Will joined us on the first day which was great, and it was through fantastic scenery. We were at the thickly wooded foothills of the Caucasus mountains, which are very cool compared to the plains. It was a good cycling day, and I was very pleased to make it past the 2000km mark on my odometer! We camped that night in the woods, we ate quite late though as Humphrey's stove had mysteriously fallen apart in his bag and is a struggle to put back together. A good meal of noodles, sausage and tuna; protein and carbs, yummy!!
We were up early the next morning and soon after Humphrey and I said good bye to the mountains as we turned inland to the plains again on advice from people who said there is almost no road on the supposed 'main' road into Baku. The morning was maybe my favourite few hours of cycling. I felt strong and the sun wasn't bothering me and before we got into the falt desert we were treated to a set of beautiful rolling hills covered in water buffalo. Then we saw a huge flock of white herons just before the desert really started. I felt like I was flying and I loved cycling then. Even after a long stop to repair Humph's tyre again I still felt good and on the flat road on our first desert stretch I felt like someone was pushing me I was going so fast. Someone stopped to give me an ice cold bottle of water, and all the beeps on the horn from passing lorries added to the buoyant feeling. Then the dreaded wind picked up and I slowed down. Coupled with Humphrey's decision to do 135km today and then 150km tomorrow to get to Baku, the afternoon took a turn for the worse as there was still 30km to go. The rest of the day was a fight against the wind and counting down the kilometres until I could stop. A brief respite was when someone stepped in front of me and handed me a huge slice of watermelon!
As there was nothing but desert we asked at a petrol station if we could sleep at the back of the building. The young chap showed us to a pagoda by a pond, and we slept under that with out a tent that night. We had watermelon for supper and a few stale cakes, but spotted a watersnake carrying away a writhing fish for his supper and then saw a turtle basking!
We woke early and started packing up, and the chap from the petrol station came over. He demanded us to pay 15 Manat for the pleasure of sleeping rough in the pagoda, he blocked our way out of the pagoda. We went through the motions of not understanding and then when that became too painful we laughed at his request and kept saying no, whilst trying to push past him. To our relief a van came in wanting fuel and we pedalled off with the sound of distant shouts of 'police' from the boy...
The morning was OK, the wind was up but not too bad and we plodded on, although psychologically the thought of 150km stretching ahead didn't help the motivation. We had a long stop at a petrol station whilst Humphrey fixed another puncture, and then we saw the Caspian Sea where we turned towards Baku. This is where we felt the full force of the wind...at first I was going at 11-13kph, but soon after I was down to 6-7 as the wind battered me. It was so powerful, and every lorry that went past created a vacuum which sucked me forward and then the wind almost pushed me off the road, I felt like I had no control over my bike. It was the only time I thought that it was to dangerous to cycle, but we pushed on. After 20km of this I was nearing the end of my patience with the damned wind and was willing to shelter anywhere until the morning. The dust was almost unbearable and every lorry that would pass us threw a whole load of grit in our faces. I saw ahead that Humphrey had stopped to talk to someone in a car and when I approached I was so relieved to hear that the man had offered for us to come and stay at his house!! We had only done 104km of the 150 but I was not complaining. We had just 4km to go until the turning for his house. When I turned off and with the wind behind us, I was going at 15kph without pedalling!
I am always so amazed at people's kindness. He took us in, we spoke no common language, and he let us shower in his home, he fed us and let us stay the night. The shower was much needed, I was covered in dust it had ingrained itself into my eyebrows and hair. Once we were clean we realxed and they brought cay and food for us. In the evening his wife and two young daughters cam home and we chatted into the evening. It is quite a feat to talk about politics, religion and other worldly topics when we share no common language, but we managed it that evening. I shared a room with all of his daughters that night and it felt like a sleep over. The youngest was laughing at my transformation to wearing glasses, and with her sister they were giggling until late when their mother told them to go to sleep!
In the morning we were shown round their garden, which is full of all kinds of fruit; quince, plums, apricots, figs, apples, damson, grapes. We were given a huge breakfast of fried eggs dripping in oil fresh from their chickens and home made jam and bread. We hit the road and thankfully the wind was not quite as strong and we made our way into Baku and to our hostel. We met Will who had been watching Wimbledon and also bumped into Elmar, a Dutchy we had met in Tblisi. A good cycling gang for supper. Baku is a bottle neck for cyclist all waiting for visas and the ferry across to Kazakhstan. So we were to meet quite a few while we were here.
Sunday, 19 July 2009
Balakan to Seki - 109km
It was downhill for a long time out of Balakan, the first town in Azerbaijan, which was great...we descended into the falt plains that stretch between the Higher and Lower Caucasus. It was easy cycling so we could really admire everything around us, and it was great to be in the shadows of the awesome Higher Caucasus and to think that the top of the mountains mark the border with Russia.
In this area it is difficult to define in what continent we are, it isn't Europe, but also not quite the Middle East or Asia, the Caucasus are a bit lost in their identity and because there are so many disputed borders all around they isolate themselves even more. The border between Armenia and Turkey is closed, as is the Armenia - Azeri border. Georgia welcomes everyone and anyone and I saw more EU flags there than in Europe, in the vague hope that they might be accepted one day, but the visa process for Azerbaijan is so difficult that they hinder any chance of promoting tourism for anyone but the most dedicated travellers and cyclists!! It is a bit of a maze of bureacracy around here, and very much off the beaten track of travelling routes.
We slowly simmered away in the plains, stopping often to get some shade from the relentless sun. So when we saw a very inviting river we jumped in...I of course went in fully clothed, but knew that it would actually be a relief to cycle in wet clothes. It was an idyllic spot, with a few horses lapping at the water further along and only us and a couple of Azeris for company. Although I was quite conscious of the 'wet t-shirt' competition look after I emerged and beat a quick retreat from the gawping stares. Having cycled a little further in this area, I have noticed that women don't swim at all, even fully clothed.
Soon after we faced a decision, carry on along the long but paved road or take a left on a shorter but less well paved road. After a long discussion with the locals, in which we used a mixture of Russian, from Humphrey, and Turkish, from me, to communicate and we decided to go against all advice and take the shorter road. During this conversation I was able to admire the local fashion trend of pulling out, or letting your teeth fall out, and replacing them with a full set of Golden Wonders!!
The road started off manageable, and we had to fend off a few more drivers who stopped us and said don't go this way...but blindly we carried on. It progressively got worse, and we were reduced to travelling at 10kph over the terrain. Low and behold, Humphrey's poor tyre gave up again and exploded in the heat. It took a long time to get to good roads again but it wasn't so bad as we were looking up at a picture perfect mountain range. To add insult to injury as soon as we hit a good road, we started to climb on a very long straight road up to Seki. We climbed for, perhaps, 6km...so we plodded into town hoping to stay at a Karavanserai, us being silk road travellers! It is a place where people of the silk road could rest, replenish and trade their goods, and as this one was, they are normally wonderful buildings filled with arches and domes with big courtyards. Unfortunately this was full for the night, so we contacted Ilgar from the guide book, who organised a homestay for us with a family. We decided to stay one more night so we could rest and stay in the Karavanserai.
The next day we rose early to have breakfast with Ilgar and his family, and I tried the most amazing jam, it was made of rose petals and was heavenly. Humphrey and I gorged on this sweet nectar! I must make it at home because it tastes so good. After breaka we marched up the hill to the Palace complex. As we entered and looking a bit lost, we were swarmed with young azeris all wanting to have their photo taken with us!! They hardly said hello, we were stunned especially as we didn't even have our bikes with us which normally draw the crowds! We saw the Palace which looked very Persian in style and we felt like we had finally made it to the East. Inside it was covered in intricate and detailed paintings.
On a break at Ilgar's tea house we saw a passing cyclist who we hailed down. He had panniers but only on the back and they were open with stuff spilling out of them, so I thought he was jsut going to pick some shopping up...but when he came over I realised that he had come from Croatia like that, he was travelling light, but not quite light enough to pack everything into his panniers and keep everything waterproof, which his Ortlieb bags are prized for! Will came over and he was the first other Brit we had met on the road, we convinced him to spend the night in Seki with us and we trooped off to the next village to do some more sightseeing. After a long wait for the local bus, which is really a very small van with seats, we hailed one down. I went first and told the driver there were three of us, he waved me to the back and opening the door I was not sure how we were possibly going to be squeezed in but he and everyone in there seemed convinced that there was space. We all crammed in and crouched down, grinning through gritted teeth at everyone whilst whispering to each other how much pain we were in! One women took a fancy to me and flashed her golden smile at me alot, which I returned with my pearly whites. At first she jsut pinched my cheeks and stroked my hair talking loudly at me in Russian, then as my discomfort started to show she insisted that I sit on her lap!!! I refused again and again until she had had enough and hauled me onto her lap by my tshirt, to which there was no relief as I spent the rest of the journey hovering on her lap so as not to actually 'sit' on it, from one stress position to another! We fell out of the bus and trudged up to the Albanian Church that we came to see, but hungry and tired we got a taxi back to Seki pretty soon afterwards not wanting to risk another bus.
We had supper together that evening, and after we went to the rather touristy cay house. The man serving us had taught himself English, but in spoke in such a way that everything came out as if he was barking an order, 'sit down, please' 'be at home' 'eat well', there was no choice but to do as he said! Cay is served here with a selection of jam, just eaten with a spoon no bread or butter jsut syrupy jam in a little saucer to eat with your cay, it mafe me understand a little why they all have gold gnashers.
In this area it is difficult to define in what continent we are, it isn't Europe, but also not quite the Middle East or Asia, the Caucasus are a bit lost in their identity and because there are so many disputed borders all around they isolate themselves even more. The border between Armenia and Turkey is closed, as is the Armenia - Azeri border. Georgia welcomes everyone and anyone and I saw more EU flags there than in Europe, in the vague hope that they might be accepted one day, but the visa process for Azerbaijan is so difficult that they hinder any chance of promoting tourism for anyone but the most dedicated travellers and cyclists!! It is a bit of a maze of bureacracy around here, and very much off the beaten track of travelling routes.
We slowly simmered away in the plains, stopping often to get some shade from the relentless sun. So when we saw a very inviting river we jumped in...I of course went in fully clothed, but knew that it would actually be a relief to cycle in wet clothes. It was an idyllic spot, with a few horses lapping at the water further along and only us and a couple of Azeris for company. Although I was quite conscious of the 'wet t-shirt' competition look after I emerged and beat a quick retreat from the gawping stares. Having cycled a little further in this area, I have noticed that women don't swim at all, even fully clothed.
Soon after we faced a decision, carry on along the long but paved road or take a left on a shorter but less well paved road. After a long discussion with the locals, in which we used a mixture of Russian, from Humphrey, and Turkish, from me, to communicate and we decided to go against all advice and take the shorter road. During this conversation I was able to admire the local fashion trend of pulling out, or letting your teeth fall out, and replacing them with a full set of Golden Wonders!!
The road started off manageable, and we had to fend off a few more drivers who stopped us and said don't go this way...but blindly we carried on. It progressively got worse, and we were reduced to travelling at 10kph over the terrain. Low and behold, Humphrey's poor tyre gave up again and exploded in the heat. It took a long time to get to good roads again but it wasn't so bad as we were looking up at a picture perfect mountain range. To add insult to injury as soon as we hit a good road, we started to climb on a very long straight road up to Seki. We climbed for, perhaps, 6km...so we plodded into town hoping to stay at a Karavanserai, us being silk road travellers! It is a place where people of the silk road could rest, replenish and trade their goods, and as this one was, they are normally wonderful buildings filled with arches and domes with big courtyards. Unfortunately this was full for the night, so we contacted Ilgar from the guide book, who organised a homestay for us with a family. We decided to stay one more night so we could rest and stay in the Karavanserai.
The next day we rose early to have breakfast with Ilgar and his family, and I tried the most amazing jam, it was made of rose petals and was heavenly. Humphrey and I gorged on this sweet nectar! I must make it at home because it tastes so good. After breaka we marched up the hill to the Palace complex. As we entered and looking a bit lost, we were swarmed with young azeris all wanting to have their photo taken with us!! They hardly said hello, we were stunned especially as we didn't even have our bikes with us which normally draw the crowds! We saw the Palace which looked very Persian in style and we felt like we had finally made it to the East. Inside it was covered in intricate and detailed paintings.
On a break at Ilgar's tea house we saw a passing cyclist who we hailed down. He had panniers but only on the back and they were open with stuff spilling out of them, so I thought he was jsut going to pick some shopping up...but when he came over I realised that he had come from Croatia like that, he was travelling light, but not quite light enough to pack everything into his panniers and keep everything waterproof, which his Ortlieb bags are prized for! Will came over and he was the first other Brit we had met on the road, we convinced him to spend the night in Seki with us and we trooped off to the next village to do some more sightseeing. After a long wait for the local bus, which is really a very small van with seats, we hailed one down. I went first and told the driver there were three of us, he waved me to the back and opening the door I was not sure how we were possibly going to be squeezed in but he and everyone in there seemed convinced that there was space. We all crammed in and crouched down, grinning through gritted teeth at everyone whilst whispering to each other how much pain we were in! One women took a fancy to me and flashed her golden smile at me alot, which I returned with my pearly whites. At first she jsut pinched my cheeks and stroked my hair talking loudly at me in Russian, then as my discomfort started to show she insisted that I sit on her lap!!! I refused again and again until she had had enough and hauled me onto her lap by my tshirt, to which there was no relief as I spent the rest of the journey hovering on her lap so as not to actually 'sit' on it, from one stress position to another! We fell out of the bus and trudged up to the Albanian Church that we came to see, but hungry and tired we got a taxi back to Seki pretty soon afterwards not wanting to risk another bus.
We had supper together that evening, and after we went to the rather touristy cay house. The man serving us had taught himself English, but in spoke in such a way that everything came out as if he was barking an order, 'sit down, please' 'be at home' 'eat well', there was no choice but to do as he said! Cay is served here with a selection of jam, just eaten with a spoon no bread or butter jsut syrupy jam in a little saucer to eat with your cay, it mafe me understand a little why they all have gold gnashers.
Tblisi to Azerbaijan 181km
I continue...
We left Tblisi with heavy hearts, we had a great time there with David and the fellow cyclists, but it was good to be getting back on the road after such a long break. We left late, as usual, and wound our way out of the city, weaving in between the traffic. My cycling 'skills' or ballsiness learnt in Amsterdam, dodging tourists, came in handy here dodging the cars...Humphrey got a puncture pretty soon so we stopped and sorted that out, this was the first day we had really noticed the heat and it made cycling very different! Once we got a little way out of the city we got into wine making territory and it was more like cycling in rural France, wonderful rolling hills covered in vines with the odd sunflower field to birghten the horizon. It was a real treat to cycle through and we decided to camp that night by a river tucked away from the road. Ominously we found a bleached sheep's skull where we wanted to pitch the tent but we decided to risk it. Pasta and sausage for supper as we watched the shepherd herd his sheep past us and their dead friend.
