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May 2012
During March we spent a few days in Fethiye, a town on the South Western Mediterranean coast of Turkey. The only people we met to chat to were a British couple in their motorhome, and some disgruntled expats. Their main complaint seemed to be focussed on the rise in the cost of alcohol. The day Mike went and had the new LPG gas tank fitted I decided I didn't want to spend it mooching around Fethiye, visiting the hammam or watching the guys work on the van in the workshop. Instead I took myself off on a bike ride to Olu Deniz. The posters and advertising for the beach and freshwater lagoon by the Turkish Tourist Board made it look good and now the opportunity had presented itself for me to go and visit.
I have no idea of the gradient but the GPS on my phone measured the highest point I reached at 1200 ft up from sea level, so it was no wonder I couldn't manage it all on my bicycle. You can get some idea of how mountainous it is from the terrain map pictured above. Anyone who has been to Olu Deniz or may be visiting in the future please think about my journey that day. The uphill parts there and back took me two hours each time to walk and it was so steep I struggled to push the bike. I felt exhausted afterwards but I had made the right decision, it was a really beautiful place and I really enjoyed the challenge. I was on my own for the hour I was there and took some photos which didn't do it justice. As I cycled away a keen salesman ran over and asked why I wasn't going to go paragliding with him. Knowing that I had enough on my plate cycling back up a hill you could paraglide off I declined the offer.
From Fethiye we continued west along the coast towards Marmaris, keen to catch up with Jobey and Lea, a couple of friends that we hadn't seen for a number of years. They have taken early retirement and live in a tiny village called Turunç (pronounced almost like Trunch). They have embraced Turkish culture, coming to grips with the language and are very involved in their community. We met some of their English and Turkish friends, and were able to find out a bit about what it is like to live in Turkey, learning about Food, culture and customs. Every time we were introduced to someone new, the opening greeting was 'welcome'.
When we made our decision to spend the winter in Greece and Turkey we ignored warnings from some friends that they had found it too cold, and chose to just get on down there. There were none of those grey misty days we get in the UK and we didn't get much rain. However, according to the local press it was the coldest winter Turkey has experienced for 90 years. The biting wind coming down from the snow laden mountains prevented us from sitting out so we did a lot of scenic drives and visited many ancient historical sites.
After we left Jobey and Lea we felt ready to head back home. The drive north could take us via Istambul and into Bulgaria and Serbia, we could go back to Greece and through Albania, but the least beaurocratic way seemed to be to go back the way we came using the ferry from Patras on the Peloponnes to Ancona in Italy.
After we left Jobey and Lea we felt ready to head back home. The drive north could take us via Istambul and into Bulgaria and Serbia, we could go back to Greece and through Albania, but the least beaurocratic way seemed to be to go back the way we came using the ferry from Patras on the Peloponnes to Ancona in Italy.
Earlier in our trip we had met some French travellers in Olympos, Greece and they told us about a daily ferry service between the Greek island of Chios and Cesme in Turkey. (D and E on the map above).This seemed like a good way to get back to Greece so I looked up the ferries to see if they ran year round. Yes, they did, so we drove to Cesme and Mike went into the ticket office to negotiate our ferry to Chios. He purchased a ticket, a very steep £140.00 for a 45 minute crossing. He was to drive through onto the dock and I had to get on as a foot passenger, following the agent. When I got in to the port area there was an enormous ferry moored and loading. I was pleasantly surprised as I was expecting a smaller vessel and asked a lorry driver if it was the ferry to Chios. No, it was the one to Venice in Italy. Perfect. That would suit us down to the ground. Why weren't we on it? I found Mike who had by now arrived with the van and he went and questioned our agent. It was only available for commercial vehicles and freight. He pointed to a rusty tub called the St Nicholas which was moored in front of us. It didn't look seaworthy or big enough for us to get on, there must have been a mistake. We asked him again, no that was our vessel and it would be departing later. After we had driven on board I saw a notice in Greek that I deduced meant that it was licenced to take a 2.5t vehicle. ie a car. The sea was very rough and for the whole of the 45 minute crossing we rocked and rolled in heavy swell and the van became covered in salt water spray. I couldn't leave the van, which juddered as we hit the big waves. Mike was outside chatting to foot passengers and seemed to take great delight in telling me how precarious our position looked to be. The van had become my universe and I couldn't leave, just in case he wasn't exaggerating. When we arrived at the quayside in Chios matters became worse. Below is a photograph of another vehicle coming off the same ferry on a different occasion. The boat was as high in the water and our van is longer with a greater distance between the wheels. It is also much lower to the ground. This meant that we couldn't just drive off or the van would have become stuck on the ramp, the central part of the base acting as a pivot, like a see saw. The crew raised the ramp to horizontal and placed wedges for Mike to reverse his back wheels on to. They then lowered the ramp to the quay but our van was too long and too low to the deck and the base became stuck on the ramp. They found some coiled rope which was placed behind the front wheels to raise our van by a couple more inches.
