The road to Cappadocia

The first day of cycling after the short break in Istanbul was to Iznik. During this day I had to do some repair works on my bike for the first time. The axle connecting my two pedals (I do not know the proper English) was getting loose, and made the pedals move sideways. At first I could tighten the “bolt” manually, but soon the intervals to redo the job got smaller. In Iznik I was able to find a guy, who tightened it properly, I thought. Free of charge although he could keep the standard I asked him to remove from the bike as well. Now my bike was stripped of all excessive weights.
The next day to Sogut I cycled through the cherry orchards. Many farmers were willing to indulge me with a sack of cherries. At the end of the day I had to refuse taking them because I already had eaten so many and still had a kg strapped to my bike. Out of courtesy I always ate a few. Apart for eating cherries many times I was called to the side of the road to drink some tea. I hardly missed any invitation. The invitations to eating cherries ended when I left the region, invitations to drink tea I got everywhere along the route in Turkey. Halfway during the day I took a live of a cat by riding over it, fortunately they seem to have nine and with its left over lives he managed to run away unharmed. The next morning, when I left my hotel I was invited to have breakfast at the opposite restaurant. When I was about to leave, because I was totally filled up, the people indicated I had to stay for a little longer as they had ordered a coffee for me at a shop nearby. The first part of the day was very nice over rolling hills and alongside a little river. I even saw a fox running in the distance. At my destination I managed to find an affordable hotel, but this one did not have, like the previous, any showers.I got my first flat tire just outside of Kirka. With my spoon and the file on my leatherman I managed to get the tire of the front wheel. A burst at the base of the valve appeared to be the reason. It seemed not possible to repair, so I put on the tube I got from Sylvain. For this I had to take the wheel of the bike, but for a change I came prepared, I had bought a wrench to help me with it. Although it rained during the day it was nice cycling. Only when I had to cycle back for a couple of km to retrieve my forgotten road map at a lokanta, I had a little bit less fun in it. At my destination Afyon it really started raining and it was when I took cover in a little shop that sold only one kind of sandwich, that I finally met a Turk who spoke English very well. We decided that we would drink a few beers after he had finished working at the shop and his colleagues would join as well. The boss of the joint preferred to drink outside, so we (they did not allow me to pay for anything so it is actually they) bought a couple of cans of Efes and drove with the turkfiat to the station a favorite hangout of the boss. Unfortunately it was still raining, so we ended up with the five of us drinking in the small, soon foggy car. The beer tasted good though and the company was nice.

From Afyon I cycled to Aksehir. It was not my intention to cycle that many km, but I did not see a suitable place to stay and I had the wind in the back. In the morning I had feared my cycling would be over for a while because a repairman had taken off the steering from my frame and in the process broken some parts. I just had wanted him to tighten a bolt on my steering, which actually did not properly fit. It was slightly to big, I had solved it by putting toilet paper in between the bolt and the steering bar and then had tightened it, but this was no sustainable solution, hence my visit to this guy. Fortunately my man was not put off by this small setback and sent some one to the market to fetch some parts. Although they did not part, he managed to grind them in such a way that they did. The end result was that the new bolt sat tight as a house. I paid him with a flacon of soap, I just got before from a traveling salesman who had stopped me on the highway to talk to me. The road to Kadinhani was tough as I had wind head on.Every excuse to stop I took. First the invitation to join breakfast (it was quite well assorted: tea; bread; two sorts of cheese; melon; tomatoes; cucumber and olives) with four truckers at the road side and many tea breaks. After midday the wind could change every five minutes. One moment I was cruising nicely with wind in the back and the other moment I had to work hard because it came straight at me, without me changing directions.

