LAKE UZUNGÖL

We were on the road bright and early after our night of cow pasture camping, and before long the highway hit the Black Sea. We paralleled the coast for most of the day. It was a smooth and scenic drive under sunny skies, cruising on a coastal highway through tunnels and towns, sandwiched between the mountains and the sea.

A little after midday we took a turn onto a windy road up towards Lake Uzungöl. Once we left the coast and entered the highlands the temperature began to drop and a sporadic but heavy cloud cover tumbled through skies above. The road took us into a region of Turkey known for its tea, and the valley we drove through was surrounded by precipitous terrain that held a patchwork of plantations. We arrived at Uzungöl, a little village wrapped around a mountain lake. A large white mosque sat at one end, with gift shops and restaurants lining the water on both sides. There was a noticeable amount of construction going on - guesthouses and little hotels sprouting up throughout the town. It was only mid-afternoon, but unlike our cow pasture camping debacle the night before, we thought we’d get an early start on finding a place to pitch the tent. We drove around the lake and up into the mountains, and within five minutes the steep and windy road turned to dirt.

With every hairpin turn and break in the trees the view became more dramatic, and the farther up we got, the more the temperature dropped. We came to a convergence of roads and spotted a cluster of houses spilling down an opposing mountainside. Johannes was on the search for some tea. We’d passed up the chance to buy some earlier, so we thought we’d try the village. There was no store, only a few dozen homes and a mosque. After parking the car, Johannes asked a couple of men where he could find some tea. When they found out he was German, they yelled down into the village for their friend Ali. It took a couple of minutes, but soon an old man came walking up the path. Ali was Turkish, but had lived in Germany for fifteen years. He’d retired from his job as a welder and had moved back to the village where he was born. 

Johannes’ idea was to buy to some tea to take with us, but instead we were invited into Ali’s home for an afternoon snack. After removing our shoes at the door, he took us into his living room. His home was simple, but nice. The room was dim with the curtains drawn, but the Turkish rugs and wood paneled walls gave the place a cozy feel. Under one of the windows mint leaves where spread out to dry in the afternoon light. It was still Ramadan, so our host couldn’t partake, but he gave us tea and cookies, and sat down to talk with Johannes. They chatted for a while, and Derick and I sat and enjoyed the tea. Evening was approaching, and we still needed to find a place to camp, so after an hour or so, we thanked Ali and left the village.

We retraced the road back to the intersection, and then continued driving up towards the clouds. The tree line broke as we approached another village, and after a bend in the road we smacked into some stunning views. The cloud cover was heavy overhead, and the sun was dropping over the mountaintops, shooting beams of twilight across the valley. We could see Lake Uzungöl below, surrounded by the red-roofed houses of the village. The mountainside was steep, but we spotted some flat ground around the bend, a few hundred yards downhill from the road.

It was an especially choice place to put up a tent, the views were amazing. And after eating what little food we had, we crawled into our tent for the night. The ominous cloud cover was free of rain, but once night fell the chill creeped up through the cold earth and left me with a restless night of sleep. We were awake before dawn and left the tent to welcome the sunrise. The sun brought some much needed warmth, and after packing up our gear, we hit the road for Georgia...