That night I got up to go to the loo and as I poked my head out I was stunned by the crowd of stars in the sky! It was beautiful, the Milky Way was so bright, I sat out there for a long time watching them and as if to cancel out the bad omen of the sheep's skull I saw a couple of shooting stars...
We started early the next day to try and escape some of the heat. Another wonderful cycling day through great scenery so it wasn't so bad when Humphrey got another puncture, I just lolled around in the shade while he toiled away at his broken bike, so a nice rest for me. We took a left turn as a little shortcut and found ourselves climbing up quite high; climbing, climbing, climbing, although I was complaining alot less and was actually enjoying the scenery while my legs powered me up. We got to the top and a vast stretch of flat, patchworked, plains spread out before us. At the brow of the hill there was a model town with very luxurious public loos, it had all been revamped and was looking very smart although we didn't stop for long. We enjoyed the downhill and from there it was flat to the border with Azerbaijan.
It was about 6 in the evening when we reached the border town, but we decided to get the crossing out of the way. Approaching the border we took our border photos early as we had heard the Azeris are pretty strict and do not like photos! The last sign we saw on the Georgian sign, was a huge blue board which said 'GOOD LUCK' , it was definitely worth the risk for a photo of that! The Georgian side was pretty painless, but to add to our concern of the sign, the policeman also bid us farewell with a parting, 'Good Luck' and a mischevious smile. We tentatively crossed the river that marked the border and were very sad to be leaving Georgia...
The border police were very polite, but they did ask us twice whether we had been to Armenia who they are currently still at 'war' with, we quickly said no, as if we had never even heard of the place! We had been told the Americans NGO workers who live in Azerbaijan say they are going to Kansas when they visit Armenia. In preparation we had covered over 'Armenia' in the title of our guide book, as a token gesture at least.
We were stamped in and cycled off with a dog chasing us and on a non existence road, it seemed that we really did need luck in these parts! We tried to find somewhere to camp but made it to the next town instead and found a motel to stay in. This is my third country of the trip!
We left Tblisi with heavy hearts, we had a great time there with David and the fellow cyclists, but it was good to be getting back on the road after such a long break. We left late, as usual, and wound our way out of the city, weaving in between the traffic. My cycling 'skills' or ballsiness learnt in Amsterdam, dodging tourists, came in handy here dodging the cars...Humphrey got a puncture pretty soon so we stopped and sorted that out, this was the first day we had really noticed the heat and it made cycling very different! Once we got a little way out of the city we got into wine making territory and it was more like cycling in rural France, wonderful rolling hills covered in vines with the odd sunflower field to birghten the horizon. It was a real treat to cycle through and we decided to camp that night by a river tucked away from the road. Ominously we found a bleached sheep's skull where we wanted to pitch the tent but we decided to risk it. Pasta and sausage for supper as we watched the shepherd herd his sheep past us and their dead friend.
That night I got up to go to the loo and as I poked my head out I was stunned by the crowd of stars in the sky! It was beautiful, the Milky Way was so bright, I sat out there for a long time watching them and as if to cancel out the bad omen of the sheep's skull I saw a couple of shooting stars...
We started early the next day to try and escape some of the heat. Another wonderful cycling day through great scenery so it wasn't so bad when Humphrey got another puncture, I just lolled around in the shade while he toiled away at his broken bike, so a nice rest for me. We took a left turn as a little shortcut and found ourselves climbing up quite high; climbing, climbing, climbing, although I was complaining alot less and was actually enjoying the scenery while my legs powered me up. We got to the top and a vast stretch of flat, patchworked, plains spread out before us. At the brow of the hill there was a model town with very luxurious public loos, it had all been revamped and was looking very smart although we didn't stop for long. We enjoyed the downhill and from there it was flat to the border with Azerbaijan.
It was about 6 in the evening when we reached the border town, but we decided to get the crossing out of the way. Approaching the border we took our border photos early as we had heard the Azeris are pretty strict and do not like photos! The last sign we saw on the Georgian sign, was a huge blue board which said 'GOOD LUCK' , it was definitely worth the risk for a photo of that! The Georgian side was pretty painless, but to add to our concern of the sign, the policeman also bid us farewell with a parting, 'Good Luck' and a mischevious smile. We tentatively crossed the river that marked the border and were very sad to be leaving Georgia...
The border police were very polite, but they did ask us twice whether we had been to Armenia who they are currently still at 'war' with, we quickly said no, as if we had never even heard of the place! We had been told the Americans NGO workers who live in Azerbaijan say they are going to Kansas when they visit Armenia. In preparation we had covered over 'Armenia' in the title of our guide book, as a token gesture at least.
We were stamped in and cycled off with a dog chasing us and on a non existence road, it seemed that we really did need luck in these parts! We tried to find somewhere to camp but made it to the next town instead and found a motel to stay in. This is my third country of the trip!
Monday, 22 June 2009
Tblisi
We have been in Tblisi for two days and have been treated like Kings. We called David when we arrived and arranged to meet with him the following day. He, like his brothers, took us on a tour of the monasteries of the city.
We first headed out to Mtskheta Monastery which we had cycled past on the way in to town. It was another beautiful building with magnificent fresco all around. Then on to Jvari a little monastery perched on the top of the hill opposite Mtskheta, David doesn't know his way around these parts and I think we missed a turning to the Monastery. Instead of taking a more circuitous route to get there, he decided to reverse for a kilometre and a half up the slip road to get there. You could cut the silence in the car with a knife, Humphrey nor I wanted to speak for fear of distracting David and I think Humphrey had his eyes closed for the whole manoeuvre! The monastery was more basic than the others, no paintings but still with icons everywhere.
I forgot to mention that I had put all my washing in the night before and it wasn't ready in time for our little excursion. So I only had shorts and a shirt to wear. Entering a church here women have to cover their hair loosely with a scarf and they should be wearing a skirt not trousers and certainly not shorts. As all my respectable church going clothes were in the wash, I brought my towel along and was wrapping that around myself whenever there was a need, and also to cover my hair as my scarf was also in the wash I had to put on my rain coat and put the hood up. I cut a rather fine figure!
Then it was onto the fortress above Tblisi that awarded us extraodinary views across the city, even if the health and safety of the place left alot to be desired, I was teetering up some very steep and narrow stairs, wrapped in my towel!
Chinese for lunch a welcome relief from 'local' food, it felt like home! Here we met some friends of David who are from Belorus. They were telling us about Baku and Azerbaijan, and how horrible it is compared to Georgia so we are looking forward to it! They were also giving me tips on what to wear in Azerbiajan. The main thing I took away with me that in Muslim countries women should under no circumstances wear red. Now this poses a little problem for me, I like the colour red, so much so that I have a pair of pillar box red trousers which I use for 'smart' occasions, I have a bright red mac for when it rains. More difficult to overcome is that I have red bags on my bike all four of them are bright red! I am a cycling sex taunt according to them...we shall see how I am recieved over there, but I will be wearing my mac inside out....
The evening was spent outside Tblisi by a little swimming lake drinking fruit cocktails and tea!
The following day Humphrey was feeling a little ill so I went with Sofa and David on a shopping trip to find me some cycling trousers and a smart pair of trus to replace my red ones! We then went for coffee with alot more Belorussians and then walked to a lovely cafe called Cafe PurPur. Very bohemian and arty with the most amazing loos, it was like going into a French renaissance dressing room.
In the evening I went out with them all to Buffalo Bills, as you can imagine from the name this was an American themed pub. There was a huge group of Belorussians most on holiday from Baku and they were all very drunk. The live band started and within minutes they were all dancing on the tables and singing along, the only thing to do was to join in. The band were great but they had one member who stood out as being unique. The drummer, bass player and guitarist were cool, 'down with the kids' guys, bearded, long hair, good looking. Then there was the lead guitarist. A balding, dark haired, middle aged guy, wearing a stripy short sleeved shirt with the buttons open to the top of his rather generous belly which hung over his light blue tight jeans. To adorn the hairy chest he was wearing quite a few pendants that hung down amongst the sweaty hair. His solos were gratuitous, egocentric, love fests. His leg propped up on the nearest chair, in an almost crutch splitting lunge, eyes closed, head rocking back and forth to the music, sweat dripping from his brow...you could almost see the thought bubble above his head imagining he was Jimi Hendrix. Then his piece de resistance, he lifted his guitar to his face and proceeded to play the guitar with his tongue, or that's what he wanted us to think. I felt violated looking at him...it was horrendous, and I don't think any of the others shared my opinion! It was definitely an experience...
Tblisi has been great, we have been truly entertained by everyone here it's been amazing...I have made some good friends and hope to see them in London. We are constantly watching the news and wondering what our next move will be, at the moment it looks like we may have to skip Iran and head across the water to Kazakhstan, but it is all subject to change.
I ahve uploaded some pictures. It takes so long to upload them on to here so the link below should take you to the album I have put on facebook, even if you are not a member. I will be adding some more when I get hold of Humphrey's pics.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2321032&id=61201566&l=5bd6dc3c08
We first headed out to Mtskheta Monastery which we had cycled past on the way in to town. It was another beautiful building with magnificent fresco all around. Then on to Jvari a little monastery perched on the top of the hill opposite Mtskheta, David doesn't know his way around these parts and I think we missed a turning to the Monastery. Instead of taking a more circuitous route to get there, he decided to reverse for a kilometre and a half up the slip road to get there. You could cut the silence in the car with a knife, Humphrey nor I wanted to speak for fear of distracting David and I think Humphrey had his eyes closed for the whole manoeuvre! The monastery was more basic than the others, no paintings but still with icons everywhere.
I forgot to mention that I had put all my washing in the night before and it wasn't ready in time for our little excursion. So I only had shorts and a shirt to wear. Entering a church here women have to cover their hair loosely with a scarf and they should be wearing a skirt not trousers and certainly not shorts. As all my respectable church going clothes were in the wash, I brought my towel along and was wrapping that around myself whenever there was a need, and also to cover my hair as my scarf was also in the wash I had to put on my rain coat and put the hood up. I cut a rather fine figure!
Then it was onto the fortress above Tblisi that awarded us extraodinary views across the city, even if the health and safety of the place left alot to be desired, I was teetering up some very steep and narrow stairs, wrapped in my towel!
Chinese for lunch a welcome relief from 'local' food, it felt like home! Here we met some friends of David who are from Belorus. They were telling us about Baku and Azerbaijan, and how horrible it is compared to Georgia so we are looking forward to it! They were also giving me tips on what to wear in Azerbiajan. The main thing I took away with me that in Muslim countries women should under no circumstances wear red. Now this poses a little problem for me, I like the colour red, so much so that I have a pair of pillar box red trousers which I use for 'smart' occasions, I have a bright red mac for when it rains. More difficult to overcome is that I have red bags on my bike all four of them are bright red! I am a cycling sex taunt according to them...we shall see how I am recieved over there, but I will be wearing my mac inside out....
The evening was spent outside Tblisi by a little swimming lake drinking fruit cocktails and tea!
The following day Humphrey was feeling a little ill so I went with Sofa and David on a shopping trip to find me some cycling trousers and a smart pair of trus to replace my red ones! We then went for coffee with alot more Belorussians and then walked to a lovely cafe called Cafe PurPur. Very bohemian and arty with the most amazing loos, it was like going into a French renaissance dressing room.
In the evening I went out with them all to Buffalo Bills, as you can imagine from the name this was an American themed pub. There was a huge group of Belorussians most on holiday from Baku and they were all very drunk. The live band started and within minutes they were all dancing on the tables and singing along, the only thing to do was to join in. The band were great but they had one member who stood out as being unique. The drummer, bass player and guitarist were cool, 'down with the kids' guys, bearded, long hair, good looking. Then there was the lead guitarist. A balding, dark haired, middle aged guy, wearing a stripy short sleeved shirt with the buttons open to the top of his rather generous belly which hung over his light blue tight jeans. To adorn the hairy chest he was wearing quite a few pendants that hung down amongst the sweaty hair. His solos were gratuitous, egocentric, love fests. His leg propped up on the nearest chair, in an almost crutch splitting lunge, eyes closed, head rocking back and forth to the music, sweat dripping from his brow...you could almost see the thought bubble above his head imagining he was Jimi Hendrix. Then his piece de resistance, he lifted his guitar to his face and proceeded to play the guitar with his tongue, or that's what he wanted us to think. I felt violated looking at him...it was horrendous, and I don't think any of the others shared my opinion! It was definitely an experience...
Tblisi has been great, we have been truly entertained by everyone here it's been amazing...I have made some good friends and hope to see them in London. We are constantly watching the news and wondering what our next move will be, at the moment it looks like we may have to skip Iran and head across the water to Kazakhstan, but it is all subject to change.
I ahve uploaded some pictures. It takes so long to upload them on to here so the link below should take you to the album I have put on facebook, even if you are not a member. I will be adding some more when I get hold of Humphrey's pics.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2321032&id=61201566&l=5bd6dc3c08
Gori to Tblisi - 88km
We got to Tblisi in good time the road was fast and the wind was kind and I think was helping us along.
As we got deeper into the city we got a real taste of Georgian drivers and the lack of rules of the road here. I found my time in Amsterdam dodging traffic and people came in useful here, the trick is to be bold and behave like a car, if you take up as much space as a car then they have no choice but to go round you all be it very closely. They have no qualms about driving the wrong way up a street, speeding at pedestrians to get them to move out of the way, speeding in general, they take no notice of the lines on the road. The one thing I will give them is that they stop, begrudgingly, for red lights, a rare chance for pedestrians to run across the street. In every car they have an icon or cross, so I suppose they think that God is on their side!
We made it to Dodo's guest house, we pushed our bikes through into a little courtyard I checked that there was hot water and a toilet and we were in luxury and could relax. It was great to meet some other travellers, people who had been to Iran and Central Asia who could give us advice and places to go. We spent a lovely evening with a Dutch girl Lotte who took us round the city before she caught her plane at 0300.
As we got deeper into the city we got a real taste of Georgian drivers and the lack of rules of the road here. I found my time in Amsterdam dodging traffic and people came in useful here, the trick is to be bold and behave like a car, if you take up as much space as a car then they have no choice but to go round you all be it very closely. They have no qualms about driving the wrong way up a street, speeding at pedestrians to get them to move out of the way, speeding in general, they take no notice of the lines on the road. The one thing I will give them is that they stop, begrudgingly, for red lights, a rare chance for pedestrians to run across the street. In every car they have an icon or cross, so I suppose they think that God is on their side!
We made it to Dodo's guest house, we pushed our bikes through into a little courtyard I checked that there was hot water and a toilet and we were in luxury and could relax. It was great to meet some other travellers, people who had been to Iran and Central Asia who could give us advice and places to go. We spent a lovely evening with a Dutch girl Lotte who took us round the city before she caught her plane at 0300.