In Konya the first three people I spoke with answered me in Dutch. The first was a café owner I drank tea with. The second was working in a bicycle shop and the third I happen to sit opposite to in a Kebab joint. All three had worked in Holland for a couple of years but were made to leave. The next morning when I wanted to leave I could not find my bike any more. I feared it was stolen, but after inquiring with the hotel manager I learned that they had put it in a cupboard in the hotel to keep it safe. In Konya I made the mistake not to buy bread. Although I had many opportunities I delayed my purchase all the time until it was too late. Eventually I had to cycle 70 km before I finally could buy my lunch. I enjoyed my just purchased bread on a picnic place which I shared with to men who were shaving each others head with a blunt razor. They looked quite fierce afterwards with their bloody heads. They were very friendly though they came to offer me a couple of glasses of soda. I could not find a proper place to stay the night, so I ended up at Aksaray. Underway I had seen many little marmots running away from the road when I passed them. Unfortunately they always were to quick for me to take a picture of them.

An idyllic spot I had lunch. Some annoying kids disturbed the idyll and got me on my bike again. During this days' trip to Derinkuyu I got problems with the axel connecting my pedals again. I managed to tighten the bolt with the help of my spoon quite well and after that it did not bother me again that day and the next. As a sleeping place I chose a place in a row of trees. In the evening I had trouble falling a sleep because of the hundreds of starlings in them. What could be expected, but I did not think of beforehand, happened. The next morning when I woke up my sleeping bag was covered with bird shit. Except for the unwelcome bird gifts Cappadocia was a wonderful experience.Beautifully shaped rocks, made inhabitable by early Christians, rough gorges and nice off road paths to see it all. In one of the gorges 3 churches were created in the eroded rocks!

I was cycling through a gorge (?) and had been told by a guide that I could exit it at the end. Probably I took a wrong turn again somewhere because I ended up on a hiking trail. Had to push my bike regularly as the inclination was round 50%. Even without bike it would have been difficult to go up. But I made it, although this opening was hardly wide enough for my handle bars to go through.

Istanbul

From the map I had seen of Istanbul I had the impression I had to go to the Asian side of Istanbul to go to my hostel. Fortunately I took some wrong turns which saved me from cycling about 20 km for nothing. Most hostels are close to the Sultan Ahmet mosque, also known as the blue mosque, which is stil on the European side. In the small streets behind the mosqueI ran into two fellow cyclists with many more kilomters under their belts. They had been cycling for morte than two years and now were on their way home, France. This home trip would still take them another five months on the road. I decided to take the same hostel as they would take, but as theirs was full, I ended up in my origanally intended hostel, 20 meters down the road. Istanbul and his hostels was a renewed reconnaissance with fellow travelers and tourists after a while of relatively loneliness. So many people to talk to and really able to properly communicate and share thoughts and stories with. Very often big cities are to big for me and I want to leave them, but altough Istanbul possibly is the biggest city I have been, I never felt bored. There always seemed something to do or to see and when I did not want to do that I could hang out with one of the many fellow travelers in the (neıghbouring) hostel.
The next morning after breakfast (included in the price), where I really stuffed my self with getting many orders of bread and scavaging untouched parts of others breakfast I moved to the hostel of Sylvain and Fabrice, the two French cyclists as my hostel was full for the rest of the week. I had failed to book more than one night in my urge to always keep my options open. Their hostel was full as well, but the owner allowed us to sleep in the bar for reduced price. Which was actually a nicer place than dormitory, the only down side was that we could only go to sleep when all people were gone (normally early as all people preferred to sit outside) and had to get up before breakfast was served. The French intoxicated me with their cycling stories and made me more determined to go cycling for a longer stretch. So I doubled the value of my bike by buying two new tyres. They had much less drag and were better protected against punctures.
On Thursday June-8, I was pleasantly surprised by the arrival of Jake, the beginning writer I met in Tunis. He made a stopover in Istanbul on his way from India to Germany. We did some sight seeing and had dinner together with the French and two of Fabrices friends. The next day some more wandering through the city and I searched for some tools to be able to do some maintenance on my bike. At night Fabrice and I had diner, Jake did not feel like eating and Sylvain had left to France for an appearance on a surprise party for his father. Following that we watched a worlcup football match in a locals bar. Because the wheather was bad the hostels’ bar was quite full and we could not go to bed. The owner, a very friendly guy, allowed us to sleep on a dorm, after allowing Fabrice, Sylvain and me to sleep in a vacant room (for two, I slept great on a pile of blankets on the floor) the the previous night.
Saturday morning I left before seven to get the ferry to Yalova of 7:30. Unfortunately I had not said goodbyes to Fabrice and Jake. Fabrice half woke up when I packed my bag, so I could thank him for the map and all the advice he gave me. Jakes hostel was nearby and he woke up when I called his name (surprise;-) in the dorm and we were able to wish each other pleasant journeys again. After that I had just enough time to catch the ferry out of Istanbul. By taking the ferry I did not have to cycle over the highway at all as I had done on the way into Istanbul.

