Day 67
Breakfast at the “boutique hotel” (it’s anything but) does not start until 9AM though I thought I’d negotiated an earlier start. In the restaurant I poke my head into the kitchen to see the chef coughing his guts up in the sink. Hmm. I’ll skip breakfast.
It’s mostly downhill to the first major town, where I need to stop for Turkish coffee, breakfast, and some cash. The ATMs all charge an extortionate 9-10% fee, but I’m not sure I’ll get away with card only. In marked contrast to European machines, this one spits out a massive wodge of tiny denomination notes, mostly £2 each, a few £4, nothing bigger.
The roads here are mostly high quality, the difference between major and minor is the width and the undulations. There are HGVs on both, so major roads can be easier as there’s a hard shoulder to ride on. I’m surprised not to have seen any touring cyclists as yesterday and today have been on the only route between Turkey and Bulgaria. Maybe everyone else is just going to Greece? I do meet an Austrian motorcyclist, he’s going to Istanbul then turning to head to Thesalonika.
First impressions are that the landscapes are wider, the villages are populated with numerous men (only men) sitting drinking tea, and everyone I meet is very friendly.
Day 68
Yesterday I pressed on a bit thinking I’d leave a “short hop” to Istanbul. The landscape, however, wants to disagree and it’s getting more and more hilly as I get towards Istanbul. It’s Friday and there are prayers broadcast from loudspeakers even out on the open road.
If I stop to look at the map, someone pops up to tell me “go that way!” or “where are you going?” or just “bravo!” in Turkish. Lots of waves and hoots all the time.
From the outskirts of Istanbul the roads get very hilly, and very hairy indeed. I pass several crashes. It’s chaos, last time I saw driving like this was in Marrakech, and here the roads are wider and fuller and go everywhere. At one point a police car comes right up to my back wheel, blues and twos plus shouting something through a loudspeaker. I think I’m going to get done for being on the wrong road, but they just want to cut round my right to get two cars ahead in the jam.
I call it a day when I reach Istanbul Mall (apparently the largest shopping mall in Europe). At the hotel a guy comes out to meet me and asks where I’ve cycled from. Then there’s a lot of chatter in Turkish, and admiring words to me in English. They all insist on lining up to be photographed with me and my bike.
Day 69
My route takes me through the arse end of Istanbul until suddenly I pop up in a part of the old town with tourists, guided tours, restaurants and tat shops. It’s a lot more sanitised than last time I was here.
I’m not particularly interested in sightseeing, so a ferry across the Bosphorus and onwards. It’s windy, there are numerous steep climbs and navigation is tricky. At the end of the day I’ve not covered much distance and average moving speed is barely over 10 km/h.
Day 70
Oh dear. Delhi Istanbul Belly.
Day 71
I start the day finding my way out of Gedze through a big industrial area, lots of big trucks mostly hanging about for the port, but very smelly. Then a big drop down to follow the Marmara coast up the bay, followed by the path around Lake Sapanca. It’s quite pretty but I have to back track a couple of times (I’ve since updated the blockages on OSM).
The mountains loom in the distance, getting nearer. They look BIG.
Day 72
The route out of Hendek goes through some rolling farmland with quite a few short steep climbs and variable surfaces. It cuts under the motorway quite a few times as there’s only really one way through this valley, then the landscape opens out and it’s flattish for quite a while.
Arriving at the big climb of the day, there’s a Komoot-suggested route which will inevitably go up and down a lot, with some steep sections that I’ll need to walk; and there’s the D100 which will gently rise all the way to the pass at 940 m. I choose the former option: it’s a quiet road and offers great views, but it was also exactly as expected.
About halfway up, I’m going pretty slowly and dripping with sweat, a man comes out of his garden and waves me down, telling me to wait under the tree. A few moments later he’s back with a bucket of ice-cold yogurt and a pickle jar to drink out of. It was absolutely delicious. He tries to get me to take the jar, but there’s no way I’m adding more weight now (and it wasn’t going to stay cold long either). As I set off the bike feels suddenly lighter, psychological I’m sure, but I had to double check I’d not dropped both panniers.
