Iran and all its tribulations are long gone. We had a bit of drama crossing the border but we are safely enclosed now by the Hills of Anatolia in Northern Turkey. I'm far enough from Iran now to disclose that we found a restaurant who sold us 5 bottles of Whiskey. That ended a period of 4 weeks of drought. Usually I don't indulge in Whiskey but desperate times call for desperate measures. Somehow I forced the brown caramel like liqued down my throat. Whether it was a homemade brew, nobody will ever know but it certainly did its job. The hangover was real.
The last bit of cycling in Iran to the border was quite boring. A very busy highway and nights spent camping next to the road. The border crossing day did not come too soon and exactly the night before, eleven policemen were killed in the border town. The military answered by bombing the hometown of the PKK rebels.
We were taken by bus to a hotel nesting on the foot of Mount Ararat. The hotel hasn't seen tourists for quite a while. I could see that by the amount of mouse droppings underneath the doormat. But I was thankful for a sitting toilet and bed to sleep on. Everything looked very rosy through the C2H5OH that we bought at the C2H5OH Tax Free shop at the border. It even made the truck load of weapons that was carried into the hotel for protection look very docile.
The situation in NorthEastern Turkey was too dicey for us to cycle so we drove about 130km in a bus to a town called Kars where we would rest for two days. Even though we were in Turkey the climate was still quite conservative so there was only one restaurant in the whole city serving alcohol. We still had to wear modest clothes but thankfully no head scarves.
Kars is a city of about 70 000 people and very close to the Armenian border. Matters between the two neighbours have been quite shaky after Turkey murdering 1,5 Armenians in 1915-1917. They haven't kissed and made up yet so there are no open borders between the two countries. The only thing to do around Kars was to go to Ani which is a ruined Armenian city with 10001 churches. Once it was splendid and magnificent but after some earthquakes and raids by the Mongols it is now just a heap of stones with a UNESCO World Heritage Site stamp on it. I didn't go but the people who dragged themselves there said it was nice.
After Kars our muscles were well rested but not our livers. A period of 7 grueling riding days followed which I only made by the skin of my teeth. We covered 847km and lots of climbing and some bad roads. The Turks are building a dam in the valley so the road will be under water soon so no one has the incentive to maintain the road. We saw some abandoned villages and a mosque tower sticking out from the water.
The days are getting shorter and much cooler. It's rainy and gloomy and I almost froze to death again on a rainy 143km day ending at a muddy river camp. Our tents and sleeping bags and clothes are wet and damp and it's all a bit of a nightmare.
But today is a rest day in a wonderful town called Amasya. When people still went on holiday in Turkey it must have been buzzing with tourist. Lots of souvenir shops and restaurants and Turkish Baths. And above that the sun is shining and everything looks wonderful through the window of my hotel room.
Yesterday after the 7 day stretch of freezing hell Ruth and I went straight to the nearest Turkish Bath. I quickly read up on the etiquette of such an establishment so that we knew how to behave. We opted for the full experience. We stripped down to our panties and were shown to a heated round marble plate underneath a dome. The worlds biggest chandelier was dangling from it. Here we laid supine to relax and soften our skins before the peeling. The half naked lady who was going to scrub and massage us came to check the texture of our skins now and then. Just like one would check the Sunday chicken roast in the oven. I couldn't really relax because I could see the crystal chandelier falling down on me and flattening me like the Sunday pancake.
When she was satisfied with my skin she pulled me into a wash room where she sandpapered me down from head to toe. I was topless but I read on the internet that I should keep my panties on. When I was red with every nerve on end she emptied several buckets of water over me to wash away the dead skin. My tan lines disappeared down the drain.
Then she took a soft cloth with an abundance of soap and massaged my whole body for twenty minutes. I opened my eyes once and closed them quickly again because it looked just like a scene from an erotic movie. All the foam and soap and two half naked bodies. Then she washed my hair three times. Afterwards tea was served.
I have cycled 10730 km by now and the end is definitely in sight. We are starting to see signs and distances to Istanbul.
The feeling of Fin de Siecle is in the group and it will be an interesting final week.
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