Türkiye had so far delivered many wonderful surprises as we travelled around it’s distant corners but as we were about to learn, not all surprises are wonderful.  However, even bad things can end well and to put a unique Türkish twist on it all, during the whole horrible process we can even make some fabulous new friends. 

We left our beach camp near Sinop and headed further westward along the coast, enduring some rare bad roads and enjoying many more fantastic coastal scenes. 

Lunch stops are always a raffle for us, some of them very special and memorable, others we try to forget.  But like campsites, they are part of the fun of travel and on this day we backed into a spot on a large storm retaining wall for a coastline lunch before moving towards the regional centre of Cide.

We had heard of this amazing secluded pebbly beach at the end of a steep dirt track which boasted amazing sunsets and sounded perfect for us.  We found the dirt track and drove down to the end of the beach.  I got out to survey the driving conditions, always conscious that Tramp weighs almost four tonnes and is not a ballerina.  Julie also got out and we mapped out how we would drive to a flat spot high on the beach for a stunner of a night.

Just to be certain, I put Tramp into 4Low, a very rare occasion, and moved slowly out onto the pebbly beach.  Within just a few metres Tramp began to spin and sink, the smooth stones and soft sand almost gobbling him up.

Tramp has a 6.2 litre V8 engine with almost 400 horsepower and very aggressive mud terrain tyres.  He was built for tough conditions but was absolutely no match for the task I had mistakenly given him.  After some swearing from me and nervous looks from Julie I got out the shovel and the sand matts and began the torturous job of digging Tramp out, placing the matts under his tyres, and trying again.  Sadly, each time we only inched a little further away from solid ground and deeper into the soft pebbly beach.  We were in deep poo.

As I was digging and Julie was worrying a Türkish grandfather, father and son came along to say hello and ask if we needed any help.  By this stage we had been digging for over an hour and the famous sunset was starting to form on the water’s horizon.  We said, yes, we can’t get out of this mess alone and would appreciate some help.  The father got on his phone, made some calls and eventually found a guy with a tractor who would come down after work and pull us out. 

After many calls and much passing of time when the sunset was long gone and it was pitch black, a massive huge front end loader tractor used for road-making arrived at the beach.  The family members had amazingly stayed with us for the three hours that we had to wait because they wanted to make sure we would be okay.  Their 14 year old son, Onur, spoke a bit of English and was the critical link between us and salvation. 

The tractor driver manoeuvred his beast of a tractor up close to Tramp, we hooked up his snatch strap (my strap broke on the first pull) and with him spinning his massive wheels and Tramp doing everything he could to help eventually we all made it to solid ground.  It was a rough as guts operation, nothing delicate here, but we made it.

Money changed hands and then we followed Onur and his family back to their apartment in Cide.  I was very worried that Tramp may have suffered from enduring such rough treatment but he seemed okay.  By this stage it was after 10pm and we were completely buggered but we settled into their lounge room, served a sweet Turkish desert and beautiful hot tea while we chatted to the various family members gathered around.  We were part celebrity, part oddity and part prize for Onur and the three generations around us.  And we couldn’t tell them enough how grateful and appreciative we were of what they did for us, how wonderful they were to persevere and see us through it all.  Their kindness and generosity was beyond words.

At Onur’s father’s direction we parked in a pullout zone near the beach and slept peacefully that night, our ordeal over, our pride damaged, our truck survived, our Turkish experience enhanced and our list of new friends extended. 

The next day we washed Tramp, changed his oil and filter, bought some gifts for Onur’s family and eventually left Cide, a town that initially we weren’t even planning to visit and had now become a memorable point of our entire Turkish experience. 

Our plan that day was to reach another beachside destination called Cakrazseyhier and to get there we followed more beautiful coastline before settling into a tight little campground opposite the sand where we watched families frolic in the baby waves and enjoyed a dinner in one of the numerous beachside restaurants. 

The next day we headed west, ever westward, until we came to one of the Black Sea’s most renowned destinations, the ancient Roman city of Amasra.  Amasra sits on a narrow spit of land with a beach on either side and an island connected by a Roman bridge.  

Of course a fortress covers it’s highest point, topping off this postcard-pretty place.  Julie and I had a great time walking across the bridge, exploring the fortress walls, shopping on it’s narrow walking streets and eating yummy pide in one of it’s little restaurants.  Amasra had a great not-too-over-the-top feel to it.

We could have lingered but it was finally time to put the Black Sea in the rear-view mirror and head inland.  Black Sea, thank you for the memories (even the bad ones!).

The thriving town of Safranbolu sits proudly up in the mountains of western Anatolia as the finest example in the world of 18^th and 19th century Ottoman architecture. We made our way there through tunnels and bridges and around countless mountain bends until this gem of a city came into view. 

This is a great city to explore on foot so we set off to wander through it’s streets, alleyways, covered bazaars and shops, admiring the unique style of buildings where the second floor juts out wider than the ground floor, there are beautiful wooden-framed windows and handsome doorways. 

And so goes the story that what could have been an absolutely disastrous experience for Julie and I – and Tramp – had a happy ending thanks to the warmth and unlimited help and support a random family gave us. Türkiye, you’ve done it again.