I hoped they were having more success with camping sites that I had been having. As the summer holidays had not started, all the camping grounds seemed closed. I had only managed to stay at one site being far to chicken to take my bike off the road to ‘wild camp’ the excuse given because I haven’t really found any places that would be suitable, there are cranky wild pigs and dogs out there and if I drop the bike on some ‘off the road’ path I can’t pick it up. So I’m lugging all this camping gear and not using it. I’ll have to make a decision about what I’m going to do with it when I get to Kas. That’s where I’m staying with a British couple and could possibly leave some equipment with them.
Travelling along the country lanes was great until I reached the highway. Then the road threw itself up steep hills that twisted with what would have been a brilliant view if fog just off the edge hadn't blinded my vision. I had no idea if I was near the sea or the moon or godzilla. The road was polished smooth in spots and then just as quickly as it ascended it curled down with deep grooves in the road from trucks braking on tight corners. Finally I reached the sea and quant turned into road works, mud and endless carbon copy summer houses (currently vacant).
I found I was playing the passing game with one particular car so at a traffic light I waved. The driver pulled down the window and said something I couldn’t understand but in the end he motioned 'slow slow there are many road traffic traps in this section' - “ahh thanks”. As I didn’t have a speedo - that was always really fun. I’d slow down to what I thought the through town speeds were only to be passed by cars that obviously snorted rocket juice. Then when I’m passed by a scooters holding mum, dad and a tribe of children I think “ok so I‘m going too slow” …and I’d speed up only to watch them slam on the brakes when there was a speed trap…“ahhh…so they may have been going more than the limit.” It seems as though most of the traps are for the locals as they wave me through when they seem to ask everyone else to stop and show their papers.
The rain started to fall and I felt the back wheel slide out a couple of times on the slippery roads so I pulled up at a service station to wait it out. I’d been told that it will only rain for 30 mins or so in Turkey and then it’s right again. Two hours, four chais and a kebab later, it’s still raining and the kind owners (who are feeling sorry for me) are trying to look up weather maps. I didn’t know if the road ahead was going to be flat or going through glass surfaced twisty hills and that freaked me out. The owners come back saying it will either rain until 3pm or it will get worse at 3pm. Couldn’t quite work it out but here is a break in the weather and some blue sky in the direction I’m heading so I put on some courage and head off. The rain clears but the gloomy clouds remain with the wind drying the road for me. The target is Bergama before the rain starts again….which it does just as I hit the town so I pull up at the first hotel I can see hoping the price will be ok…30 Lira including breakfast - brilliant. “Is the bike ok out the front”..no I’ll need to bring it in…first time in Turkey it hasn’t been a ‘no worries’ response. I lug everything up 3 flights of stairs. It is dark as it doesn't have any windows, just automatic lights that tended to turn themselves on just when you got to them, not the 5 steps before that you transversed in the dark.
After sitting around for so much of the day, I needed to walk. I’m about 2km from the centre of the city so I set off, looking the complete tourist with backpack and camera. The rich colours, styles and symbolism of costumes in the museum makes me wonder where did vibrancy go? How wonderful to be married in a costume that had the colours of the rainbow on your head to ensure protection from Heaven?? I, of course, missed the royal wedding but I reckon Kate could have looked spectacular in a traditional Ottoman outfit! The effort that went into old buildings with marble gods battling out the myths. Who would we put on our buildings these days? Steven Hawkins attacking the Pope with his wheel chair? Not so romantic. Even less romantic when a group of younger school kids who have obviously been playing with Google translator walk by saying “hey you lady…fuck you" (followed by laughter). “Hey...fuck you” again and again, with more gusto. I pretend I’m a German nomad…I don’t see, hear or respond and finally they go away - like those pesky Australian motorbike riders who insist on waving at us.
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| What it looks like when I unpack |
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| Ginger spending time with the owner's Suzuki overnight |
I always wanted to be a spy. The main problem with my Bond fantasising is the fact that you can read me like a book and sometimes it takes a while for me to notice something…errr important. I was walking quickly back to the hotel as it was starting to get dark and I wanted to up the exercise my butt was receiving. I’m passing everyone else but after a while I hear the sound of synthetic material almost in rhythm with myself. I think…"ah, they must be in a hurry as well". It’s then that I’m sure another Honda Dominator goes flying past on the street so I stop abruptly to look, also catching a glimpse of syntho-man in the process…youngish (early twenties) nothing too special. When I start walking again, I see syntho-man was walking slowly about 10 metres in front of me…that’s werid I thought he was in a hurry…so I set off walking quickly and it’s not long before I hear the rustling behind me again. That’s not just weird, that’s a little bit creepy. I test it out and stop again to look at food in a shop. Syntho-man has stopped too about 15 metres up the road and is on the phone. Ok - so I’m being followed. I’ve been approached by all sorts of people…kids wanting to practise their English mainly but this seemed different. I’m keen to get back to the hotel, but I’m just as keen not to let this guy know where I’m staying. I’d heard that morning that Bin Lardin was killed…I didn’t know what this was.
I walk slowly trying to keep syntho-man in front of me. I also take off my sunglasses…look guys, I’ve got LOTS of wrinkles - just in case they were into other stuff. I can see 50 meters away on the corner a bike store that I passed as I came into town. It’s owner had given me a friendly wave and it’s still open. Syntho-man is walking so slowly that I eventually pass him - I don’t want him to know I’m onto him. I’m 15 meters away from the shop and two other guys are coming in the other direction, they both stare at me as I go past them and I can hear them greeting syntho-man behind me - I assume it was them he called. I duck into the shop and start a lengthy discussion with the owner (and finally find some chain lube). By the time I’ve finished enough chais to fill an Olympic swimming pool, the guys have move back towards the city and I sneak into my hotel - two doors up unnoticed.
It spooked me a little bit and the funny feeling was back in my stomach...but this time not because I was being a chicken. It may have been nothing…I’ll never know but the place just didn’t feel right - it‘s the first time I‘ve met swearing kids, had to lock my bike, climbed stairs in the semi darkness and just as I was going to bed the most freaky laughing I have ever heard coming from down the hall, not just weird, freaky. I make sure the door was double locked and snuggled up...a doona has magical powers to protect oneself from all manner of things.
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| View of the street from my doona |
I wasn’t sure whether to just get on the road early tomorrow morning or visit the sites I had come to see. Magical doonas and a good breakfast cleared away yesterday and I decided to see one before I left -mainly because the storm clouds were starting to threaten again (so I couldn't see both) but also because I didn‘t want the trip to be a waste of time. Reading the guidebook the Asclepion won and may have explained some of yesterday. It was an ancient health centre that used dream analysis and in recent times modern psychiatry loves to hold seminars there…hmmmm. My choice meant I would be able to drink from the sacred well which is permanently feed by a mountain spring. Like countless other loony’s before me, I slurped away….freaky laughter circling my head and wondering what the rest of the day will bring....
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| Asclepion entrance column with snakes "shed your illness like a snake sheds its skin" |
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| Sacred well - tap juice - slurp away |
Total kilometres travelled: 778
Tiimes folllwed by men: 1
Nights Ginger has spent inside: 1
Swapping funny sign language eposides with lovely service station guys while waiting for rain to stop: 7
Drinking of sacred tap juice: 4 slurps...just for good measure
View from Doona...very scary!!!
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