Vita activa

Konya was both a destination I wasn’t sure I was going to reach, and just something on the way to “better things”. While writing this I am already in Konya; but those experiences come separately.

I had hardly left Pamukkale, did I come upon a small town (Kocadere) with some sort of festivity going on, from what it looked like. I turned around to just go around, but from all sides people people — men and women — waved at me to come join them and to eat and have chai. I wanted to decline, but no chance: I was put on a long table and given food and chai, along with other men who were eating silently. Kids also wanted to know (without speaking English of course) where I was from, someone who spoke English-but-not-really-English was brought in, etc. Turns out, someone’s father had died, I believe, and in that village they them do such a thing in his honour, if I understood it correctly. They weren’t celebrating, but it wasn’t a funeral setting either.

So then I had to climb, slowly, to around 800 meter. And up there the clouds were very dark: I kept checking my phone, which said it wasn’t going to rain, but got very nervous over the dark clouds. And then 10 minutes later I was pretty much in them: sandclouds. You couldn’t see the mountains because it was so thick—amazing view though. 10 km on that was accompanied by white soil near a lake, and I had just come from Pamukkale: this here was white due to sodium (which they were also digging out). I then also camped in where one of the lakes was supposed to be, and where some guys were also hunting for something until it got dark. One of the nicest spots.

Next day, 10 km in, wanted to refill my water at one of the many taps they have here, and was stopped by a farmer who wanted to know more (which I obviously couldn’t easily tell him) and above all wanted to offer me çay. Well, and food. Actually food first, lots of it, and then tea. Super simple house but such a nice guy. After that one of the climbs that komoot said was “tarmac” was a horrible steep gravel climb, so I was alternating pushing and trying to cycle up for a long time. Very exhausting day.

Slept near (15 km and one climb before) eğirdir, and there I ran into two dutch cyclists who just come from Konya. Chatted a bit—they had been on the road a lot longer than I — and for only the second time since leaving I cycled together with others for about a minute; they went the other way though, and just came from Konya by bus. So after some (too many, I can never stop buying stuff) groceries, I went along my way to the other side of the lake: beautiful view and great fruit. And lots, lots, lots of apples.

I wanted to sleep near the lake so didn’t go too far, chilled on a beach for a while, and then took the last exit from when the road turned inwards to just look for a spot to camp. Went and asked some older turkish lady whether I could, and it turned out the place I was asking to stay was from a french couple. They were ok with it, and when they arrived home, I was offered food, ponsec, raki, and so much hospitality. Even though I asked whether I could just sleep on their land. By the way, I was the second Dutch person who asked that: the first was a few months back, when they were in france. Also, the thing with greeting women and not being greeted back… its a thing, and its hard and complicated. Lets just leave it at that.

Oh, and the lake was about 30 meters smaller than it used to be just where I was, because everyone in the neighbourhood pumps the water out to grow apples. Thats how many apples are grown there.

So that is meal three in three days. Day four I first had breakfast with them, had lots of climbing to do; but that went fine and even the gravel climb was totally ok! … So, had a break, made coffee, and… flat tire, probably glass somewhere. Tried to put the new tire I bought in Selçuk on: the valve is to fat to fit in the wheel. Hooray. Suddenly my optimism was gone —I still had one extra tire with me which I fitted on, but couldn’t have any situations that would have me needing to change the tube anymore, or I would be f*ckd. (Of course this always happens with touring, but it sucks when it happens. Have to get some new tubes and stuff soon, I just want to be prepared.)

After that everything went fine, either because or in spite of my optimism that it would be fine, and I managed to reach Beysehir lake; absolutely beautiful natural park also on the way. The reason for taking the bus — this is a cycling trip after all? The road looked boring, I want to go to decathlon in Konya, and I wanted to get to Cappadocia quicker, because the weather might turn bad, and because even after turkish coffee and a total baklava overload I still didn’t feel like cycling. Looks like I might make Cappadocia, which I would never have guessed. Weather gods have been favourable so far.

So now one day Konya, and then on eastward to see what everyone says is the most beautiful thing in Turkey. (I will probably disagree.)Leggi altro