Rize

Getting to Rize was more trouble than I had imagined it would be. Really, it should have been the easiest leg of the trip. There's lots of traffic on the Black Sea highway, and Rize was the next big city going east. We hiked down the road to the highway. It took a little while for the first car to stop, but eventually one did. The man was going about two towns over, which would be good progress. I felt comfortable traveling through Trabzon toward Rize, because at some point I had memorized all 18 towns of Trabzon and their locations. You can do the same now, if you'd like.

District Map of Trabzon

Everything seemed to be going just fine for our first hitchhiking experience without other friends. I had noticed that the man was low on gas, but didn't say anything. Moments later he spoke and asked if we wouldn't mind stopping in the next town for gas. I told him it was no problem as we were not in any kind of hurry. A few minutes later, we entered the 2 kilometer Araklı Tunnel. I thought, this would a terrible place to run out of gas. About 500 meters into the tunnel, the car slowed down. The man shifted into lower and lower gears so the car wouldn't stall, but nothing happened. The car stopped dead in the dark 2-lane tunnel.

We all jumped out of the car asap. The tunnel was not straight; cars and trucks were coming around the bend and then changing into the far lane to avoid hitting our car from behind. I was trying to think. There was no place to which we could push the car. Pushing it backwards would be stupidly dangerous. Pushing it forwards would be a 1.5 kilometer nightmare of wishing not to get sandwiched in a collision. My thoughts were interrupted by a loud voice echoing from everywhere. The tunnel's safety systems were kicking in. It said something like, "It is dangerous and forbidden to stop in the tunnel. Please remove your vehicle from the tunnel." LED screens had changed to show that our lane was to be avoided. I was relieved to think the police might show up soon, but there seemed to be nothing we could do. The man started calling friends for help from his phone. He told us we ought not to wait around. We felt bad for him, but we thanked him, wished him luck and began walking down the noisy dark tunnel. I expected to hear a crash at any moment. About 200 meters later we saw something that made us stop. There was an emergency pullover spot large enough for two cars and equipped with a telephone. I looked back. The man's car was not in sight due to the curved nature of the tunnel. I looked at the girls. I didn't want to put anyone in danger, especially them. I felt badly enough about our predicament up to that point. On the other hand, I hated to think that the man's car might get hit at any moment. I set my backpack down at their feet and said I'd be right back. I ran as fast as I could back to the car. I said to the man as quickly as I could, in the best Turkish I could muster, that there was an emergency place up ahead and I would push his car.

I felt a bit like the character on the cover of some suspense novel. What would mine be called? "Hitchhiker's Guide to Tunnel Emergencies" maybe.


The man climbed in and put the car in neutral. I ran around the back and pushed with everything I had. I checked over my shoulder almost every second to make sure no one was coming. The car slowly picked up speed. I was standing near the right side of it in case I needed to jump to safety onto the sidewalk. A car passed, but it was in the other lane the whole time. The fear, darkness and especially the noise made be forget about everything outside of the tunnel. I was running as fast as I could when I threw my last push toward the car, extending my arms and trying not to fall over. The girls were in sight, the emergency spot was in sight. The man pulled into it and stopped the car. A few moments later I caught up, panting. I shook the man's hand again and thanked him again for his trouble. He thanked me in turn. The girls and I headed for the other end of the tunnel, a bit relieved.

The noise of the tunnel was really bothersome. When we finally reached the other side, I found that I was walking very quickly toward the light and the promise of serenity. We were happy when the second car that passed us stopped to give us a ride. It contained three boisterous young men. As always, we only spoke English to them at first. They didn't really know any. Once I determined that they were cool (and that they had a tank full of gas!), I relaxed and switched to Turkish. We shared jokes and stories. They laughed as I told them about the tunnel incident. One of them reacted to the story with a smile as he shook his head and exclaimed, "Şaka gibi!" Exactly. It was fun to recall what would make a good campfire story so soon after it happened. These adventures are an investment, payed for in time with the wide eyes of young relatives eagerly listening to the stories years later. It was nice to get a inkling of that feeling.

We made it to Rize and walked through the center of town.

Walking through Rize Merkez (Agnés)

I love Rize. Of all the places in Anatolian Turkey, Rize is the one where many of the people look like me, act most like me and have a sense of humor most like mine. When people in Turkey ask me where I'm from, I tell them, "Rize". I had been to Rize once before and I figured the first place to go, like with Trabzon, was to the seaside.

By the sea in Rize (Agnés)

The weather was a bit gloomy, which is typical of the region. We found a little waterfront cafe where drank tea and ate hot gözleme. As evening came, I made the arrangements for meeting our CouchSurfing host, Emre. 

Emre had a full house. In addition to his roommates, he was hosting two other couchsurfers already. We ate Ramadan dinner all together and had a wonderful time. The other couchsurfers were a French woman, Francoise, and a British Woman, Lisa. They were walkers. That is to say that they enjoyed walking great distances. They were getting ready to hike through the Kaçkar Mountains and into Georgia. What a delightful pair they were. I was glad that our hosts and the other couch-surfers spoke English for the sake of my companions and for mine to some extent.  The dinner filled us all up nicely and stayed up late, chatting and laughing together. We were such a crowd, that it was hard to fit everyone onto the couch.