Khashuri to Gori - 42km
We made it to Gori where our main objective was to find the Stalin museum on Stalin Avenue!!
It is a very grandiose building, and as soon as you walk through the door it has an eerie feeling and Stalin is everywhere, watching you. We got a guide as part of the ticket price, and she took us up the red carpeted stares into the first of four great halls filled with Stalin memorabilia. She spoke as if reading a script with almost no expression on her face. She told us of how Iosef Stalin was sent to Siberian jail 6 times and escaped 6 times, our great leader!! And then went through his whole life until his death, with no mention of any of the atrocities. There was a whole section on the industrial progress and it was filled with Soviet propoganda pictures; happy, smiling faces!
There were many pictures and the various conferences during the war, with Churchill and Roosevelt...and countless pictures of him in a variety of military uniforms! It was incredible, it was like a This is Your Life moment, with none of the bad bits. One room we walked into and the lights were dimmed and in the middle of a circle of columns was Stalin's death mask, a bronze cast of him soon after death!
Outside there was a sort of mausoleum protecting the house in which Stalin was born...the rest of the neighbourhood has been destroyed, most likely to build to Stalin Avenue and there alone surrounded by gardens and a roof over the roof, are where Stalin made his humble beginnings and from here rose to become the great man of Georgia...
We also managed to get a little tour on his train carriage. Not as spectacular as you'd imagine but Humphrey did get a shot of his loo!
We went to find a homestay that was in the guidebook, and were shown into a garden shed, with planks as beds and a concrete floor. We were too tired to worry and it cost 2pounds, but I was determined to get to Tblisi early the next day, I had only had two showers since entering Georgia and I was in desperate need.
It is a very grandiose building, and as soon as you walk through the door it has an eerie feeling and Stalin is everywhere, watching you. We got a guide as part of the ticket price, and she took us up the red carpeted stares into the first of four great halls filled with Stalin memorabilia. She spoke as if reading a script with almost no expression on her face. She told us of how Iosef Stalin was sent to Siberian jail 6 times and escaped 6 times, our great leader!! And then went through his whole life until his death, with no mention of any of the atrocities. There was a whole section on the industrial progress and it was filled with Soviet propoganda pictures; happy, smiling faces!
There were many pictures and the various conferences during the war, with Churchill and Roosevelt...and countless pictures of him in a variety of military uniforms! It was incredible, it was like a This is Your Life moment, with none of the bad bits. One room we walked into and the lights were dimmed and in the middle of a circle of columns was Stalin's death mask, a bronze cast of him soon after death!
Outside there was a sort of mausoleum protecting the house in which Stalin was born...the rest of the neighbourhood has been destroyed, most likely to build to Stalin Avenue and there alone surrounded by gardens and a roof over the roof, are where Stalin made his humble beginnings and from here rose to become the great man of Georgia...
We also managed to get a little tour on his train carriage. Not as spectacular as you'd imagine but Humphrey did get a shot of his loo!
We went to find a homestay that was in the guidebook, and were shown into a garden shed, with planks as beds and a concrete floor. We were too tired to worry and it cost 2pounds, but I was determined to get to Tblisi early the next day, I had only had two showers since entering Georgia and I was in desperate need.
Kutaisi to Khashuri - 112km
We left Kutaisi with regret, after another huge feast of a breakfast! Nugzar and Timur led us to the edge of town, and I was racing behind wishing I was sitting in the luxury of a leather seated Jeep. It was flat for 35km out of town and then the 'sticky wheel' syndrome started.
It is very strange how an uphill can look convincingly like a downhill, and it is amazing how frustrated one gets with oneself at not being able to go faster on the downhill. I even stopped to check my wheels and to see that the brakes weren't rubbing. Thankfully Humphrey was going through the same, and I think we had been deceptively climbing a long time.
Many people stop and shout things at us, mainly 'hello' and 'where are you from?' I was racing down, or trying to, one of the few actual downward stretches when a man shouted out, ' Are you from Great Britain?' I shouted back 'Yes!' without stopping, thinking to myself, how refreshing it was to hear someone say Great Britain, most people don't know what it is! He shouted something else, but I just waved and carried on.
I caught up with Humphrey and told him about my 'GB' encounter and he was equally surprised. Then the chap who had shouted pulled up behind us and got out and introduced himself as Temur. And then asked whether I knew Tony. The penny finally dropped...My friend Tony had put me in touch with a friend of his in Georgia, and although we had not actually spoken, I suppose there aren't many cyclists on the roads in Georgia!! It was such an extraordinary way to meet him.
From there the road got worse and we faced a 3km steady climb up to a 1000m pass. I was surprised at how well I coped with it, and it was mainly the boredom that made me stop. We got to the top and raced through the tunnel, and it was downhill from there!!!
We arrived in the town Khashuri as it was getting dark, and asked the police men about a hotel to stay in. They pointed us to one 20km down the road. An impossibility, Georgian drivers in the dark is not a good combination. So we donned our high vis vests, lights on and sped as fast as we could out of town to try and find a suitable camping spot. I suggested we pull over to the left down a lane and there happened to be a farm there. We went to ask whether it was OK to set up a tent there and they invited us in for coffee. We walked up the stairs and were greeted by a very rural scene. It was barely furnished, with just wooden stools and benches to sit on. A wood burner in the corner being fuelled by pine cones, two grubby but beautiful children wandering round one of whom had a book that he was ripping pages out of, both of them scratching their heads with lice...There was no running water which put paid to Brown's statement that broadband was as important as running water and heating! They were wonderfully welcoming, brewing us Turkish coffee and offering us some of their food. Humphrey did a stirling job of communicating in Russian with them and I relied on hand signals. It was quite late and we made signs to go and put up our tent but they said stay here!! We have two beds! It was difficult to refuse at this point. They made us a cup of fresh mint tea, freshly picked from the garden and then we went to bed. It was quite extraordinary to see the huge gap between the rich and poor here.
We got up early and were on the road by 8, but were faced with a horrendous head wind that slowed me down to 15-17kph and made the journey to Gori very tough.
It is very strange how an uphill can look convincingly like a downhill, and it is amazing how frustrated one gets with oneself at not being able to go faster on the downhill. I even stopped to check my wheels and to see that the brakes weren't rubbing. Thankfully Humphrey was going through the same, and I think we had been deceptively climbing a long time.
Many people stop and shout things at us, mainly 'hello' and 'where are you from?' I was racing down, or trying to, one of the few actual downward stretches when a man shouted out, ' Are you from Great Britain?' I shouted back 'Yes!' without stopping, thinking to myself, how refreshing it was to hear someone say Great Britain, most people don't know what it is! He shouted something else, but I just waved and carried on.
I caught up with Humphrey and told him about my 'GB' encounter and he was equally surprised. Then the chap who had shouted pulled up behind us and got out and introduced himself as Temur. And then asked whether I knew Tony. The penny finally dropped...My friend Tony had put me in touch with a friend of his in Georgia, and although we had not actually spoken, I suppose there aren't many cyclists on the roads in Georgia!! It was such an extraordinary way to meet him.
From there the road got worse and we faced a 3km steady climb up to a 1000m pass. I was surprised at how well I coped with it, and it was mainly the boredom that made me stop. We got to the top and raced through the tunnel, and it was downhill from there!!!
We arrived in the town Khashuri as it was getting dark, and asked the police men about a hotel to stay in. They pointed us to one 20km down the road. An impossibility, Georgian drivers in the dark is not a good combination. So we donned our high vis vests, lights on and sped as fast as we could out of town to try and find a suitable camping spot. I suggested we pull over to the left down a lane and there happened to be a farm there. We went to ask whether it was OK to set up a tent there and they invited us in for coffee. We walked up the stairs and were greeted by a very rural scene. It was barely furnished, with just wooden stools and benches to sit on. A wood burner in the corner being fuelled by pine cones, two grubby but beautiful children wandering round one of whom had a book that he was ripping pages out of, both of them scratching their heads with lice...There was no running water which put paid to Brown's statement that broadband was as important as running water and heating! They were wonderfully welcoming, brewing us Turkish coffee and offering us some of their food. Humphrey did a stirling job of communicating in Russian with them and I relied on hand signals. It was quite late and we made signs to go and put up our tent but they said stay here!! We have two beds! It was difficult to refuse at this point. They made us a cup of fresh mint tea, freshly picked from the garden and then we went to bed. It was quite extraordinary to see the huge gap between the rich and poor here.
We got up early and were on the road by 8, but were faced with a horrendous head wind that slowed me down to 15-17kph and made the journey to Gori very tough.
Sunday, 21 June 2009
Sameba Jikheti to Kutaisi - 68km
Ioana, told us that we should get in touch with her family when we got to Kutaisi and we should stay with them. We got on the way and were 6km ish from the city when the heavens opened and it would have been silly to cycle, so we sheltered for 40 mins or so until the sheets of rain stopped and it was just pouring and we made a break for it to Kutaisi.
We arrived soaked to the skin and not knowing where to go. We tentatively rang the number and spoke to Nugzar who doesn't speak very good English, and we started to worry slightly! We got a call from his brother who gave us directions to their house. Off we went, the wrong way, and the police who are always curious started driving behind us...we stopped and showed them the address of the house, to which they took the number rang it and spoke to David. They then proceeded to escort us to the house!! We had a police escort across Kutaisi!!! Three police cars, one in front, one behind and one to the side of us, and whenever we came to a junction they started shouting over the loudspeaker for the cars to stop. Timur, the other brother, had not told them about the police so I think Ioana parents were a little shocked to see them all and apparently it caused shock waves with the neighbours as they all thought they were in trouble with the law!
We got in and as ever were ushered quickly into the shower, we must really smell! I was very grateful for it though, as I was absolutely soaked. Once we were clean the family we were offered a huge meal and we had a bedroom each...it was wonderful! The family are all great, the father is a retired pilot, and the mother is an accountant in Tblisi. They have 6 children with two of the brothers living at home; Nugzar and Timur, Ioana in the Monastery, David in Tblisi, a daughter who is married and lives in Kutaisi and the oldest son was a pilot but sadly died in the Abkhazia conflict.
We were treated so kindly. The rain continued the next day so we took an enforced rest day, and the brothers took us on a tour of Kutaisi. We visited Galeti and Motsameti Monastery, both perched in the most beautiful locations in the mountains. We also saw dinosaur footprints and a wonderful cave. Being driven everywhere in the most luxurious jeep!!!
For lunch we had a Georgian feast. Xinkali, like Chinese Wanton which you have to bite and then suck out the juices, then Sashlik which is huge hunks of barbequed pork. It was great to get a taste of good Georgian food.
The afternoon was relaxed and Humphrey was subjected to game after game of backgammon with their father, and he won maybe two games out of twenty!
We arrived soaked to the skin and not knowing where to go. We tentatively rang the number and spoke to Nugzar who doesn't speak very good English, and we started to worry slightly! We got a call from his brother who gave us directions to their house. Off we went, the wrong way, and the police who are always curious started driving behind us...we stopped and showed them the address of the house, to which they took the number rang it and spoke to David. They then proceeded to escort us to the house!! We had a police escort across Kutaisi!!! Three police cars, one in front, one behind and one to the side of us, and whenever we came to a junction they started shouting over the loudspeaker for the cars to stop. Timur, the other brother, had not told them about the police so I think Ioana parents were a little shocked to see them all and apparently it caused shock waves with the neighbours as they all thought they were in trouble with the law!
We got in and as ever were ushered quickly into the shower, we must really smell! I was very grateful for it though, as I was absolutely soaked. Once we were clean the family we were offered a huge meal and we had a bedroom each...it was wonderful! The family are all great, the father is a retired pilot, and the mother is an accountant in Tblisi. They have 6 children with two of the brothers living at home; Nugzar and Timur, Ioana in the Monastery, David in Tblisi, a daughter who is married and lives in Kutaisi and the oldest son was a pilot but sadly died in the Abkhazia conflict.
We were treated so kindly. The rain continued the next day so we took an enforced rest day, and the brothers took us on a tour of Kutaisi. We visited Galeti and Motsameti Monastery, both perched in the most beautiful locations in the mountains. We also saw dinosaur footprints and a wonderful cave. Being driven everywhere in the most luxurious jeep!!!
For lunch we had a Georgian feast. Xinkali, like Chinese Wanton which you have to bite and then suck out the juices, then Sashlik which is huge hunks of barbequed pork. It was great to get a taste of good Georgian food.
The afternoon was relaxed and Humphrey was subjected to game after game of backgammon with their father, and he won maybe two games out of twenty!
Batumi to Sameba Jikheti - 92km
We set off from Batumi very late as we were trying to sort out our Azerbaijan visa. The cycling was easy, we were on the main road for a long time and have quickly learnt that Georgian drivers are crazy and there are no rules on the road, so that adds a little extra spice to the day. We turned away from the Black Sea rather unceremoniously considering we had been following it for the last three weeks! In land we met with the most idyllic rural scene and I saw my first pig since leaving home. We passed a field that was a little like animal farm, horses, cows, goats, sheep and pigs all living harmoniously together, but the pigs having a rather more stately waddle.
This area was true rural Georgia and the poverty was striking after the relative modernity of Batumi. One thing I have noticed after Turkey is that the attitude to hygiene is slightly different. We passed through very rural areas in Turkey and the loos were bad but there was always somewhere to wash your hands with soap. I stopped to go to the loo in one little village and asked for a loo and she led me through the market to an outhouse. I walked in and closed the door and I was in pitch black and was suffocated by the smell...I made the executive decision not to go and held my breathe for a polite length of time and then went out and thanked the lady for showing me to such a lovely place! I have learnt not to ask now.
We carried on cycling and time passed by quickly, so quickly we found ourselves in a bit of a pickle as to where to stay that night. Camping seemed to out of the question as there were people everywhere and there was not a hotel or guesthouse to speak of. We carried on with our eyes pealed and we saw a sign to a Monastery, the Sameba-Jikheti Monastery. We weren't sure whether it was still in use but we turned off and started climbing in the hope that we would find somewhere to camp.
The hill turned out to be enormous. Humphrey raced on to check that it was OK, and I plodded on behind until I heard some music up ahead, thinking I was near the top I left Whinnie and carried on to find a bus full of children dancing to some very loud music. They said that the monastery was still a long way off! But the teacher sent five little boys to pick my bike up and push it for me, I protested but not too much and enjoyed the freedom of walking up a hill.
They didn't go all the way up unfortunately but I managed to cycle alot of the rest. It was dusk by the time I saw Humphrey talking to one of the Sisters from the Monastery. She led us in and we said that we just wanted somewhere to camp. She gave me a headscarf and an overskirt to cover my legs and after talking to the Father said that we could stay there! The evening service was due to start but she said we should have some food and join later.