I stop at Bolu, a large bustling town with a big mosque but nothing else of interest, just lots of shops.
Day 73
Turkey consists of a series of mountain ridges running north-south. Common wisdom says not to cycle the Black Sea coast, at least in the western part. So I have another day of climbing, views, descents, repeat. This time climbing to 1450 m.
Day 74
Turkey is immense. The landscape is huge. It may not be as photogenic as Scotland, but it’s awesome to cycle through.
I started the day early intending to push on a bit further than recent days where the climbing has got the better of me. Breakfast at a roadside çay stall, of which there are many. Then a descent of at least 1000 m to meet the railway line where it should be reasonably flat through some valleys.
A great day is then spoiled by bike problems. I have a Sturmey-Archer three speed hub, and suddenly it’s jumping in the main, straight-through gear. I pull over at the next refuge to investigate. Even with no load it’s skipping. Fuck. Lowest gear is fine. Next big town is 20km, that will be fine in low and freewheeling on descents.
After a while and a bit of jiggling of the gears I can use 2nd gear but the noise is horrendous. There’s nothing on Gooogle, but I pull in to a farm supplies store where they offer me tea (accepted) and cigarettes (declined) and phone around for a bike repair man. He turns up in an electric three wheeler and gives me and my bike an extremely hairy trip to his workshop, honestly I’d rather have the directions.
The best he can manage is squirting oil in various places, he does make more tea though. He’s happy that it’s all good now, charges me a pound and shakes my hand.
Google suggests some bike shops in Karabük, the only city within distance, though on inspection most of those are motorbike or toy shops. One looks good so I head there.
Safranbolu, where the bike shop is, is on the side of a very steep hill. When I stop to check the map, a passing stranger walks up and gives me a bottle of cold water. Is this normal or do I look on the brink of collapse? I’m pretty sure the hub gear is not going to be an easy fix, I expected my options were a Shimano hub, maybe with a wait, or a fixed gear wheel. Neither seem possible, and the mechanic refuses to even break open the hub to have a look.
I’ve ordered a replacement hub of the same model to be sent over, so the wheel can be rebuilt with the same rim and spokes. I’ll have to chill here for a while. Thankfully the local hotel has good wifi and they’ve upgraded me to a massive suite, two bedrooms, living room, kitchen, £30 a night with breakfast.
Day 81
Update: no change
My parcels have been bouncing around customs in Istanbul for a few days now. There was one with tyres and chain at my son’s that I was intending to get sent to Georgia but as I’m stalled anyway he sent it out on Friday. The one with the hub was ordered from SJS on Thursday, and I emailed them with my predicament. They sent some nice emails back but despite their promises they didn’t actually get it into the post until Monday night.
The breakfast is minimal but adequate. There’s no coffee, not even instant, but plentiful black tea. A typical Turkish hotel breakfast is bread, tahini, olives, tomatoes, hard boiled eggs, chillies and fresh herbs. The hotel does not have beer, nor do the local restaurants, but for a Muslim country Turkey has a surprising number of off licences. The choice is generally Efes, Tubourg or Carlsberg.
This morning it was a bit smoky out on the terrace. The European heatwave has moved here with consequent wildfires, and others a little further away. I came this way to avoid the heat in the Balkans but it looks like upper 30s in the afternoon for the next week before going back to normal (27C or so). So I guess waiting here for a few extra days might actually be a good thing.
Day 92
Not counting weekends, the parcels took roughly:
- 1 day to get from UK to Istanbul
- 1 week to be bounced around customs, opened more than once judging by the various cut tape
- Almost a week to get from Istanbul to local office 100km from here
On Friday they delivered not the package but instructions on paper to upload Passport and entry stamp
Today (Monday) I’ve finally got them. Assessed customs charge 60 ₺ — about a pound — each. Really? It took a week to work that out?
The bike shop is closed on Mondays.
