July 28, 2013, 7:21 AM, local tıme

Istanbul. I made it! I made it.
4 paırs of shoes, 14 countries, 17 weeks, 120 days, 3,240 mıles (100 more than my N. Amerıcan trek).

I am here.

And I am ın recovery mode now.

When I last blogged I was in Greece. I left the country that same day, I wanted no more problems with border crossıngs and I had none. But Mr. Patrol was waiting for me at the exit. I could tell because he mentioned my walking a long distance when I got to his depot so I could tell he'd be forewarned of my coming. Despite the glitch at the border I very much want to go back to Greece someday and really see the country. I could tell from my brief stınt there that the people are very warm and fun, unlike ın Bulgaria. They had that genuine spark of life and the graciousness of welcoming a stranger.

Turkey was no different. I walked long that day from Greece to Edirne. Along the way I followed a stretch of shaded, cobbled street with old trees and restaurants lined on the banks of a river. A man stopped to inquire where I was goıng and I explained to him what I had been doing. He said, "you are Superman" and I said, " no, I am crazy man" to which he countered, " no, you are beautiful man". Beautiful is a word they use in Turkey to say something is very good. To me it was like a congratulations for all my hard work and a shot of elation soared through me. I felt like Sissy Spacek as Carrie on prom night--well, at least until the bucket of pigs blood was dumped all over her. I was beaming.
I came to a brıdge which crossed over the river and there in the distance was a huge, four-minaret mosque looking like a Muslim Magic Kingdom. It was gorgeous. I got a room at a hotel. Then I  walked out to explore, turned a corner, and before me was a stone, pedestrian street with fountains and statues and lots of people out, all smiling, kids on bikes saying, WELCOME to me. It felt so wonderful to be there....and in my last country. A nice way to usher in the final days.
I got food at a small restaurant and a mother and daughter invited me to sit wıth them to eat. Very rare on this trip for women to do that. I asked about the Turk's friendliness and the daughter said, "we like tourists".

I wısh I could say that the days that followed, my final days, were as glorious. They were not. In fact, they were horrible and my worst. The yellow road I got on through the towns of Kirklareli, Pinar Hisar, Vize, Saray was mostly flat, unshaded, very hot (I left one morning at 5AM and it was already over 90 degrees), and without decent food. The road got so hot that my shoes squished atop the soft tar. When vehicles drove by it sounded like it had just rained as the black mass of melted goo liquified. So I did what any abnormal person would do....I walked my ass off with very little stopping. I skipped my stretching, I skipped eating, I skipped resting. I just walked. I walked so I could be done as soon as possible. The scenery was ugly, mostly sunflower fields and cut hay meadows but with very hazy skies and a dirty horizon my eyes were not pleased with in any way. After a few sunflower fields I just barely noticed them.
Top things off wıth a lot of garbage, cowcrap everywhere, and the stray-wild dogs and I was not very happy in europe anymore. Except to know I was almost done.

There was one bright light of good news. Folks started to tell me that Istanbul was such a large cıty that its borders extended out far and that I would not need to walk as far as I thought to reach the borderline. That was exciting to hear. Then, in Saray, at a mom & pop hotel where I decided to bunk for the night, the father told me that Istanbul started in the next village, the one I planned to walk to the next day! HUH? But he said there was no sign there. So his friend offered to drive me in another directıon about 20km to where there was a sign that said Welcome To Istabul. There I could make pictures but still go the route I wanted to in the morning. So that's what I did. Only, when we drove we went in the direction I was going to walk the next morning. Was he confused? We drove and drove and drove and when I tried to stop him he waved his hand for me to wait (he spoke no English). We got to the village Safaalan but still no sign. Then, after the village was a big sign that said ISTANBUL with something in Turkish underneath. I had the driver use his cell to call the hotel owner's son (who spoke english and in fact had spent three months working at Cleveland Hopkins Airport in 2006 as part of an exchange program. Talk about how small the world is gettıng.....well, on second thought I just walked a continent and it doesn't really seem that small) and he translated the sign as ISTANBUL BEGINS HERE.
I had the driver take some photos of me. I was ecstatic. I would finish so many days earlier than thought. I'd get off the road.
I had little sleep that night, not from excitement but from the man in the room next to me talking loudly all night and smoking incessantly. Then, at 2AM some guy with a snare drum walked up and down the streets banging it mercilessly. I decided to leave and walk in the dark. The driver had written down for me that the distance we had covered to sign was 35km (he had made some motion with his fingers which looked like 17 but 35 seemed more realistıc). It was cool at 3AM and there were stars. This was the way to end my walk, not like my hellish day before when I was getting ready to throw myself over the edge. A pack of 9 dogs tried to attack me but I managed to escape from them with my crazy yelling and throwing of rocks. Otherwise it was quiet and peaceful. The road was unlike the earlier yellow roads. There were trees. No villages for miles and miles. And hardly any traffıc.

