I don’t know how I’m going to make Hatay.  I feel broken.  The flat road I had been praying for has greeted me in return with a head wind so strong I can barely turn the pedals.  I feel embarrassed and wonder what people think as I cycle alongside them at the same speed as they walk.  I want to quit.  Why am I doing this?  None of it makes sense to me. None of it.  I want to give in.  I want to give in so badly.

I spot a hill in front of me.  I spot the cafe to the side of me.  An emergency stop at 5 mph follows with the knowledge that coffee is the universal healer for such a situation.  I order my coffee and sit down.  I lay my wind battered face on the table and in seconds I’m asleep.  I wake up half an hour later.  There is no coffee in front of me.  I ask for it again not sure if they had misunderstood me or if I was passed out when it was brought to me.  I agreed with myself it was definitely the first reason.  The coffee was downed tequila style.  I jumped up, got back on it and attacked the hill as fast as I could to get it over with.



There are days I cycle around the world that my body is suffering and the road rarely grants sympathy.  On these days I have only the capacity to concentrate all my thoughts on getting through the next 500 meters of cycling.  I repeat this process all day if need be.  You may notice the lack of photos for this day.  I simply hadn’t the energy to capture the moments.

At 4 pm a mountain ahead comes into my vision, the road winding back and forth across from the bottom to the top. There is a petrol station to the side of me.  For the second time that day I emergency stopped.  I asked to pitch my tent at the back of the petrol station.  A phone call is made whilst Lucy makes a new friend.


Permission is granted and I pitch the tent.  I then head straight to the beach with Lucy to loose the days difficulties through the joy of playing with my dog.


The petrol stations manager above Cemil Boz, opened up his office to me in the evening so I could write you a blog and was so kind as to deliver my dinner.  All the staff were great and went out of their way to make me feel safe and comfortable as a guest of their petrol station.

I got into my tent that night and for the first time of our 1400 mile adventure I didn’t need to tuck Lucy into her sleeping bag.  It was much warmer here than a few hundred miles up the coast. On what was the worst head wind day of my cycling existence I was also awarded sunburn.  I felt abused by the elements of nature.  I lay in a state of exhaustion feeling the pain of my sun burn wondering what the hill was going to be like tomorrow.  Would I manage it?  I didn’t know if I could do it.  Would I give up?  I was so close now to giving up. Would tomorrow be the end of our adventure?


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Love WBG & Lucy xxx