July 27: Crossing Over Into Asia
Woohoo! When plotting out a route around the Marmara Sea of Turkey a couple weeks ago I realized that the loop would take me into Asia for the first time as I crossed the Dardanelles Straight near Bayirkoy. What a great day it turned out to be.
Waking up to the sounds of roosters crowing and dogs barking, I packed up my gear, discarding the dozens of mosquito carcasses laying on my belongings after one of the hotel employees spritzed them with bug spray late last night in a heroic effort to save me from being bitten during my sleep.
After thanking the manager and his wife for their kind hospitality, I headed east from Ipsala and then south towards the Sea of Marmara, the Turkish body of water connecting the Black Sea to the Aegean Sea through the Bosporus and Dardanelles straits, separating Turkey’s European and Asian sides.
Coming up over a rise and seeing the shimmering bright blue sea waters before me and the Asian portion of Turkey off in the distance, I felt a sense of awe and excitement at the new adventures that lay ahead. Crossing over the Canakkale Bridge into a new continent, I stopped for a photo opportunity to commemorate the occasion.
The ride east along the southern side of the sea was incredibly pleasant, with temperatures in the low 90’s or below, well maintained roads, and traffic that was easier to navigate than I had anticipated. Although I was consistently passed when going well over the posed speed limit, the drivers themselves were incredibly respectful and generally stayed in their lanes.
The landscape I passed through was largely agricultural, with fields and farmlands creating a beautiful patchwork quilt of brown, yellow, and green colors in the rolling hills to my right. Farmers were parked on the sides of the roads with fresh produce for sale right out of their trucks or tractors. When I stopped at a gas station, a bulldozer and large farming vehicle fueling up at the pumps next to me towered over Adventure Baby.
I pulled over later to admire one roadside stand and the gentleman manning the booth insisted I sample his produce. As I bit into the ripe white melon, called beyaz kavun, the juice dribbled down my chin and into my helmet padding. The farmer refused to take my money, indicating with his hands that he was so happy to see me traveling by motorcycle.
Before reaching Bandirma, I took a break on the side of the road to gaze at a particularly scenic vista of sunflowers in the foreground with green fields and rolling hills beyond. Munching on a protein bar for energy, I stood for a while watching the bright yellow heads blowing gently in the breeze. What a great day to be on the bike!
