Near Haciqabul, a few very bored looking police officers were doing some traffic control. As expected they waved us over to "check" our documents because they had nothing else to do and needed a chance to display their authority and power by having us stop at the mere wave of their hand. Then the usual questions followed: where are you from; where are you going; are you tourists; are you married; do you have kids? What, no kids?!
The weirdest question of the above is " are you tourists?". It has puzzled us for months. Since Turkey, people have regularly asked us whether we were tourists as if the fact that we just said we are from Canada/England while displaying minimal language skills and foreign features did not make that clear enough in the first place. When we say we are a tourists, people naturally then ask where we are from but when we only say where we are from, they then also have to know whether we are tourists or not. What other options are there? Well I guess we could be spies, terrorists or very well camouflaged secret agents. And of course we would openly admit it ;-)
We took a short break at a gas station with an airconditioned cafe. Wonderful. One of the attendants took pitty on my wind-swept plastic flower bouquet on Bicyclette's handlebars and topped it up with some fresh roses and succulent flowers from the little garden outside.
THANK YOU VERY MUCH!
In the evening we pulled over next to a police station to take a break when a kind officer came out and started talking to us in French. Very unexpected. Before we could even consider asking he already invited us to camp here for the night. We were brought a snack and tea followed by dinner later. Wow! Even more unexpected! So kind. Also, the police station was right next to the sea. So beautiful.
MERÇI BEAUCOUP MONSIEUR!
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