In fact, these are all probably quite true, determinable from the inescapable need to address our truancy, alone, but that last week, in the sentimental expression of  “oh man” accompanied with eyes looking to the floor and a drop of the chest in a warm sigh,  “that was good”, was really, really good!

To say we were lucky is an understatement; we were downright blessed. In fact, that statement really ought to be spread across the whole of our social experiences of Turkey in the last 35 days of our journey, and the whole of our past three and a half months in general, with obvious standouts. But we reserve that sentence now for the last week, for that is the subject of this post, not a total recall or sentimental recollection of our favorites of the journey as a whole, written so as to find some closure. No, this is just about the last week, which one could argue, does the job on its own.

We arrived to Istanbul a day earlier than expected, and were having some difficulty connecting via telephone with our contact there. We arrived on a ferry just after dusk and decided to grab a hotel room in Sultanahmet, to recoup and attack Istanbul city streets to find Celal (in the Turkish language ‘C’s are pronounced as ‘J’s) the next day. We got a fresh start in the morning, leaving part of our luggage at the hotel we were to check into in four days time.

Riding around Istanbul was a trip and our map only covered, in detail, the center of the city 20 million people. We were in search of Bagicilar neighborhood and kept an eye on our compass to keep us heading generally in the right direction through the labyrinth, until a man on a messenger’s scooter asked us where we were headed – in Turkish, of course – and no sooner had we said, he was off with a wave of his hand indicating his hire as our fearless leader through the muck of round-a-bouts and underpasses and streets nary have seen a tourist. He led us almost nearly all the way to the center of Bagicilar, often blocking traffic to get us through roundabouts safely. It took us maybe an hour and a half to navigate the 20 km to Bagicilar (bah-je-lar) that would have otherwise taken us three on our own.

We got to the Mosque where we had planned to meet Celal and were immediately surrounded by a large group of curious men, intrigued by our bicycles, and amazed there were tourists in their neighborhood. We tried to answer their questions as we waited for Celal and were really excited to find ourselves outside of the tourist center, laden with prodding vendors touting the best of Istanbul in their respective restaurant.

We were to stay in Celal’s uncle’s home, and we didn’t really know what to expect, at all and what we got was far beyond our expectations…..way beyond.  We are enamored with the Aslan family.

There wasn’t a single person in the whole neighborhood that didn’t seem to be one of Celal’s uncles, or aunts, or cousins, and one by one, they came to the apartment to meet us. We were showered with incredible food on the low table in the living room, smoked nargile and worked navigate our language barriers. Luckily we had Celal, a Rotary International exchange student in Woodstock, IL the year prior (hence our roundabout way of getting into contact) to help translate.

We stayed with the family for four or five days until we had to check into a hotel we had arranged, in order to have an address to ship our bike boxes, prior to our departure from the states. It was hard to explain to the family why we were going to stay in a hotel and not finish out our stay in their home, because we couldn’t really explain it to ourselves. We felt a bit empty and insincere when we first sat in our hotel room alone. It didn’t feel right, but we needed to do it. We had work to do, those bikes weren’t going to disassemble and pack themselves and there wasn’t really anyway to sort out our final tasks in the Aslan’s home. Not because it was small or anything had any derogatory characteristics, no we say this because of their overwhelming hospitality, and our incessant curiosity produced an environment that would drive one to tell oneself, on a reoccurring basis, ‘Oh that important task can wait until a little later’.

Of course we saw the sites, feel head over heels with Islamic tiles, found the best bowl of lentil soup, bartered at the Grand Bazaar and strolled as tourists in Taksim. But our Istanbul is in Bagiclar.  We went to the Aslan’s for one last dinner the night before our early morning departure, (this time without, Celal’s translation service as he had to go back to school) and left with open invitations to visit their family in the east of Turkey, and plan to do so on the second leg of our cycling Journey, aka, our Honeymoon!

Our Motor Scooter Guide through the twisting, turning, round-a-bout, filled street of Greater Istanbul! Our morning Hero!

Our first Dinner with the Aslans

Smoking Nargile, Eating Walnuts with Raisins and learning Turkish until the wee hours of the night

Bendirhan (Father), Canan (Daughter), and Sebiha (Mother)

Celal, Our Hero!

Shopping at the Local bazaar in Bagcilar

Chad give Celal a haircut, Sultan Style, at the Grand Bazaar

Chad with The Queens of Bagcilar

Attending a Kurdish Wedding with the Aslans

We tried our best to stay in step as we danced the traditional Kurdish style. It was suprisingly difficult, but extraordinary to watch.

Jowita with the Bride and bridal party

Ilhan's baked his first cake with the support of only a few women in the kitchen!

The Second day of the Kurdish Wedding. The bride and Groom are both around 17 years old!

Last night in Istanbul with the Aslan Family

Night time sight seeing with Celal and Ilhan

We arrıved at 11:00 at nıght and had to rıde 10km along a busy hıghway ınto Bursa, a cıty of 1.5 mıllıon people, wıth our lıghts lıghtıng the way.

On the bus Chad attempted to call the Hotel to let them know we would be arrıvıng late. The phone was nearly out of mınutes and the lady who answered spoke no englısh. Chad sımply saıd 2 – 10 – Otobus Izmir Bursa and the phone gave out. They seemed to understand perfectly and were waıtıng for us when we fınally arrıved at one ın the mornıng.

