Day 81 (Turkey): Darica - Koluk (freilich, freilich = sure, sure)

today’s distance: 98km
total distance: 5293km
riding time: 5-6h

I was woken up early (say 6am) and chatted it up with Ibrahim before doing breakfast. He told me about how Alevis are apparently persecuted (must have been much worse in the past according his account), including a number of things that I would rather not divulge here on the blog. This was no longer chatting though. Interestingly, he was doing the same with the Sunni majority as people in the other town had done the night before. He said to be careful and so forth … which struck me as odd as he was a person who chose his wording carefully. The time with him and Hane was very rewarding and a big, massive thank you.

After breakfast I headed out into much warmer weather, it was getting hot. It was also getting a bit steep. After a good number of climbs (and downhills) I reached the top and could let myself roll down to Akcardag. On what I thought was the last climb, I was overtaken and overtook these guys several times (they are transporting hay, yet still seem on the verge of collapsing all the time).

From there I headed out to Dogansehir, thinking that I would spend the night in the vicinity, a plan that worked out only partially. I soon arrived at Oeren and asked for a route that would not lead me around the big massive mountain that lay in front of me (it was big, the climb around the Western side clearly hard). Turns out that once in the store, a Turk living in Zurich approached me and helped out. His cousin eventually led the way through corrugated back roads that I could never have found myself and over a few dips and climbs to a paved road that was eventually going downhill and certainly a place that few bikers had been on.

During that downhill I spotted something odd. This will sound a bit strange I realize. But as I was heading downhill, I looked at a house and saw two people in front of it. The man was wearing shorts, which was a bit odd. But even more surprisingly, there was a woman wearing shorts as well. I did a double take … I wasn’t hallucinating. Sure enough, I was called over - the guy shouted in German and as it turned out they are from Karlsruhe, less than 60 miles from where I grew up. I never caught their names unfortunately, but we had a great chat over the course of 30 minutes or so. I eventually moved on and felt that my gas tank was running on empty, but there were few places to resupply. Once I did (in Suerue) I was ready to hit the next suitable place for the night. Alas, I couldn’t find one. Water, fields, too much in plain view … A bit frustrating. As it was seriously getting dark, I stopped to have a drink and unbeknownst to me, I had stopped close to a mosque. The men were just leaving and … as so many times before, there was one person who spoke German. Souli made short shrift of things … no camping he said, you’re coming to my house. Wow … I was floored and similarly tired. I didn’t last long, but the one thing that did stand out was his continuous use of “freilich, freilich” (sure, sure) as he had spent part of his life in Nuremberg. Just as Ibrahim and his wife, Souli also spoke in what didn’t sound Turkish to me … he uses a mishmash of Turkish and Kurdish, but made sure to let me know that he disliked the Kurds and that I should be careful when I am heading further towards the East. Where did I hear that before?