Out of Asia

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Always been a bit dubious about drinking wine from a plastic bottle but here in Turkey the plastic bottle gets a thumbs up.Its good cheap stuff and in true 'gentlemen of the road' fashion we've converted one into a water bottle.Big wine producing region here in the west,with the harvest in full flow there are tractors racing around the roads and people from the east working hard in the vineyards and spreading tonnes of grapes on every available patch of ground to dry for raisins.
After a brief stop in Egirdir which is a cracking little lake town with no fish in the lake but plenty on the menu we began to finally drop off the plateau.Denizli lies at 350m and nearby houses the tourist hot spot of Pamukkale.God knows how many pensions there are in this ugly little village but judging by the speed we got the price down we're either getting good at haggling or there are too many of them.Our pension(like all the others) had a pool ,which sold us straight away.I was tempted to ride my bike into it like some kind of poor man's Keith Moon but thought better of it as there was no shallow end.
Pamukkale(cotton castle) is a big hill covered in white mineral deposits formed from the ancient springs at the top which also houses the ruins of the old Roman city of Heriapolis.Its also covered in tourists,many on day trips from the coast,especially Russians who are instantly recognizable as the ones in their pants (and I don't mean trousers).You just know they are like this for 90% of their holiday,in the restaurant,at the supermarket, visiting the mosque.In this Muslim world I find it a bit tasteless.What they need is an all in one burqua,basically a huge burqua that they all fit under with air vents for cigarette smoke and windows for the photos.Kind of like a communal holiday niqab.The tour groups are a strange lot.They move like a whirlwind of clicking cameras from the bus to the main sites and are gone again in minutes.I don't wanna end up like one of them, a speedo clad , flip flop wearing freak show jumping from one photo option to the next,posing like some kind of hairsprayed simian in front of something I will never understand.
''Wow Natalia what a great monument,what is it ? ''
''How should I know Igor , but look at the way I flash my hair,are'nt I just amazing''
Not really getting under the skin of a country rather crawling all over it like an itch.

The headwind we've been experiencing since Konya seems only to get stronger the futher we plod north.On we went through endless vineyards finding camp spots easily and the farmers relaxed.Worlds away from pitch fork wielding angry British farmers who start crying when they find you on their land.England's a small place and walls were put up aeon's ago much like the brains and mentality of modern day farmer Giles.Luckily farmer Mehmut doesnt mind us,in fact quite the opposite.Our main concern is a late start after invites for breakfast have been met.A great way to start the day full of tea and homemade jam and bread'farmer Giles take notes why dont you.
Personally I blame religion,Islam, in the right hands only serves to honour and respect its guests.Its a shame that news channel's use the relatively few bad apples to stir up the sort of shit countries like America lap up. With a growing tide of Islamaphobia where half the population think their President is an Arab Muslim,Americans should take time out and come to a country like Turkey to witness for themselves hospitality in its purest form.
I was writing about a bike trip a minute ago!Headwinds get you thinking,mainly about taking a bus or a train but sometimes about politics and occasionally about ant sleep or if cows drink milk.Surely they do!
Our ride took us out of the grapes and into the olive groves as the ground became drier,rocker and hilly.Still made for great camp spots though because the ground has just been ploughed in ready for the coming harvest.Trouble is ,lurking at the edge of every road is a thorn we encountered in Argentina called rosado.Over here its called demir bitrak, or iron thorn due to its totally unacceptable behavior of becoming just that when they dry(and they are very dry now).Every morning bar the odd exception one of us is fixing a puncture.Well, we do own shite tyre's.I reckon if you total up our four tyre's of varying quality we'd be able to buy a Schwalbe sticker for one of our frames.With inner tubes looking more like a teenagers face we limped into Bergama and luckily met Idin the owner of Athena pension a lovely hundred year old Ottoman house.There were even English people there ,the first we've seen since Phil and Deli in Almaty. We made them talk to us,in hindsight I guess we came across a bit too 'serial killer' and I suppose on reflection we shouldnt have locked them in our room..... in the cupboard.
More roman ruins on top of more hills here at Pergamon.Constructed by one of Alexander the Greats generals in 300BC,it ticked all the boxes, nice view,Acropolis pillars,theatre,tour groups(no pants this time) and nice places to find without the latter, like the mosaic's back down towards Bergama.Another great stop off and well worth the visit.
Pushing on from Bergama it was'nt long before we were riding alongside the blue waters of the Aegean with the Greek island of Lesvos away in the distance.Something of a yardstick for us as it marked our first official sighting of the EU and our last landmass to get across before doomsday, or as other people call it ''work''.
The end of Ramazan festivities were under way.Here its called Bayram and up until a few years ago it was mainly a tradition of giving sweets to kids.These days though the kids are after a much harder currency than candy as gangs of well groomed boys roam the streets on a religious beg.We were approached more than once as we stopped for a break along the coast and I felt I needed to point out my religious differences as I turned each outstretched hand down.Bah Humbug!!
Ramazan is a lot more liberal here in Turkey than, say Morocco for example.They seem quite proud to be able to choose for themselves,something I can relate too.Interesting though it was we were quite glad the buzz has returned to the day time with cafes filling up and normal life resuming.