Via email I found out good friends had gotten a daughter. Her name is Tara.

Cycling!

I arrived at Çanakkale late in the evening and took the first hotel I could fınd and afford. This turned out to be an old, dirty, smelly and noisy place, but it had a bed and that for me is the most important feature of a hotel. The same night I already found a much nicer place on internet, but I could not change anymore, I had already paid. The next morning I switched to the other hotel, which was just around the corner. The rest of the day I searched for a bicycle. Halfway the day I found a suitable second hand one, but tried the rest of the day find a better one. In the evening I returned to my earlier find and negotiated for an hour over the price, meanwhile drinking tea. At the end I could cycle back to my hostel, whıch was cleaner, the company nicer, slightly quieter (the same bar was around the corner) and where I could sleep on dormitory and it was cheaper as well. The next day I tried to find bags for on the bike or when those were not to be found, the proper material to have them made. I failed to find both. In the evening I drank with my Australian roommates gin till 4 in the morning, while I had planned to leave at 7 to start cycling. With only a delay of one and a half hour and a slight headache I left the hostel with my backpack strapped on my package carrier. It did not feel to stable but it did not fall off. I took the ferry to cross to the European side. I had decided to first go east to visit the monuments erected for the 500,000 fallen in WW1. I was cruising nicely, wind in the back, not to bad hills to climb. My destination of the day was Galipoli in exactly the opposite direction I was cycling. So at the end of the day I turned out to be fighting against the wind and totally exhausted I reached Galipoli in a heavy rain. Fortunately I could take shelter in a shed. My first day of cycling had given me a great feeling of freedom, but to be honest I had not expected it to be so straining. After dinner in town I am not able to find back my hotel. I have no clue what direction I should go. Fortunately I took a little card with the name of the hotel with me. The first person I asked for directions walked all the way with me to the hotel and then just left. I still have to get used to the Turkish hospitality. In the hotel I was welcomed by the owner and his help with tea, cherries and nuts. We tried to communicate, but their knowledge of English was very limited and my Turkish was non existent, so we did not exchange much thoughts. They found a booklet “how to say it in English” and with this we could get across slightly more thoughts. Later that evening a school class on school trip arrived accompanied by some teachers among them also the English teacher. He acted as interpreter and we finally could talk about the important stuff. I I ws married and what football club I favored. When we parted he gave me a wooden bracelet used for praying I have no idea why.

Next days I cycled to Istanbul via stops at Sarköy, Tekirdağ and Sevirli. Every day I arrived early in the afternoon or late in the afternoon at my destination of the day so I had plenty of time to checkout the places. I had lunches and breakfasts at deserted beaches at the Sea of Marmara. I saw dolphins also heading for Istanbul, although I later on in Istanbul did not see them again. Once I was cycling steep uphill for more than half an hour when I found out I was on the wrong road. The advantage of climbing on the wrong road is that I was back in the valley in about 5 minutes. It was not entirely my own fault as I had asked four people and all directed me in that direction.I had some gravel roads going up so steep I thought walking would be easier. This was not the case, pushing the bike was even harder work. The legs get tired from walking up, the arms from pushing the bike and me feet kept sliding away on the gravel. So as soon as the road let me I got back on the bike again and cycled as slowly as I could. After five days on June the 6th, I reached Istanbul. Finally time to rest my akeing legs.

