Wednesday 18 May 2011

The Road To Nowhere

Wouldn't want that to happen
 Yesterday I was having a çay (apple tea) when I got into a very animated conversation with an excitable gentleman. I think my favourite part of the conversation is when the realisation sinks in that there is no understanding and the conversationst says the same things much much slower. The result is still no understanding but I have a good grasp on how to pronounce whatever it is that he was saying. Looking at the drawing he made he either had a wife with big boobs or he had a wife for me also with big boobs. It may well have been that he used the brests in the picture to distinguish between the other figures I am not sure which. It was kind of like playing charades and never really knowing if your guesses were correct. Heading North to follow the Black Sea I ended up on a very remote and painfully inadequate road. I have come to expect the roads even in rural Turkey to be very well maintained this was raising a few lemons, so many so that I back tracked almost 20km to where I made a turn to head f the pictionary man. Now again on the straight and narrowI am sitting in a stuffy internet cafe with 20 adolesent boys all interchanging between facebook and world of war craft. I guess some things are universal.
Ayasofya - Istanbul

Getting out of Istanbul took all of my emotional stamina and 60km of hard yakka to relieve myself of the constant stream of traffic. At one stage I was in one of about 12 lanes stretching across the tarmac. I thought to myself.... hmmmmmm this looks like a fairly major road....turns out I was on one of the only bicycle banned roads in the country and one called the 'otoban' oto being turk for car or vehicle. So using all of my mental aptitude in one fowl swoop I jumped over the guard rail on the bridge I was on. I was now between the guard rail and the rail of the bridge. I wasnt so much on a footpath as a quickly narrowing gap between the rails. When my bags got caught between the opposing rails and I could go no further my only real choice was to back up and lift my bike over the rail onto the otoban and jump on seemlessly. Steading myself I jumped the rail, bike in tow jumped on ready to race away only to be thwarted by my chain having come off and jamming between the chain ring and the crank. BALLS BALLS BALLS, back on the other side of the rail I did what I could as quickly as I could and away I went rolling with traffic on a road I never should have been on. Does not matter now, I am out in the country and loving the breezy meadows with all the spring flowers.
A few of the locals. They loved the bike. Hadımköy

I have decided to spend a few more daysin Turkey than I was origionally intending too,all these new fandangled words I want to use before I get to Bulgaria and need new ones.

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