The Monastery is set on the top of a small mountain thickly covered in forest. It is a small and basic Monastery with very few buildings that we could see to start with. Ioana, the Sister, led us to the dining hall and I was taken aback by the scene, it was getting dark and the whole place is lit by candle light so the windows glow with the light inside. Through the window I could see a large group of men, perhaps 14 all eating a huge feast. I felt like I was walking in on the last supper, and lo and behold the mural behind the men was of the last supper. The nuns laid out the most beautiful feast for us as well; chicken, roast potatoes, cucumber with coriander, honey, bread, cakes and tea. It was just what we needed. Whilst we were eating a thunder storm began, it was just drizzling but the flashes of lightening were huge! It all added to the beautiful atmosphere of the Monastery. We finished our meal and it was dark outside, so my eyes took a little while to adjust, I kept seeing these little dashes of light and thought I was dizzy. On closer and longer inspection, this involved me staring into space for a long time, I realised that there were actually hundreds of fireflies everywhere. It was glorious, the lightening, the drizzle and the fireflies combined to make the most eerie atmosphere.
We went through into the service, again the Church was all lit by candles. For those that don't know Icons play a very important role in the Orthodox Church so to see the gold paintings of the Virgin Mary and Saint George lit by candle light was quite beautiful. The whole service was sung, or chanted, with one of the Nuns speaking the words of the bible in Georgian very fast. I felt very privileged to be there, the Nuns have prayers twice a day and only they attend, so it is a private service so I felt very lucky to witness it.
After the service it was straight to bed, Humphrey was in a room on his own and I shared with Ioana, the only Nun who spoke English and who was nominally in charge of us. Each of the Nuns have their own private little hut to live and hers was down a path in what felt like a secret garden. I could make out the rose bushes all along the path. She has a balcony at the back completely surrounded by trees so private and serves as her bathroom. Ioana's room was lovely and cosy, it was completely covered in icons and pictures of Fathers, and she had the most beautiful silk bed spread which she said she had found in the Monastery! She also had tucked away a computer and mobile phone, so well connected.
I had a sponge bath on the balcony outside which felt very surreal and then lights out. I thought we would go to sleep, but Ioana took the opportunity to ask alot of questions. We had a discussion long into the night about faith in the West and in Georgia and we spoke of each others faith and dreams, hers is to come to England, although her main dream is to become closer to God. It was very intense, a conversation I have never had with some one who feels so close to God themselves. It was certainly a learning experience, although it was very difficult trying to explain to her why I was travelling! All this in the pitch black with only the faint glow if lightening flashes through the window.
There were morning prayers at 0430 which are signalled by the slow funereal toll of the bells. Ioana before the bells, dressed and was out the door before I had even opened my eyes. She said don't go out because of the dog, it will bite! I lay there debating whether to get up and go, but due to my bad experiencese with dogs so far I decided to heed her advice which I am glad I did when I met Bebe a vicious little sheep dog. All the Nuns carry sticks to fend her off when she is out of her pen!
Ioana took us on a tour of the Monastery afterwards, the Father has been very industrious and three more chapels have been built and he is building a new accomodation block for the Nuns although this won't be ready for a long time.
It was then time for the Sunday service, to which people from the surrounding villages attend. I stayed for the whole 2 hour service although most didn't as it is acceptable to wander in and out as you please and there are no pews to sit on so none of the embarassment of shuffling past people. The Orthodox Church is very physical in their worshipping, they make the sign of the cross often and whenever they pass an icon it is made, they kiss the icons and they light many candles in front of all the different icons. It was fascinating to watch, especially when the Father walked around with the incense. We attended the lunch after the service with all the congregation, men and women sit separately and Humphrey had the honour of sitting opposite the Father. Another delicious meal and the food kept on coming, so delicious. One of the women spoke very good english and asked me whether I was Christian and I said yes, and then she said I think Catholic yes? I said no, Protestant. At which point there was alot of murmuring among the women and I could hear them all saying the word Protestant under their breath, I was wishing that my Grandmother had managed to convert me, it would have made it alot easier!!!
After long goodbyes, and alot of photos, the Nuns getting out their mobile phones to take photos, we left the Monastery absolutely speechless at how lucky we were to experience Georgian Orthodoxy at such close quarters.
This area was true rural Georgia and the poverty was striking after the relative modernity of Batumi. One thing I have noticed after Turkey is that the attitude to hygiene is slightly different. We passed through very rural areas in Turkey and the loos were bad but there was always somewhere to wash your hands with soap. I stopped to go to the loo in one little village and asked for a loo and she led me through the market to an outhouse. I walked in and closed the door and I was in pitch black and was suffocated by the smell...I made the executive decision not to go and held my breathe for a polite length of time and then went out and thanked the lady for showing me to such a lovely place! I have learnt not to ask now.
We carried on cycling and time passed by quickly, so quickly we found ourselves in a bit of a pickle as to where to stay that night. Camping seemed to out of the question as there were people everywhere and there was not a hotel or guesthouse to speak of. We carried on with our eyes pealed and we saw a sign to a Monastery, the Sameba-Jikheti Monastery. We weren't sure whether it was still in use but we turned off and started climbing in the hope that we would find somewhere to camp.
The hill turned out to be enormous. Humphrey raced on to check that it was OK, and I plodded on behind until I heard some music up ahead, thinking I was near the top I left Whinnie and carried on to find a bus full of children dancing to some very loud music. They said that the monastery was still a long way off! But the teacher sent five little boys to pick my bike up and push it for me, I protested but not too much and enjoyed the freedom of walking up a hill.
They didn't go all the way up unfortunately but I managed to cycle alot of the rest. It was dusk by the time I saw Humphrey talking to one of the Sisters from the Monastery. She led us in and we said that we just wanted somewhere to camp. She gave me a headscarf and an overskirt to cover my legs and after talking to the Father said that we could stay there! The evening service was due to start but she said we should have some food and join later.
The Monastery is set on the top of a small mountain thickly covered in forest. It is a small and basic Monastery with very few buildings that we could see to start with. Ioana, the Sister, led us to the dining hall and I was taken aback by the scene, it was getting dark and the whole place is lit by candle light so the windows glow with the light inside. Through the window I could see a large group of men, perhaps 14 all eating a huge feast. I felt like I was walking in on the last supper, and lo and behold the mural behind the men was of the last supper. The nuns laid out the most beautiful feast for us as well; chicken, roast potatoes, cucumber with coriander, honey, bread, cakes and tea. It was just what we needed. Whilst we were eating a thunder storm began, it was just drizzling but the flashes of lightening were huge! It all added to the beautiful atmosphere of the Monastery. We finished our meal and it was dark outside, so my eyes took a little while to adjust, I kept seeing these little dashes of light and thought I was dizzy. On closer and longer inspection, this involved me staring into space for a long time, I realised that there were actually hundreds of fireflies everywhere. It was glorious, the lightening, the drizzle and the fireflies combined to make the most eerie atmosphere.
We went through into the service, again the Church was all lit by candles. For those that don't know Icons play a very important role in the Orthodox Church so to see the gold paintings of the Virgin Mary and Saint George lit by candle light was quite beautiful. The whole service was sung, or chanted, with one of the Nuns speaking the words of the bible in Georgian very fast. I felt very privileged to be there, the Nuns have prayers twice a day and only they attend, so it is a private service so I felt very lucky to witness it.
After the service it was straight to bed, Humphrey was in a room on his own and I shared with Ioana, the only Nun who spoke English and who was nominally in charge of us. Each of the Nuns have their own private little hut to live and hers was down a path in what felt like a secret garden. I could make out the rose bushes all along the path. She has a balcony at the back completely surrounded by trees so private and serves as her bathroom. Ioana's room was lovely and cosy, it was completely covered in icons and pictures of Fathers, and she had the most beautiful silk bed spread which she said she had found in the Monastery! She also had tucked away a computer and mobile phone, so well connected.
I had a sponge bath on the balcony outside which felt very surreal and then lights out. I thought we would go to sleep, but Ioana took the opportunity to ask alot of questions. We had a discussion long into the night about faith in the West and in Georgia and we spoke of each others faith and dreams, hers is to come to England, although her main dream is to become closer to God. It was very intense, a conversation I have never had with some one who feels so close to God themselves. It was certainly a learning experience, although it was very difficult trying to explain to her why I was travelling! All this in the pitch black with only the faint glow if lightening flashes through the window.
There were morning prayers at 0430 which are signalled by the slow funereal toll of the bells. Ioana before the bells, dressed and was out the door before I had even opened my eyes. She said don't go out because of the dog, it will bite! I lay there debating whether to get up and go, but due to my bad experiencese with dogs so far I decided to heed her advice which I am glad I did when I met Bebe a vicious little sheep dog. All the Nuns carry sticks to fend her off when she is out of her pen!
Ioana took us on a tour of the Monastery afterwards, the Father has been very industrious and three more chapels have been built and he is building a new accomodation block for the Nuns although this won't be ready for a long time.
It was then time for the Sunday service, to which people from the surrounding villages attend. I stayed for the whole 2 hour service although most didn't as it is acceptable to wander in and out as you please and there are no pews to sit on so none of the embarassment of shuffling past people. The Orthodox Church is very physical in their worshipping, they make the sign of the cross often and whenever they pass an icon it is made, they kiss the icons and they light many candles in front of all the different icons. It was fascinating to watch, especially when the Father walked around with the incense. We attended the lunch after the service with all the congregation, men and women sit separately and Humphrey had the honour of sitting opposite the Father. Another delicious meal and the food kept on coming, so delicious. One of the women spoke very good english and asked me whether I was Christian and I said yes, and then she said I think Catholic yes? I said no, Protestant. At which point there was alot of murmuring among the women and I could hear them all saying the word Protestant under their breath, I was wishing that my Grandmother had managed to convert me, it would have made it alot easier!!!
After long goodbyes, and alot of photos, the Nuns getting out their mobile phones to take photos, we left the Monastery absolutely speechless at how lucky we were to experience Georgian Orthodoxy at such close quarters.
Cayeli to Batumi - 110km
We were on the road by ten and made very good time to Hopa, the last major town in Turkey. This had been our stop for the night, but we decided to push on to the border and try and cross it that night. The border crossing was extraordinary, as we approached the language, money, people all get a little hazy and mixed and things become alot grottier. We cycled past a long, long line of lorries all waiting to cross, and I felt quite smug to be feeling the wind in my hair (through my helmet) as I whizzed past them.
We arrived at the first border post amid a mass of confusion which I now think is a permanent feature although we were a little surprised. We then found ourselves in the middle of a quite few angry words and gestures being passed between a truck and a car driver over a what seemed like a tiny scratch on the truck, punches were thrown and an Eastenders type brawl ensued, during which we slipped past to the last point in Turkey and into no man's land. We made it to what looked like the place to get stamped into Georgia, but it was a complete free for all, there were no signs or white lines to stand behind while you wait for the person in front. I was cheek by jowel with a fat sweaty Turk and a toothless Georgian, with only Whinnie for protection.
We made it though and as we cycled off into Georgia we looked back and saw the last mosque clinging to the side of the mountains, and then Georgia stating it's faith also with a massive Cross perched on the side of the road for no apparent reason! We raced to Batumi as it was getting dark, and found the grottiest, cockroach infested place to stay there. The chap seemed quite shocked that we both wanted showers after a day cycling and he reached for his screw driver and started poking around in the shower. He couldn't get it to work, so he sent us to another room. It was an electric shower and the worrying thing was that when you turned it on, the overhead light dimmed, I kept my flipflops on in the shower!
Batumi is a crazy place to arrive in after Turkey. I hadn't realised how accustomed to the conservatism I had got, and it was a shock to see men and women kissing in the streets and the women wearing very skimpy clothes, but it was also a welcome relief! Batumi is in the middle of a massive regeneration and they seem to be doing it all at once, so one whole area is a building site but you can still walk around it using planks of wood as bridges no health and safety here. There is a huge boulevard on the sea front and the most prominent feature is the dancing fountains. There is a huge fountain lit up and loud speakers pump out varying types of music to which the fountains dance, we were treated to a little bit of Carmen and then Chicago on our first night.
We had a rest day and the highlight was eating my supper in front of the fountains, it was music from Fantasia that evening! I also tried my first Khachapuri that day, a calory injection, it is bread stuffed with cheese, topped with a runny egg and in case your arteries are still alive, they load a massive knob of butter on top just to finish them off. I had two, one for supper and one for breakfast the next morning.
We arrived at the first border post amid a mass of confusion which I now think is a permanent feature although we were a little surprised. We then found ourselves in the middle of a quite few angry words and gestures being passed between a truck and a car driver over a what seemed like a tiny scratch on the truck, punches were thrown and an Eastenders type brawl ensued, during which we slipped past to the last point in Turkey and into no man's land. We made it to what looked like the place to get stamped into Georgia, but it was a complete free for all, there were no signs or white lines to stand behind while you wait for the person in front. I was cheek by jowel with a fat sweaty Turk and a toothless Georgian, with only Whinnie for protection.
We made it though and as we cycled off into Georgia we looked back and saw the last mosque clinging to the side of the mountains, and then Georgia stating it's faith also with a massive Cross perched on the side of the road for no apparent reason! We raced to Batumi as it was getting dark, and found the grottiest, cockroach infested place to stay there. The chap seemed quite shocked that we both wanted showers after a day cycling and he reached for his screw driver and started poking around in the shower. He couldn't get it to work, so he sent us to another room. It was an electric shower and the worrying thing was that when you turned it on, the overhead light dimmed, I kept my flipflops on in the shower!
Batumi is a crazy place to arrive in after Turkey. I hadn't realised how accustomed to the conservatism I had got, and it was a shock to see men and women kissing in the streets and the women wearing very skimpy clothes, but it was also a welcome relief! Batumi is in the middle of a massive regeneration and they seem to be doing it all at once, so one whole area is a building site but you can still walk around it using planks of wood as bridges no health and safety here. There is a huge boulevard on the sea front and the most prominent feature is the dancing fountains. There is a huge fountain lit up and loud speakers pump out varying types of music to which the fountains dance, we were treated to a little bit of Carmen and then Chicago on our first night.
We had a rest day and the highlight was eating my supper in front of the fountains, it was music from Fantasia that evening! I also tried my first Khachapuri that day, a calory injection, it is bread stuffed with cheese, topped with a runny egg and in case your arteries are still alive, they load a massive knob of butter on top just to finish them off. I had two, one for supper and one for breakfast the next morning.