Turkish delight

Usually the first thing I do when I arrive in a town in which I want to stay is to search for a ho(s)tel. In Marmaris it was not different. I had already visited a few but was not happy with the price. Then a young man, in the age category I used to avoid asking questions to, asked me if I was looking for a hostel. After some hesitations I admitted. What I already feared happened he was leading me to a hostel. But to my big surprise when we arrived at it, he just said "here is it, bye bye", leaving me in astonishment. He did not ask for money or to visit his shop. At the reception of the hostel I met John an American, we shared a room together with a Japanese guy, I guess. I am not sure because any attempt from us (John and I) was met with an angry look and a growl so we soon stopped trying to make contact with him. Later at night we walked into town over the boulevard to get something to eat and I was impressed with the number of beautiful commercial yachts lying there. An other thing that could not be missed, not definitly positive, was the large amount of cafes, bars and discos with Dutch names. This town, without doubt, hosts a lot of young drunk English and Dutch people. Although I do not mind being drunk (once in a while) I had no desire to stay in the vicinity of those hordes. For one night it was ok, although it was a bit tame on the dance floor later at night.
The next morning I took the bus to Selçuk to visit Ephesus. Earlier in Morocco an archeologist had told me that Volubilis Rome and Ephesus were in the top five of Roman ruins. I missed Volubilis so I was sure not to miss Ephesus being so close to it. I stayed in Atilla's Getaway which John had recommended. Although it had a swimming pool and places you could lounge in the shade, I did not like the place much. It was to much like a resort and even far away from town. In the evening at the bar over a few beers I started to feel more at ease. They had told me it was easy to walk to Ephesus I just had to follow the path that started above the hostel. So that is what I did after breakfast next morning. Because I did not want to return I also took my backpack. Somehow I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, although I recalled no places I could chose, but I did not find any sign of Ephesus. After I climbed the hill behind which I thought the ruins were I could see on the edge of the next hill some ruins. I was sure this must be Ephesus. With renewed energy I climbed up through the bushes and over the rocks to find only a long old, propably Roman, wall. No sign of Ephesus yet. After further climbing I saw a few hunderd meter below me the ruins of Ephesus. It was much to steep to go down, so I followed the wall, which must have been the first defence line of the old city and the goats who walked there as well and hoped I could go down further along the wall. After three hours of walking I finaly was at the bottom of the hill with a lot of scratches on my arms because of the dense brushes I had to go through at the end, but without my fleece. I hoped it had gotten stuck on the brushes I just went through. So I tried to go up the way as I went down, unsuccesfully, the only thing I got was extra scratches. I found the place I had gone in to the bushes the first time and this time I found my fleece hanging with a cord on branch. Now with my fleece and again some more scratches I went on the final descent to Ephesus. I now had walked so long and had seen a lot of Ephesus form above I did not feel like entering the site anymore, also because my left foot still hurt.

