Digital Wanderer

Yes, very soon we'll be arriving in one of the world's most amazing cities. You could pile on a mountain of clichés and platitudes –  "pearl of culture", "magical interpenetration and blending of East and West" and so on. It's all true, even though we weren't there for long, and saw little.

But we still have to actually get to Istanbul, and that's what today's post is about.

The road, as usual, is a bit boring, albeit spacious

Again, two are riding, the rest are walking :-) (This and the following photo are by Shchukin)

Alright, just kidding, it's actually just a very steep incline there, impossible to ride up

Those very same devilish thorns we came across near the tent

By this time I'd gotten so used to things and so completely fed up that I just stepped away to take a leak right by the busy highway – thankfully, those massive mutant thorns provided some cover.

Covered roughly like this

Note the gorgeous artificial waterfall in the background

Along the way, we hardly saw the light of day: well, except we bought and ate a watermelon right off a truck on the side of the road. The watermelon was so-so; apparently, not the season.

That's how they sell them, the watermelons

We didn't stop in this town, so I won't even bother looking up its name

All we could do was admire the floristics at the gas stations

Fortunately, there was plenty of gas station beauty to go around

Here I got a bit bummed out because the first two days of the trip had been pretty mediocre (especially the second one), and now it looked like this one was turning out the same. Generally, for obvious reasons I don't write about this, but I, like everyone else, have my share of problems. One of them is mood swings and nerve issues in general. So please bear with me. At the end of the day, with a bit of knack, people can perfectly well communicate with each other, even when all sorts of things get in the way. A great example of this is us and the Turks.

Luckily, we finally decided to hit up an eatery. I'd been whining and badgering everyone non-stop to do it, and I finally got my way. Eating out costs money, of course – but you gotta try something exotic! They kept telling me in response that there's no exotic stuff there – just regular food. You can decide for yourselves who was right. Taking this opportunity, I apologize to everyone I annoyed during the trip. I think Sergey got the worst of it (we fiercely argued a couple of times) and Igor Shchukin (had to listen to my whining about craving the exotic).

Here I made quite a blunder (I had two major ones during the entire trip) – translated the sign wrong. KAHVALTI doesn't mean "cheap," it means "breakfasts". That's what happens when you're too lazy to check your iPhone!

Fortunately, the mistake still turned out in our favor, at least in my opinion. The place was very beautiful, with some sort of Jewish vibe to it (at least I heard or saw something like that there). We just ate kebab, meaning roasted (over coals/on a grill) meat. But overall, it was set up in such a way that it left a wonderful impression.

Take note of the bread and the big bottle of ayran

For example, the bread. First of all, there were two kinds of it – a puffed-up flatbread and just a super thin flatbread. Both very tasty and fresh, you could just eat them on their own, without the other dishes. Moreover, they brought the bread out early, and it was warm! Hell knows, maybe it was from the microwave, but it was nice anyway. And the most amazing part – the bread was like in a video game: infinite. You eat half your food, and the waiter instantly catches on and brings you more.

Is this even edible?

You bet! I'm not giving up this yumminess to anyone!

Minimalism is a great idea that will never lose its relevance. The portion consisted of two such meaty pieces, a fact we learned belatedly. By that time, we'd already eaten the first piece and stuffed ourselves with bread to boot, so the second one barely went down. The pepper was a bit spicy, but just right for me.

Very simple. And very tasty

Me and the bread in all our glory

I just radically trimmed my beard, thinking it looks better on me this way. But looking at the photos – seems like the opposite. Starting to understand fashionistas.

While at the place, we also met a Turkmen waiter, who asked us, just like a munchkin from a Dunno book: "Where are you from, bros?". We didn't chat with him for long – either he was shy around high-brow Balts, or they aren't allowed to chit-chat on the job.

Who can guess what the guy is selling?

The answer right away

I'll have to write the rest without photos – we were in no mood for them, because soon we arrived in Istanbul.

As you recall, we had our trials by water (rain), earth (mud), and air (wind).

Where is the fire? As the most temperamental element, it had to be pieced together crumb by crumb. First, the problem of finding gas. Second, I did get a little sunburned – and the other participants seemingly more than just a little.

But what could truly be considered a trial, and a very tough one at that, was the car traffic in and before Istanbul. As everyone knows, an internal combustion engine constantly works on an ignition-explosion cycle (more accurately, it's usually a 4-stroke cycle, but let's not dig into that), which can be considered a manifestation of the fire element with a very high degree of accuracy.

So, this traffic is an absolute nightmare, at least for the majority of the participants. I'm a fatalist, a slacker, my eyesight isn't great, and I ride my bike on the roads – so I was actually fine. Maybe I just didn't realize the full danger, but that's for the best. Because Sergey, Igor (the navigator), and Igor (the boss) were stressing out immensely. The first one – because Turks follow the rules very loosely, the second one – because he wants to live, and the third one – because he doesn't drive a car. Regarding rules – Turks always honk their horns for any reason, often don't use their turn signals, and turn chaotically, too. What you can't take away from them, though, is that they usually watch where they're going – I didn't see any accidents, and barely saw any close calls.

Sergey claimed that we were breaking the rules too – saying that left turns are forbidden for cyclists – you have to dismount and walk. I doubted him then, and for good reason. Now I've spent half an hour looking into this issue. There is such a clause in the Russian rules – but it only applies to multi-lane roads. Okay, Istanbul had exactly those.

But as for the Latvian traffic regulations, they only exist in Latvian, and I'm weak at it. Judging by what I could understand, making a left turn is actually always allowed, which is nice. If anyone can clarify, I'd be very grateful.

If I'm right, I will, as usual, ride in the right lane, like a normal road user. Despite all the horrors the uninitiated imagine, drivers treat cyclists cautiously, and riding on busy highways is not as scary as it might seem. The main thing is not to run into a drunkard or a reckless driver.

We did finally make it to Istanbul, but that will be in the next part.