before departure will fade in to the distance.
We didn’t have out usual rule of it’s raining and so we will get a hotel, so we made up a new rule that we were tired and therefore needed a hotel! Iznik sits at the far end of the lake and we booked in to a hotel with a lovely view over the lake. We were fairly certain we were the only people staying in the hotel so negotiated rather meanly to get a cut price (old habits die hard) – but we paid for the discount when we found we had no hot water (it is being repaired….wait 5 minutes etc etc….). So after a ‘refreshing’ shower we wandered into town. Iznik is a proper buzzing little town with the remains of an encircling roman wall and fortifications, several 14thC mosques and a musuem in what was described as a ‘soup kitchen’ built by a sultan for bis wife. We were unable to clarify what that meant as the ‘soup kitchen’ was a large multi-domed building but along with almost every other building in Iznik it was closed for renovation. 

   
 
We could see Iznik had potential for a good tourist stop but at this point it was well and truly closed! Soo we just enjoyed just strolling around, stopping for Cay and lemonade .

We got  back to the hotel just as a thunder storm passed through (so we didn’t need our new rule after all and could have continued to convince you all we are hardy types and not really here for a holiday…..)
In the evening we strolled out again along the lake shore to find something to eat. Cafes here only do drinks so you need to look for a restaurant. Unfortunately there was a big football match on and the only restaurants were showing the match at full volume and crowded with cheering male supporters. We found a cafe/restaurant which had a menu and had one of those experiences which made us feel we were really back on the road. Every item we pointed to on the menu they did not have, except for one. We didn’t know what it was but ordered two of them and hoped for the best. We ordered with potatoes, which with any luck might be chips but he then came back to say there were no potatoes! Anyway – it turned out to be like a cheese toastie with some salad. OK but we had to fill up on the last of our snickers bars back at the hotel! Note to self….. don’t run out of food!

 (David is writing this). I am writing this on a ferry from Istanbul to Yalova, just across the bay. The sun is shining, it’s Sunday morning and the bikes all seem OK.Yesterday the wonderful Geoff Elliott got up at an impressively early hour to get us to Birmingham Airport. 

  
The flight was a flight – not great but not bad. The business of packing up the bikes and getting and getting them into bags is now very familiar; even if we have not done it for 9 months since the end of the last trip.  

  
As we left the plane in Istanbul we got that hair dryer feeling – walking into heat that we had not experienced for months and feeling it had come from an artificial source. But it was just how it was and how it will be for the next 6 weeks. We packed up the bikes and found that Bernie’s saddle was partially broken. A repair job with string and ingenuity, and we were on our way.  

Getting out of airports the world over involves cycling on a motorway type road, and so inevitably, as we pulled over, the police came to investigate. They were friendly but their first question to me was “How old are you”. The implication from this immaculately presented 30 year old Turkish copper was “What is someone of my Dad’s age doing on a bicycle!”. They also wanted to know where we were going and what we thought of Turkey – so we repeated the often expressed view that we were in the most wonderful place in the world (at least until tomorrow when the geography will slightly change).

A 20km into the Sultanahmet area and back to the small but grandly named “World Heritage Hotel” where we were greeted like returning friends. Perhaps there have not been too many English cyclists staying since we were last here, so there was no danger of confusion. We were also greeted as returning friends at the same restaurant, which is frankly more impressive.  

  
I had worked most of the previous night to get the last of my jobs done. The solicitor who got my written advice that was completed at 4am knows who he is, is probably reading this and I can only hope he will recognise the time the advice was written by its quality. But QC references all done, the last of the item on the To Do list was completed at about the time that the sun came up. So by last night I was fairly knackered but it’s good to be here.

Although it still feels like winter, we are making plans to resume the great cycling adventure before too long. We hope to return to Istanbul on 14 May this year, and then to cycle South East to the middle of Turkey heading towards the Turkish Lake District.

Then we plan to cycle East and then North East towards Georgia finishing at Tbilisi by the third week in June. We may extend the trip to Baku, Azerbaijan if we have time but are more likely to be finishing in Georgia.

Lots of training to be done to get our fitness up to make the trip both possible and enjoyable. However, in the meantime Walk for Life are continuing to do fantastic work for children in Bangladesh and we hope those who read this blog will generously support their work.

Donations can be made via the Charities Aid Foundation at https://www.cafonline.org/charityprofile/walk-for-life-bangladesh/ccregno1140052

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Total from Bewdley:  4735km:  Daily Total:  134km; 1100m of climbing.

Today was the day we made it to our detination for this part of the trip (sorry to ruin the punch line). It was a day that had little else to commend it but was none the less unforgettable. I knew we had at least 130km to go, the forecast was for a continued ferocious headwind and we would be on main roads all day. It was all those, plus the most maniacal 2 hours cycling we’ve ever done.

Continue reading Day 27: Tekirdag to Istanbul →

Total to date:  4601km:  Today – 106km; 1450m of climbing and against the wind all day!

This was, by some measure, the toughest day of our trip. It started fine as we packed up having only been interrupted by one barking dog (and no humans, barking or otherwise) in the night. We were on the road by 7.30am starting from seal level on the northern side of the Gallipoli Peninsular, the Saros Korfezi, where my grandfather fought the Ottoman troops in WW1 (and contracted the TB which finally led to an early death). We began a gentle climb out of the village towards Sarkoy. Did I say “gentle” – well it was to begin with and then got steeper and steeper as we topped out at 320m.

Continue reading Day 2: Kavakkoy to just beyond Tekirdag →

Total to date:  4495km; Today:  120km and 900m of climbing

Today was a mixed day. Principally it was a day dominated by wind – headwinds, side winds, blustery winds and occasional tail wind (see later) but mainly headwinds (of course).

Continue reading Day 25: Alexandroupoli, Greece to Kavakoy, Turkey →