In the morning we ate breakfast and said goodbye to Francoise and Lisa who headed off for the mountains. We also planned to go to the mountains, but not to the same exact location. We wished them luck. A little later, we also departed. The plan was to return in the evening and stay another night.

Walking toward the mountains (Ashley)

We hitchhiked out of the center of Rize, to Ardeşen. We walked south toward the mountains along the road. The first thing anyone notices about Rize is how green it is.

Strange architecture along the river (Agnés)

The second thing one notices about Rize is how much it rains. It started raining lightly and we were not having success finding a ride. Many of the vehicles that passed us didn't have room for three, but that was alright. We enjoyed being together. Finally after about 20 minutes, Ashley said "That's it. I'm letting down my hair." She released her blonde locks for the world to see. It might just have been coincidence but it wasn't 2 minutes before a car stopped. The pair sitting up front were students from İzmir. They were visiting their folks in Rize for the holidays. The driver's English was excellent and he explained that he and his friend were going to the Ayder plateau. Lovely; so were we.

We stopped for a few minutes in Çamlıhemşin. (Agnés)

Green Çamlıhemşin (Ashley)

I especially enjoyed being surrounded by lush green nature after the winter and spring in İstanbul. Contributing most greatly to the green ambiance were the tea fields, for which Rize is famous.

Tea fields (Ashley)

The scenery to take in along the way was endless. Ashley remarked at some point that she was not very impressed with Rize the city, but the nature made the visit very worthwhile.

Misty and green, the foothills of the Kaçkars, Rize (Ashley)

Hiking around in the foothills (Ashley)

Being there we were all filled with an urge to return someday with hiking gear and tents and just get lost in those mountains for a week. We finally made it to the pastures in touristic-yet-pleasant Ayder.

Ayder pastures (Ashley)

Another view of the pastures (Agnés)

After hiking around for a while, we decided to get a bite to eat before meeting our ride back to Çamlıhemşin with the guys from before. We strolled through the village and found a place to sit and grab a bite.

Ayder village (Agnés)

Mantı and pide (Agnés)

In the photo above, I'm chatting with an old woman while drinking some very fresh Turkish tea. There were two women who seemed in charge of the place and they were both a lot of fun to speak with. However, it was the old woman who really fascinated me. She spoke and looked Turkish yet her garb and her accent were not Turkish. It sounded more like a Laz accent, but it wasn't that either. I found out later that she was Hemşinli. She told me all about her childhood in the nearby villages, working in the high pastures in the summer and on the farms during the year. She told me about how the place has become a lot more touristy than it once was, which she did not prefer, but she also said that it's just the way it is. I liked her, and I liked her stories.

We met up with our ride and they took us back half way to Ardeşen. It was only as we got out of the car and stood around chatting, that I let onto them that I could understand Turkish. I explained that it's one of our hitchhiking safety precautions. The driver told me that if ever we had a problem in the area, his brother is the mayor of a nearby town, and we should just give a call. He invited us for dinner, but we already had plans to return to Rize where food and our things awaited us. We thanked him and started on the rest of our way back.

Our ride back had another nice surprise in store for us. When we got to Ardeşen, we walked to an intersection corner and waited for someone to stop. It couldn't have been two minutes before a friendly looking guy in a small white car pulled over and invited us to climb in. This man was clearly a local of Rize (and not just because of his license plate code). His look and his personality was what I call Lazoğlulaz. He was so cheery and down to earth. He said things like, "Look at my luck! I was just driving home after work like I always do, but this time I found a.... Canadian.. ... and an American... and a Catalan...! Look at us!" We chatted for a little bit. I told the girls I would explain more about the man later, because I just had to tell them about what a phenomenon of Rize he was. There was a pause in the conversation and I asked him how life was in Pazar-Rize, his hometown. "Life is süper!" he said. "Everyday anything can happen, but mostly it's the same. Pazar is full of friendly people and my family is there. You should come sometime and enjoy it."
 
The man offered to take us further than Pazar, but I insisted that he not go out of his way for us. He made me ensure him that we would have no trouble getting the rest of the way to Rize. When he pulled over to let us out, he said, "Let's take a picture!". A couple was walking near the seaside with some groceries they had bought at the market. "Dostum!" The man called out to the stranger with a very familiar and close form of the word 'friend' and proceeded to ask him if he'd be so kind as to take our picture.

I was sad to see this guy go. I had known him for 20 minutes, but scarcely have I met anyone with such a sense of humor and positive outlook on life. We waved as he climbed back into his car. Before he could pull out, someone else had stopped for us. I turned to Ashley and said something like, "Damn, you should just never put your hair up."

Back at Emre's, we helped in the kitchen and then went out to meet some new couch-surfing guests and escort them back to the apartment. They were a pair from Germany. That evening there was music and fun conversation. The German fellow got me into listening to old Selda Bağcan tunes, then a recent hobby of his. The next morning before we headed out, we were part of another couch photo.

We had made a plan for the day which was our craziest yet. We were going to hitchhike out of the country, into Georgia. We walked toward the highway. I was motivated by going to a new place I had never been before. And it turns out that the trip to Georgia would be filled with good fortune.