Motourama Part 31: Along The Black Sea
Hello family, friends and followers! Our route through Turkey went along the coastline of the Black Sea. This Travel Story takes us a part of the way, up until a horrible experience.
Istanbul marked the last time the bikes and us will set foot on European soil for quite a while. First order of business on the Asian continent, was to get a hold of two spare oil filters for our upcoming oil change. We went by the last certified Honda Motorcycles workshop on our route until we hit Ulaan Bataar in Mongolia. It was a bit of a weird feeling, knowing that any parts for our bikes would have to be sourced from local stashes of parts at workshops of varying sizes from hereon out, until we reach the capital of Mongolia.
On our way out of Istanbul.
Crossing the bridge that takes us from the European to the Asian continent, across the Bosphorus.
Heavy, lead coloured clouds accompanied us on the road out of Istanbul. We had the road map to guide us, and the terrible GPS was tucked away, so it couldn’t interfere.The rain held off for a while, giving us a false sense of confidence, that we wouldn’t really need to put on our water-proof layer. Mother nature decided to prove us wrong, and before we could manage to stop and jump into the dry safe haven of our rain clothes, the sudden wall of rain – that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere – had penetrated our not-so-waterproof layers, so we were soaking wet. We made the almost futile effort of actually putting them on, and went on.
The rain found us.
We made a quick stop to have breakfast in the city of Şile, which proved to have a nice view.
This stringy cheese is not bad at all.
A short break in the rain. Wet from the inside, wet from the outside. Fun!
Not a bad view.
The gloomy light made for a rough look of the coastal cliffs.
As we continued on, the rain came back. Nothing for it but to strap in and go on.
The rain continuing.
Construction for a new, larger, boringly effective road to replace the nice, small, curvy road.
The rain made for a miserable first half of the day, which took a turn for the worse, when Esben noticed the back wheel of Denise’s Honda had a lot less air than it should. Phoenix had the questionable honour of having the first flat of the trip. Fortunately, we were at a fuel station with a tire service centre right next to it. Unfortunately, there was no-one there to operate the equipment, and the air pump had no power. Great. Determined to not be beaten by a simple hole in some rubber, we got out the tools and pulled the rear wheel off. We spent a good hour trying to get the tire off the rim, but with no success. We knew it was doable, as we had changed tires and tubes before setting off, but somehow, the tire was fighting us. Frustrated, wet and hot, we took a break to cool off a bit. It wasn’t until then, that the fuel station attendants, that had been standing in the background, looking and laughing, came over and managed to communicate to us, that there was another tire service centre up the road. Hoping for the best, Esben strapped on the rear wheel of Phoenix, and set off.
Denise’s rear tire sagging a bit.
Getting our hands dirty.
Sure enough, just 50 metres further down the road, behind a bend, he found two young guys standing in a workshop. After Esben had performed a pantomime of a wheel loosing air, that would have impressed absolutely no-one, the guys understood the problem, and went to work. They had the tire off the rim in 5 minutes. It turned out, unbeknown to us, that there was a difference from which side you attempted to get the tire off. To be fair to us, though, they did have the help of a machine. When they got the inner tube out, a weird, perfectly circular hole was clearly visible in the rubber. Investigating the tire, they found a loose metal washer inside. Our last tire change on Phoenix had not been as great as we had thought, apparently. They got the hole fixed and the wheel re-assembled in less than 15 minutes, and all it cost us was the equivalent of 3 €. Esben tipped them another 3 €, because he was so happy, and returned to Denise.
The cool kids, fixing the flat tire.
Their younger brother, not too sure if he likes the situation.
By the time the wheel was back on, and we were ready to continue, the rain had thankfully stopped. Having lost a good 2.5 hours, we knew we wouldn’t make it to our goal of the day: Zonguldak. We took it nice and slow until nightfall, where we settled in at a pension in the small coastal city of Karasu, to spend the night and dry out our riding gear. We were invited by the owner to enjoy a traditional Turkish tea before bed, and we happily accepted. That night we slept before our heads even hit the pillow.
The next day, we awoke to a new surprise. As we had loaded the bikes and were about to jump onto them, Denise noticed a peculiar thing about Esben’s left boot. It was gaping. The sole of the boot had been ripped half off in the crash a couple days earlier. This proved to become one of the best things that had happened in the crash. That tale, will be the content of a future Travel Story, though.
That is not just a little bit. Amazing Esben didn’t notice it.
Back to the day at hand, we set off wearing our rain gear, not wanting to repeat the mistake of the day before. The sky was a bit lighter, but far from blue. We drove along the road running parallel to the sea out of the city, and when it turned into a dirt road, we kept on following it. In the mood for a bit of exploring, we let it lead us past an angry dog, through some hazelnut orchards, to a dead end, where a river spilled out in the sea, cutting off any further progress. Satisfied with the amount of exploration of the day, we returned to the bigger street, that ran along the coast a bit further inland.
Off the paved roads for some adventure.
We awoke the guardian of a resort under construction. He was adamant, that we should leave.
Through narrow gaps in the hazelnut orchard.
To the end of the road, with the sea in front and a river to our east – the direction we needed to go.
A particular piece of scenery, we found fascinating, was of two massive ships, just beached next to the road.
The rest of the day was full of scenery and a horrible experience, which we will elaborate upon in the next Travel Story, dedicated to that particular event.
Until next time, we hope help is not far from you.