12 July, Kâhta to Siverek (50km + 40km lift)
Öğretmenevi 60TL

Our first 50km took us seven hours (05:15 to 12-ish); the next 40km just 30 minutes. In between we took a ferry across the Ataturk dam, the nearby bridge being still under construction. We took three breaks during the first 50km stretch, each at more informal options than our customary garage or tea shop breaks. These were at tiny shops operated out of a village home. At one, a woman squatted sorting onions; at another, a man in baggy-crotch trousers chatting with friends under a shady tree, saw us crossing the road and came to unlock and serve. By the time we reached the ferry the heat was almost intolerable, my furnace breath cleaving my tongue to the roof of my mouth. In the queue waiting to board was a small Ford truck. We took one look at it and knew that it represented salvation from the road ahead. We tracked down the driver and persuaded him to give us a lift to Siverek. There was not one tree or patch of shade or village or shop or garage on the hot, hilly route – making us doubly grateful to our driver. The base of the truck was so hot that when Charl levered himself into it to load the bikes, he scalded his hands. Shortly thereafter, still waiting for the ferry, in conversation with a group of young men who had invited us to sit at their table, one wanted to know if Charl and I were married. He pointed to each of us in turn, rubbed his index fingers together and asked: “I love you?” We are in Kurdish country. A teacher at our hotel apologised for not speaking English. In return Charl apologised for not speaking Turkish. “No, no, I am Kurd”, was his response. 

Between Kâhta and Siverek

Between Kâhta and Siverek

Between Kâhta and Siverek

Between Kâhta and Siverek

Between Kâhta and Siverek