Trabzon to Cayeli - 100km
I had another wonderful breakfast, Humphrey went for an egg mcmuffin and MaccyD's! We set off, with regret, at 0930, we were both sad to be leaving the hostel. Our target for that day had been Rize , amazingly the kilometres seemed to fly by and we arrived there at 1430, 75km in five hours! We set off to find somewhere to stay but we both took an instant dislike to the place, I think it may have been the constant calls of 'where are you from', 'what is my name?' (I don't know, what is your name?!!) from little children on bikes. We eventually decided to push on to the next town and made it to Cayeli, we had decided to camp that evening to try and make the remains of our Turkish lira last until we got to Georgia. Humphrey got another puncture just outside Cayeli, so we limped into town. We had been told to ask the Jandarma about a suitable place to camp, which we did with no result, so I left Humphrey reparing his broken bike on the side of the road to try and ask the police. They also had no idea but suggested we go and ask the local hotel if they had space in their garden...I pedalled off as fast as my little legs could carry me, the sun was due to set soon so we needed to find somewhere. I arrived at the smartest hotel we had seen so far on the trip, and I tried to make myself look a little more respectable, but the oil stain on my t-shirt was not coming off and my hair had a serious helmet problem. I went in and tried to explain the situation, when they finally understood they took me round to the scrubland at the back of the hotel out of view of the hotel windows and just underneath the main road...at least it was private and if we put on our best togs we might be able to use the loo!
I raced off to get Humphrey, who had attracted a crowd of little girls and boys. We went back to the hotel and the chap rushed out and said 'no camping, the ground is very bad'!!! My face fell, but then he said, 'but you can stay in the hotel...for free'!!! Woohoo, we were a little cautious as we had been bitten before by this free hotel offer befor, but this seemed a little more genuine. He led us up and showed us into the little room with twin beds and an ensuite shower! It was luxury...when he closed the door we both did a little dance of joy, and then went to watch the sunset from the roof, as I think our rooms were the servants quarters so in the attic! What a stroke of luck, but it got even better, the man came up again and told us to come down and help ourselves to the buffet supper!
At supper we met another cyclist who was coming to the end of his tour of Armenia and Georgia. John was an absolute wealth of knowledge, he had literally toured the world and was now tackling those forgotten corners like the Caucasus. We chatted to him all evening whilst stuffing our faces with the most delicious food we had had so far in Turkey, it is not known for its fine cuisine.
I raced off to get Humphrey, who had attracted a crowd of little girls and boys. We went back to the hotel and the chap rushed out and said 'no camping, the ground is very bad'!!! My face fell, but then he said, 'but you can stay in the hotel...for free'!!! Woohoo, we were a little cautious as we had been bitten before by this free hotel offer befor, but this seemed a little more genuine. He led us up and showed us into the little room with twin beds and an ensuite shower! It was luxury...when he closed the door we both did a little dance of joy, and then went to watch the sunset from the roof, as I think our rooms were the servants quarters so in the attic! What a stroke of luck, but it got even better, the man came up again and told us to come down and help ourselves to the buffet supper!
At supper we met another cyclist who was coming to the end of his tour of Armenia and Georgia. John was an absolute wealth of knowledge, he had literally toured the world and was now tackling those forgotten corners like the Caucasus. We chatted to him all evening whilst stuffing our faces with the most delicious food we had had so far in Turkey, it is not known for its fine cuisine.
Gerze to Trabzon cont...
I continue my tale, sorry this has taken so long to put up!
The next day was just cycling, we were both eager to put in some miles to get closer to the Georgian border. The most exciting thing of the day was the 4km long tunnel that we had to go through. This is not something I would suggest doing on a bicycle. Thankfully there was some semblance of a raised hard shoulder so we were able to cycle along there. I am not sure whether this was safer or not. My balance seems to suddenly disappear under pressure and I spend all my time concentrating on pointing Whinny in a straight line and end up travelling at walking pace. When I emerged from the tunnel I realised that my hands had been gripping the handle bars so hard I could barely hold my water bottle!
We also bumped into some French cycle tourers who are also heading for Georgia, Pierre and Janie. The first we have met on the trip. It was great chatting to them and you get into the inevitable comparison of kit, each inspecting each others bikes...circling them like vultures seeing who has made the best choice. I of course have no idea what I have chosen and why but I manage to make out that I know what I am talking about. We made it to Giresun that evening, 110km.
The next day our bodies seemed to shut down, we were both exhausted. It took us even longer to get out of bed and mount our bikes, using any excuse to delay the inevitable. Eventually we set off at 1130 and we crawled our way to Besikduzu, only 85km down the road. Arriving late due to the late start and frequent ice cream and cay (tea) stops. We found a beach to camp on for the night, a sort of Blackpool pleasure beach that had not opened for the season yet. We made it in time to watch the most wonderful sunset over the Black Sea, and who did we find there, our new French friends! We had a lovely evening chatting about routes, visas, bikes and the Turkish culture which we all found highly amusing! They also told us we had travelled along The Black Sea Coast route. It is infamous for the hills and the emotional trauma it inflicts on people! I am not sure the latter is true but it makes me feel better. That evening I received my first call from home, which was great! I managed to speak to most of the family; Jenny, Mae, Mum, Alex and Anna. I hadn't realised how much I missed home until I got the call, it was so great chatting to them all. The Frenchies find it hilarious how many phones and 'stuff' we have!
The next morning we woke early and had a very civilised breakfast of bread and nutella and Lapsang tea, the best of France and Britain. We then cycled with them to Trabzon, it was the first time I had cycled with other cyclists and it was great, we chatted the whole way, talking about whether Turkey will make it to the EU! Janie and I were pushing ahead when we noticed that the boys weren't following. Humphrey had got a puncture...of course the kit sprawled everywhere and the bike being taken apart drew a crowd from what seemed like nowhere. 8 chaps all watching and offering advice, much to the annoyance of Humphrey...We pushed on to Trabzon, 52km, where we were going to have a rest day, which was much needed as we were both exhausted. Lunch in the park with the Frenchies and then goodbyes until we meet again in Georgia perhaps.
The guidebook was not particularly helpful with accomodation in Trabzon, saying the cheaper options were also known to be brothels, in which the local 'Natashas' are kept, the name given to them as they mainly come from ex-Soviet reps! Further down the list, however, we found a little gem, Sancta Maria, a Catholic Church tucked away on a steep hill in the centre of the city which has a sort of hostel attached. It was like a little Christian Haven, an oasis in the Islamic desert! It is difficult to describe how many mosques there are in Turkey, there is one maybe every 150-200m along the road, and the effect this has when the call to prayer rings out five times a day for ten minutes. It is like they are all competing to be the loudest and at 0330 this is a little trying. It was a great place to stay, and the best bit was there was a kitchen so I could prepare myself a feast of a breakfast which was a welcome relief from the savoury pastry I begrudgingly have every morning.
On our rest day we made it to Sumela Monastery, clinging to the side of a cliff face this stands at about 1500m above sea level and from most of the windows there is a sheer drop down the valley below. The bus journey back made me thankful that I travel by bike most of the time, as I got a severe case of car sickness!
The next day was just cycling, we were both eager to put in some miles to get closer to the Georgian border. The most exciting thing of the day was the 4km long tunnel that we had to go through. This is not something I would suggest doing on a bicycle. Thankfully there was some semblance of a raised hard shoulder so we were able to cycle along there. I am not sure whether this was safer or not. My balance seems to suddenly disappear under pressure and I spend all my time concentrating on pointing Whinny in a straight line and end up travelling at walking pace. When I emerged from the tunnel I realised that my hands had been gripping the handle bars so hard I could barely hold my water bottle!
We also bumped into some French cycle tourers who are also heading for Georgia, Pierre and Janie. The first we have met on the trip. It was great chatting to them and you get into the inevitable comparison of kit, each inspecting each others bikes...circling them like vultures seeing who has made the best choice. I of course have no idea what I have chosen and why but I manage to make out that I know what I am talking about. We made it to Giresun that evening, 110km.
The next day our bodies seemed to shut down, we were both exhausted. It took us even longer to get out of bed and mount our bikes, using any excuse to delay the inevitable. Eventually we set off at 1130 and we crawled our way to Besikduzu, only 85km down the road. Arriving late due to the late start and frequent ice cream and cay (tea) stops. We found a beach to camp on for the night, a sort of Blackpool pleasure beach that had not opened for the season yet. We made it in time to watch the most wonderful sunset over the Black Sea, and who did we find there, our new French friends! We had a lovely evening chatting about routes, visas, bikes and the Turkish culture which we all found highly amusing! They also told us we had travelled along The Black Sea Coast route. It is infamous for the hills and the emotional trauma it inflicts on people! I am not sure the latter is true but it makes me feel better. That evening I received my first call from home, which was great! I managed to speak to most of the family; Jenny, Mae, Mum, Alex and Anna. I hadn't realised how much I missed home until I got the call, it was so great chatting to them all. The Frenchies find it hilarious how many phones and 'stuff' we have!
The next morning we woke early and had a very civilised breakfast of bread and nutella and Lapsang tea, the best of France and Britain. We then cycled with them to Trabzon, it was the first time I had cycled with other cyclists and it was great, we chatted the whole way, talking about whether Turkey will make it to the EU! Janie and I were pushing ahead when we noticed that the boys weren't following. Humphrey had got a puncture...of course the kit sprawled everywhere and the bike being taken apart drew a crowd from what seemed like nowhere. 8 chaps all watching and offering advice, much to the annoyance of Humphrey...We pushed on to Trabzon, 52km, where we were going to have a rest day, which was much needed as we were both exhausted. Lunch in the park with the Frenchies and then goodbyes until we meet again in Georgia perhaps.
The guidebook was not particularly helpful with accomodation in Trabzon, saying the cheaper options were also known to be brothels, in which the local 'Natashas' are kept, the name given to them as they mainly come from ex-Soviet reps! Further down the list, however, we found a little gem, Sancta Maria, a Catholic Church tucked away on a steep hill in the centre of the city which has a sort of hostel attached. It was like a little Christian Haven, an oasis in the Islamic desert! It is difficult to describe how many mosques there are in Turkey, there is one maybe every 150-200m along the road, and the effect this has when the call to prayer rings out five times a day for ten minutes. It is like they are all competing to be the loudest and at 0330 this is a little trying. It was a great place to stay, and the best bit was there was a kitchen so I could prepare myself a feast of a breakfast which was a welcome relief from the savoury pastry I begrudgingly have every morning.
On our rest day we made it to Sumela Monastery, clinging to the side of a cliff face this stands at about 1500m above sea level and from most of the windows there is a sheer drop down the valley below. The bus journey back made me thankful that I travel by bike most of the time, as I got a severe case of car sickness!
Tuesday, 9 June 2009
Gerze to Trabzon 467 km (not all in one day!)
The hotel was not for free, they made us pay!! We were incredulous, but in true British style did not complain...I guess we have been very lucky so far and it certainly didn't break the bank despite the luxury. The day perked up later, though, when the road became flat and it has been ever since!!! All my dreams have come true!
Once the morning of hills from Gerze were over, we flew to a little place called Derekoy we were doing 26km/h on the flat it felt amazing. In the morning I didn't think we would make it past 80km...and we did 100km that day.
It was dusk when we finally reached a reasonable place to camp, on the beach. We set up camp and had supper, Humphrey was settled in his sleeping bag and I was on the phone, when I saw a dog. Panic struck I rushed back to the tent, the dog by then interested and heading in our direction, I brandished my rolling pin and tried to make myself as big as possible! Thankfully the dog was a friendly one and brought with him his owner, Hamit, who happened to speak great English...What a turn up for the books. Hamit is a true eccentric, we exchanged numbers and as we were ringing his it started playing lovely classical music, he said that most of the time he doesn't answer his phone because he likes listening to the music too much!! We chatted to him for a long time and then he invited us for breakfast the next morning.
We woke early, 0615, and Hamit came and took us to his home. A place with a view of the sea and very strangely an array of ancient pottery on the balcony, all dating back to Byzantine, Roman or Greek times and all registered with the government! Breakfast was wonderful, he knows his food. Two types of honey one of which was honey comb, beautiful strawberry jam, three cheeses, and the most delicious halva I have tasted. Every bit had a story or was locally produced. There was also brown bread on the table, the first time I had seen it in Turkey and a real luxury. Hamit seems to know everyone and he spent alot of time trying to get in touch with some local press friends of his. We set off not really thinking much of it and continued to enjoy the flat road.
We were just outside Samsun, the next big city when Hamit called and said someone was coming to meet us. A very bizarre few minutes flashed past as we were asked alot of questions about why we were doing the trip and then asked to pose for photos, (these will follow shortly). There are not very representative as we are cycling side by side and we both have huge grins on our faces!
After our brief media interlude we realised we still had a long way to go to our next stop so we put our heads down and cycled to Unye, making it a 120km day. Both very tired and hungry we ate and then went to bed.
It's bed for me now. We are in Trabzon at the moment on a rest day and we are two days from Georgia, we are both looking forward to a change. I will update more later...
Once the morning of hills from Gerze were over, we flew to a little place called Derekoy we were doing 26km/h on the flat it felt amazing. In the morning I didn't think we would make it past 80km...and we did 100km that day.
It was dusk when we finally reached a reasonable place to camp, on the beach. We set up camp and had supper, Humphrey was settled in his sleeping bag and I was on the phone, when I saw a dog. Panic struck I rushed back to the tent, the dog by then interested and heading in our direction, I brandished my rolling pin and tried to make myself as big as possible! Thankfully the dog was a friendly one and brought with him his owner, Hamit, who happened to speak great English...What a turn up for the books. Hamit is a true eccentric, we exchanged numbers and as we were ringing his it started playing lovely classical music, he said that most of the time he doesn't answer his phone because he likes listening to the music too much!! We chatted to him for a long time and then he invited us for breakfast the next morning.
We woke early, 0615, and Hamit came and took us to his home. A place with a view of the sea and very strangely an array of ancient pottery on the balcony, all dating back to Byzantine, Roman or Greek times and all registered with the government! Breakfast was wonderful, he knows his food. Two types of honey one of which was honey comb, beautiful strawberry jam, three cheeses, and the most delicious halva I have tasted. Every bit had a story or was locally produced. There was also brown bread on the table, the first time I had seen it in Turkey and a real luxury. Hamit seems to know everyone and he spent alot of time trying to get in touch with some local press friends of his. We set off not really thinking much of it and continued to enjoy the flat road.
We were just outside Samsun, the next big city when Hamit called and said someone was coming to meet us. A very bizarre few minutes flashed past as we were asked alot of questions about why we were doing the trip and then asked to pose for photos, (these will follow shortly). There are not very representative as we are cycling side by side and we both have huge grins on our faces!
After our brief media interlude we realised we still had a long way to go to our next stop so we put our heads down and cycled to Unye, making it a 120km day. Both very tired and hungry we ate and then went to bed.
It's bed for me now. We are in Trabzon at the moment on a rest day and we are two days from Georgia, we are both looking forward to a change. I will update more later...
