Day 8 - Kozan to Hatay

As I walk to the breakfast area in a zombified state after having slept for just three hours, I am greeted by Fr. Pierre who wishes me a happy feast - 15th August. I have forgotten which day of the week or date of the month. All I am focusing on are the days left till we get to Damascus, and I am sure I am not the only one.

Tonight, we will be sleeping in the last Turkish accommodation in the Hatay, which extends like a stumpy finger into Syria. An Arab enclave it has closer cultural links to the Arab world that with the Turkish hinterland. In fact these links go back to the seventh century AD, when Arab raiders began hacking at the edges of the collapsing Byzantine Empire.

Cycling over 200 kilometres, tackling a 13kilometre hill with inclines of 11% – 15% coupled with the lack of sleep from last night's adventure will not give anyone points for guessing that this will be yet another difficult day. Alan warns us to check out for any signs of tampering on the route signs, even though we have our route planned today, we do not want a repeat performance of yesterday's adventure.

The first 40 kilometres are fairly straight forward, with long straight roads that enable us to reach average speeds of 24km per hour. Lenny and Nicholas' attempt to draft to closely with each other ends up with Lenny having a close encounter with the tarmac, resulting in bruising and scratches and a hole in his helmet.

The first checkpoint is reached within an hour and a half from departure. Having our usual fare of jacket potatoes, bananas, Powerade and flap jacks I sit down for a couple of minutes and mull over the last few days. Everything seems to have passed in a blur. I look at the cyclists and backup around me having a laugh – of course that is very easy when Edward is around. I envy their carefree attitude, something I wish I had more of especially in these challenges. I am not saying that I am not enjoying the whole experience but for me failure is not an option. This self inflicted stress is not conducive to a carefree attitude and as much as I try to keep positive the pain in my ankle does not help. My thoughts are stopped when Carolyn comes up to me armed with biofreeze and bandages. Massaging my ankle and offering words of encouragement, I feel better. The fact that there are quite a few people out there who want me to succeed is heart-warming and gives me the push I need to carry on.

Our directions lead us to Iskenderun, which was founded by Alexander the Great to commemorate his victory over the Persians. Iskenderun became the main port for Aleppo from where trade routes fanned out to Persia and the Arabian peninsula. Cycling along the seaport we encounter the busiest main roads and chaotic driving so far. We do get some doubts as to whether we are on the right track due to lack of signs, so with each sign we saw Rob and I gave a sigh of relief.

The road south east from Iskenderun rises up in to the mountains, passing through the small hill-town of Belen. The road strains and curves through the Belen pass, which was of great strategic importance during Roman times.

Just before we start tackling the long 13 kilometre hill, we have a checkpoint. My ankle is now swollen again, and giving me a lot of grief. I ask Steph for a jab but to my dismay, she cannot find the vials in her bag, which got slightly disorganised when most of it's contents fell onto the van's floor. Not wanting to waste too much time, I take two Panadols and move off, agreeing with Steph that we would meet on the way and get a jab there.

Nigel, Lenny and Luke catchup with us and we start tackling the hill. Luke, seems to have found a surge of energy and disappears up the hill, whilst we remain cycling at a constant speed, trying to avoid a number of crazy drivers who give us strange looks. Well I guess, it is a tad crazy to cycle up such a hill so you cannot blame them for looking at us as if we were little green men on flying saucers.

Checkpoint Four offers us an amazing view. Whilst the others stop to take photos, Steph sticks a needle into my left butt cheek. Most welcome as I almost have to hop on one leg, the pain has become so intense. As a reward for being a brave girl, Hulya offers me some Turkish sweets made out of filo pastry, pistachios and honey. A good surge of energy!

The 15kilometre downhill following the steep hill up to Belen is welcome, and the boys, soon disappear amidst their shouts. The wind coming from the valley is so strong that I have to fight to keep straight. As I get to the bottom of the hill, I find Nigel, Robert and Lenny waiting for me. Since we have a flat road, and the winds are picking up speed we draft, but the wind coming from the side makes it almost impossible. We attempt to double draft, forming two lines side by side, however we never really practiced this technique, which ideally requires at least six cyclists. However it does give some respite.

