Beaches and Beanies

Firstly a point of order. Some have noticed an absence of photos from our trip. We have some very illustrative shots that we would love to share with you but an absence of internet cafes and cable stores has made the transfer of data problematic. We here at Fareid Saunders enterprises apoligise for the inconvienice and are working dilligently to rectify the problem in the coming weeks. Until then a 'thousand words' will have to be worth 'a thousand words'.

I am looking at the choppy waters of the Black Sea. The cobbled streets and historic houses have been retrofit for tourist action. The sounds of smooth, indesipherable, valiumic latinyfunkyjazz provide the backing for a cheescake sitting in its cool glass cage. But like the cheescake, this town is intended to be used at a different time. Though unlike its cakey compatriate the town is made for the future (summer) and the cake should have been eaten a few days ago.

We arrived in Sozopol yesterday and are having a rest day after our first six days of riding. We explored this beach getaway and found about four percent of the the shops to be open. In fact our arrival at the hotel seemed to catch them off gaurd. "Guests? But you need a down jacket just to approach the waters edge.". That said the ladies who run this hotel have been very easy and welcoming and put on lovely meals for us so nothing bad has come of our entrance!

Since last post we continued to grow our quadraceps at the expence of roads that snaked and coughed through industrial towns for a while. Between the towns the country started to open up, mostly farmed land and not much in the way of trees. Our last night in Turkey was in the large town of Kirkrelli. Our first kilometre along the fourty kilometer journey to the border introduced us to a road of a quality that we had not yet encountered. Autobarn esq highway and very little in the way of traffic and it was flat... for about ten kilometers and then began the climb. Climb we did for about thirty liometers to the border. Our last experience of Turkey, after having our documents checked was at the last checkpoint. At the boomgate that seperated us from no mans land and eventually Bulgaria was a man. The border gaurd and three of his friends, all having a tea party. Ahhh, we laughed, took photos and hugged as if we were old fiends upon departure. It was a wonderful way to leave the country and the symbolism was not lost on us.

Entry into Bulgaria was matter of fact, without emotion and eerily quiet. We came down the first hill into the first town. It was late afternoon and we were tired and a little apprehnisive as to what this new country would be like. Immidiately the vibrancy of the people had all but switched off. All were stonefaced and the familiar symphony of encouraging honks was replaced by the sparcley connectd chug of 1960's diesl VW vans.

We pushed on the the top of a nearby hill and set up camp for the evening. Shortly thereafter we were joined by a friendly dog. Who stayed with us until bored of our company and then journeyed off into the bushes. The night passed without event until day break. "Karro. Karro. Do you hear that?... Let's get up". We arose and what we had heard was the mumbles of a Sheepless Shepard wandering the hills in the glory of a new morning. Harmless but never the less an effective alarm. The day was magic and the riding fantastic. The spring time oak forrest with a charmimg pot holed road excited the imagination and was an awesome experience.

And now here we are at the Black Sea. The journey has started and looking back at our start in Asia on the other side of the Bosphorous it seems a long time ago now. The next big challenge is the Transalvanian Mountains in Romania. Home of Dracula, maybe we will eat some strange new things? But not the cheescake that has, since I begun writing, been removed from its transperant paleative care unit and is now hopefully destroyed.

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A taste for ındustry

Önder, the owner of the hotel, kıcked a lovely man off the ınternet.  Thıs mıght even be hıs room that we are sıttıng ın typıng away at thıs post.  Who knows?  He defınately dıd not need to do thıs for us, there ıs an ınternet cafe next door.  Regardless thıs ıs exactly as we have come to know the Turkısh people.  They are extrodınarıly hospıtable, very gıvıng and go out of thıer way to be frıendly.  Yesterday, our fırst day of actual peddlıng, we were met wıth honks and waves the entıre day.  One tıme when endulgıng my fondness for voyeuerısm I peeked a man ın a room.  He peeked me.  We both smıled, he held up hıs tea and poınted quızzıcally.  The offer of tea, I have come to thınk that drınkıng tea ıs at the heart of a good socıety, from now on I wıll offer tea to all.

 Not to harp on about tea, but I wıll, another offer of tea came as we pedal whıpped ınto the ındustrıal cıty of Saray.  We trıed to tell the man that we would be back once we found a room but thıs was not communıcated.  He seemed slıghtly dejected.  We found our room at the Elıt Otel (not nearly as elıte as one mıght expect) and then headed back to the man`s glorıfıed kebab van.  So happy was he that the tea flowed and even our ınabılıty to communıcate on anythıng but the most retarded levels of logıc dıd not dısguıse the fact that all partıes were ecstatıc.  A sandwhıch followed, then more tea....  At the end of a lovely lunch our offer to pay was refused.  It ıs hard to express how lovely ıt felt to have such an ınteractıon.  But ın a town that ıs so scrathed up and covered ın the soot of an almost contınual flow of unhealthy traffıc to fınd a vıbrant happıness so close to that mucky surface was delıghtful.

The trıp has other fantastıc facets besıdes tea storıes; Four days ın Istanbul, 2 days of rıdıng, many meals, many people, lıghtnıng and haıl, sweat ınducıng sunshıne, but there ıs no tıme or space for thıs now.  Suffıce to say we are ınto frıendlıness and tea at the moment.

Thoughts of Karolına: Istanbul was wonderful and Sultanahmet was nıcely overprıced and tourıst fırendly.  We stayed at a good hostel and met some fabulous people. But most of all, apart from apple tea and TURKISH DELIGHT (delıghtful ındeed) what I personally loved the most about Istanbul was the cats!!! Lovely goregous cat everywhere, cuddlıng and snugglıng wıth everyone. We even had a prıvate kıtten theatre one mornıng! They played amongst pıllows and rugs...  Istanbul ıs worth vısıtıng I have to say.

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The faint hum of something interesting

Hello,

I know something is coming. Largely because we have to move out of our house. Books are in boxes, clothes in cars and we sitting in a room 60 kilometers away. It is far easier to procrastinate from a distance.

In a week and a half we will be flying into Istanbul, Turkey. Like any trip there are many things to be done before we get on the plane but right now we are content to hide in a room at the farm. The planned move from procrastination to action has no urgency attached to it at the moment. Rather it feels as if we have mud on our boots and instead of stopping to clean it up we are content to plod on. In fact I reckon we will be taking a little mud on the plane with us.

Through the haze of menial chores there is a gentle whirr of an engine and past that the high pitched hum of a thin tyre on asphalt. See, Karolina and I got infected by ideas of 'freedom' and 'freedom' in this instance is to be found in a bike, some panniers, a tent and the thousands of kilometers of road through Eastern Europe. So thats the plan, what it will look like in its activation is anyones guess. I only have two images that seem to circulate with some comedic regularity. Both involve Karolina laughing at me as I am the victim of unrequited physical love. The first at the hands of a gypsy and the second... a bear.

This trip is a bit of a mystery and as time solves it for us we will keep you posted.

Until the next post it is packing and cleaning, but first something else.