End of a Harley roadtrip in Turkey: the last chapters, packed with discoveries
Roadtrip in Turkey on a Harley isn’t just about iconic sites—it’s about timing, heat management, and those quiet stretches between coastal coves and ancient stones where you suddenly feel alone in the world. In these final days, Agnès and her group ride from Kaş to the Aegean and up to Istanbul, mixing ferries, short scenic detours, and early-morning cultural hits to stay ahead of the crowds. The rhythm is simple: ride before the day burns, stop where the view (or the shade) is worth it, and keep the stage realistic so fatigue doesn’t steal the joy.
Leaving Kaş: Dalyan, Marmaris, and a well-earned pause in Selimiye
Back on the road from Kaş, the first break comes in Dalyan, lunch by the river facing the rock tombs carved into the cliffs. The scene is calm—until a soft-shell turtle surfaces nearby, a small emblem of this seaside town.
The descent toward Marmaris is now fast and smooth: a broad multi-lane road, weekend traffic, and the parade of “safari” jeeps full of sunburned holidaymakers. The contrast is immediate when the group reaches Selimiye, a small fishing village where French friends have settled. Three days of real rest follow—simple routines, evenings on a pontoon, and yachts gliding in to spend the night in the bay.
Boat days, turquoise bays, and short rides that matter
Selimiye is the kind of stop that resets you. Days drift between boat rides, picnics in small coves (sometimes with no one else around), and swims in clear water.
When the bikes come out, it’s for short loops on roads that feel made for a Harley: Mediterranean scrub, corniche curves, and bays opening like windows—toward Söğüt, and down to Sergi Limanı, a true edge-of-the-map spot with a jetty and a single restaurant.
Datça ferry to Bodrum: a smart shortcut before the heat hits
Leaving this haven is hard, but the next stage calls: Şirince. To avoid a longer ride and keep the day pleasant, the group takes a ferry from Datça—booked by phone the day before—to reach Bodrum faster. The crossing is calm, around 2 hours, in ideal temperatures, and the arrival is almost theatrical: moored gulets, the mosque nearby, and the bikes parked close to the waterfront.
In Bodrum, the seaside street is lined with stalls heavy on replicas and knock-offs. A fish lunch with a view of the castle restores energy before riding on alongside Lake Bafa (Bafa Gölü), where the temperature pushes toward 40°C. That’s when the ride becomes less about miles, more about managing yourself.
Heat rising, fatigue too: Priène, then the cobbles of Şirince
A stop at Priène is tempting—shade, terraces—but the ancient site waits. Once again, the reward is emptiness: almost no visitors. The theatre, the agora, and the Doric temple sit against the acropolis with a quiet authority that’s hard to describe.
The last kilometres to Şirince feel longer than they are. The village—Greek-style houses, carefully restored—forces a different kind of riding. A local guide on a scooter leads the way into narrow paved streets, until Agnès decides the cobblestones have become too big, the surface too broken, and the risk no longer worth it for her skills and her bike.
A small incident underlines the country’s atmosphere: Jean-Pierre realises his backpack is missing, likely left on a wall during a phone call. One hour later, it’s still there—money, cards, passport untouched. “Luckily, we’re in Turkey,” Agnès notes, half amused, half relieved.
Ephesus early: riding Turkey away from the tour groups
Dinner in Şirince is quiet. The streets are empty, the restaurant almost silent, and the server doesn’t speak English. After one bad experience on a cruise-ship day in Ephesus earlier in the trip, the plan is clear: arrive at opening time.
It works. Early at Ephesus, they stand alone in front of the Library of Celsus. For roughly 1h30, the site belongs to them—before the groups arrive and the place shifts into another gear.
Then the road again, under crushing heat. İzmir appears under a heavy yellow haze. Multi-lane traffic turns aggressive and exhausting, forcing a more defensive riding style: frequent fuel stops, water breaks, and a lunch stop at a roadside diner—shade first, food second.
The group says goodbye to Lydia and Bernard at the Assos/Çanakkale junction; they need to return to France earlier. Alone again, the remaining riders take a narrow coastal road—about 25 km tracking beaches—before a final stretch of deep gravel that feels unusually thick and unstable under a loaded touring bike.
Assos: sleeping by the water, living the Turkish way
Instead of staying in Behramkale (the hilltop village), they choose the waterfront in Assos. The descent to the harbour is steep and cobbled, with open views over the sea and the Greek island opposite. The reward is immediate: a small hotel facing the port, a swim in cooler water, a shower, and çay.
Dinner is served over the water, on the hotel’s pontoon—mezze chosen one by one, fish grilled, wine poured slowly. A chocolate waffle later, the day ends the way it should: a short walk on the jetty, then everyone collapses.
