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27 Mar 2015
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Turkey (2014)
TURKEY
April / May 2014
(solo ride)
Just two weeks of vacation and a target 5,000 km away. To drive there takes six days for each side and I burn the holidays. Solution? Catch a plane and rent a bike.
Life is about choices and travel plans also. In a country eight times bigger than Portugal I must select a region. I chose the South Mediterranean coast and Central Anatolia, a path with an Ottoman aroma that I can do in two weeks.
I found that a motorbike rental price in Istanbul is pornographic. It is cheaper to take my bike there. But as always, out of the "famous" tourist circuits things are different. In Antalya I found several motorbike rental companies at a reasonable price. I choose one with no reason. Just because their Internet page was well made, had good customer reviews and because it was one of those things we call "feeling". Rented a Yamaha 660R at good price that allows me to drive any type of road.
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Landed in Antalya near midnight. It was the cheapest flight I found. Mr Guven is waiting for me. Its part of the bike rental service pack the airport transfer to the hotel. He recognized me for the helmet bag hanging on my shoulder.
The way to the hotel is by wide avenues, well lighted, roundabouts and traffic lights working. A modern cosmopolitan city. I’m feeling a bit ignorant. I thought I would find a traffic chaos in this country. Mr. Guven, in reasonable English, explains the history of the places we pass. When we arrived at the Hotel he had lost the ceremony and bombards me with questions about my plans.
Show him the route map I want to do. We talk until very late. Insists to explain me how Turks are. Tells me that in touristic places no one will bother me but further inland, where they are not used to tourists, surely I will be harass with questions, with the aggravating circumstance of being very rare to see a woman in a bike alone. Advised me to be careful, not to talk too much. But tell me I should not be afraid. Turkey is a very safe country.
PS: He just forgot to mention one word: They're boring, don’t stop asking questions. However quickly give up at the first frown.
In my travel plan is scheduled to stay one day in Antalya. To familiarize with the culture and prepare departure. Arrange to pick the bike after lunch and deal with paperwork.
I take the morning to visit the city. Antalya is a popular tourist destination. A city facing the Mediterranean, a small historic centre well preserved with strong Roman presence. Ruins spread around the city and surrounding areas. One enters the old city by Adriano door, an arch built in honour of the Roman emperor who visited the city in 130 AD. Like any Arab country, trade takes up the streets, tourist shops with rugs, colourful ceramics, trinkets, articles (identified) as fake, spices artfully arranged in pyramids lined in colours and many, many restaurants. It smells of kebabs.
The Turks are aggressive negotiators. The Morocco negotiation tactics don’t work here. The method is more psychological. They start by calling us with a smile. Then, they wrap us with compliments and flirting, do a very interested look about our country, offer tea and Turkish delights and if we are not shop vaccinated we leave the store full of trinkets and with no money.
The small marina is full of pirate’s boats that make coastal cruises. All in wood with statues of movie pirates, mermaids and sea monsters. Cruise sellers call tourists. Hundreds of tourists in slippers and with red skin invade the shops. Japanese, Germans and Russians.
When I picked the bike had another one of those "feelings". This registration can only promise good vibes. Do not know anything about numerology but this combination appeals to me. I will make a good trip.
Leaving Antalya was a nightmare. According to the indications, just go down the avenue and right over there I find the coast road. So close that it took me two hours to leave the city. Yes, it was easy, the avenue was wide, but had 20 km of blocked traffic and traffic lights. I begin to think that in here everything is big and far. Only 50 km after leaving the town I felt on vacation. Finally, a road without traffic, open countryside.
The Turks drive quite pushy. A bit chaotic for our well behaved Western habits. Yes, there are traffic rules they meet. But they only stop on the intersection limit line. Until I get used to it I caught a few scares. Honked like a crazy. Sometimes afraid, others in rage, because of the overcoming raids that made. The trucks are kings of the road. No, not old and rusty. Recent and modern, silent and fast machines, in line behind each other, filling the road. The most prudent is to go out of their way. Take it slow.
(....)
Last edited by Paula K; 13 Apr 2015 at 13:43.
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27 Mar 2015
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HU Founder
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Welcome to HU Paula! Looks like you have some great photos and stories, I look forward to reading more!
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Grant Johnson
Seek, and ye shall find.
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Inspiring, Informing and Connecting travellers since 1997!
www.HorizonsUnlimited.com
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27 Mar 2015
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Join Date: Mar 2014
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Grant Johnson
Welcome to HU Paula! Looks like you have some great photos and stories, I look forward to reading more!
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Thank you Grant.
Yes, I have a some photos  I will put them here with the ride tales.
Hope someone like it
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27 Mar 2015
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Join Date: Mar 2014
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TURKEY
April / May 2014
(solo ride)
The 1st travel stage is short. 200 km to Kas, by a road always along the coast, sometimes climbing hills, sometimes by the sea. I stop in a small town where St. Nicholas, Bishop of Demre lived, whose sarcophagus is in a church built in his honour. According to the legend, St. Nicholas was famous for its miracles and generosity. His remains were taken to Italy by merchants and his holiness led him to become patron saint of Greece and Russia. Devotion of the patron St. Nicholas gave rise to the Santa Claus character we know today. In the city centre there is a statue with an explanatory tombstone.
Very close to Demre are Myra Tombs, an intricate network of ancient tombs excavated in the hill dated back to IV AC century. Later the Romans built an acropolis which the theatre is still well preserved. The road access to the ruins is full of St. Nicholas religious souvenir shops and sacred stones from the ruins. It’s 10 Lira to visit. I leave the bike near an orange juice stand. The boy says he lookout, no problem. Says I must be very strong to ride with such a big bike. Widens his eyes looking at it.
Arrive in Kas in the evening. The road goes down the hill with a superb view. Small islands near the coast, a harbour full of boats. A beautiful fishing village. The esplanade by the sea is full of foreigners. I only hear English speaking. I ask for a tea and wait for the British couple who kindly invited me to spend the night at his house. David and Juliet are retired and told me that travelled the South of Portugal and Spain looking for a house to buy. The prices were so expensive that they ended here. Love living here. Life is much cheaper and people very hospitable. In the area there are thousands of Englishmen who have adopted Turkey. It was the 1st surprise of the day. In the course of the conversation they comment that the island, just ahead of us, belongs to Greece. We can reach it swimming. No wonder that the Turks have itchiness having the Greeks by the door. Ancient wars.
When I travel alone I like to start at dawn. There is no traffic, the morning light is fantastic. The road from Kas to Kalkan runs always by the sea. Wide, well signposted, delicious windy road curves. Awesome. Feel like doing it back and forth several times. The sea is blue-green, calm waters, broad horizon. It’s called the Turkish Riviera.
David ride with me to Kalkan. Has a bike just like the one I rented. He knows well the area and occasionally disappears to appear later in the top of a curve with the camera in hand. Took fantastic photos.
The greatest difficulty of anyone traveling alone is to appear in the photos. I am often asked why I take so many pictures of my bike ... well, because there is no one around to take pictures of me.