I walked to Selçuk to have lunch, where I met Dirk a Belgium guy. He was traveling with a little truck and caravan and he invited me to travel with him to Pamukkale. I could sleep in the caravan if I liked. After the dinner, Dirk cooked in the truck and a few cans of efes beer it was time to go to sleep. It became clear Dirk did not feel like preparing another bed in the caravan, but invited me with him in his bed. I thought this not a good idea and I opted for sleeping in the cabin of the truck. Although the cabin was not so wide as I am tall, but I am sure that I slept better than I would have by sharing a bed with Dirk. Next morning after elaborate breakfast and doing the dishes with water heated on the roof of the truck we headed for Pamukalle. Soon I found out that we were not going to reach it on the same day. Dirk choose to visit all sites that were indicated by a brown sign (culturaly interesting) on our route and we drove maximum 60 km/h but most of the time close to 40. The first few sites we visited were not impressive. Nissa however was great. It had an almost fully intact theater and also other roman builings were in not to bad a shape. Of course I had my suspicions but it became clear that Dirk was gay and that he fancied me. I do not know what it is with me, I guess my boyish charm must awaken something in gay men. Unfortunately this thing that makes a mens heart run faster does not work on girls. At least I do not notice any effect. Travelling with the truck and caravan was great though. We could stop where we liked and camp, in the middle of town or just in the middle of nowhere. The next day we took another big detour which led us to Afrodisias. This site was amazing. Apart from it's beautiful theater and baths, Afrodisias had an intact stadium with a length of 130 meters totally surrounded with at least 10 rows of seats. Some seats were decorated as they had belonged to important sponsors, like vipboxes. The town even had a giant swimming pool 100 meters in length which was as impressive as the enormous stadium. The next day we finally reached Pamukalle, normally a daytrip from Selçuk and it was a bit of a disappointment. We had seen so much on the way that it did not really matter. Dirk had two bikes with him in the truck with which we cycled everyday. Together with stories from Dirk how he had travelled through countries by bike and the stories of the two Austrians I had met in Mali, made me decide I wanted to cycle as well. Dirk regretted that he had put the idea in my head, but the next day I took some busses to go to Çanakkale in the north west of Turkey to buy a bicycle and cycle through Turkey for as long as I liked it.

Rhodos

Early in the morning I arrived in the beautiful town of Rhodes. It has a well preserved old city center with ancient walls and the works. I decided I did not want to linger in the city as I did not accidentally run into Taco and Iljoesja. I decided to hitchhike south along the east coast. Most cars on Rhodes are rented by tourists and I found out that they seem not keen on taking hitch hikers or at least me. So I did not get very far from Rhodes city. I could have taken one of the buses but decided to just stay at the beach I hiked to while trying to get a ride. Early next morning I woke up with the feeling my upper lip was huge. It must have been stung by a insect. If it really was as it felt you can see at the picture I took to assess the damage as no mirror was near.

From the beach I now took a bus back to Rhodes city, having no confidence in any people willing to take me (my lip would not have helped me I guess). Now I decided to walk down the west coast to Lalyssos, the place Taco and Iljoesja rented an apartment. Again I could not find a nicely priced hotel and I now choose to sleep in the hills. I had settled nicely but had to text message Taco as he wanted to pick me up the next morning in Rhodes-city. This of course gave away I already was on the island and I was promptly invited for dinner, which I did not turn down. I wanted to meet them badly. Although I had frequent contact with Taco the previous months it felt really good to be goıng to fınally meet him and Iljoesja after the these months.

It took me a while before I could find them, also because I had not written down the name of the apartment complex correctly. When I walked past it, the name resembled the name on my note but I dismissed it as the place to be. It took some text messages to eventually get me at my desired destination. Their first reaction to me was that I lost weight. I had not really noticed that, I always was thin (skinny), may be they just had a incorrect thicker image of me. Iljoesja had dinner ready and we ate on the balcony, so I immediately could work on my weight

