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Sunday 21st November The next morning we woke to heavy rain, which started to turn into snow despite Yilmas being adamant about the weather improving. This compounded the fact that Paul wasn't feeling very well. He was being sick for most of the day and had a fever and a dicky tummy. Not a pleasant experience and definitely not the day to leave. That evening Kate was invited downstairs again to have dinner with the family and she started chatting to 2 German guests, Jorg and Thomas. By this time the snow was quite thick and continuing to fall (but Kate resisted the urge to build a snowman). Monday 22nd November From our window the next morning we were greeted with a fairytale landscape, under a blanket of 3 to 4 inches of snow. Paul was feeling better so we braved the mad weather and went to visit the overpriced open-air museum. The numerous rock-cut churches and their frescoes were beautiful but sadly our stay was cut short due to our numb hands and feet (SPD shoes are not ideal footwear for snow). That evening, after spending a number of hours talking with Jorg and Thomas we went out with them for a later dinner to the Bonafide Pide Salonu where the boys kindly paid for our meal as a gesture towards our trip. (Thanks guys!) It was a lovely evening and we went to bed and curled up under the blankets feeling extremely satisfied. Tuesday 23rd November The snow was showing no signs of melting the next morning. After breakfast, as we wished Jorg and Thomas good luck in their drive south in their snow chain equipped car, we made the decision that we would have to bus it out of Cappadocia, rather than get trapped in the thick snow on the high passes of the Toros ahead. Again this was not an easy decision but we really had to think of our safety and bicycle wheels can't take snow chains. In hindsight we feel that we made a good decision as the road over the Toros was extremely bad with plenty of snow, black ice and high winds. Conditions we, and most Turks, were not prepared for at this time of the year. We heard later from other travellers that the snow in Goreme became up to a foot deep in places. Even so, we both feel somewhat guilty for taking this action and hope you understand. Had we been more prepared for extreme winter conditions things would have been different. Apart from a near miss with a crashed truck (and when we say near miss we mean very near miss!) the bus journey was relatively uneventful. The bus dropped us off in the main bus station in Adana at about 6 o clock in the evening, in the dark. Left to our own devices we slowly, with a few stops for directions, made our way to the centre of town in search of a place to stay. The second hotel we stopped at was within our budget and by 7.30pm we'd checked in, and settled ourselves into our room. In our search for our hotel, the shop assistant named Emret from across the road had invited us out for the evening. So from our hotel we made our way across to his shop where we watched him apply his banter to the numerous girls coming in looking for clothes. We then stepped out with him into the relatively warm (10 degrees) evening to look for some food. To his surprise we took up his invitation to try a traditional Adanan delicacy. On the side of the road we sat down on stools at a low table. In the centre of the table was an enormous pot, the contents of which upon first glance looked like chicken drumsticks. What we were served wrapped in paper, however, was something completely different. In fact we are still not completely sure what it was. As far as we could gather it was a part of the sheep's bowel, stuffed with rice and spices. But to us, it just looked like a willy and hence was very difficult to eat! Kate only managed to force two mouthfuls down before politely putting hers in the bin. She quickly tried to forget the image of what she had just eaten. Paul, on the other hand, did a great job and pretty much finished his though not with great pleasure. He had to show his manliness in some way! So after that delightful experience (and one never to be had again) we trotted off in search of an Adana kebab to remove all trace of what we had consumed. This made us feel a lot better and allowed us to sleep soundly that night and with no nightmares! Wednesday 24th November We awoke to beautiful sunshine the next morning and we left at a leisurely pace picking up some bread along the way and headed out east. The riding was pleasant and not pushing ourselves we had ridden about 40miles by the time we had started to look for somewhere to camp. As we stopped to take photos of the sunset we were whistled and waved over the petrol station on the opposite side of the road. Here we met Emin, Husein and Husili. Emin was the oldest of the three and it was obvious that he irritated the other two and they could only barely tolerate him! Over the third cup of çay we broached the question of camping on the grounds of the petrol station. He explained that it wasn't possible to camp but that we could use the prayer room instead. Emin insisted on sending Husein out to buy us some mint and yoghurt soup and some bread. This was delicious and afterwards, much to the relief of the other two, he quickly set off back to his home, greatly improving the atmosphere in the station. Husein and Husili looked after us very well, constantly supplying us with cay, Nescafe, sunflower seeds and roasted chickpeas. We spent hours watching western music videos on satellite TV but were frustrated by the constant reappearance of Blue! Even Husein was at his wits end. As we slept coldly in the prayer room, the rain began to pour heavier and heavier and the noise of it on the petrol station roof drowned out all