Frost creeps up on me in the night and covers the inside of my tent. I get up-and-at-em at a reasonable hour but use the morning to dry out my gear in the sun. I have to wait for my boiled eggs to thaw until I can eat them. I try the first one frozen..not good - surprisingly close to what I expect from egg flavoured ice-cream. As I'm packing three fishermen come down to the river. They ask I wait a hour and then eat fish with them – I regretfully decline and get started with the days cycling. I'm Greeted at the road by a fair old headwind. Progress is slow. On two occasions I'm asked if I need any help, if I'm OK for food and water – I have the Turks down as a friendly bunch, but this is outrageous kindness. Never have I seen a passing fellow back home and gone to see if he/she requires any assistance, anything at all. Perhaps they can see through the beanie, beard and gortex to the lost child within!
As I ride the line between solitude and loneliness seems to thin. Perhaps this is amplified by the recent parting of company and the relative infrequency of towns/villages as I move further East. Not even a cay stop today!
I find a nice enough camp spot. Stars come out to greet me as a cook up some lentils. Once dark I hear wolves calling from the other side of the valley. Still not a sound I'm comfortable with but one I'm coming to associate wild camping with no doubt.
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