Sedita 2

and we come to the last part of the Turkish silk road and my way out of Turkey.
From our crossing the Van Lake, the road has transported us more and more back in time, with its impressive christian monasteries, regional castles and caravan rest stops along the silk road... with the Ararat mountain overlooking every step, we say our goodbyes......







Akdamar monastery. A last post of resistance from the christians (armenians) before Islam came to these lands....

up and down the road winds, on the ups, we feel as if looking straight into Ararat; when coming down it's only the tip we get to see as we hang on to our hat not to drop it: 80kph winds help a bit too much on the descend.....

great people I get to meet, and even play photographer for some of their outings :)

Nemrut

and like all these adventures, this one too starts totally umprepared: a late wake up, an oviparous breakfast (eggs and sucuk, thank you Kurdish hospitality), morning spent lolligaging around the area... and in this perusing ever winding road, a fork comes up, and with it, a man with a piece of advise: "this way is 40km to Nemrut, this other 20, but it's a little uphill..."
I chose the short ride.
(unknowingly)I chose the difficult ride.
I chose the beautiful ride.

2 hours later I was but half way up. Hunger and heat play an  important role on every ride, but on this one more than ever before... the entrance to Nemrut moutain lies on the edge of the Adyaman district, at least from the road I came in. I had spent 6 days already in Adyaman seeing beautiful sights but more than that, meeting great people. People that from the very beginning showered me with smiles and stories...

...so maybe I am wrong in saying I wasnt prepared for the ride, my mind was full of nice memories, my heart was full of joy and my bags exploding of parting gifts: tomatoes, onions, peppers, almonds, pistachios, bread, grape bread, nar, cookies...
This time was a great chance to put it all to good use. A small picnic, an even smaller nap and up we go. Up the other half of the mountain... Great views going up with the peak getting closer everytime, closer and closer but not quite.

What was to come was totally unexpected end: a road that went round the mountain to take us to the beginning of the next one, and from there, just there, Nemrut.
Knees and legs were weak, heavy as lead even. I'm sure it was the memories and the joy of the people met from Adyaman that carried me the rest of the way....
up up up


And from the top, the rewards dont make themselves be waited for: the view and more freat people that care enough to share their stories:
An older couple buys me a coke. He was a biker. She was a hitchiker. He gave her a lift 50 years ago, now they travel together in a caravan.
A villager coming for the 5th time to Nemrut. why? to show it to his new born grandchild.
Colombians on honeymoon and Japanese on holidays....

The view is magnificent. With the whole of Adyaman region below you is no wonder everyone comes here for the sunset/sunrise... camping there, I even got to enjoyed the night....

7hr going up, 1 hour going down. Then 2 more to reach the city limits, then a ferry across the Euphrates.
Joy....

capitulo dos

Chapter Two.
Because it does feel that way...
Behind are the rides next to the sea, behind are rides crossing valleys, and those endless up and down the mountains. It feels like i went up a mountain a few days ago and have stayed there since. The embrace of this mountain - embrace, warmth and kindness - have taken me to the highlands, a huge plateau broken at times by rivers and gorges.....
Another way of looking at this is to say I've gone from Tantuni, Adana Kebap, Kunefe and Bici Bici to Baklava, Katmer, Urfa Kebap and Cig Kofte ... different ways of saying the same thing ;)

The "choice of one road" while riding, the one road choice going West to East has broken into many choices, many of little roads, much like a vein going across the body: from a big one, a smaller one to another smaller one to then 10thousand of mini ones.
And that way, from small to smaller, I ride from village to village.
Waving at each smile, marvelled at the sight of fruit and the sound of birds.

I can ride no more than an hour before someone stops me to invite me for tea :)  and then puts a bag of pistachos in my pockets :D

and the roads goes along crops as it turns and whirls....
reds and whites and greens and yellows... all together for a symphony of food...

and I ride high into a mountain... and stay there when the lights go out....

to then come down and find a beautiful jewel of a city






and riding into a city is now almost a historical experience. The doors of Mesopotamia in front of me, crossing the Euphrates by boat and then plunging in it as they did 5000 years ago....
Just like 5000 years ago, I'm also looking for something to trade. Even if a smile or a story.
Or a pair of shoes :)






In the cities, the streets are narrow. Small hills make getting lost an exciting experience. Lime colours reflecting the sunlight, small drains that carry rain water that hasnt come in months...


while other cities are sand everywhere, sand dunes covering the first university in the world....


 Mosques semisubmergeed in water, cities almost forgotten by time, sunrises with not one around to see them, and even wildlife trying to cross the roads...

The (new) experience continues....

not Greece

Otro amor q llega

And the plans are set,
route: Santiago - Ushuaia, going thru Pto Montt, Bariloche, Rio Gallegos, Calafate, Puerto Natales and Pta Arenas
traveling by: bicycle most of the way, but I'll not be above somebody offering me a ride :-)
timeline: sometime april
Crew: Myself, Miki, Marta and Gaminedes.
The training has commenced -can't you see?- Sore butt cheeks will be the standard for the next couple of months. Looking forward to it.

I believe this trip will be more than before about the journey and not the goal, but just in case we picked a nice arriving goal: Ushuaia.
I promise some nice pics too, peace..