Photo by David Bird

Photo by David Bird

Photo by David Bird

Photo by David Bird

Photo by David Bird

Photo by David Bird

Photo by David Bird
In Kalkan I took the road inland towards Pamukkale. It starts to rain, a flood that accompanied me through the 300 km to the famous "cotton castle". I planned to visit the complex in the afternoon. But it doesn’t stop raining. Change of plans. Spend all afternoon talking with the friendly hotel owner who offered to take me up there tomorrow.
Dawned sunny. On the back seat of an electric scooter that has seen better days, with no helmet, the Hotel owner took me to the south gate of Hierapolis, 6 km from the village. It took me over 2 hours to visit the majestic ruins and many others wandering in the terraces and pools of warm water. It is mandatory to walk barefoot through the pools. The ground is soft and white. The water runs warm.
Pamukkale, a UNESCO heritage, is a complex formed by thermal hot calcareous springs that along the centuries formed pools and terraces on the hillside. They say the water has medicinal properties and cure various diseases. At the top of the hill are the ruins of a roman city - Hierapolis - including a thermal pool known as Cleopatra's Pool, a monument built on the site where it is believed the Apostle Philip was crucified, a Roman theatre and other ruins.
(...)
Last edited by Paula K; 13 Apr 2015 at 13:41.
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Turkey (2014)
Last edited by Paula K; 13 Apr 2015 at 13:44.
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