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.

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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.

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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.

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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