Sinop to Gerze 40km
Again a late start, I think we need to get a little more militant about our morning routine, the snooze button is used far too often. It was a short day today because we were only trying to get to the hotel stop. If you remember from previous posts, a man in Zonguldak gave us details for a hotel in Gerze. The journey there was much better, the hills are mere slopes in comparison to before and I have started to enjoy the process of travelling by bike, I even look up now when I am travelling up the hills rather than down at my legs willing them to keep going.
We stopped on the way at one of the many roadside cay houses for some supplies and an icecream. Tea was offered and as always it goes straight through me and I needed the loo, the loo I went to has never seen a loo brush and the stench was something else, I tried to hold my breathe for the whole procedure...I came out gulping for breathe and the chap, obviously knowing that his toilet gives the nose a pounding, gave me the sweetest smelling rose I have ever smelled.
We arrived at the hotel and it was pure luxury, an evening of backgammon, Al Jazeera tv and gazing at a thunderstorm over the Black Sea followed.
We stopped on the way at one of the many roadside cay houses for some supplies and an icecream. Tea was offered and as always it goes straight through me and I needed the loo, the loo I went to has never seen a loo brush and the stench was something else, I tried to hold my breathe for the whole procedure...I came out gulping for breathe and the chap, obviously knowing that his toilet gives the nose a pounding, gave me the sweetest smelling rose I have ever smelled.
We arrived at the hotel and it was pure luxury, an evening of backgammon, Al Jazeera tv and gazing at a thunderstorm over the Black Sea followed.
Amasra to Sinop and the Hamam
We set off from Amasra quite late, it seems to take us a long time to get ready in the mornings! The climb out of Amasra was as hard as I had expected, I had been gazing at the road with terror for the whole of my rest day. But it didn't stop there, the hills seemed to get worse, climb 4km and descend 4km, always being able to see the hill ahead and always wondering 'Why didn't they build a bridge!!!' There was alot of pushing Whinnie up the steepest bits, they change is as good as a rest, and my thighs needed a rest. I was pleased when we had a long lunch break whilst Humphrey tried to sort out his Rohloff gear hub which now makes an interminable clicking noise but is meant to be indestructible...
The worst dog encounter happened today, I had been lucky up until now. I was plodding along, head down, heart pounding, Humphrey was far ahead. I rounded the corner and so a family with their donkey and three dogs, a safe scene in the UK. Not in Turkey, the dogs rushed towards me barking and growling, I got off my bike and they surrounded me baring their teeth and growling. With me frozen to the spot, it took the little boy to come running down to scare them off and the woman to tell me to keep going! Terrifying, when I saw Humphrey he said he had screamed blue murder and thrown stones at them...next time I will remember my war face!
We arrived in a place called Kurucasile, the Black Sea coast is not renowned for it's beautiful architecture, among non-Turks at least (they think it is the most beautiful place in the world, I liken it to Slough with lots of hills), so this little place did little to inspire us. Humphrey managed to convince a hotel manager to let us camp in his grounds and use the hotel facilities all for four pounds. We headed into 'town' to try and find some food and stopped at a little bakery. A very sweet family ran the place and we attempted to communicate with them, us with the phrase book and them using the, not so exclusively, British trick of repeating themselves louder and more slowly to make themselves understood. I have begun to notice that the hand signs we consider universal as a way of getting a point across are often met with a blank stare, this happens both ways as the Turkish signs are equally baffling. It would be useful in phrase books for these to be translated too...
I have refrained, up until now, to talk about my health on this trip. Up until Kurucasile I had had 5 days of bad tummy problems, which is tad difficult to cope with on a bike and didn't seem to go away over my rest day of eating and drinking all the right things. After an agonising decision making process, I decided to get a bus to the next town, Sinop, and meet Humphrey there while I recover. I arrived there late and very tired on Sunday but secretly quite pleased that I wouldn't have to cycle on my birthday.
I awoke to a phone call from Mum singing Happy Brithday to me, which made me miss home. I decided in the afternoon to go to the Hamam to try and relax. It took a little while to find but the recognisable domes came into view and I went in. A young chap came out and gave me a towel and asked if I wanted to be washed and I said yes and went to get changed. I thought it was a bit strange that I hadn't seen any other women there but carried on. He took me through to the baths and started showing me round, alarm bells started ringing as men and women are NOT meant to be in the baths at the same time. As if on cue, the fattest, hairiest bound through the door and took a comical leap back when he saw me standing there. The young chap spoke to him quickly but not so quickly that I couldn't understand the words 'english,' 'tourist,' and 'no problem'!! He turned to me and said 'no problem,' a little nervous I went to sit down, but promptly got up and ran out telling the man in quite clear hand signals and some Turkish dropped in that it was NOT ok for men and women to bathe together and this is a muslim country!!!! So not the best start to my 24th year.
The worst dog encounter happened today, I had been lucky up until now. I was plodding along, head down, heart pounding, Humphrey was far ahead. I rounded the corner and so a family with their donkey and three dogs, a safe scene in the UK. Not in Turkey, the dogs rushed towards me barking and growling, I got off my bike and they surrounded me baring their teeth and growling. With me frozen to the spot, it took the little boy to come running down to scare them off and the woman to tell me to keep going! Terrifying, when I saw Humphrey he said he had screamed blue murder and thrown stones at them...next time I will remember my war face!
We arrived in a place called Kurucasile, the Black Sea coast is not renowned for it's beautiful architecture, among non-Turks at least (they think it is the most beautiful place in the world, I liken it to Slough with lots of hills), so this little place did little to inspire us. Humphrey managed to convince a hotel manager to let us camp in his grounds and use the hotel facilities all for four pounds. We headed into 'town' to try and find some food and stopped at a little bakery. A very sweet family ran the place and we attempted to communicate with them, us with the phrase book and them using the, not so exclusively, British trick of repeating themselves louder and more slowly to make themselves understood. I have begun to notice that the hand signs we consider universal as a way of getting a point across are often met with a blank stare, this happens both ways as the Turkish signs are equally baffling. It would be useful in phrase books for these to be translated too...
I have refrained, up until now, to talk about my health on this trip. Up until Kurucasile I had had 5 days of bad tummy problems, which is tad difficult to cope with on a bike and didn't seem to go away over my rest day of eating and drinking all the right things. After an agonising decision making process, I decided to get a bus to the next town, Sinop, and meet Humphrey there while I recover. I arrived there late and very tired on Sunday but secretly quite pleased that I wouldn't have to cycle on my birthday.
I awoke to a phone call from Mum singing Happy Brithday to me, which made me miss home. I decided in the afternoon to go to the Hamam to try and relax. It took a little while to find but the recognisable domes came into view and I went in. A young chap came out and gave me a towel and asked if I wanted to be washed and I said yes and went to get changed. I thought it was a bit strange that I hadn't seen any other women there but carried on. He took me through to the baths and started showing me round, alarm bells started ringing as men and women are NOT meant to be in the baths at the same time. As if on cue, the fattest, hairiest bound through the door and took a comical leap back when he saw me standing there. The young chap spoke to him quickly but not so quickly that I couldn't understand the words 'english,' 'tourist,' and 'no problem'!! He turned to me and said 'no problem,' a little nervous I went to sit down, but promptly got up and ran out telling the man in quite clear hand signals and some Turkish dropped in that it was NOT ok for men and women to bathe together and this is a muslim country!!!! So not the best start to my 24th year.
Friday, 29 May 2009
Caycuma to Amasra 62km
This if our journey to our place of rest! Flat for most of the way and then the biggest hill we have yet faced! Whinnie and I fell out a little as she seemed to keep falling over and always in front of other people, she has no sense of shame, I have however go even more red faced at having to pick her up under the suspicious eye of a bunch of Old Mother Hubbards and their squawking children. We shed a few tears on the way up but then finally the brow of the hill appeared and over the top we saw a lovely little port town which seemed like heaven to me. We found a hotel and my body gave up! I couldn't do anything....a shower, some food and bed was the order of the evening.
A rest day today, Friday, and then we start again on an even harder stretch I fear. But I will let you know about that in the coming days....
A rest day today, Friday, and then we start again on an even harder stretch I fear. But I will let you know about that in the coming days....
Ahmutcuk to Caycuma 85km
After the initial climb out of the valley it was mostly down hill, the longest so far, and then flat into Zonguldak. We stopped at the BP garage outside which we have noticed always have the best loos, just in case the Queen happens to visit! We sometimes break into Rule Britannia as we pass one, although they always seem to have a Turkish quirk somewhere like no plug for the hand drier! At every petrol station they always seem to offer us tea, this is a bit of a catch 22 as a we always accept and then ten minutes later we need to loo and have to stop at another petrol station.
We stopped at this BP garage outside Zonguldak and experienced another example of Turkish hospitality! Having been invited for tea we had the usual stilted conversation about what we were doing and then he put us on the phone to his english speaking daughter who told us her father wanted to show us the local tourist sight in Zonguldak (the town name sounds like something from Star Trek!). He organised a truck to take us there and we spent the next hour walking through the most wonderful cave with the most impressive stalacmites and stalactites. A very strange interlude to our cycle ride. When we went back we went through our route with the man and he told us he knew a person with a hotel in Gerze about 6 days cycle from here, and a brief flurry and signature on a piece of paper he said if we give this then we can stay for free there!!! We shall see if the note bears any fruit but still, quite an extraordinary occurence...We eventually made our way off, after much protestations that we had enough money and food, they think we are poor for cycling!
I got quite frustrated with myself on the way out of Zonguldak, I could not understand why I was only going at 8km/h on a flat stretch, every time we stopped I was very stressed and kept apologising. We came to a down hill stretch and it still didn't click, that the whole time my mind had been playing tricks on me and we were actually going up hill!
We arrived in Caycuma in good time and cycled through the town trying to find somewhere to stay. We caused quite a stir as we asked people where there was a hotel, with 20 guys surrounding us, a bit intimidating for me, although they mostly ignore me! As we went back out of town, trying to shake off the village idiot who was following us, and look for a hotel, we were greeted by another saviour. Aydogan came up and asked us if we wanted to stay with him, he had a free falt as his family was in Germany, where he lived for most of the time. Amazing! Another shower and a bedroom each! It amazes me everytime, they never even ask any questions about who we are, no qualms about inviting us into their home...!
We stopped at this BP garage outside Zonguldak and experienced another example of Turkish hospitality! Having been invited for tea we had the usual stilted conversation about what we were doing and then he put us on the phone to his english speaking daughter who told us her father wanted to show us the local tourist sight in Zonguldak (the town name sounds like something from Star Trek!). He organised a truck to take us there and we spent the next hour walking through the most wonderful cave with the most impressive stalacmites and stalactites. A very strange interlude to our cycle ride. When we went back we went through our route with the man and he told us he knew a person with a hotel in Gerze about 6 days cycle from here, and a brief flurry and signature on a piece of paper he said if we give this then we can stay for free there!!! We shall see if the note bears any fruit but still, quite an extraordinary occurence...We eventually made our way off, after much protestations that we had enough money and food, they think we are poor for cycling!
I got quite frustrated with myself on the way out of Zonguldak, I could not understand why I was only going at 8km/h on a flat stretch, every time we stopped I was very stressed and kept apologising. We came to a down hill stretch and it still didn't click, that the whole time my mind had been playing tricks on me and we were actually going up hill!
We arrived in Caycuma in good time and cycled through the town trying to find somewhere to stay. We caused quite a stir as we asked people where there was a hotel, with 20 guys surrounding us, a bit intimidating for me, although they mostly ignore me! As we went back out of town, trying to shake off the village idiot who was following us, and look for a hotel, we were greeted by another saviour. Aydogan came up and asked us if we wanted to stay with him, he had a free falt as his family was in Germany, where he lived for most of the time. Amazing! Another shower and a bedroom each! It amazes me everytime, they never even ask any questions about who we are, no qualms about inviting us into their home...!
Kadikoy to Ahmutcuk 86km
Most of the way was flat to Eregli but then we decided to take a short cut, at my suggestion, to avoid going inland too much. This was a very tiring if beautiful mistake. We climbed a bit and then descended into a deep deep valley. After a little to ing and for ing about which was the best way for a bike up the hill out of the valley, we realised it was getting a bit late to get anywhere to stay. We climbed as much as we could, me pushing most of the way, and found a little place to camp in the woods. If you look at the picture on the right you can just about make out the road that we had to climb after our descent into the valley!
It was a lovely secluded little spot surrounded by rhodedendrons. We set up camp and cooked ourselves some food. We thought that we were far enough away from the village to not get hassled by anyone, but just as I was dozing off and Humphrey was writing his diary (I was too tired to do mine) we heard shouts of 'drunken youths' saying hello! A heart stoppiong five minutes passed as we tried to listen for foot steps down to us nothing came of it. The worrying thing was that both Humphrey and I both had dreams of the tent being shaken in the night...a mystery never to be solved! Onward and literally upward in the morning. It is never as bad as it looks but sometimes it is much much worse!
It was a lovely secluded little spot surrounded by rhodedendrons. We set up camp and cooked ourselves some food. We thought that we were far enough away from the village to not get hassled by anyone, but just as I was dozing off and Humphrey was writing his diary (I was too tired to do mine) we heard shouts of 'drunken youths' saying hello! A heart stoppiong five minutes passed as we tried to listen for foot steps down to us nothing came of it. The worrying thing was that both Humphrey and I both had dreams of the tent being shaken in the night...a mystery never to be solved! Onward and literally upward in the morning. It is never as bad as it looks but sometimes it is much much worse!
Kandira to Kadikoy 80km
After such a wonderfully luxurious night it was very hard to leave Sandy and Veysel's house. We had, probably, the best breakfast in the world and then prepared to leave. The hills today were mere morsels in comparisons to the beasts of the previous days, but we did have to race past a true gypsy village on the way out of Kandira, which Sandy told us 'was no place for a cultural moment!' The scenery here is amazing, the hills are covered with forest and look so lush and are full of wild roses which warm the cockles as I pass them.
I had a bad experience with a dog today, or rather the boy in charge of the dog. Humphrey passed without a hitch but as I went passed the look of glee on the boys face was a sight to behold as he was encouraging his dog to chase after me! As luck would have it the dog was only a puppy and the boys father was shouting at him to stop...but I was amazed! We reached the coast again today and to my relief it was flat, but then the wind started. I now know why people go mad in Patagonia because the sound of the wind for hours was almost tipping me over the edge...almost unbearable.
The Turkish genorosity never seems to stop, we passed a sports shop and we had a quick look for a cycling top for me and quickly discovered there was nothing I wanted. The shop owner, despite us not buying anything, sat us down offered us tea and then brought out a massive plate of home made stuffed vineleaves! And to top it off, when we couldn't finish the plate full, he gave us the rest to take away. They are all so kind, apart from the children who set dogs on me!