As darkness falls we still have about 25 kilometres to go. We are all dead tired and most of us are in a foul mood, especially when we get to a junction with signs indicating a left turn to get to Hatay but no Lifecycle signs in the vicinity. Lenny flips. He phones Soner to ask for directions, the stress and exhaustion clearly showing in his responses. Soner tells us to keep on going straight and to follow the signs.

Lenny cycles determinedly at a pace that I cannot keep up with, and eventually cycles off leaving Robert, Nigel and myself to keep each other company. I am worried even because his back light is not working and the roads are not very well lit. There is nothing to do except keep on cycling, drafting trying to help each other. We finally make it to the stadium, relieved to find the backup team and other cyclists there waiting for us. Soner takes my bike and advises me that we have done good timings. We are happy to see that Lenny has arrived safely as well, although Nicholas, Tony, Simon and Julian are still behind us. Whilst Nicholas and Tony arrive shortly after us, Julian and Simon are still far behind, both of them not in the best of health but are being closely monitored by Steph the doctor.

Since, upon arrival, food is ready, I sit down to eat a hearty supper of pasta. Therese and her team work magic in the limited space and resources they have, combining proteins, carbs and enough quantities to give us the right amount of fuel into our systems. Second and third helpings are normal occurrences and Therese is concerned when we don't ask for more! - That rarely happens in reality.

Almost everything in Lifecycle becomes an automatic ritual. Preparing my belongings and bed for the night, charging my phone and GPS, sorting out my gear for the next day. Having done all that I proceed to my next ritual – physiotherapy. Removing the strapping my from my knees is a painful process even because the day before I inadvertently removed a small layer of skin, which has left an open wound on my thigh. Massaging my thighs, knees and ankle is a painful yet soothing process, that keeps us going from day to day.

Exhausted, I prepare to go to bed but not before having gobbled a pistachio ice cream that Lenny bought me after a quick visit to a store across the road! Walking into the gym shortly after my treat, I am greeted by the sounds of varying symphonies emanating from various crevices of already sleeping bodies.

Carolina and I have one quick look at each other, silently grab our inflatable mattresses and seek refuge in an unused shower, closing the door and shutting out all unpleasant and unwelcome sounds. Our usual banter is reduced to a quick good night.

We are both closer to Damascus.

Day 7 - Avanos to Kozan

The route card only gave directions for the first 15.5kms, showing us the way out of Avanos and Urgup. The rest would be announced later. We were warned that the total day distance would be around 240km so it would be a very challenging day. Alan advises us to watch out for the Lifecycle Route signs since it was not possible to trace the route during the pre-visit. Alan explains that there were two route choices, the one chosen during the pre-visit was dangerous and definitely not an option so the other route had to be taken but due to time constraints it was not possible to trace it on a route card. I am still upset about the time lost in the previous day due to the multitude of punctures, but there is no use crying over split milk. I just have to do my best to keep up the rhythm and increase my pace.

As we leave the accommodation we head towards Goreme taking the highway. In the distance we could see numerous hot air balloons manoeuvring their way, through the early morning mist, over the treetops and fairy chimneys. I felt a pang of jealousy. The people enjoying this scenic flight were on holiday relaxing. Focusing on the straight road ahead we arrive in Goreme. In the early hours of the morning it seemed less chaotic than it was in the afternoon the day before.

Early in the day, with our leg muscles barely warmed up we are faced with a killer winding road that takes us up to Urgup. The inclines, registered on my GPS, go up to 18%. I feel my leg muscles working on overdrive, almost bursting with the sheer exertion. In front of me Nigel is asking, in a loud voice, why is he doing this. I guess most of us had that feeling as we toil up the long, winding road.

My ankle starts to bother me from the start of the day. The undulating roads are not helping at all. Following the signs, our eyes open to make sure we don't miss any, my ankle becomes increasingly swollen, ever pedal movement pure torture. I do not want to stop and waste time but I cannot keep on going. Robert phones Steph and asks her to come and check my ankle. In the meantime, he gently removes my shoe and starts massaging my ankle which has become the size of a tennis ball. I cannot put any weight on it, so I cannot really do much. Edward soon drives up, and Carolyn puts on deep freeze and bandages it. Steph is in another car further in front so we have to catch up with her. The boys, who have stayed with me so far, reluctantly leave, with Robert and Tony staying behind to ensure that I don't cycle alone.

