a few shots from Sinop Kalesi.. and old roman castle on the sea side which later would become a fortress prison in the mid 1800's
one last shot of Amasra
İnebolu.. a town where the rain almost carried me away to never-never land.
the view from the cliffs of the black sea are in many ways similar to my memories of the pacific ocean from Samoa. the water seems to drift of into an endless blue while being dwarfed by huge green cliffs that roll off into the distance. the cool thing about the black sea is that you can imagine each country to the opposite side. from where i sit here in Sinop it is easy to image ukraine directly north of me. im moving fast and im okay with that. i want to get to georgia to see something different. for now im happy with my camping-travels along the beautiful and turbulent nature of the karadeniz. here are a few stories from my travels so far...
my story begins with the beautiful ayşe naz. we left istanbul and went directly to ereğli to meet a friend i chanced upon a few times back in the city. he blessed us with the keys to an old apartment and gave us shelter and food for a few days while showing us around the sea side village surrounding the small city. his father was a politically driven man whose voice was slow and easy for me to understand. i was compelled by his nationalist stories and actually felt kind of proud to be living in turkey. the beauty of his village cliff-side house was indescribable and i sincerely regret not photo documenting it. it was his dream house that he built with his wife and they life there happily in peace and sunshine. ayşe naz and i found our way to amasra via four boring mini buses. amasra is painfully cool. it is an old roman fortress with many travelers from all over europe. i was probably the only american for a hundred kilometers. we set up camp near a series of almost impossible rocks and built a tent under the saftey of the watchful stars. this is where i said goodbye to her and began my story of traveling alone. its a long way from here to kırgızıstan.
since she left ive traveled with various strangers ive met. first a group of three french folk who accompanied me to inebolu, yet another small city along the black sea. we set up camp next to an old mosque with permission from the iman. this was alongside a gypsy camp on the beach who paid us no mind at all yet lived peacefully in their more than temporary dwellings in tents on the beach. that night... all hell fell from the sky and the air was illuminated with lightning more than it was ever filled with darkness. i didnt sleep. i curled into the only dry corner of my tent and protected my backpack from the invading storm. everything was soaked.. it was at this point that i packed up and slept on the floor of the mosque for a few hours before abandoning the city all together to head to my next destination without saying goodbye to my new friends.
when you travel alone the voice in your head sings loudly to you like punk rock music, forever narrating your life and reminding you of your successes and failures. nobody is there to tell you the way and when you end up in a strange and unfamiliar city with the expressionless eyes of the locals fixed on you, you had better be smart. you learn from experience and you grow balls really fast. this is survival. you know when youve made a mistake and you know what you must do to escape from its consequences. beer that night tastes better than any beer youve ever had.
for now im safe and healthy and clean. i had my first shower outside of the sea in quite a long time. im full of life and looking to the east quickly. its easy to hitchhike and im tired of the easy way out. ill be in georgia soon and after that my story will continue in azerbaijan.
me and bob... dont ask...
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