other sound. Thursday 25th November Slightly cold, the next morning, after they treated us to a traditional Turkish breakfast of bread, cheese and olives, we pedalled off reluctantly clad in full waterproofs taking the turning south towards Antakya. They wanted us to stay until the weather cleared but that definitely would not have been that day and we really needed to push on. The first 25miles, we made really good time and desperate for a respite from the torrential rain, we stopped at a petrol station in Dortyol where we quickly found ourselves having cups of çay thrust into our cold shivering hands. As we were sitting here, grateful for the hot drink, warmth and the biccies we had bought, we decided that we had had enough and needed to stop for the day. The idea of speeding trucks continuing to drench us with waves of water as they passed just didn't seem to appeal. Even though there were several pensions, hotels and possible camping spots in Dortyol, one of the gentlemen standing there kindly offered a place in his home for the night. He rang his friend, who came and picked us and our baggage up in his car, and took us to his home (we left the bikes behind locked up in the garage). The man's name was Kazim and he introduced us to his wife, Muasses. She was a sweet old lady and gave us some dry clothes to change into. She then fed us the most amazing lunch which just kept coming; it was incredible. We then spent the afternoon watching BBC news and all the while being gently interrogated by his family and some of his friends who'd heard of the 2 English cyclists. Paul was quite quiet (much to Kate's disappointment) leaving Kate to take on her usual role of doing all the talking, this time in Turkish. She is determined to learn Turkish so that by 2006 she will be able to hold intellectual conversations in the language. Maybe she should better learn how to have a decent intellectual conversation in English first! It was funny sitting around watching the BBC as the family obviously didn't have enough English to understand it but were still gazing intently at the screen. Friday 26th November In the morning it was still raining, perhaps even more heavily than the day before. We were torn between staying in the warm but very claustrophobic house, or heading out into the miserable weather. Despite being grateful for the hospitality, the constant interrogation by the family now including his son, Umit, and the need to concentrate in Turkish all the time, meant that we preferred the latter. The bikes had already been transferred to the house the day before so we loaded them up and set off into the rain. Kate was now carrying another pair of woollen slippers whilst Paul had a pair of cotton socks, both presents from Muasses. A later pang of guilt meant that Kate donated her second slightly larger pair of slippers to Paul. This helped to calm the green-eyed monster! Several people had warned us that due to racial tension in Iskenderum it wasn't the best place for travellers to stop. With this in mind, it forced us to push on through the city and begin our climb up towards Belem. The small black smudge on the map had turned out to be a steep climb from sea level to 750metres in under 10km. As we reached the outskirts of Belem, totally drenched and dejected, we pulled into yet another petrol station for some hot tea. We stayed only briefly though as we soon checked into the cheaper of the two hotels and got changed out of our sodden clothes and warmed ourselves by the electric heater. We knew we had made the right decision to stop when the rain outside turned into vicious hailstones. After spending a couple of hours in the Internet cafe, typing up our diary, we dashed through the rain, dodging the enormous deep puddles and speeding traffic, to a nearby restaurant. The food was lovely, if slightly overpriced and the waiter was very interested in our expedition, and talked to us for ages. We could then go to bed hoping that the weather would have changed by the morning. Saturday 27th November Luckily it had. We woke up early to bright sunshine and a stiff breeze. We continued our climb but this time we were climbing up through snow and ice and with a tricky wind on our tails. As we climbed, we were being propelled upwards by the strong wind trying to maintain balance on the very narrow road. We were glad as the road began to descend that it widened, but the wind was now dangerously strong and pulling us in all directions. At one point, we were on a 15metre wide gravel strip, at the edge of the road, and were dragged uncontrollably from the relative safety of the roadside to a matter of metres away from a vertical cliff. After getting stuck in and completely clogged by a large patch of mud, we managed to drag our bikes down, wheels not moving, to a nearby teahouse where we could shelter from the wind. There, whilst sipping large cups of tea and being interrogated, one of the men set about hosing down our bikes so that they could be ridden once more. From here onwards, the descent was less tricky and with the sun out, we soon started to warm up. The mountain gave way to a flat plain where Antakya lay about 30km away. We stopped briefly at the side of the road to munch on some bread and choccie spread, whilst watching the young Jendarma parading in the military grounds in front of us. Soon afterwards, we were in Antakya and the first hotel we found seemed pleasant enough and fitted our pockets. We spent a little time wandering around Antakya and did a bit of diary work on the computer. The city seemed wonderfully modern and cosmopolitan but we still felt the need to push on. Paul and Kate x
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Challoner's, Fasiledes, Amersham, Buckinghamshire