Wednesday October 16
Cycle: 75.54km//5hr 14min//14.42km/hr
When cycle touring, it is important to distinguish between orange roads, red roads, yellow roads, white roads, and roads with numbers: 1, 2, 3, or 4! It means all the difference to the amount and kind of traffic you will encounter: cars, scooters, horse-drawn buggies, farm machinery, or massive trucks. It can also mean the difference between paved with shoulder, paved without shoulder, gravel service road, or rutted dirt road. Then there is road choice and scenery to consider. Yellow, red, and orange' roads, in increasing order, offer the path of least resistance, but have less interesting terrain and views. Small villages are bypassed, for example. White roads, our favorite kind, squiggle their way up and down every hill, mountain, river, valley, and take you through every nook and cranny of the countryside, including fields, villages, and ocean side, all far from most traffic.
The coastal route in Turkey along the Mediterranean is primarily the D400, a red road. It is well paved, has good shoulders,' (most of the time), is tolerant of cyclists (most of the time), but still has fast and loud traffic that grates of the nerves and dulls the sense. Quickly we decided that where ever possible, we would get off the red road, and explore the white roads, come what may. On day one of this strategy, this entailed an endless succession of 12-17% grade hills over gravelly roads, and a more intimate experience with the little villages and people. You can see how things are done, or used to be done here (some villages appearing locked in time).
We left the D400 at the turn off for Olympos ruins, stopping briefly to look out over the valley we were about to enter. The terrain looked: daunting. The roads were cut into varied stone limestone, sandstone, chalky stone, granite and the land was full of pomegranate, lime, and olive trees, not to mention hothouses growing tomato and peppers. We passed over many wide riverbeds, completely dry at this time of year. Hard to believe they really flow with water, at any time of the year. The air was dry and hot, we quickly learned that "sehil" means beach, and headed straight for one. Hence, we found ourselves in Cavuskoy.
Here we sat with a couple of beers and ate lunch in the shade, watching people swimming. Soon we opted to join, making this our first swim in the Mediterranean. It was so wonderful! Clear waters, sandy ocean floor, an impossible number of blues all melded together, ocean and sky.
Back on the bikes, the ocean side ride on our white road back to the D400 (below Kumlucha) was indescribably beautiful. Hilly yes, but around every turn, another secluded beach surrounded by dazzling blue water. In stark contrast, back on the D400, Kumlucha lies in a flat plain with intensive farming no shortage of dilapidated and DIY houses. Still, many glimpses of people gathered round tables or covered areas drinking cay and seeming very content with life.
It was getting late, the sun had set, and we were trying to find a place to wild camp outside Finike, quickly. Scoping out a trail down to the ocean, we spotted a couple of Turkish men (late teens/early twenties) enjoying the beach. We retreated, not wanting to attract attention, or interest. Alas, we were spotted, and soon had company. Our hand forced, we started chatting to them. They seemed very friendly (although neither of us spoke the other language). Nevertheless in short time, they managed to communicate that we should go with them to enjoy the beautiful beach, together. The conversation would be thrilling, no doubt. The bubble burst. These two boys just confirmed what tourist information warns of, Turkish men being overly forward with female tourists. Then the game of cat and mouse really began. We went to leave (by bike), they followed us (on scooter). We turned to go the other direction (on loaded touring bikes), and they followed again (two men on a scooter)!!! I wondered how long this could go on, but luckily, before it became insufferable, they tired of our scowls, and scooted away never to be seen again. See ya! However, now we were on a stretch of road with no obvious place to camp. On the left, the ocean. On the right, white rugged cliffs devoid of even a respectable shrub! At a corner in the road, we saw a beach resort, and pulled off to investigate. We found it unattended/unoccupied, and with a tunnel under the road to access the beach. The tunnel became our home for the night.
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| Our first wild camp experience in Turkey. A good one, among the pine trees. |
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| Cooking our egg sandwiches with Turkish ingredients: Turkish cumin sausage, cucumber, giant eggs. |
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| Pine cones, pine needles, and these flowers (called?) adorned our camp site. |
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| Pomegranates trees heavily laden with fruit would quickly become a familiar site. |
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| Pomegranate trees interlaced with olive trees as far as we coul see. |
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How touristy ? This touristy. This I can handle.
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| Also, donkey's would become a familiar site. And, unlike miniature ponies, they're really useful! And actually used! |
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| Who needs a guard rail? |
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| Rolling up to the beach in Cavuskoy. |
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Efes, the only beer in Turkey (that doesn't cost an arm and a leg), and is available EVERYWHERE.
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| Also, crystal clear water, everywhere. |
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| Looking back towards Cavuskoy. Clear skies, blue water. |
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| Look, yet another beach. |
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| And another, this time with some large boulders thrown in the mix. |
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| Locals collecting firewood. |
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| We saw our first tortoise today. This one is alive, but hiding at the moment. It looks like he's had it rough, cracks in his shell and all. |
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| Typical Turkish cemetery. White marble. Squares. |
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| An orange picked from a tree!! And about to be eaten. Notice the gloves are off. |
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We're approaching the D400 again. Sadly. Make shift hot houses are everywhere, and look as if they might topple over or rust into oblivion at any moment. Construction quality, questionable.
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| How does this hair happen!! |
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