Early the next morning, they climb back up to the Assos site while it’s still deserted. The sky is slightly veiled, the wind strong, but the air is already warm. Later, at a recovery stop, Agnès hears an abnormal engine sound. A quick check reveals a problem that can end a trip fast on a big V-twin: oil level is very low. Topping up restores peace of mind—and the bike.
Reaching Istanbul by ferry: the city, restored and buzzing
To reach Istanbul, they take another ferry—around 2h30—landing close to the historic centre where a guesthouse has been booked. After a shower and a pause on the terrace (Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia visible in the distance), the evening turns into a final celebration: dinner beneath the Blue Mosque, music, and a dervish show.
Walking Divan Yolu, the atmosphere feels both familiar and transformed: restorations, new cafés, pastry shops, and lively streets. Lydia and Bernard have reached Thessaloniki safely, where they’ll hand their bike to the transporter and fly to Paris.
One full day in Istanbul: cisterns, bazaars, rooftops
The next day is entirely on foot. The Blue Mosque is crowded again, as expected. The Basilica Cistern (Yerebatan Sarnıcı) impresses with its lighting and columns. The Grand Bazaar is unmissable, as are the old hans where artisans still work.
They find the Büyük Valide Han and convince a guard to open rooftop access. From there, Istanbul spreads out: the Golden Horn, the Bosphorus, Galata Bridge. After visiting Süleymaniye Mosque, they drop down toward Galata Bridge and the Spice Bazaar. A grilled mackerel sandwich, cooked right in front of them, becomes one of those simple meals you remember as vividly as a monument.
It’s also the first day of Ramadan. By evening, Istanbulites prepare for a massive opening picnic on the lawns between the mosques—tables, stages, singers, speeches. The group returns to the hotel, tired from the walking, full of noise and life.
Final leg: Turkey to Greece, then Thessaloniki logistics
Last Turkish breakfast on the terrace. The exit from Istanbul is smoother than expected, quickly reaching the highway. A long, monotonous four-lane road in poor condition leads to the Greek border. Turkish exit is fast despite multiple checkpoints; the Greek side makes them wait a little.
Greece feels different immediately: highway miles, a quieter mood, riders so relaxed they nearly “sleep on the bike.” A local points them toward a good stop about 70 km from Thessaloniki. They land in Stavros, find a seaside hotel, swim, then eat grilled sardines and anchovies on the beach with a few glasses of ouzo.
The next morning, they reach the Thessaloniki suburbs and hand the bikes to the transporter for the return to France. The trip total reads 8,295 km on the odometer. In about 15 minutes, the bikes are strapped onto pallets. A taxi along the seafront takes them to the airport for a final iced coffee—one last local habit before reality returns. A delayed flight, a sprint for a connection in Rome, and Paris arrives as planned.
What to taste on a roadtrip in Turkey (Agnès’ list)
Turkey’s food is part of the ride: generous, varied, and deeply regional. Agnès’ recommendations:
- Dolma (stuffed vegetables)
- Kuzu şiş / Tavuk şiş (lamb or chicken skewers)
- Döner and İskender kebap (served with pide, yoghurt, tomato sauce, butter)
- Mantı (small dumplings, usually with yoghurt and spices)
- Börek in its many forms
- Lahmacun and pide (Turkish “pizza” spirit)
- Gözleme (filled griddle bread)
- Baklava and sütlaç (rice pudding)
- Çay served in tulip-shaped glasses
- Turkish coffee (from a cezve)
- Ayran (yoghurt drink)
- Rakı with fish
Planet Ride pro tip (one that saves trips)
On long, hot days, don’t “push to finish.” In practice, that means planning a real stop every time you refuel: water, a few minutes off the helmet, and a quick walk. Heat + dehydration + monotony is where mistakes happen—especially on multi-lane traffic around big cities.
Mini-FAQ
When is the best season for a roadtrip in Turkey on a big bike?
Late spring and early autumn are usually the most comfortable. Mid-summer can mean extreme heat on the Aegean inland stretches, so your daily riding window matters.
Do I need to book ferries in advance in Turkey?
On busy routes and weekends, it can help to book ahead (as Agnès did by phone from Datça). For flexibility, build a buffer into your day so a missed sailing doesn’t become a night ride.
How do you avoid the crowds at Ephesus?
Arrive at opening time. The first 60–90 minutes can feel like a different place before the tour groups roll in.
À savoir aujourd’hui
The riding logic in this story still holds: start early for major sites, manage heat aggressively, and keep stages realistic to protect focus. What deserves checking before departure in 2026: ferry timetables and booking methods, access rules and opening hours at archaeological sites, and any new riding or border formalities on the Turkey–Greece leg.