The next days we took it easy with a few occasions of activity. We twice rented bicycles for a day. They were only slightly more expensive than buying a bus ticket to Rhodes-city where we had dinner at the nights we rented them. At the same time it is fun to cycle especially at the seaside at dusk. One night our diner was paid for by my brother‘s parents so we ate slightly more expensive than the night before. After sleeping the first night at Taco and Iljoesja’s (T&I) place I decided it was better that I slept on my own, they also deserved a nice holiday of course. We did a little tour through the village in search of a cheap room, the cheapest turned out to be the one we visited first. Although still expensive in my view the location was pretty good, being just a couple of hundreds meter away from T&I. Other activities were few, we did some sightseeing in Rhodes-city a small bike tour and played some games of “boonanza” and once “Carcassonne”, Taco and I fooled around the swimming pool with a foam rugby ball, after an hour all other guests had left. Iljoesja every morning prepared breakfast, Taco and I should not have let her, she already did the too much, but it was so convenient. My apologies Iljoesja, I am not a bad person, just a bit lazy. On the 24th of May I got going again. After breakfast with T&I, prepared by Iljoesja, finished by a home made ice coffee, I took the bus to Rhodes city to take the ferry to Marmaris, Turkey. Iljoesja has made me a “survival” bag, with food and drinks. I had expected the ferry to leave at one o’clock but it sails only at four thirty. I kill the time by reading one of the books I got from T&I and by plundering by “survival”bag. The ferry is a rip off, although you almost can see the Turkish harbor and the trıp takes less than an hour a ticket costs 31 euro plus 19 euro taxes. At arrival a visa needs to be bought, it is not expensive, ten euro, but in total it cost me 60 euro to go to Turkey. It better be worth while!

Boats and trains

İ arrived early in the terminal of La Goulette near Tunis for the ferry to Palermo to be certain İ could get a ticket, of course this was pointless. The offices only opened a two hours before departure, but my bus from Tabarka arrived in the afternoon and İ did not feel like wandering through the streets of Tunis. İ had seen enough of Tunisia. When the office finally was open and all the queues gone İ tried to buy my ticket. Unfortunately they only accepted cash Tunisian dinars. İ did not have any also because you are not allowed to export more than a 100 and are not able to trade them outside the country. İ walked back to La Goulette to take the necessary cash from an ATM. The first one was out of order, the second one as well and the third did not except my card. Finally İ found a working machine and put in my card and punched in the proper keys. Than to my horror nothing happened for more than a minute. During that time İ feared had to stay another (semi) week in Tunis to retrieve my card. Fortunately eventually the machine went into action and handed back my card and the requested money.

The voyage to Palermo was comfortable and İ managed to sleep quite well on 4 neighbouring chairs in the Rome room. Palermo was beautiful, but quiet, it was Sunday morning. The only problem was that the few İtalians İ did meet, did not speak any English and could not help me with the directions to the train station. However İ soon ran into two American travelers with a Lonely Planet who also were searching for the station. İ helped them read the map and together we found the station. The train ride was beautiful, luxurious nearly empty carriages and to the left (when facing in the direction of the head of train) great views of the sea (sometimes only three meters away) and to the right views of mountains and villages. In Messina the train with me in it, embarked a ferry and soon we arrived at the Italian mainland. İ tried to find a cheap hotel, but did not succeed. Propably my view of cheap shifted slightly during my stay in Africa. İ decided to try to take a night train to Bari. Although not easy it was possible, but meant İ had to wait for two and a half hour in the middle of the night somewhere close to Napoli. This of course was no problem. İ even almost missed the train because at the last moment they changed the platform the train left from and İ was not aware of it. In the morning İ arrived in Bari. With the ferry to Patras only leaving at 18:00 İ had plenty of time to explore the town and harbor. İ found out they Bari fishermen have a special way of cleaning the underside of their boats. With their feet in the boat and head in a floating dustbin they could reach even to lowest point of the boat. It looked funny though.

