Day 106: Mytilini

Friday November 22

Cycled: None

The day that it rained, rained, stopped raining, and then started raining again. 

We awoke to Nadia creating a fire in the wood stove centered in the living room, meanwhile it absolutely poured rain outside. Sitting by that fire, stoking it, worshiping it, is how we spent the better part of the day, accompanied by Molly the Dog. In the evening we explored Mytiline, ate gyros from GyroMania, and listened to traditional Greek music while drinking ouzo with new faces and friends. 

In the space of time that it stopped raining, the clouds and sun joined in for a very beautiful and interesting sky over Mytilini.

Now found at every corner store for  3 Euro or less: Ouzo.

Molly the Dog, one of our WarmShowers hosts.

A somewhat forlorn Madalene looks into a shop in Mytilini all decked out for Christmas.

Madalene and Jenn enjoying Greek music and ouzo with Nadia, Lisa, and Evgenia, welcoming friends in Mytilini.

Oh, heaven forbid: I am one who delights in all manifestations of the Terpsichorean muse!

Living the dream in Mytilini

Day 105: Altin - Mytilini

Thursday November 21

Cycled: 44.34km//3hr19min//13.36km/hr

A beautiful mild morning by the sea reminded us that straying from the coast will get you into temperature troubles. We headed for Ayvalik, departure point for our ferry to Lesvos, Greece, after a relaxing morning of coffees and eggs. We began our ride by taking the 'scenic route', one that follows the edge of the coast. It was far from scenic - we were too busy sweating and focusing on the road in front of us, because the hills were outrageous, one exceeding a 20% grade that and could only be ridden by switch-backing up. The first chance we got, we opted to get back on the highway. The remainder of the ride was uneventful, except for the strong headwind that whipped up in the final 15km stretch to our destination.

We arrived in Ayvalik with time to spare, and opted for a light meal along the waters edge to pass the time. The ferry fun began at the security line up approximately 1 hour before departure. Ladies appeared, young and old, who had an incomprehensible need to be at the front of the line at all costs. Bags overflowing, boxes piled high, you'd think it was Black Friday. These ladies achieved new heights in rapid speech and hand gesturing, making the women of Turkey seem like church mice.

We arrived in Mytilini, and found our way to small local cafe (MPompiras), where we were introduced to rakomelo, or three. Of course, these were consumed with a delicious spicy feta dish, beef tongue, and rooster with mushrooms. It was warm enough to sit outside on their patio, even when it began to down poured (thankfully, there was a protective umbrella). This is where our WarmShowers host, Lisa, found us.

Deserted beaches are the new norm.

Fishing boats in Ayvalik, bobbing beneath a rather threatening sky.

Madalene enjoying our last meal in Turkey, calamari.

Jenn's glamour shot aboard our ferry to Lesvos.

The brights lights of Mytilini. Obviously, there is still a Turkish (muslim, mosque) influence on Lesvos

Rakomelo: 1-2 teaspoons of honey for every 4 shots of raki, along with one clove and 1 teaspoon of cinnamon. Chiefly consumed during the winter as a warm drink. 

Madalene warms up with rakomellow.

The weather took a turn for the worse.

Day 104: Ivrindy - Altin

Wednesday November 20

Cycled: 58.18km//3hr8min//18.52km/hr

Today we were treated to a dry morning, and a bit of sunshine, phew!. Today's objectives were: pass over the last mountain range, hit the coast, find a campsite (that is open), and shower. The mornings ride started with a 90 minute climb, which was a moderate, dare I say, enjoyable, grade. After that, a glorious 20 km descent out of the mountains, made sweeter by fresh new tarmac, surprisingly little traffic, the shining suin, and the wind at our backs. We descended onto flatlands monopolized by olive trees as far as the eye could see. We passed countless groups of people in the middle of harvesting: men hitting laden branches with long whacking sticks, women sitting beneath sorting olives from twigs and leaves.

The GPS informed us of Altin Campground along the coast, and luckily is was actually open. We were welcomed in by a man speaking Turkish and French, but little English. Again, we were the only customers, and we got front row tenting, right next to the waters edge. The shower was fantastic, an 8/10, hot and clean. Sadly, wi fi was largely a fail. Madalene took on a little Poppet project, and discovered that both of her tires need to be replaced (ASAP).

The day became much more interesting when we accepted an invitation for cai with the camp chef and night watchman. We were treated to freshly roasted chestnuts (roasted on the stove/heater right in the room), and of course, conversation. Let me just say, its amazing what you can communicate with the help of an iPad translator app, and a little bit of creativity. Turns out the chef was university educated, from Ankara, and an inventor with multiple patents. We think he patented something for: (1) spring loaded shoes, (2) a sophisticated interlocking cai pot, (3) an unusually opening window. But, we can't be entirely sure. 

Our lovely campsite was in a small pine forest surrounding a reservoir.  It was close, but for enough, from the highway, barking dogs, inquisitive shepherds.

