Wild Weather and Camping in Turkey - Batumi to Cide

2nd of February 2020, Day 172 - 6620kmish (+ a 41km bus ride)

Day 66 - A first taste of the road from Sinop

I was recently asked what's been the best bit of the trip so far, and it kinda stumped me. At first I would have said Kazakhstan, then I remembered how brilliant my week in Kyrgystan had been. Or near Christmas as I was tearing through Azerbaijan, I really thought this is as good as it's gonna get. Then I arrived in Georgia, and it was even better. The real deal. Mountains and wine and camping in the wilderness.

The truth is, every country has felt like the new best place. And if I went back to Kazakhstan it would be the new best place all over again. I'm getting better at taking care of my body, better at being on the road for months on end, better at pausing to enjoy whatever madness is going on around me.

With all that said, Turkey is definitely the best bit of the trip so far. This is as good as it's gonna get, right?

Mountains

Day 153 - The Turkish Border station. Extremely businesslike, had none of the Georgian border's friendly charm.

First thing to remember about Turkey is the Mountains. The whole country is basically one big range, stretching out from Europe to Asian. Right from the border crossing at Sarpi, I knew I was in for some fun. On one side, rows and rows of wild tree-covered mountains, reaching further and further up into the heavens. On the other side the Black Sea (which disappointed me on arrival when I found that although it is very beautiful, it is in fact just a regular blue coloured sea.)

Squeezed in-between the waves and cliff face is the twisting coastal road, which I am still following on the way to Istanbul. At first there are a few big cities, and the road sticks as well as it can to the beach-line. Whenever it couldn't, big long tunnels take you through the mountainside, and back out to the harbors.

Day 154 - Breakfast at Murat's, all food from his garden

First stop, Murat's little self-sufficient shack on the beach. At some point Murat had enough of everything and decided to do strike out on his own. Solar power for electricity, a wood stove for heat, fresh water from a mountain stream, food from his garden and the sea. The idyllic Walden life-style detached from the mess.

Day 155 - Adding to the legacy. First guest of 2020!

I wasn't planning on stopping, but Murat waved me over for tea, which turned into dinner and a place to sleep. Turns out he is a host on the Warmshowers app (like couch surfing but for tour cycling), the walls of the house he made himself covered in messages from all the cyclists and hitch hikers he'd saved over the years from the rain.

Tea

Murat even set me up for the next night, where I slept in the upper room of Mustapha's tea shop in Rize. He is an ex-pro cyclist that does what he can to give back to the community. I shared the floor with Eval, a lovely cyclist from Lithuania heading the other way, who had risked the snow and come over the mountains from the south.

Day 156 - Mustapha and his bike

Day 156 - Eval and HIS bike

That's the second thing you have to know about Turkey. They are absolutely fanatical about tea. Tea is more than a drink here, it's a way of life. At home they have two tea pots stacked on top of each other, one for hot water, the other sat brewing all day. Just about any break justifies pulling out an hourglass shaped glass to have a cuppa. And they don't just drink tea. The whole community gathers around to chat and relax. Even gas stations have a free tea station. I must stop 3 or 4 times a day to have a free brew and an impromptu interview about what the hell I'm doing biking across Turkey in winter.

There are not really pubs here. If people drink alcohol at all, they drink it away from the watchful eyes of the mosques in their own homes. Men don't go and get drunk when they finish work, they go round to their local tea house to play cards or Okey till the early hours of the morning.

Day 164 - An adorable Turkish custom is to walk arm in arm with your best mate,from school children to old men. 

(Okey is a game I've only ever seen played herein Turkish tea houses, with numbered tiles that looks a little like dominos or majong.)

Gimme Shelter

Turkey may or may not officially be in Europe, but it is definitely my first taste of real European hotel prices. All the prices on booking websites are extremely inflated, charging four times as much as I was paying in Georgia. The cheapest you can find are usually not on google maps, 100 lira, and extremely bare bones. It was time to go full-budget mode and start living in a tent.

Day 162 - Beautiful spot overlooking the sea

(For those of you that did the math, yes that's only about 14 pounds. I have been so blessed by the prices in Central Asia, I don't know how I'm gonna adjust back to UK prices when I get home. 7 pounds for a pint?! You can buy a week's worth of food for that in Azerbaijan!)

Thankfully, Turkey is a wild camping paradise. No one really bothers you wherever you pitch your tent. I've come to a point where rather than forcing myself to any kind of target distance, I just cycle as far as I comfortably can each day, then look for a spot to set up. My lack of pre-planning, combined with the sudden rain storms, has led me to sleep in all sorts of weird and wonderful places. To date, I've slept in two abandoned buildings, a cemetery, the floor of a different tea house, the teacher's accommodation of a university, and on the beach outside of Trabzon.

Day 157 - The Beach I almost couldn't get up from

The beach was by far the worst. Trabzon is the biggest city I've been to in Turkey, but I stuck to the seafront and hardly got caught in the mess of traffic on the winding hill roads. The beach there is big smooth stones. I passed out on one of them sticking into me in the wrong way, and woke up at 4am in the worst pain I'd ever been in. My back! I took as much paracetamol as I could, and went out for a pee, all in slow motion, constantly freezing in pain. First time on the whole trip I'd considered going to the Hospital. Ended up listening to a podcast on my side, the only good position I could find, in fetal position, rolling around in anguish every time the sharp stabbing sensations came back.

 

Day 161 - Wet gear drying in my sneaky abandoned beach resort camp spot

Thankfully the knot in my back dulled enough that I could eventually pack up and ride out, but my back still catches sharply occasionally. Turns out my body is getting old. I can ride 100km in a day no problem, but one rock can have me in agony for days.

