Meet the Flintstones

After leaving Veysels we made our way to Olympus, a hippy village near to an ancient hill site called Chimerea where small fires burn on the hillside due to the natural gas that seeps out. Olympus is something of a hippy village, populated primarily by Austalians, New Zealanders and Annoying Americans who always have the habit of declaring who they dislike at the beginning of any conversation. It turns out people from Jersey are T*ss*rs according to Uncle Sam.

We went to see the flames after dark and after a 1km trek up the mountainside were greeted by a crowd of people crowded round what looked like a few camp fires. Although interesting, I didn't find the fires too spectactular, that was until I discovered it was possible to freak out the Japanese tourists by blowing out the fire they were taking a photo of, then re-lighting it with a lighter. Much more fun and exciting once singed hair becomes part of the outcome.

My puncture had returned as predicted so I stuck a new tube in only to find that it went down instantly since I must have pinched it putting it in. George was an expert and patched it in no time. The next morning as we were preparing to go I was sitting next to my loaded bike inspecting the potential route on the GPS when a curious hissing starts eminating from my bike. For some reason the tyre decided to deflate instantly and after inspection and sticking one of Morgan's tubes in we couldn't find a single hole on the tube. Mysterious.

We set off a bit later than expected to make a 600km ride to Goreme in Cappadocia. A long day. It was very hot on the coast and full of suicidal tourist buses who cruise along happilly at 100km/hr and maintain that speed when approaching any hazard, including cross roads and traffic lights. Morgan was almost taken out by one idiot who decided to overtake him then pull in half way through the manouvre.

After turing off the coast road to ascend the mountains things got much cooler and before long we were in the Anatolian plains with straight roads lasting up to 100kms. Not too exciting but interesting to ride on. We arrived in Goreme shortly after sunset and made our way to a hotel George has stayed in prior to his trip to Cape Town, 2 years ago. Amazingly they remembered him and we were given a luxurious room carved into the rock.

The region was once volcanic and people here carved their homes out of the curiously shaped volcanic clay. Sometimes I have the impression that I'm living in a cross between Bedrock and a Quarry. We discovered more about the region after taking an organised tour yesterday which worked out cheaper than us riding around since petrol in Turkey costs about ?1.50 a litre. We visited an underground city, used as a haven against the invading hoards, which descends through 8 levels to 57 metres below the ground into hard rock. There are also a great number of churches with frescos in the area as well as a stunningly surreal landscape.

On the Irananian Visa front I have been in direct contact with Persian Voyages who appear to be doing everything possible to let me get through. I have created an itinerary which involves crossing the country in 12 days (possible but unlikely) and may require a guide for the duration of my passage. The only problem being that a guide costs $200 a day but no one will meet me at the border. The good news is that I have asked to collect the visa at Erzerum meaning I don't have to waste time and money back tracking to Istanbul.

In the event of being unable to obtain a visa my backup plan is to go to Tashkent in Uzbekistan and fly from there to India, but I have high hopes to visit Persia Inshallah.