![\"\"](\"\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/10\/P7164082.jpg\" "\\"Blue")
<\/a><\/p>\nWe\u00a0headed upstairs to enjoy another traditional Turkish breakfast, heavy on the olives, and then downstairs to hop the bicycles. Our destination? The Kazakh Embassy. We knew they would be open today, and we were damned well going to be there.<\/p>\n
We wheeled straight down to the shores of the Sea of Marmara, where we picked up the same bike path that we\u2019d ridden with Diane the day before. This time we took it in the opposite direction heading west toward the neighborhood of Florya, where the embassy was located.<\/p>\n
The wheel was long and very fast. The path was mostly deserted, so early was it in the morning, and we just let the Speed TRs eat road. Meanwhile, as we pedaled along, hundreds, perhaps thousands of boats bobbed just offshore, moored there waiting to gain access to the port, or for their owners to row back out to them.<\/p>\n
On we went, wheeling hard, as the sun began to burn the morning fog out of the atmosphere. At one point we took a wrong turn and ended up at a fully fenced off dead end, culminating in this sign, which we invite any Turkish speaking readers to translate in the comments.<\/p>\n Suddenly we realized that we were massively thirsty, likely due in no small part to the network effect of eating mostly salty olives for breakfast and then wheeling like maniacs for the last two hours. So we stopped at a small beach-side caf\u00e9, where a number of motorcycle cops were eating breakfast and purchased a few bottles of water.<\/p>\n A few tiny bottles of water each later, we climbed back on the Speed TRs and hit the road.<\/p>\n We kept on wheeling, finally reaching Florya. Now, we suddenly realized, we needed an ATM. The Kazakhs would certainly be charging us for these visas, and it was highly possible that the amount would be no chump change. We pulled over to a convenience store, but they were only offering to do some kind of expensive credit card forwarding maneuver, so we decided to move on to a real ATM. They were happy to give us directions, and even happier to pose for this portrait.<\/p>\n We decided then it might be most prudent to part ways, with Scott heading out to get in line and begin filling out any additional paperwork, while I headed out in search of money. The directions that the fellows from the convenience store gave us turned out to include taking a giant and terrifying highway, so I forsook that in favor of moving more intuitively. I began wheeling like a true maniac, very fast and sweating profusely, stopping from time to time to frantically ask pedestrians in sign language where I might find an ATM. Eventually, I began to zero in on a banking zone, as evidenced by a convergence in the responses to my sign language.<\/p>\n Next came a long, slow climb uphill and into the center of Florya. Finally, I began to see banks, and darted into the first one I saw with an ATM. I got out way more money that we could ever need, figuring we had plenty of time left in the land of the lira, and jumped back on the cycle, hoping I\u2019d catch Scott before he had been asked to pay them.<\/p>\n When I arrived back at the embassy, positively drenched in perspiration, Scott was just getting to the front of the line. I strode up to the window and began talking with the fellow.<\/p>\n He began asking me all kinds of questions:<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you want to do in Kazakhstan?\u201d\u00a0 \u201cHow long will you stay?\u201d \u201cWho do you know in the country?\u201d and many others. Once he was satisfied with my responses, he told me that I needed to write all the responses down on a piece of paper and address it to the consulate general. I explained that we actually already had a letter of intent, printed and signed, ready to go (you see, we had done our research).<\/p>\n This should give you, dear reader, an idea of the kind of back and forth, which continued on for a while between me and the fellow. The whole ordeal culminated in a somewhat reluctant acceptance of our documents. We were thrilled.<\/p>\n Then the documents were handed right back to us and our hearts fell. \u201cThat will be US$60.00 for both of you,\u201d the popped pink collar said. \u00a0I reached for my wallet, which contained much more than that in lira and tried to hand the documents back to him. This was great, much cheaper than we had expected. \u201cCan I pay you in cash?\u201d I asked, grinning.<\/p>\n No you must go to this bank and deposit the balance in this account. He then wrote \u201cT\u00fcrkiye \u0130\u015f Bankas\u0131\u201d on a piece of paper, and an account number, and then motioned toward the door. Bring the receipt back with you and we\u2019ll consider your application.<\/p>\n Fair Enough. \u201cWe\u2019ll ride there now,\u201d I explained, \u201cWill you be open when we return?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe,\u201d he replied. We close at noon.<\/p>\n And then we were off again, in a man vs. gravity race to get to the bank. We were raging on the cycles, just tearing back up that hill. We passed the bank I had taken money out of, then continued on past bank after bank. Where was this place?!<\/p>\n Then finally we saw it, at the end of the street, and Scott sprinted inside while I locked the bikes. He was already part way through the transaction by the time I came in to support him with capital.<\/p>\n While we were finishing the transaction, I convinced the security guard to refill my water bottle from their staff bubbler, and just as he returned with the bottle, Scott snatched the receipts and we were out of there.<\/p>\n Back on the road, we didn\u2019t let up. We had only 20 minutes, but we could so this.<\/p>\n We arrived back at the embassy at 11:53 and ran up pouring sweat and panting to find the door closed. They\u2019d knocked off early! In full knowledge that we were on our way back\u2026<\/p>\n With grumbling proving useless, we climbed back on the cycles. They of course opened back up at 3:00, but by then we\u2019d need to be on the other side of the city meeting with Red Bull.<\/p>\n We began to discuss other options as we rode back to the city. As we pedaled, we called Claudia, who was just waking up at Alps House. She spoke to me groggily, and I responded in a lighting fast stream of data, screaming it into the phone as I rode. She seemed overwhelmed. Fair enough. I hung up and we called Diane.<\/p>\n She was doing no better on the overwhelmed front, with the rental car issue still far from solved, and new confirmation just in that any car big enough for all of us and the cycles was actually illegal to rent in the country of Turkey. She had found a black market renter who was willing to rent us his friend’s car, but without insurance. Fair enough.<\/p>\n Part way through the wheel, we realized we were starving, but not wanting to waste time, as our meeting with Red Bull was already entering a zone of proximity in which we would almost certainly be late, we stopped at the quickest looking and nearest joint we could spot.<\/p>\n It was a place by the name of \u201cpark b\u00fcfe.\u201d \u00a0We had a meatball sandwich there that took me back to my experiences at Grinnell Middle School\u2019s Cafeteria and then hit the road, riding hard and fast, back toward home. When we got there, Diane was in a state of nervous delirium over the lack of rental car. \u201cYou know we\u2019re planning on leaving tomorrow, right? And we don\u2019t have a car, right?\u201d We nodded and I inadvertently looked at my watch. \u201cThis is not what I want to be doing! I\u2019m on vacation!\u201d Fair enough.<\/p>\n We tried to explain that it was okay, that we would take on this task, but just as soon as we\u2019d met with Red Bull. Then we rushed out the door, hoping Diane would heed our advice and cease her work on the rental car front and enjoy herself until we\u2019d returned to throw our efforts into the mix.<\/p>\n Then we were wheeling again, hard. And talking to our Red Bull contact, Bilgehan. He was cheerful, and seemed very forgiving of our admission that we would be tardy.<\/p>\n When we reached the ferry, we fumbled with the machine to produce two plastic tokens, and jumped on.<\/p>\n We then had about 15 minutes to relax, as the ferry made its way across the Marmara over to the \u201cAsian\u201d side of town. \u00a0The water was beautiful and blue, and we savored the moment of relative still in this frantic day.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/p>\n