Today was a day of thoughts. The road was straight and the wind was strong, and my thoughts were on Australia and my youth. I had studied the war-poet Wilfred Owen at school, and I felt a lump in my throat as I approached the almost sacred Anzac territory of the Dardanelles and the Gallipoli peninsula. My family was here 100 years ago, as were the families of the lovely people around me that have welcomed me to their country. War is such a horrible thing.
On the road to Çanakkale
Rugged up like a mummy I went out into the cold – which wasn’t that cold. I peeled off the layers and basked in the sun (briefly). And who was there, but the 2 French girls James and I met in Croatia before entering Bosnia Herzegovina?
I meet the French cyclists again
It was a day of clouds and sun, with beams of light piercing the clouds to make for beautiful vistas.
Sunset in the military museum.
Sunset in Çanakkale
And, just after having installed myself in the Anzac Hotel (an appropriate place for my stay), I stumbled across 3 heavily laden bikes with 3 bike tourers – a group of friends from France cycling to Iran in the winter (!). We ended up having a lovely evening sharing our left-wing radical views and discovering some common interests and activities of touring cyclists. Follow them on their blog: http://bikingtotehran.tumblr.com
Touring cyclist get-together
arctic-cycler.com 
I wrote a report on Wilfred Owen in about Year 7 – I was in America, not Australia, at that time. I think we had write about a poet and I liked the cover of the book. I haven’t thought of him in years but I hold some fondness for him. With my own ride to Europe coming up next year I just might have to revisit him. Hope that wind is at your back.
Hey Elizabeth. Great to hear from you!
I have just come back from a tour of the Gallipoli peninsula. A beautiful and moving experience. Well worth the visit!
I don’t know if my own tour will get to that particular corner of the world, but if I’m even within cooee I’ll pedal madly to get there.