Uludag mountain, “The Shining”, thinking about Istanbul and a funny encounter with the Turkish bureaucracy (November 2022)

From Istanbul, I went south to the region of Uludag mountain. I had loved Uludag lemonade for some time in my life, but that was not the reason for me to go there. Although, if there had been a waterfall of that stuff, I think I would have given it a try.

After visiting Istanbul, I felt like taking some time to unwind in nature and go hiking. When I reached the highest point that I was allowed to go with Rosinante, it felt pretty strange because that area was mainly characterized by large hotels. These hotels were closed for the winter season and when I was there, there were hardly any other people around. But I found a nice place to stay, and the next morning, I drove Rosinante to one of the hotels to ask if I could park her there while I went hiking. I met a nice guy and we talked about living in the hotel, the differences between the summer and winter seasons, and so on. During the conversation, I couldn’t help but be reminded several times of Stephen King’s novel “The Shining.” Not that the guy seemed to be a big fan of smashing doors and people’s heads with an axe. It was just the scenery and his description of the boredom and loneliness he felt, especially during the summer when there were hardly any people around, that made me think of “The Shining.” I guessed.

I hiked up the Uludag mountain and the feeling of just going up and up was amazing and liberating. The layer of clouds separating heaven from earth looked like a fluffy but dense bed. Seeing that dense layer of clouds below and the bright sun above me reminded me of the saying “no matter what, there is always light, but sometimes you just can’t see it.” I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be under that cloud layer at that moment.

I reflected on what had been going on with me in Istanbul, and it was very interesting. By the end of my time in Istanbul, I had been feeling disoriented, confused, and kind of frustrated. I talked to a very good friend and she said that for her, cities are always about connecting to other people. And that made me think. At some point in Istanbul, I had felt like I didn’t belong there. Not in the city and not to the people there. I had talked with a lot of people, but I hadn’t really connected with them in a deep way. I had felt like a foreign body in an organism, like I wasn’t a part of the rest. I had let that make me feel uncertain about a lot of things and that had led me to think a lot. Being on that mountain helped me understand that I was disappointed about not connecting in a deep way to others during my time in Istanbul. Somehow my expectations had not been met and that had made me feel bad. I seemed to be unable to let go of these expectations and accepting that I could not let go as well. As I’m writing this, I feel different about all of that, but at that time, understanding this through thinking made me feel calm and positive. I felt like I understood myself again and that everything was perfectly fine.

When I got back to Rosinante, I felt hungry and tired, and I just wanted to find a place to stay for the night, eat, and relax. When I found a really cool spot, a car of the mountain rangers approached. I went to the two rangers and we talked via Google Translate about the beauty of the mountains and the wild animals. Then they said that I was not allowed to stay overnight in the national park. For me, that felt like it couldn’t be right because there were official camp sites. I asked if I could stay at that specific spot where we were standing at that moment, which was located in one of the official camps. They said I needed permission to do that. I asked if they could give me the permission, they made a phone call and told me that only managers could give me the required permission. So I asked where I could find a manager, and they said that both of them were managers. I felt a little confused about how this interaction went along and I felt my tiredness, but it was funny as well, and I was curious about where this may lead. I asked if they would give me the permission, and they made another phone call. After that, they said I would have to pay for staying overnight, and I told them I would be happy doing that. They asked me to pay via bank transfer. In Germany, a bank transfer takes hours or days to complete, so I was a bit confused and told them that I only had German bank accounts, and that an international transfer would take time. I asked if I could pay in cash, and then they asked me to follow their car to the headquarters, so we drove about thirty minutes to their headquarters. After getting there, I waited and got some tea. I explained to some police officers hanging around the waiting area that I wanted to stay for one night in the park and they told me several times that I would not be allowed to leave the car after sunset because there would be dangerous wild animals. After some time, the friendly managers brought me to the director’s office. I explained that I would like to stay one night at the spot I had found earlier. The director was friendly and approved of that. One of the managers gave me a form that I filled out, and then he asked me to pay via bank transfer again. I felt more tired, but I was still curious, and the whole process started to feel hilarious. I started to enter their bank account details into my Revolut app because I thought that one may be able to send the money way faster than my German bank. But they had no BIC code. Without the BIC code, transferring the money was not possible. The manager started to get frustrated and left me on the waiting couch again. I got tea, talked to some rangers and police officers, and waited. Some other rangers and police officers told me that I would not be allowed to leave my car after sunset again. And they told me that I was not allowed to go hiking without asking for permission. I felt reminded about the German bureaucracy. But there was one big difference: these Turkish guys were very friendly and helpful. After a pretty long time, the manager came back and took me back into the director’s office again. There I explained what I would like to do again: sleeping one night in Rosinante at that spot I had found. He filled out another form. I paid 25tl (about 2€) in cash, got a receipt, and after two hours, I was good to go. Easy.

