At Karl-Heinz' house
Saturday 27th September 2014
Charly & K-H leave first. I go for a final swim in the Med and then follow. We are heading for Karl-Heinz' house in Kemer, south of Antalya.
At
first the road winds along the cliff-side in classic coast road style (poorly maintained and dangerous as hell) but soon it improves and
from Alanya is fast and smooth. I stop to photograph more Byzantine
Crusader castles. Unfortunately the best example on this coast is closed
for renovation works.
The concept of bypassing towns has
not caught on much in Turkey and every settlement is a series of traffic
lights that slow down the journey hugely.
Many of the lights have a countdown timer showing how many seconds to the next change. Most Turkish drivers treat this as an opportunity to practice their Formula 1 starts, and many would incur time penalties for jumping it.
Those on the 2nd and 3rd rows of the grid start pipping their horns at Go-minus-2 in case the front runners have dozed off. Cheeky drivers who fancy their chances will try to underpass up the hard shoulder or right-turn-only inside lane. The basic rule is that if you have your front bumper more than a centimetre ahead of your rival the road is yours.
It is bloody scary on a bike because they assume they can nip by in your lane, squeezing you across. The answer of course is to gun the motor and leave them behind, but this is like a red rag to a bull. When you slow for the next set of lights the game starts all over again.
There is thunder in the air. At one point I just have time to seek shelter in another of the brand-new service stations that have been built all along the new roads. I chat with the owner as I enjoy a few cups of his complimentary tea.
From Alanya the coast is heavily
populated and the stop lights are interminable. It is with great relief
that I arrive in Kemer as darkness falls.
I have the address but the navi takes me to an entirely different street with the same name. After consultations with the guys on a late-working dustbin truck I work out that Karl-Heinz' house is actually in a small village called Kuzdere, a couple of kilometres outside town.
Unfortunately the street is not in my navi ( hence the earlier confusion) but it is only a small place so how hard can it be? Well, quite hard as it turns out. There are two markets and a cafe at the village square. Nobody there seems to know where the street is. One guy sends me off down a side road and I end up in a sheep and goat market. Lots of shit but no Germans.
Finally I hit on the brilliant plan of asking the kids. I mentioned before that wherever you stop you are immediately surrounded by curious kids. So employing my finely-honed international sign language - big, fat Germans gestures and brrrmm brrrmm noises - and releasing a couple of my precious store of Turkish words - motobisiklet and icki Alleymans - the kids pick up my meaning in a flash and are soon running down the road, shouting and pointing wildly, as they lead me straight to the gates of K-H house. Magic!
Charly & K-H leave first. I go for a final swim in the Med and then follow. We are heading for Karl-Heinz' house in Kemer, south of Antalya.
 |
| Classic coast road |
 |
| Tea shack on the coast road |
 |
| Crusader castle |
 |
| Sadly it is closed for renovations |
Many of the lights have a countdown timer showing how many seconds to the next change. Most Turkish drivers treat this as an opportunity to practice their Formula 1 starts, and many would incur time penalties for jumping it.
Those on the 2nd and 3rd rows of the grid start pipping their horns at Go-minus-2 in case the front runners have dozed off. Cheeky drivers who fancy their chances will try to underpass up the hard shoulder or right-turn-only inside lane. The basic rule is that if you have your front bumper more than a centimetre ahead of your rival the road is yours.
 |
| Riding the Turquoise Coast road |
 |
| Soon to be replaced by a new motorway |
It is bloody scary on a bike because they assume they can nip by in your lane, squeezing you across. The answer of course is to gun the motor and leave them behind, but this is like a red rag to a bull. When you slow for the next set of lights the game starts all over again.
There is thunder in the air. At one point I just have time to seek shelter in another of the brand-new service stations that have been built all along the new roads. I chat with the owner as I enjoy a few cups of his complimentary tea.
 |
| Tea and shelter from the storm |
I have the address but the navi takes me to an entirely different street with the same name. After consultations with the guys on a late-working dustbin truck I work out that Karl-Heinz' house is actually in a small village called Kuzdere, a couple of kilometres outside town.
Unfortunately the street is not in my navi ( hence the earlier confusion) but it is only a small place so how hard can it be? Well, quite hard as it turns out. There are two markets and a cafe at the village square. Nobody there seems to know where the street is. One guy sends me off down a side road and I end up in a sheep and goat market. Lots of shit but no Germans.
 |
| The view from the roof of Karl-Heinz' hoouse in Kemer |
Finally I hit on the brilliant plan of asking the kids. I mentioned before that wherever you stop you are immediately surrounded by curious kids. So employing my finely-honed international sign language - big, fat Germans gestures and brrrmm brrrmm noises - and releasing a couple of my precious store of Turkish words - motobisiklet and icki Alleymans - the kids pick up my meaning in a flash and are soon running down the road, shouting and pointing wildly, as they lead me straight to the gates of K-H house. Magic!
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