We finally pulled in to Kadikoy and there didn't seem like much there at all, so we went to investigate the beach as a potential camp site. To get to the beach we passed a long line of, what looked like, holiday homes. I was taking pictures of the beach and the very loud frogs that were in the pond next to it, when we were approached by a man with a beer in his hand. After the normal pleasantries of not understanding each other and us standing there like fools saying 'Thank you very much' in Turkish, as it is the only word we know, he invited us for a beer with his friend. We politely accepted secretly hoping we wouldn't have to stay too long, me especially as I was very tired. They kept pointing to the row of houses behind, which I think they were care takers for, and making sleeping gestures. We knew that they lived near so we thought that they were inviting us to stay in their homes, we were trepidatious about accepting thinking we might have to share the floor with their 5 children! After a little more stilted conversation it would have been impolite to refuse, but rather than take us to their home, they wheeled our bikes to the house at the end of the row with the best view of the sea, and took us in. The houses are Russian holiday homes and that was evident in this house as the shoes, food and toothbrushes were all as they had left them. They then proceeded to pick flowers for the table, lay out a spread of food that they had gone to buy and put the chairs out on the balcony! That night we had our own rooms and a working bathroom, what a treat! This place gets more and more crazy the deeper we go into it.
I had a bad experience with a dog today, or rather the boy in charge of the dog. Humphrey passed without a hitch but as I went passed the look of glee on the boys face was a sight to behold as he was encouraging his dog to chase after me! As luck would have it the dog was only a puppy and the boys father was shouting at him to stop...but I was amazed! We reached the coast again today and to my relief it was flat, but then the wind started. I now know why people go mad in Patagonia because the sound of the wind for hours was almost tipping me over the edge...almost unbearable.
The Turkish genorosity never seems to stop, we passed a sports shop and we had a quick look for a cycling top for me and quickly discovered there was nothing I wanted. The shop owner, despite us not buying anything, sat us down offered us tea and then brought out a massive plate of home made stuffed vineleaves! And to top it off, when we couldn't finish the plate full, he gave us the rest to take away. They are all so kind, apart from the children who set dogs on me!
We finally pulled in to Kadikoy and there didn't seem like much there at all, so we went to investigate the beach as a potential camp site. To get to the beach we passed a long line of, what looked like, holiday homes. I was taking pictures of the beach and the very loud frogs that were in the pond next to it, when we were approached by a man with a beer in his hand. After the normal pleasantries of not understanding each other and us standing there like fools saying 'Thank you very much' in Turkish, as it is the only word we know, he invited us for a beer with his friend. We politely accepted secretly hoping we wouldn't have to stay too long, me especially as I was very tired. They kept pointing to the row of houses behind, which I think they were care takers for, and making sleeping gestures. We knew that they lived near so we thought that they were inviting us to stay in their homes, we were trepidatious about accepting thinking we might have to share the floor with their 5 children! After a little more stilted conversation it would have been impolite to refuse, but rather than take us to their home, they wheeled our bikes to the house at the end of the row with the best view of the sea, and took us in. The houses are Russian holiday homes and that was evident in this house as the shoes, food and toothbrushes were all as they had left them. They then proceeded to pick flowers for the table, lay out a spread of food that they had gone to buy and put the chairs out on the balcony! That night we had our own rooms and a working bathroom, what a treat! This place gets more and more crazy the deeper we go into it.
Akcacese to Kandira 60km
I had my first dip in the sea this morning, a chilly but necessary wake up call. Today was another very hard day, more and more hills seem to appear. It is very hard to enjoy the downhills when you can see the uphill that is coming and you know the pain still hasn't faded from the one you so recently climbed. Our distance dropped dramatically from the fluke that was 100km on the first day, I think my body was trying to tell me something. We did see alot of tortoises though which is always a good oppotunity to stop for a couple of minutes.
We arrived in Kandira, a small inconsequential town that looked like there were no hotels to be seen. Our saviour arrived in the form of Veysel who pulled up next to us and asked us in perfect english if we needed any help. He quickly asked us to stay at his home with his American wife Sandy, which we accepted. My body gave up at the sight of the hill that led to his house and I had to push it all the way. Sandy could probably smell us a mile off as she ushered us into the shower having shown us what looked like the most comfortable bed in the world. After the best shower in the world they took us on a little tour of the coast surrounding Kandira. It was blowing a gale so the sea looked even more impressive, they took us to the three little coves each very different to the next but wonderfully remote. One where there was a line of fishermen waiting on the rocks to catch these tiny little fish that only appear at this time of year, and then off to the Kerpe rock which looked so impressive in the moonlight with the waves crashing around it.
The next door neighbours of Sandy and Veysel own a massive dog, a nice one this time. And Sandy told us that it is a Muslim dog! He starts to howl seconds before the call to prayer starts, probably the most devoted Muslim in the town!
It was such a relief to meet such kind people especially after what seemed like the hardest two days of my life...
We arrived in Kandira, a small inconsequential town that looked like there were no hotels to be seen. Our saviour arrived in the form of Veysel who pulled up next to us and asked us in perfect english if we needed any help. He quickly asked us to stay at his home with his American wife Sandy, which we accepted. My body gave up at the sight of the hill that led to his house and I had to push it all the way. Sandy could probably smell us a mile off as she ushered us into the shower having shown us what looked like the most comfortable bed in the world. After the best shower in the world they took us on a little tour of the coast surrounding Kandira. It was blowing a gale so the sea looked even more impressive, they took us to the three little coves each very different to the next but wonderfully remote. One where there was a line of fishermen waiting on the rocks to catch these tiny little fish that only appear at this time of year, and then off to the Kerpe rock which looked so impressive in the moonlight with the waves crashing around it.
The next door neighbours of Sandy and Veysel own a massive dog, a nice one this time. And Sandy told us that it is a Muslim dog! He starts to howl seconds before the call to prayer starts, probably the most devoted Muslim in the town!
It was such a relief to meet such kind people especially after what seemed like the hardest two days of my life...
Day One Istanbul to Akcacese 100 km
I was a sight to behold on the first morning, my bike fully loaded, basket attached and I could barely steer in a straight line!!! I was terrified! The whole bike seemed to wobble underneath me and I had no control. I scrabbled around trying to redistribute the weight in my panniers to make the front easier to steer, this helped a little but then I think it was me shaking instead of the bike so I couldn't win. We stopped for a few photos in front of Hagia Sophia and then we were off through Istanbul. Istanbul is home to 17 million people and so it took a long time to even get to the bridge which takes you over to the Asian side of Istanbul. This took me through my first dog experience, which is to become a common occurence and happens to up my speed by about 10km/hour and my heart beats twice as fast too. Three big dogs barking their heads off at me, and as I am always behind Humphrey I seem to get them in full barking mode. We bought sticks to try and fend them off but I don't think I will have time to use it, and we have since found out, much to the hilarity of everyone we meet, that the sticks are actually rolling pins!
Our first hurdle was the bridge, a huge suspension bridge which takes you to Asia. We started on what we thought was a path along side the road. How wrong we were, the police stopped us and told us to go round through the toll. I suggested we carry our bikes over the barrier once we were out of sight of him, which we did. Humphrey then said 'Cycle as fast as you can.' This was obviously going to invite trouble, and so my bike chain fell off 20 metres before the police man and the start of the bridge. Watching Humphrey speed off into the distance, I, panicstricken, put my chain back on and wobbled off as fast as I could, not daring to look up at what I am sure was an incredible view down the Bosphorus.
The rest of the day consisted of 60% cycling and 40% pushing as the hills got higher and higher and longer and longer. I was close to tears on that day and was wondering why I was there at all! We finally reached Akcacese which happened to be at the top of the biggest hill of the day and I begrudgingly refused a couple of lifts up the road by the lorries that roared past me watching me push Whinne up the hill. I was exhausted and was happy to finally get into bed that night, we camped by the beach that night although we didn't have a great nights sleep as there was a band who played the incessant Turkish music until almost midnight!
Our first hurdle was the bridge, a huge suspension bridge which takes you to Asia. We started on what we thought was a path along side the road. How wrong we were, the police stopped us and told us to go round through the toll. I suggested we carry our bikes over the barrier once we were out of sight of him, which we did. Humphrey then said 'Cycle as fast as you can.' This was obviously going to invite trouble, and so my bike chain fell off 20 metres before the police man and the start of the bridge. Watching Humphrey speed off into the distance, I, panicstricken, put my chain back on and wobbled off as fast as I could, not daring to look up at what I am sure was an incredible view down the Bosphorus.
The rest of the day consisted of 60% cycling and 40% pushing as the hills got higher and higher and longer and longer. I was close to tears on that day and was wondering why I was there at all! We finally reached Akcacese which happened to be at the top of the biggest hill of the day and I begrudgingly refused a couple of lifts up the road by the lorries that roared past me watching me push Whinne up the hill. I was exhausted and was happy to finally get into bed that night, we camped by the beach that night although we didn't have a great nights sleep as there was a band who played the incessant Turkish music until almost midnight!
Hereth Begin the Visa Saga...
A bright and early start on Monday morning to get to the Uzbek Embassy in good time, this happens to be an hour and a half away from the centre of Istanbul. We arrived half an hour early and were handed the visa forms to fill in, this always takes longer than you'd think as we have to find the most appealing thing to say so they let us in the country, our mode of transport does not appear on any of our forms! 10 o'clock came and went and we were still waiting there until 1030 when they finally decided to open to the 'masses' of people (5) who were waiting to hand in their forms in the hope of gaining a visa.
Getting the Uzbek one passed with out a hitch, he even managed a quick smile, before he told us to come back on Friday to pick it up this was not what we wanted to hear but we just smiled and carried on. We raced across town to try and get to the Azerbaijan Consul in the alotted time. The chap there was not quite so helpful. We asked if we could apply for a visa and he said no and then proceeded to give us a little lecture on why we couldn't get one with out a Letter of Invitation. The bottom line being, we have to get one for your country so, haha, we are going to make it even more difficult for you to get into ours...He revelled in his little power trip, and the frustrating thing is the rule only changed at the beginning of April.
The next day we were up early again, and I adorned my headscarf ready for my trip to the Iranian Consul to pick up the visa. This was a source of much worry for both of us, there was even talk of getting a faux wedding photo to try and ease the strain when we are there. But this was thankfully ditched as an idea. We went twice to the Consul only to realise that the life of a Consulate worker gets better and better, they not only celebrate their own countries festivals but they celebrate the countries' they're in as well. So the Iranians had a day off to celebrate a Turkish holiday. This was our third visit to try and collect this visa.
The rest of the day was spent seeing more sights. We took a boat up the Golden Horn to visit the seat of the Ecumenical Orthodox Patriarchate. This is the most important in Greek Orthodoxy. We arrived at prime time to witness a beautiful service that was all sung and really brought to life the icons which decorated the Church. Afterwards the priest, who was a tall man with a long grey pony tail and a rather pointed face, raced around with his camera, click, click, clicking away taking photos of the Church like a true tourist, and there we stood not taking any pictures for fear it would offend. This gave us licence to take as many as we liked.
A brief shopping trip to the bizaar is worth mentioning for the Japanese tourist we saw there. He was haggling hard for this tiny little musical instrument, breaking the seller down by another 5 lira (2 pounds 30) and not giving him any room for manouevre. When he finally agreed to the rock bottom price, the Japanese man drew out a 100 lira note (50 pounds) to pay for something worth 15 lira. I wish I had understood the curses uttered by the seller!!
Our fourth attempt at the Iranian consul was successful, we had to do alot of photo copying and more money was paid out, but we left our passports there over night and the next day we picked them up with a chiny new visa in it! It takes up a whole page, we were jubilant at the sight of them, and a bit apprehensive as it seems all the more real that we are going. I spent the afternoon in the Hammam to relax although there was panic there as I thought I had made a faux pas by not wearing anything, and misinterpreting the Turkish lady at the door, thankfully I hadn't as after they wash you they give you a pair of new knickers to wear around the baths, at first it was just me and a liberal looking old lady with nothing on and I felt a little self conscious to say the least...
Hagia Sophia was the last thing on our tourist list to see before we left and we gave it the time it deserves. The most incredible structure, built in 532 first as a Christian building with the most beautifully detailed mosiacs in Gold and then changed to a Mosque on my birthday in
the 1400s. It is quite extraordinary to see Christian icons next to Islamic text and tiling...It is worth coming to Istanbul just to see this although it is a shame it cannot be used as a place of worship anymore.
Friday was spent running around trying to sort everything out for our, much delayed, departure. And my nerves start to build!
Getting the Uzbek one passed with out a hitch, he even managed a quick smile, before he told us to come back on Friday to pick it up this was not what we wanted to hear but we just smiled and carried on. We raced across town to try and get to the Azerbaijan Consul in the alotted time. The chap there was not quite so helpful. We asked if we could apply for a visa and he said no and then proceeded to give us a little lecture on why we couldn't get one with out a Letter of Invitation. The bottom line being, we have to get one for your country so, haha, we are going to make it even more difficult for you to get into ours...He revelled in his little power trip, and the frustrating thing is the rule only changed at the beginning of April.
The next day we were up early again, and I adorned my headscarf ready for my trip to the Iranian Consul to pick up the visa. This was a source of much worry for both of us, there was even talk of getting a faux wedding photo to try and ease the strain when we are there. But this was thankfully ditched as an idea. We went twice to the Consul only to realise that the life of a Consulate worker gets better and better, they not only celebrate their own countries festivals but they celebrate the countries' they're in as well. So the Iranians had a day off to celebrate a Turkish holiday. This was our third visit to try and collect this visa.
The rest of the day was spent seeing more sights. We took a boat up the Golden Horn to visit the seat of the Ecumenical Orthodox Patriarchate. This is the most important in Greek Orthodoxy. We arrived at prime time to witness a beautiful service that was all sung and really brought to life the icons which decorated the Church. Afterwards the priest, who was a tall man with a long grey pony tail and a rather pointed face, raced around with his camera, click, click, clicking away taking photos of the Church like a true tourist, and there we stood not taking any pictures for fear it would offend. This gave us licence to take as many as we liked.
A brief shopping trip to the bizaar is worth mentioning for the Japanese tourist we saw there. He was haggling hard for this tiny little musical instrument, breaking the seller down by another 5 lira (2 pounds 30) and not giving him any room for manouevre. When he finally agreed to the rock bottom price, the Japanese man drew out a 100 lira note (50 pounds) to pay for something worth 15 lira. I wish I had understood the curses uttered by the seller!!
Our fourth attempt at the Iranian consul was successful, we had to do alot of photo copying and more money was paid out, but we left our passports there over night and the next day we picked them up with a chiny new visa in it! It takes up a whole page, we were jubilant at the sight of them, and a bit apprehensive as it seems all the more real that we are going. I spent the afternoon in the Hammam to relax although there was panic there as I thought I had made a faux pas by not wearing anything, and misinterpreting the Turkish lady at the door, thankfully I hadn't as after they wash you they give you a pair of new knickers to wear around the baths, at first it was just me and a liberal looking old lady with nothing on and I felt a little self conscious to say the least...
