And then – 68 days after I started this trip back in Sweden, I reached Turkey. Entering the country I didn’t need a visa, but this border crossing was something very different from any of the others I’d passed to get there. More stern faces. More guns. More people who wanted to see my passport. And even one who decided to scan through my bags.
It all took quite a lot of time, and when I finally got to enter, my ears were ringing like crazy after standing in the middle of all the car and truck drivers honking out their frustrations for waiting in line to the passport checkpoints.
When I entered it was already afternoon, and my plan was to cycle as far as I could from the border before finding a place to spend my first night on Turkish grounds. The mainroad going from the border was huge and very busy, but lucky for me I was given a three meter wide shoulder so I wasn’t too bothered by the traffic.
The road was in surprisingly good condition and I could cover quite a lot of distance without that much effort. The landscape was pretty hilly and gave me nice views, so apart from speedy cars and loud trucks I had some pretty nice hours of cycling before stopping for the day.
When without good options for wild camping, a pretty much foolproof way of getting a safe and nice place to sleep is to ask the closest farmer for permission to camp on his grounds. As long as the communication works out, this is basically never a problem, and sometimes you’re even lucky enough to get more than a patch of grass.
This was one of those nights and farmer Engin let me in like it was the most natural thing in the world. After showing me his 40 cows and trying to teach me the names of his nine dogs, he got me my very own room to spend the night. Jackpot!
At home, a room like this probably wouldn’t impress me much, but then and there I genuinely felt like I had everything one could ask for. So what if the place has a weird smell, some dust and a few spiders? I have a roof, a bed and a super nice old man preparing çay downstairs. Life is good.
Before reaching Istanbul I had three days of riding. To get off the mainroad I took some detours on smaller and a lot calmer roads. Riding into Istanbul I knew I would get my fair share of traffic no matter what, so I figured it’d be worth some extra distance to get away from it as long as possible.
I’ve told you a thousand times about all the generous people I’ve been bumbing into ever since I started cycling. However, Turkey very quickly climbed to the top and has by far the most hospitable people of any country I’ve been to. It’s absolutely crazy.
It seems like as soon as I step of my bike, someone is popping up from behind to offer me çay (turkish tea), coffee, bread, icecream or whatever they have to offer. And turning down their gift is simply not an option.
Day 1 and my first ever glass of çay. And a bracelet I was randomly given with it
Day 3 and my …100th? glass of çay
All in all I was pretty much eating and drinking my way to Istanbul. And my last night before I actually entered the city I stayed with a great Turkish family who made it their mission to stuff me with all the traditional Turkish foods and drinks they could think of.
After a never ending breakfast, I was ready.
Ready to finish off my journey through Europe by taking on the dreaded road into Istanbul!