Cycling into Turkey: A journey of Heat, Hospitality, and Hills

It was the first time setting an alarm because there was an early ferry to Fethiye, Turkey from Rhodes. I still managed to wake up to the alarm and then doze off for another 30 minutes, but I made it to the ferry in plenty of time. It was about a 2-hour ferry from Rhodes to Fethiye, and then I had a nice ride through the town, picked up some supplies, and rode a fairly flat 30k into the Turkish countryside.

The heat is crazy, so at 3 p.m. I stopped riding and took a long break. I’m hoping to mix up my schedule and get going really early to try and beat the heat, get the miles done, and then relax in the afternoon—we’ll see how that goes.

After my break, I basically started the climb straight away. My aim was to take a bit of a chunk out of the elevation in preparation for tomorrow. I achieved this, but it was a struggle, and I’m very grateful for the roadside coolers—free water, and ice-cold too, which is lovely.

I got to Arsaköy around 7, cycled through the town, and as I came out the other side it went back to being rural countryside. I found myself a nice little spot with an amazing view. It’s very mountainous, and at about 8:00 many of the mosques do the call to prayer, which echoes around the mountainscape. It was pretty cool to hear.

I managed to get up early, get on the bike, and set off just after 6:00. It really paid off—the temperature was cool, there were no cars, and I was able to put maximum effort into climbing the hill.

I made a quick stop in a village to get some munch and then carried on. As I reached the top of the climb, I was invited for some cold water by a family camping at the top of the mountain in a sort of hut/camping area, with mountain water on tap. Cold water turned out to be a full breakfast, and I could eat as much as I wanted—bread, honey, chips, olives, everything. We just relaxed and chatted for most of the day.

We also had some Turkish coffee with Turkish delight, which was quite special—especially given the view we had. I stayed here and caught up with some friends from home as well as Demi. Just as I was leaving, two guys driving a truck full of logs called me over and asked me to join them for lunch, which I did. More food. I have a feeling Turkey’s going to be very friendly.

I managed to get away from the camping area. I think I could have stayed there overnight, but I peeled myself away and got up to the top of the mountain quickly. From there it was a massive descent—so big that my brakes got so hot I had to cool them down with water.

Eventually the steepness gave way to a slight descent through a gorge, which caused a headwind. I’m guessing the headwind and the slope cancelled each other out because it felt like pedalling on flat ground.

I made it all the way down to the beach, set up a little castaway-type setup, had a dunk in the sea, and then cooked dinner.

I managed to get away early again, but the downhill descent had completely worn my rear brake pads. Not long after setting off, I had to take all the bags off and replace the pads. I set off again thinking I wouldn’t have to stop, and it was a really nice ride along the coast. But about 10k in, my rear tyre went down. Inner tube replaced, but my rear tyre was really not looking great, with a crack in the tread and a bulge near the rim.

I rewarded myself with an early-morning swim for my bike maintenance efforts. After this, I completed the coastal section of the ride and headed inland. A quick stop for some breakfast, and then I headed towards the hill I had to climb for the day. I was a little bit later than planned, what with the two maintenance stops, so it was really hot.

The climb was a struggle, mainly on the state road, which was fairly busy. I was taking lots of breaks and drinking lots of fluid—the saving grace being that they have cool water by the roadside. I eventually reached the peak at the peak of the day’s temperature as well, and was duly rewarded with a massive descent—steep enough that I didn’t have to pedal for what felt like forever.

At the end of the descent I arrived in Kemer on the coast and got straight into the sea—I don’t think I’ve ever been so sweaty. Despite the maintenance stops and the slow climb, I was making good progress and decided to head for Antalya. It wasn’t the nicest ride along the state road—quite busy—and it was also my first use of my lights going through some of the tunnels. I managed to avoid one tunnel with a nice pass around the outside.

Not long after arriving in Antalya, I was faced with my first pack of dogs. I had prepped myself for this moment, thinking I’d get off the bike, stay strong, and maybe wave a stick. I did none of that—just pedalled with about 20 dogs in chase. Thankfully, I’m quicker than the dogs.

I reached the beachfront, which has a cycleway all the way along, and then did a bit of up-and-down through the old town to get to the hostel. On arrival, I was given a bottle of cold water and told there were beds available. I had a nice shower and then went out for the evening with a guy from America to get some food and have a beer.

I headed to a bike shop early, but the first two I visited couldn’t do the tubeless conversion I was after. I eventually found one that could help. They weren’t able to provide a 27.5-inch tubeless conversion, but we decided to put on a replacement tyre instead, and I had a good chat with the guys.