A cute yellow mosque en route sets off the changing leaves, don't you think?

Jenn rides over the last hill before we head down to the coast. Some would say a taxi would be easier, but getting there under your own steam has indescribable rewards.

Descending to the coast, falling rock signs are everywhere. But, seriously, often does this actually happen?

It happens here! Indeed, half the highway is closed. Luckily, Turks excel at using impromptu go a rounds.

The flat run to the coast was blanketed in olive groves. Harvest is in full swing.

We've fully embraced roadside fruit stands now. They are have the cheapest and tastiest fruit, usually harvested right next door.

The process of setting up camp begins again.

Another very empty campground. We would be the only guests.

Madalene discovers that not one, but two, of her tires need to be replaced. Lesson learned: buck up and buy expensive touring tires (before any other upgrade or splurge purchase). Otherwise, Poppet is still going strong.

Not good.

The sun setting over the Aegean, looking towards Greece, our next destination.

Day 103: Orhanlar - Ivrindy

Tuesday November 19

Cycle: 54.93km//3hr 51min//14.23km/hr

Today we awoke to a Turkish man calling from outside our tent. Our Turkish is limited - about 10 words - none of which we heard, making things a little awkward. Genida!! offered Jenn, quickly deploying her distraction strategy of being overly friendly. She proceeded outside of the tent, and after a largely incomprehensible exchange, was offered ekmek and smiles. She managed to understand "dog", a sweeping hand gesture, and determined it must have been his dog that we heard all night. 

Breaking camp was a slow process, slowed by the thick fog that hung on everything, blocking out the sun, and soaking the tent. Rolling out at 10 am, we'd gone about 10m when Jenn realized that her front tire was flat .True, nasty sharp thorn bushes peppered our otherwise lovely camping spot. It was a quick fix, and we were on the road  again. The next 30 km would be very cold and even quieter - courtesy of the fog which would suddenly lift and descend for reasons I couldn't determine. Was it that we passed a river? Was it that we gained elevation? Was it that we were in a valley ? Fog knows. En route we passed a mixture of villages, small to big, and were universally stared at by everyone. I don't think this area of Turkey sees many tourists, especially cycle tourists, both girls, in November. We picnicked at an abandoned fruit stand - a telling sign of the season, before rejoined a highway heading west to the coast. Thankfully, we left behind the major hills, trading them for smooth new tarmac. 

Around 4PM we spotted a forest suitable for camping, far away from goats, fields, and barking dogs. It was still early when we arrived, and light, so Madalene went for a stroll to scope out the place. Once it was properly dark, Madalene built a fire (our second fire of the trip) to ward off cold, and raise our spirits. We went to bed at  a respectable 8PM, stones from the fire transferring warmth into the tent (and melting a bag or two). 

The view from our tent epitomized fall. 

The fog was cold and wet, making breaking camp a difficult task.

One of the offending thorn trees that must have given Jenn's bike a flat. In the background, hanging bread, for keeping the herd dogs motivated.

Jenn fixed the flat in a jiffy, and we were off again.

This was a hard day to get through. Something about the dark, damp, and quietening fog, and the undeniable truth that winter is coming, it not already here.

Fires are good for the soul. So are fire roasted vegetables!

Day 102: Bandirma - Orhanlar

Monday November 18

Cycled: 71.53km/ 3hr59min/ 18 km/hr

So much for 'keep the rubber side down'.

Today is the day that had to happen... eventually. But why today! We had to leave the comfort and security of Selin's palace in Bandirma. We pushed off with our bellies full, and completely caffeinated. Nevertheless, it was tough getting started. We are riding into another unknown -- winter cycle touring -- and we don't have anymore safe-houses or friends along the way. Selin got us started (she may have been wondering if we ever going to leave) by taking us to the road that would lead to Gonen. We bid her a very difficult farewell. We (I) really didn't want to go - its not always easy. Thankfully, even the wind tried to give us a helping hand, blowing us strongly steadily SW. We opted to ride the main road to Gonen as it made the distance as short as possible, and traffic really wasn't that bad. Flat as it was, we were in Gonen in no time (a mere 30km). We passed through without much ado, and continued SW over rolling hills that gradually gaining elevation and grade. We enjoyed a roadside picnic along a flat agricultural section, admiring a surprisingly old but agile sheep-herder-ess tending to her goats and intermittently sewing. Back on the road, the hills continued to appear and disappear under our toil. We climbed and descended, being treated to views of valleys in the throws of fall. Oak trees turning yellow and brown, fields freshly turned over.  In keeping with the season, sundown fell upon us quickly, and we hastily gathered supplies in a tiny village. Five minutes away from the village, we chose a camping spot on a dirt road next to the main road, nicely hidden between bushes and trees. Unfortunately, during the night, it would become quite evident that we were nearby goats being shepherded by people and dogs, the latter of which would bark at us for the better part of our stay. Jenn was convinced she heard footsteps and an animal rubbing up against our panniers/bikes in late evening. After sun set, the air acquired a certain nip, a harsh edge we haven't experienced before, and we soon burrowed into the tent for warmth. 