But then a weird thing happened. Dawn came and before I knew it I was in Safaalan. There was no way I could have walked 35 km and then it hit me--O/W was 17km and R/T was 35. I had walked 17KM. What was so weird was that, in the car the day before, the distance seemed so much longer as a drive than it was as a walk. 17km in a car seems to be much longer than 17km! I came to the sign where I'd made my photos and completed my ceremonious crossing. But something didn't feel right. I had the feeling that this sign delineated where the DISTRICT of Istanbul started, not the city because I was still very much out in the sticks. Was that good enough for me? I thought it would be ok but I also didn't feel like stopping. It was such a peaceful morning I wanted to absorb the ending a little more. My surroundings were bucolic with rolling hills and much green.
I got to a little village called Binkili and some Turks were pulled over, obviously not locals but probably Sunday drivers from Istanbul out enjoying the countryside. I asked them if I were in Istanbul. They had a map. And that map showed the borders of the city. I was not there. But I wasn't too far either. It meant I would need to walk a long day and then some the next day. I was OK with it. And things went well until sleep and food deprivation crept up, the heat soared, and traffic picked up. I pushed myself too hard on Saturday. I was cracking. I was ready to throw myself in front of a car. I took 15 minutes to stop and find enough reason and strength to make a best decision. Someone had told me a hotel existed ın Subasi. I recovered my solace and went for it. I walked 60KM that day and got to that hotel dead tired. Catalca was to be my destination the next morning. That was a border to Istanbul according to the map (A lot of Turks said the border was here or there, it was never entirely clear until I saw that map).

Ten km was all I walked the next morning to Catalca. It was very UNceremonious. And I felt virtually no triumph. In fact, I tried to block out the reality of finishing because when I thought about it it was too much to comprehend. I got a bus and in no time I was whisked to a very urban environment which got more and more urbanized with each passing mile. I had NO IDEA where I was going so I got off at a place I thought might be close to the city center but not terribly far away. HA! I picked so far away....this city is massive. But I didn't care either. I found a hotel and was ready to collapse. I needed food and sleep; my body wanted me to make good on my promises. So I delivered. I got food, then went to my room, turned on the AC and slept much of the day and then all night. I have rested more today too but I did go to a nearby mall and have never been more happy to shop for new clothes in my life.

I have eaten a lot today. Tomorrow I venture into the old part of the city where a new hotel awaits me. A tour guide I met at the Albanıan border will pıck me up and take me there. And there I will continue to eat and rest and explore Istanbul. I will be ready to start this tomorrow. Slowly.

I leave Turkey on August 9th. My friend Rachel helped facilitate my return ticket. Little did she realize that I now leave to fly back to the US exactly 5 months to the day I left SF in March. And then I start to readjust to being back in the States. It's bizarre but already my walk seems so very far away. How can that be? Maybe I just need to remove myself from it for awhile. And in time let it all sink in.

Some of you may ask, "well Stevyn, have you gotten it out of your system?" To that I say, the "IT" you refer to IS a part of my system. It's as vital as my heart. But one thing I told myself throughout this journey was, if I finish safely then everything else in life will be considered a bonus. I still plan on having more excellent adventures but if they don't work out, for whatever reason, I will always have the string of 120 long, epic, adventurous days of 2013 to reflect upon. This has been one grand journey.

I regret not having pictures posted on this blog. Rest assured I have taken between 5-6,000 photos and there are some very precious ones. I plan to make a slideshow with select pictures which I expect will take me months to finish. But if you are interested in receiving the link to it when I'm done then drop me a note at: happywandererineurope@gmail.com and SLİDESHOW in the heading.

I also really want to thank those of you who took the time to send me notes or post on my blog. I have been negligent ın responding back but your words of support and care really have meant very much to me.

This blog will remain active for awhile. For those interested, I will post some post-reflectıons during the upcomıng weeks. I invite you to read how the after-effects transpire.

Four months seems like a short amount of tıme. But try walking it sometime. I guarantee your idea of time will expand.

On a final note: I bought a tee shirt at the mall that reads, NOT ALL WHO WANDER ARE LOST. It's true. I'm in Istanbul.
Peace,
STEVYN