The owner, Ali, invited me to meet up later at a bar in town. I spent the rest of the day just chilling in the old town, which is nice but definitely super touristy. Later, I met up with Ali at a bar where there was supposed to be live music. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any, so we hopped on his moped and headed to a different bar. After this we went into town, dropped the moped at Ali’s house, and got a taxi.

My first night out on the tour—it was super fun and ended in a chip shop. Very familiar.

I woke up with the first hangover of the trip, and it was slow going in the hostel that morning. I was only riding over to Ali’s place and then getting picked up to chill at the beach all day.

Halil, Ali’s friend who works at the bike shop, picked me up and we rode down to the cove where they have a platform that acts as a beach. Most of Antalya’s coast is cliff, so they overcome this with platforms. I spent the day in the sun with new friends and even managed to stand up and paddle about on Halil’s SUP.

We then went for some food, and later Ali and I went back to town for some live music and more food.

I spent the whole day chilling at the bike shop and managed to get my bike clean as a whistle for the first time since starting the trip. It won’t last long, but it’s nice to have a clean bill of health heading into the Trans-Türkiye leg of the trip. We then went down to the park and sank a couple of beers.

It was hard to get up for the early start I wanted, so I left Ali’s place around 9 a.m. I cycled along the coastal cycle path, with my first stop being the Düden Waterfalls, which were pretty impressive.

That would be my last view of the ocean for a while as I headed inland and cycled past Aspendos, which is an ancient forum and colosseum.

I headed further along the road and found a picnic area where lots of families were cooking food on brick-built ovens placed next to each bench. It was only a matter of time before I was called over for some food by one group, who provided a full meal on top of my already eaten lunch. Then, as I was leaving, I was given more food by another family, so I sat and chatted some more. The daughter, Irem, spoke excellent English, so no Google Translate was needed.

After I departed, I had a hefty gravel climb to the state highway, which meant even more climbing. On the highway, there are lots of roadside stalls selling watermelons and honey. I got to the top of one climbing section and asked if I could camp round the back. They said yes, and after setting up my tent I was invited for tea and an evening meal with them, which was lovely.

I set out after not having a great night’s sleep by the roadside, but still got going at about 6:30. A little bit of up-and-down on the state road and then the hairpin bends appeared—I knew I was at the bottom of the mountain.

Fuelled up and started to climb, but very quickly stopped at another roadside stall where I was called over for morning tea. I had two teas, both with two sugars, and then continued the climb. The tea-by-the-roadside theme continued, and I stopped at another stall when I reached the false summit.

Not too long after this I arrived at a choice between a mountain pass and the newly built tunnel that goes through the mountain for 5 km. I felt I had achieved enough for the day already and decided to opt for the tunnel, but because it’s 5k long I didn’t want to ride through it.

So I waited by the side of the road to try and hitch a ride. Some cars passed that wouldn’t have fit the bike, and then a van approached. I stuck my thumb out and he instantly pulled over. I launched the bike in the back and we sailed through the tunnel—no need to take unnecessary risks in a dark tunnel for half an hour.

After the tunnel it was flatland, so I was able to chill out, have some more lunch, and then head into my first rain since Switzerland. It was really nice to have the rain—I think it was even hailing—but I didn’t put on any wet weather gear because it was warm, so I just sailed through it.

I eventually got to a town called Pinarbaşı and, as I pulled in, there was what I can only call a working men’s club with lots of men sat outside drinking tea. I arrived just as the rain was getting heavy and there were definitely some bemused faces. I asked where I could get some food—they directed me to the mini-market and then invited me back for tea.

I stayed here to dry off and change my socks until I decided it was time to leave. I didn’t get very far—basically to the next village—where the same thing was happening. Lots of men sat outside a shop drinking tea, and they called me over too. I chatted with a few of them and had more tea.

After this, I thought it best to get cracking. I managed to put down a few more kilometres with the thunderstorm chasing me. I saw a couple of shelters but wanted to get a little bit further, and eventually a brick building appeared that looked perfect to take cover in.

After a bit of an odd night’s sleep in the shelter—at about 2:00 in the morning some people turned up, as well as the police, who in Turkey just drive around with their lights on—there were blue and red lights flashing through the shelter. I don’t think they realised I was there, so I just kept quiet and eventually fell back to sleep.

I was woken in the morning by goats drinking from the trough that ran from the shelter. As I packed up I said hello to the farmer and then cycled up a hill behind all the goats, chatting with the farmer. They went right, I went left, and I carried on until I found Beyşehir.