Sleeping on the boat to Patras was less comfortable then the one to Palermo, but much better than sleeping in a crowded night train. The floors of some decks were covered with carpet, what made a fine sleeping surface. If they had not wakened me at 4:00 to tell me İ had to disembark, İ would have had a nice night of sleep. When İ finished packing in hurry, it turned out it was not the final destination yet so İ could go back to sleep. The bus brought me to famous Athens. İ already had chosen a place to stay and this time it was easy to find. My brother text messaged İ should stay a while in Athens, so he could spend some well deserved free time with his girlfriend İljoesja before İ would stir things up. This seems not hard to do, Athens is a big city and supposedly there is a lot to see and do. İ was bored with it after 2 days though and took the ferry to Rhodes 2 days early anyway. Maybe the city was not what İ wished for, but that did not apply to the roommates İ had the second night. The three Americans shared their wine and cookies with me and we had a wonderful time. We even managed to get a warning of the police for being to loud, which we were not of course, but that might also have been because the police station were all around us and they had nothing (better to do). İ had planned to watch the final of the champions league, İ was particular interested because İ was in the final of the paidiagames champions league as well. My team did excellent without my attention, Taco text messaged me that and Barcelona and my team Victoria Ceilero had claimed victory. A good night. The next day İ went to Piraeus to take a ferry to Rhodes.

Tiny Tunesia tour

Most of the time İ am to lazy (or caught up in other activities, the friendlier view) to prepare anything when going to a new destination, this time İ at least had determined where to stay in Tunesia. İ was very happy with myself when İ asked the cab driver to bring me from the airport to the Youth Hostel. This happiness vanished when İ realised that apart for asking too much money the driver also handed me a one dinar coin when he should have given me fıve dinar. He was not allowed to drop me at the door of the hostel, no cars are allowed in the medina, but he could have stopped at a place it would have been much easier to find the hostel. Just another bad experience with cab drivers. They seem to be the same in every country. İn pitch dark İ tried to find my way through the deserted and dirty medina. Fortunately İ met a (good looking) girl who led me to the hostel. When she invited me to show me the medina my standard decline came before İ knew it and İ was on my own the rest of the night, İ am (sometimes) such a loser.

What İ already thought to have seen in the evening became more apparent the next day, Tunis, apart from the medina, looks like a southern French town. İ don’t dislike French towns, but was disappointed to find it in Africa. A little bit more luxuoury is nice, but this felt out of place. İ decided İ did not want to stay to long in Tunesia. An other reason not to linger in Tunesia was that İ wanted to meet my brother and his girlfriend somewhere in the period May 15 to 26, when they would enjoy their holliday on Rhodos. İ met Jake, an starting American writer and we decided to do a short trip through Tunesia. We visited Cartage together and concluded that the Romans had done a pretty good job in destroying it, but that the people after them were no slouches either. Jake was going for a definitive picture of Tunesia, in La Goulette on the way back from Carthage to Tunis he got it. When he found out that the ferry to Malta, his preferred next stop would only sail the next day, he decided he had seen enough of Tunesia and would leave the next day. Although not hugely impressed with Tunesia İ felt İ had not seen enough yet and decided to go south to Sousse.
At night in the hostel İ fortunately met another American, his name İ never was sure of. İ thought İ heard him say his name was Pete when talking to another guy, so thats what İ called him, but never to loud. İ had asked for his name when we met, but as often happens with me İ am to busy saying my own name, that İ forget to listen to what the other says. Then after knowing the person for a day and doing things together İ did not have the guts ask for it again. The next day we said goodbye to Jake and Pete and İ took the train to Sousse. There we shared a room, fortunately there were two beds. (İ once shared a double bed with my best friend and İ did not sleep a wink and that was not because of a lot of activity;-). Pete ended up wearing my only shorts though. We bought a sandwich shoarma to go and instantly the grease dripped on our pants. Pete wanted to immediatly clean them, mine already were in a disastrous state, the few extra stains propably would not be notıced, but washed mine anyway. Pete had brought only one pair of trousers, whereas İ brought 2. İ offered Pete to use my shorts but he declined. He decided to stay in the room until his pants were dry, İ went out to walk through the old town and go to an internet cafe to read mail and possibly update my log (which İ obviously did not do). When İ returned to the room the door was locked and İ knocked a few times and called a few times for Pete, but never very loud, because it most likely was not his name. After a while İ left assuming Pete had gone out, wearing my shorts. İ went back into town and returned after an hour, same procedure same result. İ went down stairs and watched a Tunesian soap series ın Arabic with the locals. After an hour the series had ended, İ went up again and found the door open. Pete said he never had left the room. A wise lesson for me, always ask for someones name (if İ want to know it of course)