Day 94
On the second attempt the bike man managed to lace the wheel correctly. It’s almost circular this time. But feels pretty tight and I’m confident.
He replaced the chain, it was painful watching him work, I had to step in and show him how to use the quick link. His tools are shocking: spanners that didn’t fit, cheap Aldi-style chain breaker, and his compressor took longer to inflate the tyres than my mini pump.
He charged 1,200 ₺ for the whole job, and refused extra for the chain fit. I think he learned a lot though!
So I’m back on the road in the morning, and I’m feeling a little scared — I think I’ve become institutionalised or at least a bit at home here. People in the town greet me when I walk down the high street, the hotel staff all have something to say to me (but mostly in Turkish).
On balance, despite the heat, heading west seems like the sensible option. I think I’m too late in the year for Central Asia, some of the mountains might be impassable by the time I get there, especially with the Azerbaijan/Russia blockage. If I’ve still got the beans for it I can tackle that in the spring.
Day 95
Well that was hard work. My legs seem to have turned to jelly during the extended stop.
I’m heading west, and I knew it was going to be hilly as I came over those mountains already. I didn’t want to take the main road slog, which is fairly steep itself, so headed off through the forests. Slightly higher at the peak, but not by much. A fair amount of walking was involved, but it was nice, and fairly cool at the top.
The downtime also gave time for the sores on my arse to heal up. I also threw away the shorts with the broken chamois that I assumed had caused them. This was wrong – the sores are back, after just one day.
Strava says it was 1,500 m of climbing in 100 km, it felt like more than that.
Day 96
The accommodation in Mengen is so lovely, amongst the pine trees on the side of the valley, and the hospitality top notch, I’d be tempted to stay longer if I hadn’t only been back on the road for one day. I’ve read the tourist info leaflets and decided to head for Mudurnu which involves crossing my route out at Bolu and then over another mountain.
Today’s mountain is nowhere near as nice as yesterday’s, but involves less walking.
For a tourist destination, Mudurnu is lacking any actual tourists. It’s quite pretty with lots of traditional Turkish houses and an ancient mosque. The first hotel turns me away: “we only take groups at the weekend”. Srsly? It’s 6PM are you really hoping a coach party turns up now? The owner at Mengen shed light on why all the accommodation is so empty despite it being the middle of summer. There was a fire at a hotel in which many people died and the government shut all hotels until they’d installed new safety equipment and most only reopened in the last couple of months.
Day 97
There appears to be very little west of Mudurna other than mountains, and the route to Eskișehir is showing as 4,000 m of climbing in little over 100 km. So instead I head for Lake Sapanca with a view to following the south coast of the Sea of Marmara.
Zoomed out it looks like the route follows the river down, but in fact it hugs the side of valley, high up, with the inevitable cuts down and up again at every side valley. Great views though. Eventually it drops down and I can cut off the quiet but less interesting main road and take the smaller roads down by the river and through the villages. I have to backtrack a few times as the OSM data is out of date and takes me to non-existent bridges and dead end roads. I’ll update those later.
I should have realised when I booked accommodation that it advertised lake views but wasn’t on the lake front, the final 2 km involved 30-40% roads up to the ridge on the edge of town. I struggled to push my bike up, with my boots slipping on the cobbles. On arrival they’ve not got my booking and the standard rooms have gone, so I end up with a suite including an outside tub overlooking the lake. I’m not sure I get the appeal, but I did give it a go.
Day 98
An absolutely wonderful day’s ride.
It didn’t start great, the hotel breakfast was from 10-12, which I’d call an early lunch. Aiming for the next lake, the first part after crossing the ridge there was no option but the dual carriageway. But for a bonus there was a decent breakfast with actual coffee at a petrol station.
After a bit I could cross the dual carriageway, the river and the train tracks to the most beautiful road through villages, buzzing towns and farmland. When I stopped for provisions, the shopkeeper came out to look at my bike and quiz me about my trip (in Turkish). Then wouldn’t let me leave until he’d found a frozen bottle of water to give me.