Our campsite was blanketed in these little guys. 

Day 101: Bandirma

Sunday November 17

Our last day of luxury. Our last day of conversation with familiar friends! Our last day in a cozy bed. Our last day with 3 coffees and a giant Turkish breakfast waiting for us in a kitchen. Emily arrived (Selin's friend from Athens) and we sat down to our morning feast. I know I've already described the many wondrous and delicious items in such a breakfast, so I'll only highlight a new star: green fig jam, except the fig is whole and imbued with a light honey/sugar taste. In typical Turkish fashion, we took a long time eating and chatting, and before we knew it, the time was 2PM. Unexpectedly, a knock came at the door. Selin was not expecting anyone. It was an unknown downstairs neighbor bringing Selin 'ashure', also known as Noah's Pudding. This treat is a mixture of grains, fruit, and nuts, and is prepared with special prayers for health, healing, safety, succcess, and spiritual nourishment. It was very tasty, and nourishing, in every possible way.

 Not wanting to completely miss out on this sunny day, we ventured out for a stroll in a nearby pine tree stand. We completed the outlined 1.5 km loop of the the mini forest, and even found a dead snake in the process. Maybe the snake was faking, it was cold. Next, we went Bandirma's pier. Jenn and I walked out to the end of the pier, an impromptu cat sanctuary, and popular fishing spot; meanwhile, Deniz, Selin, and Emily, held down the for at a tea and hooka shop. When we found these three, they were drinking cay and smoking cappuccino flavored hookah. Again, in Turkish fashion, we tea'd and hooka'd day light away. We lazily returned to the house and relaxed. The finale for the evening was dinner -- Turkish ravioli (manti). Mint, yogurt, olive oil, and mini raviolis stuffed with meat. It was delicious - and filling! 

Deniz, Selin, Emily, and Madalene closely inspect the dish that just unexpectedly arrived at the door.

Grain, fruit, and nuts in this Ashure (Noah's Pudding). We quickly devoured it.

Looking out at the cargo ships anchored near Bandirma. That water is starting to look really cold.

Madalene, Deniz, Selin, and Emily stroll the mini pine forest loop in Bandirma.

The view of Bandirma from the end of the pier.

Selin slaves over dinner -- homemade manti.

Yogurt, mint, and olive oil. Who knew you would marry so perfectly ? My new mantra for cooking is: use dried mint with reckless abandon.

Jenn, Madalene, and Deniz waiting to dive into the manti. This would be our last feast with friends before cycling off into the unknown again!

Day 100: Istanbul - Bandirma

Saturday November 16

We were on the road by 5:30 am to catch our 7 am ferry to Bandirma. Delicious food would await us there, this much we knew. In the dark drizzle, we passed through an almost empty Taksim Square - only all night partyers and early morning paper delivery guys about. Not surprisingly, Madalene rode over glass, and got a flat. Thankfully we left with time to spare for just this reason. We found a nicely lit place in front of the Dutch consulate to perform a record breaking tube change, and made it to the ferry just as Deniz hopped out of a taxi. We all settled into our assigned seats, and put on our headphones to get just a little more sleep.

We arrived in Bandirma and were ushered to Selin's home (true, after a little of navigational confusion). After no less than 3 coffees (yes, we are addicted) and a hot shower, we sat down to a beautiful homemade Turkish breakfast! (Eating was a much loved theme of our time with Selin and Deniz). 

After breakfast, we decided to investigate Bandirma. We walked along the waterfront, over oddly painted bridges leading to nowhere, and looked into fishing stalls. It wasn't too long before we'd more or less 'seen' Bandirma. What to do next? Selin had an answer. We found ourselves in her hair salon, Betty, and lined up for haircuts (which were much needed -- I hardly had a chance to resist). 

We walked out of the salon looking much more respectable than we walked in, and headed to the small village of Aerdek for dinner on a 'lil boat. Thankfully Deniz and Selin were there to order for us, I didn't see much English around. We sampled perfectly deep fried mussels on skewers, calamari, and plates of little fishes. So fresh, so greasy, and so delicious. I imagine they would make a mean onion ring as well.

Changing a flat at 6am in front of the Dutch Consulate in Istanbul.

Turkish breakfast courtesy of Selin. Here I discovered my new favorite cheese dish, made with Lor Peyniri (a little like cottage cheese, but less salty, and more interesting

Chilling out at fish stalls in Bandirma.

Madalene, Deniz, and Selin brave the bridge to nowhere.

As seen in Bandirma. I'm still speechless. At least nothing is being wasted.

Jenn getting a haircut at Betty in Bandirma.

I was tricked into getting a hair cut too. Good bye scruff.

Deep fried mussels! A-mazing. Must be eated within 1 minute of coming out of the fryer.

We were on a boat in Aerdek for this fishy feast.