The ride to Knidos was even better. The rode again is high up in the mountains, but hardly has any traffic on it. There was about two people at Knidos. The ancient city ruins there have quite an authentic feel; there's been little or no restoration done, and it's not overrun with tourists. The busiest aspect of the area is the bay full of sailboats, sailed by rich people throughout the Mediterranean, stopping in beautiful blue coves for a break. What a life. It just reaffirmed that giving sailing a try is one of my life goals.
It turned out I had made a monumentally stupid error on my way to Knidos; I had left Datca with only a 1/3rd of a tank of gas. I don't know why I thought it was enough. I arrived at Knidos with just over a quarter of a tank. On the way back that quarter went fast. By fast I mean I was at the bottom of the empty line by nearly half way. Fast! The highway is basically straight up the first half and straight down the second half. If I made it halfway, I was golden. I was feathering the throttle that last bit of the hill, keeping it at 20km/h and praying that last drop of fuel brought me to the crest. It did. I crested the mountain and coasted nearly all the way, arriving in town on the last breaths of fuel. Lesson learned. Not that it would have been a dangerous scenario had I run out, just a massive pain in the ass.
Tomorrow I'll head back towards Marmaris, making a quick detour onto the Bozburun peninsula before trying to catch a bus to Fethyie. Of course, this time I'll have lots of gas...
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