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My best travel storyApril – May 2021

Turkey 2021

Forty days, one backpack and not a single hotel. I walked the Lycian Way alone, then hitchhiked across the whole country to Mount Ararat, and back home.

It was hard, I was always dirty, and my feet hurt every single day. It’s still the adventure I’m proudest of. Here it is, day by day.

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Me, smiling, leaning on my trekking poles, in running shoes
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Days40
On foot≈440 km
On the trail19 days
Turkish roads≈4,700 km
Hotel nights0
Pack25 kg
on footroadflightRoute · 0%

The route

Eight chapters, from Lviv to Ararat and home.

The Lycian Way runs along the Turkish coast between Antalya and Fethiye. I walked it from east to west and finished on day 19: about 400 kilometres on foot, minus one stretch I skipped by road. With the time left on my ticket, I hitchhiked across the country to the Iranian border and back.

Sunrise seen from a plane

Prologue · Apr 20–21

Lviv to Antalya

A message in a chat, a partner with a positive covid test, a night on the airport floor, and 25 km across Antalya on foot.
Yura resting above a forested valley

Days 01–03 · Apr 22–24

Into the Taurus

Three days with Yura, new sandals, and the first blisters.
Two hikers walking along a pebble beach

Days 04–08 · Apr 25–29

Canyons and eternal flames

A “free” swim through Göynük Canyon, a group from Kyiv, the top of Tahtalı, flames from the rock above Çıralı, and a goodbye on the way to Gelidonya.
Lycian stone sarcophagi on a hill above the sea

Days 09–15 · Apr 30–May 6

The dry middle

My diary from day nine, a barrel of oily water, a night on a carpet, Kekova, Kaş, and the one stretch I skipped.
The Lycian Way arch between pines

Days 16–19 · May 7–10

To the arch

A river crossed with the pack on my head, shepherd dogs, Butterfly Valley, and the arch I walked straight past.
Andrii on the white terraces of Pamukkale

May 10–18

Hitchhiking east

Pamukkale, a night in a Konya park with a visit from the police, Cappadocia, and a truck driver heading for Doğubayazıt.
The snowy summit of Mount Ararat

May 19–20

Ararat

Running shoes, no crampons, “you can die”, a freezing night at 3,500 m, and a turn-back in fog close to 5,000 m.
Sunset over the plain below Mount Ararat

May 21–30

The long way home

Van, the Syrian border, Gaziantep, Mersin, İzmir, a ferry across the Sea of Marmara, and home to Zhytomyr.

Why I wrote this

I remember the feelings. I’d forgotten the views.

It’s been five years. I still remember the emotions, the stories and the people, but most of the views are gone. When I look at these photos now, I think: it really was that beautiful, and I’d forgotten.

This is still the best adventure of my life, and the one I’m proudest of. It was hard. I was always dirty, always sweating, and my feet smelled for weeks afterwards. But I took the risk and went, alone, without good conditions or a real plan.

There’s one sentence I still remember from that time:

Life is pain. The way is to keep moving until the pain becomes ordinary, and then go on to the next level.

It’s exactly how the blisters worked. Every morning the first steps hurt the most, and a few kilometres later I barely noticed them. That’s how you grow: you don’t wait for the pain to stop, you walk until it’s normal, and then you take on something harder.

I wrote it down so I don’t forget, and to remind myself that it’s worth taking the risk.

go anyway.