Distance: 90km
Elevation: 1.466m
I woke up exhausted. How many hours I actually slept, I could not say. Looking out of the tent, I saw that the dirt from the night before was still everywhere. The lake level had risen considerably and was now very close to the tent. The tent itself was covered in small snails. Breakfast did not feel like an option. The energy of the place was not right. I packed up, doing my best to avoid the mud, and was on the bike by around seven thirty.
The day began with a ten kilometer climb in light rain. The temperature had dropped considerably from the day before, somewhere around fifteen degrees. At the top there was a small street market. I stopped for chai. They would not take any money for it. Ten kilometers further on I found a gas station that served as a traveler’s refuge of sorts, and had kofte, french fries, peppers, chai, and a coffee. It was a good stop. With that, I had enough energy to keep going.
The terrain was rolling hills for much of the day. After the heavy rain from last night, many fields and roadsides were flooded, and every gravel section had turned to mud. Rosinante got stuck. The mud, a heavy mix of clay and stones, packed itself between the tires and the mudguards until she could not move another meter. I had to stop several times and clean her out.
Luckily there was a gas station nearby. I asked the young man working there if I could use a water hose. He said yes. It took the best part of fifteen minutes to get the mud out properly. When I tried to pay for the water, he would not accept it. It is remarkable how well foreigners are treated here.
With Rosinante cleared, though still feeling slightly heavier than she should, I made it to Ikergöl in the early afternoon and had lunch at a small street restaurant. Nobody spoke English. With hands and gestures and a general willingness to communicate, it worked. They worked out I was German and traveling by bike. Plenty of friendly honks from passing cars throughout the afternoon.
After Ikergöl, the climbing started in earnest. By the end I was pushing Rosinante uphill for roughly ten kilometers, gaining close to a thousand meters in altitude. Cycling it was not an option, not in my current state, not with the weight I was carrying, and not with a gear setup that was not built for mountains. So it became a hiking day.
I arrived at the top completely spent. No energy left, but still had to find somewhere to sleep. I was now on the high plateau of Anatolia. The infrastructure is there, but the villages are few and far between. I reached Buzüyük and found a hotel, the Grand Hotel. It felt strange to be in a Grand Hotel at this point, but I decided to make the most of it. I washed everything, charged all the power banks, and had a proper meal. I was apparently the only guest. Dinner was in what was essentially a ballroom, just me and the empty tables. Somewhat surreal.
By nine o’clock I was in bed and fell asleep instantly.
Tomorrow I hope will be different. The good news is that I am now in Anatolia, and the climbing should ease off from here, at least for a while. We shall see.