On the buses, Turkish style
After my hitting one bad storm I was a little apprehensive about the weather in the region I was in as I absolutely had to be in Antalya to meet Helen on Thursday. As I cycled the next day another heavy storm brewed up after lunch time forcing me to do another manic run towards a place by the name of Imranli (pop. 4000) some 40km short of where I'd being planning to camp that evening. I just reached the town petrol station as the rain started lashing down and sat and watched the weather over several glasses of çai. Talking to people at the petrol station I found out there was a hotel in town and deciding that discretion being the better part of valour it was the point to hang up my cycling shoes for a bit and set off for my holiday. Well, I say ''hang up my cycling shoes'' but in fact since my sandals walked out on me (or were taken by a stray dog) the shoes and a pair of flip flops are all I have in the way of footwear so that was just a metaphor.
I spent the evening in Imranli where I took a tour round the town, a nice little place. I was invited into a game of toss the walnut at the coin on the village square and generally had people nudging each other and saying ''turıst!'' as I bimbled past. They seemed to be under the impession I was the advanced guard of a possible wave of mass tourism not realising all that would unleash on them for good and ill. Of course, I'm not. I'm just some nut on a bike but they weren't to know that.
I arranged to park my bike at the hotel for a few days and the owner sorted out a direct bus ticket to Antalya for the following day which was a pleasant surprise as I'd anticipated a dolmus (local minibus) ride followed by a couple of coaches.
Come the next day I was back at the petrol station waiting for my bus to Antalya. Departing at 15:30 it due to arrive at 06:00 the next day. Mmm, fun! Actually yes, there is an element of fun here. Long distance bus travel in Turkey has a certain allure and feel to it that I've not really encountered elsewhere so I wasn't too put out at having to do this journey.
As we set off at first I felt a degree of sadness seeing the hard won miles slipping away but as night fell different emotions took over. I'd spent a few evenings wild camping near main roads, indeed, the self same roads I was now on. Previously I'd heard the buses roaring by like giant unknown creatures of the night but now I was on one, part of one.
The buses in Turkey stop every two to three hours so people can get off for a few minutes, grab a çai or some food, go to the toilet and chain smoke. Mostly though they just gulp down hot sweet tea and suck ciggies like they're going out of fashion. As the night draws on and we get closer towards the big population centers and more sleep deprieved the service stations take on ever more fantastical in appearance. Even later in the night, at a stop where I was woken at 2 AM somewhere towards the coast, the service staion was a vertiable mirage in neon, selling food, çai, clothes, piles of various nuts and roasted pulses and seeds, childrens toys, books, turkish delight and just about anything else a traveller could want. It was at this stop that I realised I was no longer the only tourist around as sleepy passengers tumbled from the busses pulling in, people muttering late night words of German and English as they gasped at their fags, feet clad in sandals. And then time comes to leave, to sleep for another two hours maybe. We all look round to check that our fellow passengers are on board and we're off.
We hit Antalya on time and I had one last cup of tea with the gent who'd been sitting next to me, pictured above in Antalya with cig and çai in hand. For the first time in 14 hours and countless stops I manage to get him a çai rather than the other way round! Yes! That makes it around 12:1 in his favour. . Of course, he still managed to get one last round in for me...
I spent the evening in Imranli where I took a tour round the town, a nice little place. I was invited into a game of toss the walnut at the coin on the village square and generally had people nudging each other and saying ''turıst!'' as I bimbled past. They seemed to be under the impession I was the advanced guard of a possible wave of mass tourism not realising all that would unleash on them for good and ill. Of course, I'm not. I'm just some nut on a bike but they weren't to know that.
I arranged to park my bike at the hotel for a few days and the owner sorted out a direct bus ticket to Antalya for the following day which was a pleasant surprise as I'd anticipated a dolmus (local minibus) ride followed by a couple of coaches.
Come the next day I was back at the petrol station waiting for my bus to Antalya. Departing at 15:30 it due to arrive at 06:00 the next day. Mmm, fun! Actually yes, there is an element of fun here. Long distance bus travel in Turkey has a certain allure and feel to it that I've not really encountered elsewhere so I wasn't too put out at having to do this journey.
As we set off at first I felt a degree of sadness seeing the hard won miles slipping away but as night fell different emotions took over. I'd spent a few evenings wild camping near main roads, indeed, the self same roads I was now on. Previously I'd heard the buses roaring by like giant unknown creatures of the night but now I was on one, part of one.
The buses in Turkey stop every two to three hours so people can get off for a few minutes, grab a çai or some food, go to the toilet and chain smoke. Mostly though they just gulp down hot sweet tea and suck ciggies like they're going out of fashion. As the night draws on and we get closer towards the big population centers and more sleep deprieved the service stations take on ever more fantastical in appearance. Even later in the night, at a stop where I was woken at 2 AM somewhere towards the coast, the service staion was a vertiable mirage in neon, selling food, çai, clothes, piles of various nuts and roasted pulses and seeds, childrens toys, books, turkish delight and just about anything else a traveller could want. It was at this stop that I realised I was no longer the only tourist around as sleepy passengers tumbled from the busses pulling in, people muttering late night words of German and English as they gasped at their fags, feet clad in sandals. And then time comes to leave, to sleep for another two hours maybe. We all look round to check that our fellow passengers are on board and we're off.
We hit Antalya on time and I had one last cup of tea with the gent who'd been sitting next to me, pictured above in Antalya with cig and çai in hand. For the first time in 14 hours and countless stops I manage to get him a çai rather than the other way round! Yes! That makes it around 12:1 in his favour. . Of course, he still managed to get one last round in for me...
posted by Bill at 4:30 pm
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