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We leave Metin Abi's house in a closed air and under light rain. Constructions on the roads continue. A new set and channel system is being built to surround the region. There are many bicycle tourists in the area. Maps, information, sketches from different times in the hands of all of them are standing on a turn where we can speak is true. As this point coincides with our snack break, we encounter a large number of teams. A few teams going back in different directions. So we eliminate these routes. We can finally find the right direction.
A very long pole erected in the city square marked the place where the water came. Waters that have reached an incredibly high point. He swept away everything in the area.
Constructions, confusion of signage, gravel on the ground, sometimes narrow road and sandy areas that are hard to pass do not miss my joy. I see plenty of construction buckets and I call out to my dad to stop them all. While I'm going through the road like this, ours miss asphalt roads.
After the expensive chicken we had in Switzerland, we were always careful about ready-to-eat. Today, when we see fried chicken at noon and see that the price is reasonable, we have a small feast.
What we will fill this time in the town we reached at noon is not our stomach, but our memory. We are wandering among the hundreds of years of bicycles in the bicycle museum as if we are in the realm of dreams. Here, a child over the age of 130 allows me to ride a bicycle.
Perhaps over 5 to 6 generations have grown this bike still looks very new to my eye. What's more, here are the first bicycle models made of wooden pedals, with huge front wheels and without chains. We are making a fast journey to the present day with the bike models put in order.
Although the model, material and technology of the bikes change, only one thing remains. “The feeling of freedom that the bike gives”
In the evening, the owner of the camp where we saw the Turkish passport says I'm Macedonian. He adds that Mustafa Kemal Atatürk reads in the monastery and he is from there. He's obviously proud of it. We are proud of the fact that Mustafa Kemal Atatürk is known thousands of kilometers away from our country.
At the campsite we reached early, my father took me to see the buses outside while my father set up our tent. A driver here must have seen the pleading of my gaze, allowing me to open the bus door and sit in the captain's seat. 2011 is a brand new bus. Maybe there are so many buttons and lights on the front of the plane.
You guess what I am and how much fun I am. So what happens next time I see a bus, how will my parents handle me?