Day 62
The road to Antalya was very open and the route that I had chosen swept South down from the mountains
and then along the shore of a large lake and eventually via some boring fast dual carriageway heading to the city.
I did stop at the side of the road for a cup of tea and found that the resteraunt specialised in fish, you just had to pick which one that you wanted to eat!
By late afternoon I had reached Antalya and I found a very nice hotel for under 20 Euros per night where I stayed for 2 nights giving me time to explore the city. The city has been a fortress town for most of its former inhabitants, the Greeks, Romans, Byzantinists, and Ottomans, and there a large number of buildings and structures that speak to this past. I found the old town very pleasing to walk around but unfortunately the shops that fill it are all designed for the typical western tourist which I am not. Very pretty but artificial and expensive.
Day 63
I left Antalya for the West coast of Turkey and this day was to be more of an adventure than I had planned. I rode along the very scenic coast for a bit and then turned inland toward the mountains, the rain came and went for a couple of hours and by the time I had reached Fethiye it had all but disappeared. As I rode North along the coast the weather began to brighten up and after stopping for a coffee and to stretch my legs I looked at the map for a suitable evening stop, I decided that the coastal town of Kusadasi looked like a good option so I headed for it. As I started to approach the town the road was blocked by an overturned vehicle, I waited with all the other vehicles whilst the road was cleared and then I rode on thinking no more about it.
On reaching the town in late afternoon I was surprised to see throngs of people on the streets, many more than in any other part of Turkey. There were people everywhere, standing on street corners, family groups sitting on pieces of vacant ground in between the buildings on every street and it was all very unusual. I found my hotel which was on the shore. It was a modern concrete structure having about 10 floors, my room was on the 1st floor thankfully. As I made my way to the room with my bags I noticed paint flakes on the carpet of the first floor hallway. I assumed that someone had struck the edge of the wall with a suitcase or something similar and paid no further attention. Once settled in I went out for some food and whilst sitting enjoying a post dinner coffee and cigar I felt the ground move beneath me, it was a really weird sensation. I looked around and saw people moving out of the nearby bars, suddenly all that I had seen clicked in to place, it was an earthquake. I then saw on a TV in one of the bars the devastation in the city of Izmir, that lay some 50 miles to the north and the epicenter of the earthquake was about 20 miles out to sea directly West of where I was.
I went back in to the hotel to check and to my horror I saw large vertical cracks in the structure of the hotel next to the reception. The paint flakes that I had seen earlier were from similar cracks on the 1st floor near my room.
I had a new dilemma. It was now 8 0’clock in the evening, do I stay in the hotel? Or do I pack up and leave? Within the hour I was on the road again and heading North to Izmir. I never ride at night if I can help it but needs must and an hour later I was passing through Izmir. As by this time it was dark, everywhere in the city I could see flashing blue lights. I pushed on heading North and by 3 o’clock in the morning I was too tired to go any further. In the mountains near Ezine I pulled of the road in to an olive grove at the side of the road, threw up my tent, and crawled in for some badly needed sleep.
4 hours later as the sun broke the horizon I was packed up and on my way to the Dardanelles and as the sun got higher, it got warmer and the height of the coastal road affored great views over the islands near to the mainland.
On my way I passed the place where the Ancient city of Troy had been situated so I was compelled to do the tourist bit and take a few snaps.
Then it was a quick ferry ride over the Dardanelles straight and back in to Europe.
I then rode on along the coast to Gallipoli to try to see the First World War museum there as my paternal grandfather had fought there with the British Army Black Watch Regiment during WW1 but due to the ongoing madness, like a lot of other places, it was closed.
So I rode on, all that day in fact, and by mid afternoon I was in the city of Kirklareli which is about 20 miles from the Turkish/Bulgarian border where I managed to get a decent hotel for under 20 Euros.