The Epic East
Well, Good morning Turkey. Here’s the view from the top of the Koc, as I retrieve my now dried smalls from last nights washing duty.
I’ve got up to do some scribbling in the morning quite early leaving Brian to snooze.
Chips and Onion Rings for breakfast?
We don’t recall the guy mentioning there was breakfast, but on the other hand as he didn’t seem to speak much English. I wander in to the restaurant and whilst being examined by the man in the chefs hat I point at the food at which point man with hat behind the counter points at me and points at the food, which I see as the international signal for ‘fill your boots’.
It’s a very constructive part of the morning. I also manage to get a cup of tea with Milk which I consider a real achievement. I recall Arthur Dent managing to shut down a spaceship in
The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy whilst trying to do so. It seemed all very familiar as most of the hotel staff gathered as I tried to explain I needed squirt of cow to make my drink complete.
Ah, a triumphant breakfast indeed. Tea was a high point now that we seem to have left the coffee zone (there was Nescafe, but we're in agreement that this doesn’t count).
Back to the Nescafe Zone to pack. Its not coffee, I mither to myself.
‘Crappy Pulpy’, the now staple of our riding refreshment hitched for handy access later.
Well.
What an absolute fizzer of a day we had. I’d said later this evening that it was probably the best day I’ve ever had on a motorcycle. Having done a few decent rides now I think that speaks volumes. Yesterday, cannonballing across the Bosphorous was a proper ball ache but the happy reward today just made it all worth it. Very special indeed.
We set out from the hotel in Karasu and it was a fairly standard start. A fill up with petrol and then off to standard dual carriageway stuff; nothing special, but plenty to look at anyhow. Then the dual carriageway starts becoming interesting. Winding up and down, round and up, round and down. Super stuff.
We pass through a place called Zonguldak stopping for refreshment. We are happier than we look, trust us.
Suitably refreshed we head off again along the coast. We transition into fantastic mountain pass stuff but all by the sea. This is followed by more excellent fast road stuff, and then back to the coast for seemingly endless mile upon mile of narrow twisty mountain roads again by the sea. The roads are varied and quite tough and the motoring standard is terrible. But it is all simply epic.
During the morning and heading through a small town, we dart off to the main square to try and sort out our toll road card thing out. We find the ‘PTT’ place..
.. although the charming young girl behind the counter doesn’t seem to get what we’re after
After an entertaining exchange, involving Google Translate, me drawing a road and a picture of money, and our generally giggling a bit we get the news that we need to go to a larger main post office to get what we want.
More fun roads are quickly accessed.
Later in a bigger town, we find a larger main post office and with our documentation in hand we get our toll cards
They’re now called ‘HGS’ by the way.
Mine is stowed into the top of the tank bag.
Brian stuffs his into the arm of his BMW twat jacket. We’re sorted.
Out of the town and swiftly into even more fun roads. As we chatted at a later stop, Brian put it well ‘You’ve got to earn it here’. This was very true. With very unreliable surfaces, gravel, potholes, sand, bits of old road, bits of melted road.. local drivers who are complete loons.. narrow twisty mountain roads, mountain passes by the sea(!) .. all incredible.
And I guess I say it again. What other bike could do this the way it has. Incredible.
After an ice cream which saw our retreat from the warm afternoon we decided to do another hour or so and then try and find somewhere to stay.
Our destination is Inebolu, with our never having again left the coast in the final run in. Brian decides to ride down a section of the empty dual carriageway on the wrong side which gives us a chuckle when we pull up. The signage wasn’t exactly clear.
We enquire at a hotel on the seafront who can put us up and we do a deal. Its only a few steps and one flight of stairs up to the room and that’s welcome. My pedometer isn’t getting a lot of work today.
There’s no beer at the hotel. The girl serving me giggles when I ask. I get tea with no milk but that’s OK. Later we stroll around the town. We stick out like sore thumbs as outsiders and you can feel the eyes peering at you. Maybe it is my imagination, but when I rode in Turkey back in 2012 things felt a little friendlier.
Wandering about..
We find a kebab shop.
Opposite is a tiny shop that sells beer.
The joy of kebabs.
The kebab shop and and tiny shop folks are friendly. We buy a few cans each from the tiny shop and tuck away our treasure. Beer is now very scarce and probably not a good idea to flash it about. We don’t want to go back to our room to drink, and it wouldn’t be a good idea we think to be drinking sat out somewhere in the open. Kebabs and beers swinging from plastic bags, we walk back down to the seafront and peer over the sea wall to have a look at the rocky shoreline below. As I lean over there are two chaps sitting below, having a drink. Seems like the place to be. ‘My friend’ he calls out ‘Where are you from?’ I tell him, and he asks if we’re looking for somewhere to drink our beer. He can’t actually see we’ve got beer but he appears to have our number. Yes, we own up, at which point he tells us to clamber over and grab a spot.
“Stay in the pink, with kebabs and drink”. Can you see the other boozehounds in the background?
Best of gear.
And so, another tasty kebab is had, looking out to sea drinking beer from our tins and chatting like two sixth formers smoking behind the bike sheds. We’re there for a while watching the sun going down over the Black Sea.
Its very pretty.
Sweet, sweet beer.
Brian attempts a closer examination of the Black Sea.
A day of 242 miles of perfection
Life is pretty damn good today