The crossing to Türkiye was windy and choppy. It was only a small ferry and our poor bike, strapped onto the rear deck, got thoroughly drenched with sea water. Fortunately, the trip was only 90 minutes. We rode the bike off, parked by a locked gate and were directed into building to get our documentation checked. Everything went fine until the very last moment. I thought I had checked our vehicle insurance for Türkiye but in fact I had only checked the breakdown insurance. We had no insurance and the authorities were not going to let us take the bike until we could prove otherwise. Now usually, on this sort of border, getting vehicle insurance is not a problem. Often there are several insurance offices lined up by the border just desperate to sell you something. On this occasion we had arrived by a rather obscure route, just a handful of vehicles each week and to exacerbate the issue it was labour day, May 1st, a public holiday.
We walked over to the ferry office and attempted to sort something out. They were very helpful and soon had someone on the phone for us. He explained that it was not possible to buy insurance in Türkiye for a foreign vehicle and that I needed to contact my insurers in the UK. There then followed a surreal conversation with Carol Nash, who insure my bike. First of all, they understood that I was trying to insure an additional bike called a Türkiye . This got escalated to a supervisor who realised that Türkiye was a country but explained that I was covered for the whole of Europe. Up to the next supervisor who recoiled in horror over the notion that I wanted to ride my bike outside of Europe. Why would you do that? Finally, after a long time on hold, I was told that it was quite impossible. Half an hour later, while I was busy trawling the internet for something useful, the ferry office man came back with another phone call. This one worked. Several email exchanges and a trip to an ATM later and we had the necessary document. Eventually collected the bike late afternoon but whatever, we were in, all sorted and legal. We stayed at a local hotel and then picked up the planned trip a day later.
First stop was Kuşadası, a delightful small town packed with tourist shops. We aimed to get there on the main road but got turned around by the police. Some incident had blocked the road. We took to smaller roads and picked a route out through some hills to the north. The proved to be a pleasant ride and probably much more fun. We took an extra day at Kuşadası so that we could visit the Ephesus Archaeological Site. This is the massive, excavated remains of a of a temple, theatre and library in an ancient city taken over by Romans in 129 BC. Although clearly battered by 2,000 years of neglect this place is still impressive. In particular, you can get a sense of what life might have been like for the Romans. The rich Romans obviously. The slaves and servants probably had a horrible time of it. The weather was boiling hot and the crowds fearsome but we eventually managed to get round the whole site and even read some of the noticeboards. If you are into Roman ruins then this place should be on your list. The entrance area to the site is a covered roadway lined by tourist shops. Any kind of replica watch, jewellery, handbag or other accessory at a bargain price.
Back at our hotel the very nice owner invited us to a family barbeque in the evening. I am not at all keen on either meat and children but fortunately Diane is much more polite that me and she stepped in to explain that we were vegetarian. The owner replied that surely her husband was not one. He did not look like a vegetarian. What does that mean? I think he is saying I am fat. And they would be serving salad. Oh joy, the stench of burning meat, the screams of crying children and a bit of lettuce leaf. I attempted to maintain a fixed smile on my face. One that had nothing to do with what was going on inside my head. I nodded in what I hoped was a polite way and we left.
Next day we continued along the coast road as best we could. In places there was not a road near the sea. Even so we managed enough road with bright blue ocean immediately to our right to keep Diane happy. The riding was great. Perfect weather. Sunny but not too hot. Quiet roads that twisted and looped through hidden coves and over small hills. The Rhapsody hotel at Kalkan was all but deserted. It is still early in the season. We’d had a long day. We were quite happy to eat by the pool as the sun set. Then Gillian and Reynaldo turned up. A lovely couple that had a holiday home nearby. We had a pleasant chat with them and picked up some nuggets of interesting local knowledge.
More coastal roads brought us to Antalya, popular amongst British tourists. We kept moving and ended up at a serious holiday hotel an hour or so later. This was an all-inclusive establishment in a gated compound with its own restricted beach area. I’d chosen it as being good value for money. Which it was. Drinks and half board for around £80. On arrival we were tagged with wristbands. The room was lovely. Overlooking swimming pools and the beach. Food was served buffet style with an excellent range of food to choose from. Wine was either red or white and the cocktails were rubbish. Overall, the stay was good fun although we did feel a bit out of place.
In the morning, we had a sobering start when, not five minutes after leaving the hotel, we came across two bodies. They were clearly very dead and had been laid out by the roadside. Not covered. Looked to be a couple in their early twenties. No helmets, dressed for the beach. The police were in attendance and thirty metres down the road was a flipped over ATV. A few other vehicles were parked up and a small crowd was standing well back. We did not see what happened but I am sure the gist of it would include inexperience, exuberant driving and excessive speed. Very sad. We have seen a lot of people on rented ATVs since then and I can’t help thinking how dangerous they are without a bit of training.
Our costal odyssey continued in much the same way as the previous days. The roads became quieter and we eventually arrived at the Kupala beach hotel. Tiny little village at the end of a beach where we were absolutely the only people staying at the hotel. There is something strange and a little disconcerting about staying in an otherwise empty hotel. It was being run by three blokes – none of whom seemed the hotel manager type. We sorted out the check-in and even organised food but they discussed everything amongst themselves, apparently in great detail. Like they were not sure what they were supposed to be doing. I am sure there is a story here. Definitely something a little bit weird. Nothing bad happened. We ate well. No idea where the food came from but it arrived in bags brought by runners. We turned in early ready to leave the coast and start inland.