Day 167 - Camping in a graveyard

Sinop

Day 163 - The view from the peninsula looking down on Sinop  

Day 162, I finally arrived in paradise, which turns out to be located in the old castle town of Sinop. To set the scene, the day before I'd woken up in an abandoned closed down restaurant, ridden a whopping 90km, and camped on a cliff overlooking the sea. Like I said, Turkey has been brilliant.

Day 162 - The calm before the storm

I wake up to a glorious sunrise, but unfortunately it quickly turns to rain, sheets of rain, and there's nothing to do but keep going. I stop at every gas station I see for tea and to huddle out of the maelstrom, but it shows no sign of slowing. The road then cuts inland to skip a peninsula. Great for the cars I'm sure, but terrible for me. Inland means climbing up mountains. By now my elaborate layers of rain gear have all given through, and everything is soaked. Finally I get to the peak, but I'd been tricked.

The deal you strike with a mountain when cycling is that, yes this climb hurts, but that pain will be paid back to you in full as you glide down the other side. However the wind is blowing into me so hard, that by some cosmic injustice, I'm having to pedal in low gear to force myself down a slope. To add insult to injury, the rain turns to hail, pelting me in the face every time I dare to look up. Which is something you have to do when riding a fully loaded bicycle on a motorway with no hard shoulder. In a word, harrowing.

I pull into a gas station 10km outside of Sinop, looking like a sailor that's been lost at sea for weeks, my last will to live slowly drowning in the bottom of my soggy socks. Despite 2 plastic bags, foot guards, and waterproof shoes, each step comes out as a squelch, leaving muddy puddles behind me. They put me in the staff room next to the heater as I slowly thaw back into the land of the living. Hardly verbal, I somehow transmit that I need a hotel. The guy at the cashier knows a guy. 2km away. 120 lira. Hotel Kuzey. Sounds extremely dodgy, but I'd have payed 1000 lira at that point.

Day 163 - Harbor side of Sinop

Hotel Kuzey is paradise from the first moment I stepped into the room, AC heater blasting at 35°C, Queen-sized bed, with at living room and kitchenette. Then at 8pm, a knock on the door. Not police this time, just the owner Kamil, who comes up to my room to give me a delicious hot creamy cinnamon drink, and have a chat. The next day, Kamil drives me and his father into town, then shows me round the city, built into the ruins of an old castle. The weather is perfect, so we decide to have a drive down the coast.

Day 163 - Stunning view down the coast from Sinop

Kamil is so good at adding details, painting a charming picture of the throngs of tourists and activity in the hot season, despite speaking almost no English. I was born in the sea, he says, Every summer, diving off the cliffs and swimming in the ocean. Each point we stop at is more beautiful than the last. At the very end of the road, down mud paths and gravel, we arrive at the most northern point in Turkey. The sunset on the drive back home almost kills me. I melt into the passenger seat, knowing just for a second that I was having one of those days I'd remember forever.

Day 163 - The most northern point in Turkey

Day 163 - The sunset on the drive home

Camping

At Sinop I had a decision: follow the motorway inland, or stay on the coast. At this time of year, the snow would make it near impossible, below zero temperatures at night, and a 1500m climb for the first 4 days.

Day 166 - Greeted by snow as the road curves briefly inland

I decided instead to follow the rural one lane road snaking up the coast. Well I may have dodged the snow, but I definitely haven't dodged the climbs. The past week has been by far the most challenging and rewarding cycling I've ever done.

The long stretches of beach have been replaced by fjord-like fingers that reach out into the sea, with deep valleys in-between.  Every day I climb a mountain finger, often side-winding up a 10% incline in the lowest gear my bike can manage. Inching up so slowly, I had an old woman carrying a pack of firewood on her back beat me up the hill two days ago. Then I dive down the other side into the valley and do it all over again.

Day 168 - The Fjord fingers sticking out into the sea. You can just about see the road I'd come from half way down the closest mountain on the other side. 

The most painful part is being able to see from the top of one finger to another, no more than 500m away, but an inescapable curving 2km decent and climb stands in your way. In the past 4 days, I've climbed far more than 1500m, and am still stuck at sea level.

Day 167 - Three cyclists who had been going for 9 months, on their way to Indonesia. They warned that with climbs like this I'd be doing 50km at most a day.

Day 168 - A lovely couple going from Belgium to Mongolia who joined me for lunch. Had been travelling for just about as long as me. They reassured me that although the road here is difficult, it's much better than heading inland. 5 cyclists in 2 days, I must be heading the right way.

Here there are no cities, only small villages. Before I stopped here in Cide, I'd camped 4 nights back to back. After a while you settle into a rhythm just like at home. I was finally brave enough to try out my gasoline stove, and now I'm cooking exotic things like pasta. Oatmeal. The sky's the limit. Everything has it's place, my living room under the porch flap, my back garden the sea.

Day 167 - Setting up my handy dandy gasoline stove for morning coffee and breakfast

It's nice feeling so in touch with nature. I know what time it is by the position of the sun. I can feel the change in temperature as I rise and fall through the fjords. I wake up and can feel the wind has changed direction. And this is gonna sound daft, but I never realised the moon moves and changes position through the night sky, just like the sun.

Day 166 - Waking up to frost half way up a fjord finger

But maybe I'm a little too in touch with nature. Four days with out a shower does some interesting things to your body. I'd be riding along thinking, whats that weird smell. Oh right, it's me. Honestly I'm astounded people keep letting me in their cafe's for Kofte and tea.

Day 160 - The Cleric at the local mosque who bought me lunch. Said Christianity and Islam have the same message, and we should work together to bring peace to the world. Then he said we should invade Israel and take back Jerusalem. Real mixed messages, but the Kofte was delicious.

Day 168 - The kindhearted tea house owner on the left who let me sleep on his floor, and his most loyal customer who stayed until 10 and was back in the morning for more.