The stunning sunset hues of Cappadocia. The bizarre shapes carved by water through the soft volcanic tuff. Despite the proximity of mass tourism the area is still well used for growing grapes and stone fruit.
Once again the hairs on my body bristled, raising my sleeping bag a millimetre in the air. Pig hunters, I shivered. Men wielding guns. Men who know the paths of the wild pigs and the exact hour they'll be passing through.
How many wonderful, fleeting glimpses of beauty have you seen from the window of a bus or train? Ever wished you could just stop, breathe in the outside air, examine a rock, a tree, hold a flower in your hand? With cycling comes the freedom to stop and connect. For a moment I became still, stunned by the intricacy of the limestone karst.