I found a bike shop and explained the problem. He called his mate, who turned up with a new 11–50-tooth mountain bike cassette. It was 11-speed, and even though I knew the derailleur wouldn’t support it, I agreed to give it a try. As expected, it didn’t work, so we swapped it for a Shimano Altus mountain bike derailleur with a little extension away from the rear dropout. Astonishingly, even though the derailleur was for a 9-speed bike, it seemed to work on mine.

I took the bike for a test ride and, despite some dodgy shifting, it worked and I had a greater range of gears. I set off out of Beyşehir, not before taking a look at the mosque, which dates back to 1299 and is part brick, part wood.

I only got 20k before disaster struck—the new chain hadn’t engaged correctly, and short-sightedly I didn’t have a chain tool. I pushed the bike back to a tiny town I’d just passed and got chatting with the men sat around the drinking fountain. Eventually they made some phone calls and about half an hour later a guy rocked up with a pickup truck.

We put the bike in the back and headed back to Beyşehir. The guys had contacted the bike shop beforehand, so they knew I was coming back. But it was late, so we dropped off the bike and I headed for a hotel for the night.

Had a chill morning in the hotel and then headed over to the bike shop to pick up the bike. It was fixed, so I decided to ride to the bus station and catch a ride towards Aksaray. I think it was a good choice—I could see a thunderstorm from the bus, and I knew the ride between Beyşehir and Aksaray wasn’t the most scenic, so I didn’t feel too bad missing those miles.

I got off the bus in Aksaray and was hit by what was essentially a sandstorm. As I pedalled away from the station, the chain broke again. I was battling against time, so I got a taxi into the centre, found the nearest bike shop, and carried out a temporary repair myself. Then I had to find another hotel—not really what I wanted to be doing, but these things happen.

I chatted for a long time with the hotel owner before calling it a night.

In the morning, the first thing to do was visit another bike shop. At first, I tried fixing the problem myself with a chain tool, but I soon realised the chain just wasn’t up to the job. Eventually, Mustafa, the bike shop owner, came to help out, and luckily he had an 11-speed Shimano chain, which was far more suitable.

The problem was sorted fairly quickly, but I couldn’t peel myself away from chilling with Mustafa and his son—endless amounts of çay and good conversation kept me there. Eventually, I left Aksaray and went straight into a climb, a good test to see whether the modification would actually work. Luckily, everything held together, despite some dodgy shifting.

I cycled through a town where I stopped for a break, and soon lots of kids started talking to me and even riding the bike. I didn’t want anything else to go wrong, so instead, we settled for them wearing my helmet—which felt a bit odd, but they had a great time.

After that, I cycled a little more before hitting a dirt track, where some farmers called me over for more çay. I decided to call it a day and camp with them—they sleep in a truck. I cooked myself dinner out the back, but just as I’d finished, one of the farmers turned up with a massive bag of döner kebabs for everyone, including me, so I had two dinners that night.

We didn’t eat in the truck, though. I jumped into an old, beat-up Renault and was whisked at lightning speed in the dark through country lanes until we found a field where his mates were—one finishing up combine harvesting, the other chilling in his tractor. We sat on the ground and had kebabs, Fanta, and watermelon before heading back to the truck. We chatted a little more, and then I called it a night.

I’d intended to get up and go early, but I was invited for breakfast—which I couldn’t say no to. After that, I had a lovely ride through Turkey’s expansive landscapes and eventually reached a place called Nevşehir, where I stopped for a second breakfast. This city marked the final approach to Cappadocia.

It was a pleasant ride down through the strange and beautiful rock formations before arriving in one of the towns, Göreme, where I settled in with a beer. I decided to try my luck and posted a message in the “Cycling East” WhatsApp group to see if anyone else was in Cappadocia. As it turned out, I was in luck—a guy called Mike replied, saying he was nearby.

Not long after, he cycled down and joined me for a beer. We soon realised we had plenty in common: both 30, both engineers, and both cycling from the UK to “down under” after stepping away from our jobs back home.

After a few beers, we headed into Cappadocia National Park to look for a camp spot. Along the way, we stumbled across a church built into the rocks, which was pretty cool. We then circled around and found what we thought was a perfect spot—only to be told we couldn’t camp there until after 9 p.m. because there was going to be a marriage proposal.

It didn’t really matter; we just cycled a bit further and found a similar spot one canyon over. We cooked a great dinner, got to know each other better, and eventually went to bed with the alarm set for 5 a.m. to watch the balloons at sunrise.