It was ab nice sunny day, if it wasn't for the cold headwind. I estimated to arrive in Pamukkale around 3 p.m. just in time to have a look at the waterfalls. I was looking very much forward to it, craving to arrive and stop fighting the freezing head wind.
In Köprübasi the valley I was riding through opened into a plane. There were several roads to Pamukkale, forming a rhombus-like shape. I decided to take the north route, because I hoped for less traffic one those smaller roads.
Halfway to Ahmetli a car halted with and open window. The guy introduced himself as a doctor and asked my profession. I tried both words; muhendis and engineer. He said we should go for a tee in the next village.
When I arrived there some people were taking me to his office. He said he would be one hour. I thought, ok the man is busy, and waited. A friend of his took me for a tee. He only spoke turkish and was not very much into sign language, so that was a silent hour. Than I was taken back to his office and before the door one of the many patients, and waiting started to talk in german to me, asking first about what suffering caused my visit at the doctors. The others gathered around and waited for translation. After some time, seeing all these these people waiting, I realized that one hour is not remotely enough. So I wrote my number down and gave it to the doctor, thinking that we also could have tea in Pamukkale, which is 10 minutes by car. During the handover, the doc asked me what a missionary could possibly be looking for here. When I was looking quite confused, he repeated the words for missionary in turkish, which sounded like a combination of the turkish and english word for engineer. I was laughing trying again to correctly pronounce the turkish designation for my occupation. The old man who also asked me before helped me correct the misunderstanding. Without rectifying that, I probably could have waited until I grew gray hair... Playing a joke one a missionary...
Before leaving the old man insisted one giving directions. He said that the way I was about to take is on a bad road and that I should go back (7 km) and take the main road. I was tempted to ignore his advice, but since I was still in view at the crossing I followed it, not wanting to be disrespectful. Later I could have bitten myself for that.
Later, when I took the turn suggested by the road sign I read from the next sign 25 km to Pamukkale. This after a distance after which I should have arrived already at my destination if I had followed my initial plan. After studying the maps I found out that the suggested way one the main roads is also a huge detour, that by far could not be compensated in travelling time by the better surfaces.
I could not help it getting A BIT angry at everyone and most of all at myself.
I arrived finally at five p.m. so I save the sightseeing for tomorrow.
In Köprübasi the valley I was riding through opened into a plane. There were several roads to Pamukkale, forming a rhombus-like shape. I decided to take the north route, because I hoped for less traffic one those smaller roads.
Halfway to Ahmetli a car halted with and open window. The guy introduced himself as a doctor and asked my profession. I tried both words; muhendis and engineer. He said we should go for a tee in the next village.
When I arrived there some people were taking me to his office. He said he would be one hour. I thought, ok the man is busy, and waited. A friend of his took me for a tee. He only spoke turkish and was not very much into sign language, so that was a silent hour. Than I was taken back to his office and before the door one of the many patients, and waiting started to talk in german to me, asking first about what suffering caused my visit at the doctors. The others gathered around and waited for translation. After some time, seeing all these these people waiting, I realized that one hour is not remotely enough. So I wrote my number down and gave it to the doctor, thinking that we also could have tea in Pamukkale, which is 10 minutes by car. During the handover, the doc asked me what a missionary could possibly be looking for here. When I was looking quite confused, he repeated the words for missionary in turkish, which sounded like a combination of the turkish and english word for engineer. I was laughing trying again to correctly pronounce the turkish designation for my occupation. The old man who also asked me before helped me correct the misunderstanding. Without rectifying that, I probably could have waited until I grew gray hair... Playing a joke one a missionary...
Before leaving the old man insisted one giving directions. He said that the way I was about to take is on a bad road and that I should go back (7 km) and take the main road. I was tempted to ignore his advice, but since I was still in view at the crossing I followed it, not wanting to be disrespectful. Later I could have bitten myself for that.
Later, when I took the turn suggested by the road sign I read from the next sign 25 km to Pamukkale. This after a distance after which I should have arrived already at my destination if I had followed my initial plan. After studying the maps I found out that the suggested way one the main roads is also a huge detour, that by far could not be compensated in travelling time by the better surfaces.
I could not help it getting A BIT angry at everyone and most of all at myself.
I arrived finally at five p.m. so I save the sightseeing for tomorrow.