Slowly we progress. Each pedal stroke I take is taking me closer to Steph and hopefully some painkillers. The journey, although not long, seems interminable and when finally we catchup with them, I am in tears. Steph explains that my tendons are badly swollen due to the technique I am using to try to avoid the pain in my knees. I forget my aversion to needles and I beg her to give me a painkiller so that I can proceed. She is reluctant, but I remind her that she is a Lifecyclist so she should know how important it is for me to continue. She gives in but warns me that if the inflammation gets worse she will make me stop, without any ifs or buts. My heart sinks as I know this will be the case. I know it is for my own good, as damaging the tendons could mean me giving up horse riding and cycling in future.

Whilst Steph is preparing to give me the painkiller, Space is hovering around. Full of concern towards my wellbeing, he is in the way and is unceremoniously turned away by Steph who asks him to give us some privacy as she gives me a jab in my bottom. I am very upset about it all and I silently pray that this will work and the pain won't increase forcing me to stop short of my target, after months of preparation and sacrifice.

Tony, Robert and I set off again. They are determined not to leave me on my own, especially now that I am at my lowest ebb. The road ahead is tougher than what we have experienced so far. A long, never ending, gravelly, off-road track. A car passes by at full speed ahead, causing gravel to spray all over the place, hitting Robert's arm in the process. A small gash but nonetheless painful and irritating. We keep on going and catchup with Lenny, Luke, Nigel, Nicholas and Ian. We group up, giving moral support to each other especially when we have to tackle a long and cruel hill. To this day I don't know how I managed to keep with the guys, not giving up irrespective of the pain, which although had subsided was still there nagging me all the time. I guess it is the adrenaline working on overdrive.

Finally reaching the top of the hill, we find a treacherous downhill path, which nearly sees Nicholas flying off the road and down the hill. Nonetheless we all enjoy a bit of respite from the cruel hills. Reaching a clearing we sense that something is wrong. We seem to have reached a dead end. An old man suddenly appears from nowhere, shouting, motioning with his hand as though he was shooting at something. Lenny, quickly nicknames him the Hobbit, who seems to take a liking to Nigel. Irrespective of the language barrier they seem to reach an understanding. It is a bit of comic relief for us, but we realise that things are not right. There aren't any signs in sight. The last one we saw indicated the direction we took but the road seems to lead to nowhere. None of us want this to be true as it would mean having to go back up the downhill we so happily flew down.

Nicholas suggests we phone the backup team but we realise that none of us have mobile reception. We are practically cut off from everyone. Robert suggests that we start heading back, the backup van was close by and seeing that they too were following the signs we were follwoing we would be able to meet up with them and get directions.

Following Robert's suggestion we start cycling back, to our relief we see Mario and his team driving by. We all realise that we are all lost, and that Simon and Julian are still somewhere behind us. Frustration starts to set in. It is already getting late and we still have another 80 kilometres to cycle. Perhaps I am the only one that silently, welcomes this break as my ankle is still swollen and the pain killer's effect is slightly waning. I don't know if I can go much further if the pain increases and I know that if it does Steph will definitely make me stop.

In the meantime we are joined by Edward, Carolyn and Steph who immediately proceed to feed us, giving us some fresh cheese and bread they bought on the way. What a treat! Such a refreshing change from bananas and flapjacks. Like piranhas on a feeding frenzy we devoured the sandwiches, leaving only a few crumbs as evidence of their existence.

In the meantime, Mario is attempting to reach Alan, but network coverage is unavailable. Seeing that we cannot do much he decides to take us up to a location where there is network coverage. It is obvious that the signs have been tampered with and since we have no route card showing the way we are all in the same situation – LOST!

Mario decides to start moving us to a better location, one where hopefully we can get network coverage. The situation is tense. Tired cyclists not knowing what will happen. Concerned back up team entrusted with our safety. Mario doesn't have much options. He deposits us on a mountain road, which is the only possible road and heads back to where the bikes were left with Carolyn, Steph, Edward and Space. The latter being responsible to pack the bikes in the other van.