Hagia Sophia was the last thing on our tourist list to see before we left and we gave it the time it deserves. The most incredible structure, built in 532 first as a Christian building with the most beautifully detailed mosiacs in Gold and then changed to a Mosque on my birthday in
the 1400s. It is quite extraordinary to see Christian icons next to Islamic text and tiling...It is worth coming to Istanbul just to see this although it is a shame it cannot be used as a place of worship anymore.Friday was spent running around trying to sort everything out for our, much delayed, departure. And my nerves start to build!
Istanbul Cont...
Sorry to all for this taking so long!! The day after my last post was our first attempt at sorting out our visas for the most bureaucratically backward countries. We found out fairly quickly that the life of a diplomat and their staff is pretty easy; they are only open for visa business between the hours of 10 and 12 in the morning and as we only found this out at 1130 on Friday morning we realised we had a little more time to prepare ourselves for the nightmare to come.
I had my first experience in a headscarf when we went to get our visa photos for Iran. The scarf I bought in Morocco for this purpose was originally indigo but unfortunately it had a little accident in the washing machine and decided to shed it's colour and become a lovely shade of baby blue. This added to the panic of the night before leaving, as I was trying everything possible to get the blue dye off the rubber in my mothers washing machine!! The scarf is rather fetching when worn around the neck but combined with the blonde hair poking out and the blue eyes, it does make me look a little like the Virgin Mary, which may or may not sway in my favour in the future. We shall see...
The weekend was free of 'work' so we decided to enjoy the sights of Istanbul. Our first stop was the Basilica Cistern. This is an incredible feat of engineering, it is a cavernous underground space that was built to store enough water for the city in times of siege. It is supported by 336 pillars and the best thing about it is that all of the pillars are 'recycled' or stolen from ancient Roman or Greek sites. The proof is in the pudding when you go to the very back of the cistern and one of the supporting stones is a beautifully carved Medusa head that is on it's side, and another that is upside down! To us these are ancient relics to them a mere piece of rock...
We spent alot of time walking through the bizaar which is a higgledy piggledy mass of tiny streets which all look the same! Each shop seems to specialise in one thing and one thing only, they have no concept of diversification. The best was one little shop that sold every kind of napkin you could possibly imagine, but he only sold napkins no other dinner table accoutrements just the humble napkin, one would need to wind their way through the maze of streets to find a shop which only sold dinner cloths!
Around the streets of Istanbul you will find people selling anything and everything, one of the most common is the shoe polisher who often accost Humphrey about the state of his shoes. We walked past one of these shoe polishers and he accidentally dropped one of his brushes, being the trusting Brits we are, we quickly stooped down to pick up his brush for him, both thinking 'poor chap if he loses his brushes he loses his livelihood!' Humphrey was quickly snared into his trap and the chap tried all the harder to polish his shoes in 'thanks' for picking up his brush, the scene ended with Humphrey dragging his hand away as the chap said 'Don't break my heart!!' We were to witness this wily trick two more times...
The weekend ended with a trip to Hamdi, the best Kebab joint in town and with the most incredible views over the Bosphorus...a real treat watching the sun go down on the balcony looking out over to Asia.
I had my first experience in a headscarf when we went to get our visa photos for Iran. The scarf I bought in Morocco for this purpose was originally indigo but unfortunately it had a little accident in the washing machine and decided to shed it's colour and become a lovely shade of baby blue. This added to the panic of the night before leaving, as I was trying everything possible to get the blue dye off the rubber in my mothers washing machine!! The scarf is rather fetching when worn around the neck but combined with the blonde hair poking out and the blue eyes, it does make me look a little like the Virgin Mary, which may or may not sway in my favour in the future. We shall see...
The weekend was free of 'work' so we decided to enjoy the sights of Istanbul. Our first stop was the Basilica Cistern. This is an incredible feat of engineering, it is a cavernous underground space that was built to store enough water for the city in times of siege. It is supported by 336 pillars and the best thing about it is that all of the pillars are 'recycled' or stolen from ancient Roman or Greek sites. The proof is in the pudding when you go to the very back of the cistern and one of the supporting stones is a beautifully carved Medusa head that is on it's side, and another that is upside down! To us these are ancient relics to them a mere piece of rock...
We spent alot of time walking through the bizaar which is a higgledy piggledy mass of tiny streets which all look the same! Each shop seems to specialise in one thing and one thing only, they have no concept of diversification. The best was one little shop that sold every kind of napkin you could possibly imagine, but he only sold napkins no other dinner table accoutrements just the humble napkin, one would need to wind their way through the maze of streets to find a shop which only sold dinner cloths!
Around the streets of Istanbul you will find people selling anything and everything, one of the most common is the shoe polisher who often accost Humphrey about the state of his shoes. We walked past one of these shoe polishers and he accidentally dropped one of his brushes, being the trusting Brits we are, we quickly stooped down to pick up his brush for him, both thinking 'poor chap if he loses his brushes he loses his livelihood!' Humphrey was quickly snared into his trap and the chap tried all the harder to polish his shoes in 'thanks' for picking up his brush, the scene ended with Humphrey dragging his hand away as the chap said 'Don't break my heart!!' We were to witness this wily trick two more times...
The weekend ended with a trip to Hamdi, the best Kebab joint in town and with the most incredible views over the Bosphorus...a real treat watching the sun go down on the balcony looking out over to Asia.
Wednesday, 20 May 2009
Istanbul so far....
My first day in Istanbul was spent with a lovely Japanese guy, Yota, exploring the city and trying out the Turkish ice cream. This is worth noting as it is not the ice cream that we all know as being cold. This is chewy ice cream that is unlickable, I don't like it!!
I had been given a contact of a chap called Tom in Istanbul, who I contacted as soon as I arrived. He is working for a magazine over here, which is about Turkish culture and art. At about 4 in the afternoon I received a message from him inviting me to an exhibition opening at an art gallery, a regular occurence for him apparently! He said that it was quite smart, so I was thankful that I had brought a dress in my limited travelling wardrobe, but I asked him whether flip flops were ok and he replied 'It is pretty smart but I'm sure that you can get away with flip flops!' This was a sure enough sign that my foot wear needed to be addressed, a quick foray into the bazaar produced a pair of pumps, which have now become my embassy shoes and are very useful.
I arrived with trepidation at the tube stop and met Tom. We then had another journey to the gallery which was quite far up the Bosphorus and had amazing views over the water to the Asian side and all the way down. We arrived to be greeted by 6 security guards, with police cars lining the road in front of the entrance, along with a few blacked out ones for good measure. We walked up this long winding drive way and as we turned the corner at the top we were faced with a bank of paparazzi all taking pictures of, none other than, the president of Turkey!!! There was a line of people desperate to shake his hand, it was crazy! He walked past us shaking everyone's hand around us and took a quick glance at us and decided that these grinning English folk weren't worth bothering with! I regret now not telling him about my ensuing journey. Then I proceeded to slip over on the grass bank as we tried to sneak away by the back route having to be helped up by one of the many security guards. The whole of Turkish high society were at the event, and I was very pleased to have packed a dress and bought the shoes. Free wine and canopes followed with alot of gossiping about everyone there! It was certainly a great introduction to Turkey although I think that is about as smart as I am going to get for the next couple of months. We abused the lashings of free wine and got suitably tipsy before we went of to meet some of Toms friends to drink more wine.
Humphrey had, what sounds like, an awful journey in to Istanbul which fills me with fear about the journey out. I met him at the hostel, him looking bedgraggled and very tanned and me looking drunk, although I don't think he noticed.
The next few days were spent sightseeing. Istanbul is full of history and amazing things to see. Topkapi Palace was first, the Palace of the Sultans although we couldn't get in to the main event, the harem, as the ticket machine was broken and they didn't have enough initiative to find another way for us to go in. This was the first time, of many, that we both said "It wouldn't happen in Britain!" Our afternoon snack was a wonderful fried mackerel sandwich, the incredible thing is these are cooked on little boats near the bridge and at any hint of a wake from one of the many ferries going past the boats sway intolerably, almost going vertical from side to side and the chefs throw the sandwiches to the customers, it is a sight to behold but they are delicious and fresh. We met up with Tom and his friend Lara this evening and had a lovely meze meal which maybe stretched the 'travellers' budget that we are on but it was worth it.
I will continue this post later...
I had been given a contact of a chap called Tom in Istanbul, who I contacted as soon as I arrived. He is working for a magazine over here, which is about Turkish culture and art. At about 4 in the afternoon I received a message from him inviting me to an exhibition opening at an art gallery, a regular occurence for him apparently! He said that it was quite smart, so I was thankful that I had brought a dress in my limited travelling wardrobe, but I asked him whether flip flops were ok and he replied 'It is pretty smart but I'm sure that you can get away with flip flops!' This was a sure enough sign that my foot wear needed to be addressed, a quick foray into the bazaar produced a pair of pumps, which have now become my embassy shoes and are very useful.
I arrived with trepidation at the tube stop and met Tom. We then had another journey to the gallery which was quite far up the Bosphorus and had amazing views over the water to the Asian side and all the way down. We arrived to be greeted by 6 security guards, with police cars lining the road in front of the entrance, along with a few blacked out ones for good measure. We walked up this long winding drive way and as we turned the corner at the top we were faced with a bank of paparazzi all taking pictures of, none other than, the president of Turkey!!! There was a line of people desperate to shake his hand, it was crazy! He walked past us shaking everyone's hand around us and took a quick glance at us and decided that these grinning English folk weren't worth bothering with! I regret now not telling him about my ensuing journey. Then I proceeded to slip over on the grass bank as we tried to sneak away by the back route having to be helped up by one of the many security guards. The whole of Turkish high society were at the event, and I was very pleased to have packed a dress and bought the shoes. Free wine and canopes followed with alot of gossiping about everyone there! It was certainly a great introduction to Turkey although I think that is about as smart as I am going to get for the next couple of months. We abused the lashings of free wine and got suitably tipsy before we went of to meet some of Toms friends to drink more wine.
Humphrey had, what sounds like, an awful journey in to Istanbul which fills me with fear about the journey out. I met him at the hostel, him looking bedgraggled and very tanned and me looking drunk, although I don't think he noticed.
The next few days were spent sightseeing. Istanbul is full of history and amazing things to see. Topkapi Palace was first, the Palace of the Sultans although we couldn't get in to the main event, the harem, as the ticket machine was broken and they didn't have enough initiative to find another way for us to go in. This was the first time, of many, that we both said "It wouldn't happen in Britain!" Our afternoon snack was a wonderful fried mackerel sandwich, the incredible thing is these are cooked on little boats near the bridge and at any hint of a wake from one of the many ferries going past the boats sway intolerably, almost going vertical from side to side and the chefs throw the sandwiches to the customers, it is a sight to behold but they are delicious and fresh. We met up with Tom and his friend Lara this evening and had a lovely meze meal which maybe stretched the 'travellers' budget that we are on but it was worth it.
I will continue this post later...
The Tale Begins...
So I begin the story at last! I am sorry that this has taken so long to get going but things have been rather more stressful than anticipated. My good intentions to write something before I left went out the window when I was still packing my bike at 0200 the night before I left!
I had a lovely weekend before I left, driving around the country trying to see everyone before I left. Wales was the first stop to see Tessa before she gets married! I was duly charged the £5.40 to cross the bridge to Newport, however, like the Queen, I do not carry cash so there was a little bit of a panic at the 'border' and then frustration as I now have to pay double by cheque. Then I raced to Sherborn to see Isabella very briefly and then on to London to buy a pile of maps and guide books which are now proving very useful especially with trying to finalise our visa plans which is an administrative nightmare, but more on that later. Lunch with my brother and then onto see Patrick and Mazza looking very smart at Cav Mem and Nick who all reassured me I wasn't crazy.
Although I had a lovely weekend I think this may have been my downfall when it came to packing and last minute preps. Even on Monday day I was pretty relaxed buying the last few bits and bobs, come the evening the pressure was on. Thinking the bike would only take an hour, at nine in the evening, I started taking poor Winifred apart and try to make her as diminutive as possible for her journey to Istanbul. Low and behold she was 6 inches too long. Alex and I stood looking at her not knowing what to do, make the box bigger or, what?? Thankfully Dan came to the rescue and spent the next couple of hours stripping her of her pannier racks and mud guards to make her even smaller. This is while I was running around packing up my room and then packing my travel bags. A rather stressful night to say the least, and didn't end until I went to bed at four in the morning.
An early rise at six, and Dan kindly took me to the airport which saved me an even earlier coach ride. Thank you! I checked in and Whinnie weighed in at 28 kg and my bag was 13kg so I am not as light as I would have liked but I am reading fast to try and get rid of some of the books I have brought with me.
The flight was fine and BA even provided us with a meal which was a real treat and I was very pleased I didn't go with easyjet. But, just as I was dosing off, they said over the tannoy that we were going to have to land at Budapest because of a 'funny smell' on the plane. This turned into a 4 hour stop over and I did not get to Istanbul until nine in the evening.
I had a lovely weekend before I left, driving around the country trying to see everyone before I left. Wales was the first stop to see Tessa before she gets married! I was duly charged the £5.40 to cross the bridge to Newport, however, like the Queen, I do not carry cash so there was a little bit of a panic at the 'border' and then frustration as I now have to pay double by cheque. Then I raced to Sherborn to see Isabella very briefly and then on to London to buy a pile of maps and guide books which are now proving very useful especially with trying to finalise our visa plans which is an administrative nightmare, but more on that later. Lunch with my brother and then onto see Patrick and Mazza looking very smart at Cav Mem and Nick who all reassured me I wasn't crazy.
Although I had a lovely weekend I think this may have been my downfall when it came to packing and last minute preps. Even on Monday day I was pretty relaxed buying the last few bits and bobs, come the evening the pressure was on. Thinking the bike would only take an hour, at nine in the evening, I started taking poor Winifred apart and try to make her as diminutive as possible for her journey to Istanbul. Low and behold she was 6 inches too long. Alex and I stood looking at her not knowing what to do, make the box bigger or, what?? Thankfully Dan came to the rescue and spent the next couple of hours stripping her of her pannier racks and mud guards to make her even smaller. This is while I was running around packing up my room and then packing my travel bags. A rather stressful night to say the least, and didn't end until I went to bed at four in the morning.
An early rise at six, and Dan kindly took me to the airport which saved me an even earlier coach ride. Thank you! I checked in and Whinnie weighed in at 28 kg and my bag was 13kg so I am not as light as I would have liked but I am reading fast to try and get rid of some of the books I have brought with me.
The flight was fine and BA even provided us with a meal which was a real treat and I was very pleased I didn't go with easyjet. But, just as I was dosing off, they said over the tannoy that we were going to have to land at Budapest because of a 'funny smell' on the plane. This turned into a 4 hour stop over and I did not get to Istanbul until nine in the evening.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)