Leaving Bulgaria, struggling with it, finding peace in the magical Strandzha National Park (October 2022)

After our wonderful hut tour, we arrived back in Varna. Artha started a yoga teacher training and I lived the city life in Rosinante right on the beautiful city beach.

Artha wanted to focus on the yoga teacher training and I could understand that very well. If I had been in her shoes, I thought, I’d have wanted to do the same thing. I lived on the city beach of Varna for a week and found a wonderful little beach that felt like a little natural paradise in the city life. Like a little oasis. I enjoyed living on the city beach and Artha and I met up occasionally. As I write this, it feels like at the time I was pushing far away any thoughts or feelings that might prevent me from enjoying that life. It feels like my love for Artha made me feel this way. I wanted to stay by her side. At least for my ego, that seemed to be the most important thing. And as I described in one of the previous posts, I lived that aspect of myself like anything else. I didn’t push Artha too hard, but I still told her how I felt. I never said it had to be how I felt, I just wanted to be pure and honest.

The yoga teacher training was intense and Artha felt like she couldn’t do it wholeheartedly, while at the same time wholeheartedly living the connection between us. She felt that our connection and the dynamic between us were of a very different kind of energy than this profound personal training. I absolutely felt the same way. Although I didn’t like it, we decided that it would be best for her to focus entirely on her training and for me to continue my nature and travel life. I didn’t like this. I felt that once we put some physical distance between us, it was far from certain that we’d see each other again. We both said that we’d like to see each other again when Artha finished her training, but deep down I doubted it. I just felt that she and I carried this brilliant impulse within us to live our respective lives as holistically as possible. Although my romantic love and ego wanted to stay by Artha’s side, I didn’t know if we’d meet again as I continued my journey. It just felt uncertain. Basically, it was like everything in life. Uncertain. Unstable. My ego just wouldn’t accept it. It was only soothed by the fact that the moment I left Varna, Artha and I were firmly convinced that we’d meet again in about two months.

From Varna, I drove to Strandzha National Park. On the way there, I felt torn. I still didn’t like putting distance between me and Artha, but at the same time it felt good and like I was following an inner urge to get going again. To go somewhere without a fixed destination. To go into nature. To stay as long as I want to. To do the things that feel brilliant to me. I remember riding Rosinante very fast down a dirt road that went through a forest, having a lot of fun. At one point, Rosinante even got a little air when she jumped over a small bump and the wheels squealed. Part of me felt free. When I thought about Artha, I felt like I was losing something.

The mountains in Strandzha are wonderful, magical and pure. I parked Rosinante right in the forest and spent all my days outside exploring nature. There were all sorts of things to explore: ancient ritual sites, shrines and all the marvelous and calm beauty of nature.

I felt wonderful, natural and free. And deep inside I suddenly realized that it’s like so many people say: when you let go of a loved one, you experience pure, deep, unconditional love. Not the romantic ego love that is craving for this and that and wants the person you love to make you happy. But the pure love that wants the person you love to be happy. That steps back and throws light into the blurry self-centered perspective of the romantic ego love. For me, there was no doubt that I wanted Artha to be happy and live what felt genuine to her in every moment. And for me, I wanted the same.