In the meantime, as is expected in mountainous areas, as night starts to fall the temperature lowers. In an attempt to keep warm, all huddle together, keeping in mind that cycling the rest of the kilometres is a posisblilty. During this time we work on a plan of action to ensure that our participation is not cut short because of this adventure. A few cyclists start preparing a not so friendly speech to deliver to Alan whilst others try to keep sprits up by saying jokes and singing songs. We don't know what is going to happen but we all know that we are in for a long night.

As we grow colder, the more our enthusiasm to keep on cycling wanes. Pitch black darkness envelopes us as we wait for the rest of the backup team. Although we are no longer in a valley, we have little signal and although we managed to get through to Shirley the line drops almost immediately, never to be picked up again. I don't know for how long we waited for Mario and Edward to reach us but it felt like forever. By that time the effect of the painkillers had gone completely. For the very first time since this adventure started I actually contemplated of giving up. I had no energy left to cycle more. I was exhausted, cold and hungry.

Freezing up on the mountain

Mario, having managed to get through to Alan, informs us that we are to cycle down the mountain road to where Alan is waiting for us. It seems that we were actually quite close to the final checkpoint. We all resist to these instructions but in reality there is not much we can do. There is no room in the vans to takes us and the bikes and the truck, carrying our luggages, is already miles away in our accommodation It will take much longer if we had to wait for it.

Slowly, we put back our helmets on and start cycling down, Mario driving in front and leading the way whilst Edward, at the back lights up the road with the van's headlamps. Going downhill was not a problem but we soon find another uphill. Gingerly I pedal, each movement giving me spasms of pain in my ankle. I feebly attempt to complain about cycling in these conditions, after having spent hours in the cold, but in reality there is not much we can do. Mario urges me to get into the van. I refuse. First of all I am part of a team and I am not going to go into the van whilst my team mates are walking up the hill and secondly I don't want to risk being kicked off the trip because I stopped cycling. Space rushes next to me, almost begging to take my bike up the hill, stubbornly I proceed. I barely take two steps when I hear a stern voice from behind - “Maria, stop being stupid and get into the van NOW!” Steph's stern voice catches me unaware, and automatically and meekly, I give my bike to Space and get into the van.

I burst out crying. Partly due to exhaustion, partly due to pain and partly due to the stress of the whole day. Mario reassures me that I won't be forced to stop. The circumstances were beyond everyone's control and now the focus is to get everyone safely to the accommodation. Shortly after we catch up with Alan and Shirley. The bikes are removed from the vans once again to be organised in a better manner and stored in such away that we all fit in the vans. I remain in the van, now half asleep having taken an anti-inflammatory pill to ease off the inflammation in my ankle. I hear a commotion outside. It seems that Space is concerned with the safety of a watermelon that has been on the journey with us whilst Mario, quite rightly so, is interested in getting everyone out of that area. But deep down, it did offer some comic relief to all.

Space and the infamous watermelon!

Again I fall asleep so I am not fully aware of what happened. All I know is that we are all squashed, like sardines, in the vans and start heading home. On the way Alan's van has a flat tyre, and although Robert does his utmost to change the wheel the bolts are so tightly screwed that no one is able to unscrew them leaving Alan and Shirley to wait for the guys from the rental company to fetch them.

At 2am, or thereabouts we get to the accommodation where we find Therese, Jennifer and Steph awake, waiting for us. The rest of the cyclists are fast asleep. I am amazed at Therese's team's capacity to provide us with a warm meal even in the middle of the night.

I quickly make a phone call home after finding a multitude of messages from a concerned mum and Conrad. It is not like me not to answer any message so their concern is obvious. Although I play down the day's events to my mum, I break down when I speak to Conrad. An accumulation of all the stress and fatigue and the thought of having another four days of intense cycling combined with my injuries.

Our instructions are to wake up at 7am. We will still be cycling the planned route the day after even if we wouldn't have had a good night's sleep. I don't stop to think about it much, all I am thinking about is the inflatable mattress that I have put in a quiet corner underneath the gymnasium's stairs, falling asleep as soon as I hit my head on the pillow.