Salda

As we leave Pamukkale, the weather is grey, windy, threatening. The next destination is 110km, and a 1370m high pass away. We plan to pitch the tent 8 km from the pass in Karaçai. We bravely climb through a few showers, the traffic is sparse, and it's wild. As we enter Karaçai to ask where we could stay, a happy gang invites us for freshly-made fritters and chai. This is much welcome in this weather. After much laughter, small chat and 3 of each, we enquire about pitching a tent. "There is a place on the plateau 6 km away, the guard will help you! It's open, there are warm showers etc..."

After 8 km of climbing in fog, drizzle, and crepuscule, we have reached the place. It's advertised. It's at our 1370m pass. It's very windy... and.it's.closed. We retreat in the field across the road, a place beckons under that pine. We mud-up our wheels and mudgards for the third time but manage to pitch, peg, cook, in the howling darkness. We are soon tucked in, with only the fear that the mud blocks will freeze on our wheels.

The next day is sunny. Nothing, and nobody froze. We travel by villages and farmland, and by midafternoon arrive in sight of a marvellous little volcanic lake with bright blue waters and white sand. We download our panniers in our room, and treat ourselves to a little tour along the coast until sunset.Read more