Day 98 - August 18th: Brothers
Sultankoy to Tepicek: 31.4 miles / 2,829 total
An uneventful night at the Westport Istanbul roadside hotel led me into the penultimate day of this journey. Yesterday I discarded my second laundry soap bottle and the “holy sock,” lightening my pack slightly. One night remains on the road. Tomorrow, I’ll leave behind the shirt and shorts I’m wearing and use my final fresh pair for the run into Istanbul.
Today’s stage was 54 km, leaving 48 for the finish. The route hugged the Sea of Marmara, a body of water I hadn’t known before this trip—flat to rolling with the big mountains now behind me. Breakfast at the hotel wasn’t served until 8:30, so I left by six, wanting the cooler air and perhaps my last sunrise on the road.
A few kilometers in, I spotted a small café on an incline off the highway. Inside, a husband and wife smiled warmly though we couldn’t speak the same language. I ordered a noodle pie, a pretzel, and Turkish coffee. As I sat outside, a delivery van pulled up with the morning bread. The driver jumped out to unload but hadn’t set the parking brake. The van began rolling backwards toward the highway.
He shouted. I instantly understood and sprinted with him to the back, trying to stop it. The husband heard the cries, ran out, and seeing the van gaining speed, darted for the driver seat. But in that split second, I heard a sickening sound. I looked left and saw the delivery man had fallen—the van rolling over him, his head visible beneath.
I banged on the van and the husband pulled forward, freeing him, but the damage was done. The man lay twisted and bloody in the right lane of the highway, alive but in shock. The café owner called for an ambulance. I ran twenty yards ahead, signaling traffic away. Other men gathered, anxious but none trained. I typed into my translator: “Don’t move him.”
After twenty or thirty minutes, the ambulance arrived. Together we slid him onto a board and loaded him in. Before the doors closed, I met his eyes, hoping he would survive.
The men, including the café owner, looked at me with gratitude. I signaled that I had to leave and thanked them. They waved back from the heart. As I continued toward Istanbul, emotion overwhelmed me. If this trip has reinforced anything, it’s that kindness transcends borders. People everywhere are our brothers and sisters.
I finished at a roadside hotel, my body sore and mind drifting over 47 km. But I am certain tomorrow’s sunrise will bring fresh optimism and a final day worthy of these past 98.
The journey will end at Cankurtaran, at the very tip of Europe, where I’ll stand over the Bosporus looking toward Asia. Monica, Christina, and Jax will meet me around 3 p.m. at the Hagia Sophia Mosque. We’ll walk the last kilometer together. For the first time on this trip, I cannot wait for tomorrow.
Thanks for following along and the support.
David.