After a night with lots of sleep we took the train of 8:00 to El Jem a small town with a huge a well preserved Roman amphitheater. Pete wanted to go to the beach. İ wanted to be back in Tunis on Saturday to take the ferry to Sicily, which gave me not enough time to visit and the beach and the other places İ thought worthwhile to visit. Together we took two louages (a shared taxi that only leaves when full, not African full, but when every by the car manufacturor intended seat is taken), first to Sfax and without waiting time one to Gabes. From there İ took the bus south to Matamata. İ stayed in a hotel that was used for a couple of starwars movies. The hotel was totally underground, only the courtyards had day light and all the rooms had a door to one of the courtyards. The courtyards were an open hole in the ground. İt was a very nice system, this way there was enough light and at the same time the rooms were cool.From Matmata İ went to Tozeur in the west of the country. İ am not sure why İ wanted to visit this particular city, anyway it failed to impress me on arrival. İt propably had something to do with the salt planes that were closeby. Unfortunatly İ had expected huge planes, white as far as the eye could see, in reality it was only a relatively small area with salt. Apart from that, it took me more than two hours to find the place İ wanted to sleep. An example of when preparation has a bad effect, İ could have gone to plenty of other sleeping places (at the same time you could argue İ should have prepared more). From Tozeur İ went via Gafsa to El Kef. This at first was a disappointment, but after reaching the old town I was pleasanly surprısed. İ even managed to walk over the old town wall, from where İ had a magnificent view over the town and the surrounding lands as El Kef is built on a hill.

The next morning İ took the early bus to Jendouba, from where it should be easy to visit Bulla Regia. A ruin of a Roman town, which is famous for the underground built rooms. İ asked a cab driver how far it was to walk and he told me it would be maximum four km. İ thought this to be a good walking distance and took of. After 200m İ saw a sign indicating Bulla Regia to be 8 km away. Still doable but less apealing, İ am a bit of a stubborn person so after deciding to go on foot İ kept on going. Wıth my pants and shirt soaking wet of sweat İ arrived at the famous ruin, which better be worthwhile the hike. İt was. Not only beautifully preserved rooms underground also nice intact structures above the ground. When İ had seen enough İ walked back to the road from Jendouba to Tabarka (my next destination). İ had the idea to hitch hike, take a passing louage or bus, İ did not want to walk the remaining six km back to Jendouba. Hitch hiking did not work out, the louages that passed were all full, which makes sense, so İ had to wait for the bus.
When İ entered the harbour of the small town at the coast in the northwest of Tunesia, where it is not crowded with resorts yet, İ noticed a Dutch caravan. İ thought it to be nice to meet a fellowcountry man, but soon it became clear there was a whole herd of them. They were there with the ANWB camping club and had been together in Tunesia for already a month. İ was surprised everybody was still alive, İ guess İ would have died or killed when travelling in a group like that for so long. Still my Dutch nature played up. İ had seen a beautiful beach without any buildings closeby in the distance and was on my way there, when İ saw a little stream flowing in to the sea. İ just had to try to build a dam in it. After two hours of non-stop working İ had managed to raise the water level of the little lake that had formed before the dam, but still the water was flowing. İ was short of big stones, but most of all İ was short of energy and drinking water. At the same time my legs and back were badly burnt, İ was only wearing my underwear. Although İ have spent three months in constant sun, only my head and upper arms have been exposed to the sun, so İ was just as white as an Englishman. İ struggled back to the hotel and was glad İ found a little shop where they sold soda. The next day İ went back to Tunis to take the night ferry of the 14th of May (to indicate it is a while ago, it definitly was a Saturday so it might have been an other date) to Palermo.