The road winds amongst fruit trees, olive groves, melons, outdoor tomatoes and peppers, with lots of activity and various big markets selling the produce. Lunch sitting under the olive trees. There’s barely any traffic, and almost every driver that passes toots and waves.
Then, as the valley narrows I cross back over the tracks, river and road to a big change of scenery. I’ve chosen another small road route, hoping it’s not going to turn to gravel. There are 2 cyclists recommending this route (a rarity for Turkey to have any) with a picture of what looks like a flat road. The reality is a very steep climb, not particularly high but when I hear the lorry full of bales change down to low gear and barely pull ahead of me I know it’s going to be tough. Stopping for a break is also tricky as I have to be careful not to sink into the molten tar or get it on the tyres.
The road’s quiet, but at the very top there’s a traffic jam. It seems the police are expecting some kind of cross-county smugglers or something, there’s a checkpoint and they’ve pulled the first couple of cars to a waiting area. Then it’s down hill all the way, ignoring komoot’s instruction “take the next right on to path” – come on, if you know it’s a path why are you including it on a road cycling route? Then into Izmit, a town with an impressive medieval wall and well-preserved gate houses.
Day 99
I follow the south side of the lake, then cut south towards Bursa up a long hot climb.
I’m not sure where I’m going but I spot a place called Ertan Ayçetin Bicycle House which is a stop-over for long distance cyclists set up in memory of the well-known (in Turkey) cyclist Ayçetin who died in 2021. It’s in a converted school with 8 bunks, washing machine, air-con, a lecture theatre, bike maintenance workshop and museum. I have some weird hope that this might be a place where round-the-world cyclists are constantly passing through (it’s on the obvious route that avoids Istanbul) but it turns out it gets one or two cyclists in a month at most.
It’s very calm and peaceful here, and free to stay as long as you arrive by bike. Also my first use of a washing machine since Lithuania.
Day 100
One hundred days should be auspicious, but I’ve decided to just take advantage of the facilities and do some light bike fettling and wash all my stuff. My legs are a bit sore from the climbing too. It’s very windy but it’s coming from the Black Sea so should be a reasonable tail- or side-wind tomorrow.
Day 101
I follow the lake round, this is one of the routes planned out as part of the European grant that funded the bicycle house, apparently it’s a walking/cycling route all the way from Rome. They’ve indicated which bits are tarmac, but that description is pushing it — there clearly was tarmac here once, but now it’s a moonscape.
I see a lot of “cycling highlight” marked on the Komoot map, which looks promising, but on clicking in to them, they all turn out to be warnings of loose dogs. I route on to the D200 which is fairly busy at first as it’s funnelling traffic to the motorway, after that it’s fairly quiet and I can catch up on the last few episodes of The Archers.
The first major city is Bandirma and I stop here for a replacement brake cable. Back on the road the wind is getting really strong, it’s nice when behind me but when it’s from the side it makes for heavy going with the front loaders catching the wind. 155 km gets me to Biga, a bustling and very typically Turkish city.
Day 102
Today is a bit of an unknown with a ferry crossing, I need to be as close as possible to the Greek border either today or tomorrow to avoid wasting Schengen days, but it’s about 1.5 days’ riding so I’m not sure how to split it.
I follow the coast of the Sea of Marmara to Lepsiki (last year’s TCR crossing point) to grab the ferry. The wind is forecast as “stronger than yesterday”. At one point the ferry starts to rock quite alarmingly and it tacks 90 degrees to port to avoid the waves.
On the other side I need to head back eastwards and the headwind is brutal. After a couple of hours and little over 20km I’ve left the Sea of Marmara behind and I’m on the Aegean. There’s a recommended camp site here on the sea front, but it’s too early, I’ll head on and see if I can reach the border.
The headwind, plus a 4km climb at a constant 7%, takes its toll and I call it a day at Keşan, 30 km short. An early start is in order.
Day 103
A 30 km ride to the Greek border.