Mike reversed and the rope dislodged from underneath the front wheels and sped accross the deck, nearly taking out an Australian foot passenger in the process. The ropes were replaced by the crew, I was terrified, now believing we were really stuck. Attempt no. 3 was successful and Mike reversed on to dry land.
There are no pictures to demonstrate this as I was on the deck providing instructions to Mike. Below are the ones taken as we drove on in Turkey, the easy part, before the game commenced.
There are no pictures to demonstrate this as I was on the deck providing instructions to Mike. Below are the ones taken as we drove on in Turkey, the easy part, before the game commenced.
The next step of our journey was another ferry to Piraeus on the Greek mainland. There wasn't one until the following evening, so Mike negotiated with the Greek customs to let us park outside their offices for the following 24hrs as there weren't any car parks large enough for us in the town. We had a nice meal out and slept well. The following afternoon I watched our ferry from the day before make its daily arrival from Cesme. It arrived very quickly in reverse towards the dockside, the anchor was lowered while it was still moving and used as a brake dragging along the sea bed.
The next stage of our journey to the mainland was uneventful, although the much larger ferry to the mainland also did a huge 180 degree spin in the harbour before docking. Perhaps these Greek captains are so bored they have developed ways of arriving in port to relieve a tedious routine.
The next stage of our journey to the mainland was uneventful, although the much larger ferry to the mainland also did a huge 180 degree spin in the harbour before docking. Perhaps these Greek captains are so bored they have developed ways of arriving in port to relieve a tedious routine.
Our ferry arrived the following morning at Piraeus on mainland Greece. We experienced a hectic drive to the new port of Patras on the Peloponnese and Mike parked opposite the Minoan Lines office. The dashboard warning light was illuminated indicating that one of the doors was open. Mike checked and it was the rear doors. Seemed strange and we couldn't explain it so Mike went into the Minoan Lines office and booked our crossing to Italy. He was told that the port staff were on strike and there was no indication when it would finish. The port police warned us away from parking at the ferry terminal, so we went to Kalogria beach about 40kms away. On our return the following afternoon the strike was still in progress. Mike had a highly entertaining few hours, dividing his time between the Minoan information office, other passengers and me, keeping us all informed on the progress of the strike. As he chatted to other truck drivers during our delay he also solved the mystery of the open rear doors of the day before. The main road towards the port slopes downhill on a curve in the road, with a set of traffic lights at the bottom. Traffic has to slow down and usually stop for the lights. Potential thieves and stowaways take the opportunity to enter vehicles from the rear. In our instance this proved impossible, because of the bikes and the lighting board at the back. We will now try and remember to lock the doors from the inside.
The strike resolved itself at around midnight the same evening and we got to our cabin at about 2am. The rest of the drive home was very straight forward.
The strike resolved itself at around midnight the same evening and we got to our cabin at about 2am. The rest of the drive home was very straight forward.