This morning I did not want too get out of bed, but I did get out anyway. Leaving the smoky city behind me, cafter climbing the first hill the view reached far ahead over a hilly landscape without any forests. The road went in straight ligne straight up and down over what looked like waves of earth. So all couple of minutes I had too adapt the pace, making it hard too find a rhythm. I adapted badly to such roads, especially in a 'I don't really feel like cycling' mood. I really look forward to stay for a longer time in Istanbul, get myself and the bike fixed with hammam and screwdrivers respectively.
In Süloglu I made a longer break in the park at the center. When I was about to leave a stork landed on the, roof of the small kiosk beside the park. It was nice to actually see one of those builders of nests I saw since Poland here and there but always empty.
While I was sitting in my hotel room, suddenly the phone rang. I hesitated picking it up, thinking, that surely somebody most have gotten the wrong number. To my surprise the voice at the other end spoke German. The person turned out to be Andreas, a guy I met 44 days ago (as we later figured out) in Hungary. Hey and his girlfried saw my bike in the lobby, wondered and then remembered as they saw Joda, that it has to be me. Well went for a drink and talked a couple of hours. They travelled through Rumania, one of the few countries I had to miss out on my, eastern europe tour, so I was keen to learn how they experienced it.
Hopefully we'll meet in Istanbul againg. If more coincidences like this happen, then I might get most of the cyclists I met one this journey around a table in the metropolis.
In Süloglu I made a longer break in the park at the center. When I was about to leave a stork landed on the, roof of the small kiosk beside the park. It was nice to actually see one of those builders of nests I saw since Poland here and there but always empty.
While I was sitting in my hotel room, suddenly the phone rang. I hesitated picking it up, thinking, that surely somebody most have gotten the wrong number. To my surprise the voice at the other end spoke German. The person turned out to be Andreas, a guy I met 44 days ago (as we later figured out) in Hungary. Hey and his girlfried saw my bike in the lobby, wondered and then remembered as they saw Joda, that it has to be me. Well went for a drink and talked a couple of hours. They travelled through Rumania, one of the few countries I had to miss out on my, eastern europe tour, so I was keen to learn how they experienced it.
Hopefully we'll meet in Istanbul againg. If more coincidences like this happen, then I might get most of the cyclists I met one this journey around a table in the metropolis.