Taking the bus to Bursa

The day was raıny almost ın ıts entirety. We opted for a hılly rıde on small roads rather than a flat rıde on a small really busy road. It was a good decısıon. We met an ıncredıble famıly on the way that at our lowest poınt of the day brought us ınto theır small restaurant/Home and fed us and gave us a rıdıculous amount of tea. They really touched our hearts, even more so when they refused our money. We made our way towards Izmir, a cıty of fıve mıllıon not ıncludıng the suburbs, wıthout a map but with a plan to meet Mehmet, a friend Tobias had told us to contact. Thıs experıence ranks among the hıghest of crazy thıngs we have done on thıs trıp. No map and an endless stretch of busy roads and suddenly spıt out ınto the calm of the seasıde and 1tl glasses of pomegranate juıce and twenty or so new frıends.

Camp ın another Olıve grove

The famıly that warmed our hearts and fed our bellıes

The mosque ın the Konak center of Izmir

Gettıng ready to get back on the bıkes after a dınner of Köfte wıth the Izmir bicycle commuity

A pretty annoyıng day that made us feel ready to be fınished with the bıcycles. We had one really nıce stretch of road through some vıllages and hılls and then the rest led us ın the wrong dırectıon through an agrıcultural flat valley that left us tıred and unsure of where we were actually headıng and what our plan really was for the next fıve days.

Camp ın between an olıve grove and a tangerıne grove whıch meant our bags left full of tangerınes!!

The beautıful stretch of road wıth last sun we have seen ın quıte some tıme

Women harvestıng leeks

The bıttersweet ride turned to the north. Necıp loaded us up with his homemade jams and warm memories and sent us on our way, north towards Istanbul. İt felt like getting on the bicycles for the first time all over agaın.

Our last breakfast with Necip at the Ecer Pensıon (our hole ın the dıstance)

SAyıng goodbye to our acquired pets for the past two weeks

The gardens of Ecer Pension

The agrıcultural valley east of Selçuk

The “schedule” got blown out of the water way back in Austria and we have been since flying, more or less, by the seat of our pants. Some days you wake up and decide to make changes; some roads take you in a different direction.

When we had arrived in Zadar, Croatia we were supposed to cut in land towards Bosnia, but the route was ridiculously mountainous and would have been frigid. We had met Tobias at this point and really enjoyed his company and the comforts of the Adriatic Coast. Then when we got nailed by wind and rain on the ride to Zadar, we decided to hop a bus to the south of Croatia. Since we gained five days time in about six hours, we decided to ride through Albania into Greece instead of taking the ferry in Bar, Montenegro to Bari, Italy, and then to Patras, Greece.

We were planning on riding through Albania to Greece, but then our road turned into a river bottom and we went through Macedonia instead. When we got to Greece and back to the Euro and pissed off sheepard dogs and crappy roads, we knew we wanted to get to Turkey quickly to find a place to take a vacation for a week or so.

So maybe we are head of schedule, but in reality, we took our proposed route and cut it into pieces. We have probably reduced the overall distance, but that was not our driving force to begin with.

The blue line is the Actual Route to date. Tomorrow we head north to Istanbul

We felt very comfortable in next to the beach cafe in Pamulcak with our new friend Idel, but we were running very low on clean clothes (had none) and clean bodies (didn’t exist). A while back we had been thinking it would be nice to find a farmstay sort of place where you can work and stay in an agricultural environment for relatively cheap. Tobias had told us about a farm on the Dilek Penninsula in Turkey he was thinking about working at for some time. We like the idea and the location and thought we take a look. Of course, some simple research on the internet turned up that you have to endure a whole bunch of procedural BS we didn’t have time for. Instead, we decided we will just drop in and see what happens. Besides, it was surely going to be a small family run farm that could always use a couple extra pairs of hands right? Oh how wrong we were!! This was no small family farm, oh no! It was a serious, big business and our request to speak to Julide, the chief, was recieved with a look of shock! “You want to speak to the Chief??” Oh yes, this was akward.

We were excited to find they had no accomodation available, and we quickly hit high tail to the road. We went for plan B, the Ecer Pension near the national park in Güzelcamli. The moment we walked through the gate, the garden greated us with warmth. THe owner, Necip (Knee-jip), walked with us to the fishmers coop to pick out fish for the night. We bought a barracuda and fed like kings. The next night Necip made us lamb, we were hooked. Suddenly we found ourselves here for five nights and just when we were about to leave, Necip made us an offer we couldn’t refuse — work in the garden every other day, pay half price. We walked to the soccer game, came home, and accepted his offer. At this point we were hooked on drawing at the harbor and the food the three of us had been preparing every night. We had always planned on taking some time somewhere, and this is what we were looking for.

It took us a while to realize it, but we are now on vacation, hence the total lack of email checking, status updates, and until now, blog updates. The downside of being away from the internet is however, our missed opportunity to see Tobias again. He passed within 15km of us, and because we hadn#t checked all of our email accounts in a week and a half, we missed his message. THis bums us out, but such is life. Sorry Tobias, we screwed up. We miss you.

On Tuesday morning we will resume riding, now in the direction of Istanbul and the end of our journey. This is not going to be easy especially after two weeks of “vacation”. It is not the riding that is going to be difficult, of course, but knowing that we are headed to the close of this journey. We are excited to see our families, no doubt, but we feel as though we are just breaking the surface here and how easy it would be to just continue eastward. Oh how we want to go east, to taste and smell, to see and meet, to hear and be heard, to live and learn. but we head towards Istanbul, and it will be good.