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!