Crossing the continental border

Last few days were quite eventful. Last things first: I am now officially in Asia (regardless of what this platform says, I am pretty sure Edirne is still Europe). Ironically, Canakkale is more European than the European part of Turkey.

But let’s go through this chronologically. Like 15 km outside of Edirne, I got held up by the military, which was pretty cool. Nice guys: apparently I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be. Photos weren’t allowed though. After a while the gravel turned rough, the roads went up, and the wind started kicking in. And I can tell you, in this part of Turkey there is no cover from the wind.

So, looking for a supermarket and shelter in this part of Turkey wasn’t that easy, but on the first slightly bigger town (or just “town” in any other country) I first had 10 turkish men around me, wanting to show me the way to the supermarket and wanting to know where I was from, all conversing through some translation app. At the supermarket I was invited to tea, all kids wanted to know where I was from, second tea; you really feel you’re being rude on leaving. I got a short entourage out of town by kids running along—immediately after though, on a busy car road, full headwind exposure with steep climbs immediately makes you forget all that. A double-faced country.

Camped at a lake where in a town nearby they were playing folk music (its not all islamic), and the next day, after a hilly tiring start, I got again invited for tea. “Stay overnight!” “Have you eaten?” (For context, this was a very small farmer’s town.) I got introduced to this guys’ family, introduced to everybody, got a big big meal, more tea, more google-translating: Just an amazing experience. I left after about an hour, getting tired quickly around groups of people and still having a long road ahead, and immediately the winds and hills made me regret that decision. After maybe 35 exhausting kilometers (which might have taken 3 hours) I again entered something-which-isn’t-a-town-but-has-a-name, and a turkish guy who lived in Austria approached me and immediately arranged that I could pitch my tent at the restaurant. Dude, these people are friendly.

Now, short intermezzo: at the lake I was awoken by a load “gulp” noise in the middle of the night. I had all my food packed away closed and unreachable by not-too-agile animals, but outside I had bags with electronics and toiletries. So what was this gulp?! Well, in the morning I think I established the source to be a (big-ass) frog. (S)he didn’t take anything… At the restaurant, I was also waken, but by a small kitty, being very curious and actually having found and taken my bread. The second didn’t worry me at night, but was more annoying. There’s no point Im making here, but both the frog and kitty deserves mention. Or maybe the point is that it’s nicer to be woke up by kitties, regardless of the consequences.

Next day I actually avoided stopping at villages because I was tired, too tired for conversations and translating, etc. (Well, I did accept the compulsory tea at the restaurant, with someone who lived in Linz for a while!) After my first nail and tubeless plug, and many many hills, I got to some very small village and, being exhausted (12% fully loaded means pushing) I decided to push my luck to ask some woman where I could camp: maybe this person would let me camp on her beautiful garden… I got told, somewhat aggressively, to “ yürü, yürü!” Obviously I dont know what that meant, but the piece of onion she threw at my leg said enough. (It seems to mean “to walk”, so I think she told me to fuck off… Am I not supposed to ask women things in islamic countries maybe?)

Well, whatever, I found some trees near the next village which were occluding enough.

Then, the next day, and last day of this post, about 15-20 km in, I got followed not by children but by very ferocious and scary dogs, four of them. Teeth exposed, you get the picture. And they wouldn’t stop following, all shouting was futile—it was scary. The owner was there but clearly didn’t care, or was just totally unsuitable for keeping a dog (let alone 4). Luckily a car followed me shortly, giving me some extra space so I could outsprint these horrible, absolutely horrible, animals. One followed me for 500m to maybe a kilometer: I hate these dogs. I get why people generalize, I distrust all dogs here now also.

Ok, so I made it to Eceabat, and I thought… this place is a shithole. Just small shoppy looking markets, nothing there, no restaurants... Took the ferry to the other side — that being cinakkale —and it’s a totally different continent, literally and figuratively speaking. Except Canakkale is modern, alive, European, and has a lot going for it. Continents got swapped here somewhere along the way.

Last point to make: I get told 5 times a day here that allahu akbar through loud speakers, so it must be true.Read more