While examining the map one morning, I discovered a large, white stain exactly in the middle of Turkey. It appeared to me to be the second-largest salt lake in the world, after the Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia. I discovered that because of this lake's size, it doesn't get more than half a meter deep, and after a hot summer it is totally dried out by August/September.

I had to cycle around the lake because there is only one area where the road gets close to it on the northeast side. There is an entry point with a hotel, restaurant, and some tourist shops that sell all kinds of salt-based products. Tour buses and cars stop here to take a break and people go for a walk on the salt beach. About 5 km north of this point I dragged my bike through a barley field so I could cycle on the beach without being disturbed by (other) tourists. After I struggled through some meters of sticky mud I was standing on a

huge plain as white as snow. Depending on the direction of the sun, the surface has a pink glow to it and the reflection of the sun was overwhelmingly bright. The beach consists of sharp crystals on which you’d hurt yourself if you walked with bare feet. The scenery was otherworldly, nothing like any place I have been before. With a knife I carved a bit of salt out to take with me as a memento. Cycling on a flat beach with nothing around felt completely liberating.

For the bike this was probably not too great an experience. Salt was in every part. I hosed it off at a gas station, but a day later there was already rust on the chain. I gave it the full oil treatment and hoped the rust problems would be over in the coming weeks.