Behramkale is a beautiful stone village at the foot of the ruins of Assos.Here we stayed at the 'Ass'os end of town at Oz camping in the olive grove right on the shore line.We've been hanging on a bit for some money of Tati's to clear in the bank and now that its here we went out for a fish supper on the coast.It seems the posher Turkish restaurants have that ridiculous habit of bringing dishes out one at a time.So our fish and chips became fish,then chips.Tasted ok though and there was free chai for the cock up.
After visiting the ruins of Assos which,by the way have a stunning view of the Aegean and the Greek island of Lesvos we headed on toward Troy, opting for the quieter but longer route along the coast.Had we known it would of added 45km to an 85km ride we probably would of changed plans.Not a bad ride though , heading through hilly village life where the olive tree was king ,we even stumbled (read ,went the wrong way ) across a village Bayram celebration.
The sight of the local women dressed in colourful clothes wearing golden jewelry and the boys in their Sunday best with money pinned to their shirts gave me a real sense of our last Asian experience.
Our last day in Asia began like a European winter.Rain lashed down around our olive grove camp as thunder boomed and lightning fizzed in the air.It was a stop start day riding between the showers with the headwind becoming more and more fierce as we picked our way slowly back to the main road on a frustratingly meandering road.There must be a quicker way to Troy than this but all our rants about a short cut were dismissed by the Turks who, to a man only take the sealed roads.
Is it worth a visit to Troy?Legendary city of Homers Iliad.Definitely! Sure its not as complete as many of the other historical places in this part of the world but non of those places has half of the history of this 5000 year old settlement.They've even got a wooden horse.One bloke we met a while back told us you have to know a bit about the place to make it worth while.I think he was bigging himself up a bit much as there were plenty of information plates in and around the small museum that told us of the nine different Troy's that have stood here over the years.And if youre into strata archeology (lets face it who isn't) then this is the place to be.
Was there a Trojan war and a wooden horse? Probably not!Its still worth a visit and that's from the horses mouth.Horses that rode an extra 45km to get here. Not sure about sore achilles, our whole legs were aching.
Enough Trojan metaphors for now.The final push to Canakkale was hampered by strong winds and cold, cold temperatures.Started to think summer was over and we wood (sorry Troy again) have this til England.
Our spirits warmed somewhat when we climbed our final Asian hill to look out over the Dardanelles straight busy with ships coming and going through the channel that divides mainland Europe from the Asian landmass.
Darkness was descending as we boarded the ferry that would take us back to European soil.15800km, half our entire trip, has been in Asia.Ten countries,eleven months and enough honks on the horn to raise the Titanic.What a ride.

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Photos

Athena pension
100 yr old Ottoman house in Bergama

Tati with local ladies
dressed for bayram celebrations