Even with the air conditioning on full blast the room was cold. The stoker resorted to sleeping fully clothed. It was a port in a storm and, like an uncomfortable mooring, we were pleased to be underway.

After only a couple of kms we came to the Saklikent Gorge itself. All around was the detritus of the summer tourist trade, most of it in a very dodgy state of repair. The gorge itself is very impressive. We risked walking along the rotten looking board walk cantilevered over the fast flowing river. The sides of the gorge cut by the river rise almost sheer to a great height. The guide book says the gorge is 18km long but only climbers venture much beyond the first 200 metres.

Back on the little used country road the sun finally got high enough for us to take off our warm wear. The east facing mountains put this side of the valley in shade till mid morning in winter. As we went on it felt very remote. The road is only just above the flood plain and we saw few people. Those living here show more sense than many in the UK and tend to live above flood levels.

In the villages and hamlets we passed through we saw exactly what tourists look for and seldom experience. We saw women lace and carpet making. They were also collecting and carrying firewood and water. Occasionally we saw a donkey being led carrying all manner of things. The cafés were busy with men sitting around chatting and sometimes playing board games. Men's work seems very much preferable to women's work here.

When we emerged onto the main road we immediately saw a sign to Xanthos. There was also a jandarma control point. We have passed through several of these. Gun toting men in fatigues demand our passport and so far have let us pass. We have asked several people why they do this and have been unable to get an answer. This kind of thing has been unacceptable anywhere in Europe since Franco and even then Picasso had the right idea. We don't like it and on this occasion went behind them following the road to the ruins. They did not shout after us as we half expected.

Xanthos was once the capital and grandest city in the area. We took a leisurely walk seeing the Roman theatre, pillar tombs and Byzantine church. A good deal of it is in the British Museum, the site having been looted in 1842. As usual there were few other visitors and we made tea and had picnic lunch on the café terrace. We offered the few men sitting on the terrace a little of our lunch as tradition and good manners demands here. It was a gesture they appreciated and they each took a little as a token.

Deviating about 4km from the route we reached Patara. It is a strange place especially in winter. Despite having a superb beach mass tourism has been resisted. The strange thing is that while there is a thriving summer trade it now feels downmarket and beach bumish.

We had a job to find somewhere comfortable to stay. We also paid way over the odds for a nice meal in the only café which was open. It is almost impossible to get a price before ordering and overcharging is bad news here. It breaks down the trust we have in the friendly Turks we have met along the way, most of whom charge a proper price.

Day 58 Friday 25th January Patara to Kas

We returned on the meandering and more or less flat lane to the main road. We were then lulled into a false sense of security by a gentle descent into Yesilköy. The village is a working place full of joiners shops and metal workers. There were many people about and it was a good place to get supplies.

As we left the village the road went steeply up. There were then a series of very steep hairpin bends. We were reduced to bottom gear for much of the time. It is the first time this trip that we have climbed in bottom gear in the morning when we have new legs. It is actually quicker to walk but not pushing the loaded tandem.

We emerged at the top of the hill just as the mosque was calling midday prayers. Being Friday quite a few men were going into the mosque. We went on towards Mecca as best we could. The road skirted the deserted package holiday town of Kalkan before descending to the coast.

The coast road which we followed for the rest of the day is superb and there was very little traffic. The sea was blue and dotted with rocky islands and headlands. We had the wind and the sun on our backs. The road is cut into the steep hillside and there was only one significant climb. We have no idea why it was built but it looks new. Whatever the reason we were very grateful.

We, or should we say the stoker, are very wary now when looking for accommodation. The first requirement is warmth. If a building is cold it can take our whole stay to make it habitable. The next thing is hot water and the third wifi. On this occasion she tried an 'otel' in the main street and inadvertently started bargaining.

The otel was not quite up to our standards and as she walked away a third was cut off the room rate. As it was we moved into the comfortable Ates Pansiyon even though it was more expensive.

As we arrived at the pension we were approached by a gentleman of the press. People tend to note our arrival in small towns and the word had got round. He took photos of us and interviewed us with the manager of the pension interpreting. The stoker was not amused that the reporter wanted all the management's employment details but not hers. Still, the Echo is much the same. The reporter said he would email publication details but often things like that don't happen so we are not holding our breaths.

Road up Turkish style

Day 59 Saturday 26th January day off at Kas