Syria Aleppo (Haleb)

November 12th.


We have been in Aleppo a day now. We crossed the border yesterday. The journey from Goreme took slightly longer than we anticipated: it was supposed to take twelve hours, but it ended up taking nigh on twenty-one. Suffice to say we were a little knackered by the time arrived. The border crossing was pretty smooth, if not a little mundane. We got chatting to some people on the bus, one guy was from Hamas and have never practised speaking English before to anyone. He was very excited that we could understand what he was saying. We had an interesting chat, which mainly involved lots of jocular gesticulation. He also bought us some Syrian coffee, which was like snorting a line of Nescafe. I don't think I slept properly for the next three days. We got ripped on the tickets we bought and instead of getting a direct bus to Aleppo we ended up being dumped in some border town and being charged extra for the final leg. We also got chatting to a really lovely woman called Rachel. She is working as a volunteer on a project in Damascus. She has decided to spend a couple of days exploring Aleppo with us.


Aleppo is a fantastic city. I love the Middle East and I love Arabic countries and culture. Predominately because it is so far removed from my own. It is so exotic and different. Everything is so busy and vibrant on the city's streets: Cars race everywhere. Taxis, trucks, and Services (minibus taxis) chase around motorbikes and carts beeping furiously. Cyclists dart in and out of the mayhem on the roads. Entire families ride by on motorbikes. Pedestrians wander through all of this carrying trays of tea and food, and selling wares. It is mesmorising mayhem.


Aleppo - known as Haleb in Arabic - vies with Damascus for being one of the oldest continually inhabited cities in the world. Whilst Damascus was the holy city, a beautiful oasis in the desert; Aleppo was a place of commerce. Trade always encourages settlements and there are records of civilisation existing here as far back as the 18th century BC. Unfortunately the Hittite Empire's invasion into northern Syria threw this cities history into obscurity from the 16-17th Century BC. We know it was known during the reign of Alexander the great, and afterward, as Beroia. The Byzantines and Romans used this city as a trade route, and it later played a cruxical role in the Crusade wars when those lovely, berserker, maniacs ransacked most of the Middle East on what I can only see as the worst case of Brits/French/Spanish/Italians etc... etc.. abroad in known history. It remained, albeit slightly more fortified, a flourishing and vibrant city of trade for the next 800 years. Many European traders established themselves here during the 17th century, however trade fell into decline with the advent of the industrial revolution as alternative trade routes developed and production methods changed. It still has one of the most magnificent Souqs in the Middle-East. This certainly one of the most fascinating sites to visit - and it is still fully functional and regularly used by the denizens of Aleppo.

Goreme and Cappadocia

Wednesday 7th November - Sunday 11th

Cappadocia is like nowhere else I have ever been on earth. It was used in parts of the Star-Wars film: on Tattoine. The desert houses that look like fairy mushrooms. It is basically a series of valleys were volcanic rock has formed and over centuries the loose sediment around it has eroded to leave wonderful and surreal blobs, valleys, of rock. It is like some, weird, volcanic LSD-fuelled, geographic topiary. Everywhere around you are the most amazing formations with windows and doors protruding from them. You could almost be forgiven for thinking yourself in Bedrock and expecting to see Fred Flinstone yabbadabba'doing passed you on his way home to kiss Wilma.

Indeed the place we elected to stay in was called none other than the Flintstones hostel. We got some reasonable rooms and the shower was hot and had pressure - something you rarely get when travelling.

We spent a fantastic four days here. I really cannot say enough about this place. Some people do not like it so much, but I absolutely adored it. Maybe it was because it was out of season and it was not overrun by tourists. Whatever the reason I found it charming and infinitely beguiling. Also we bumped into Brian and Jetta again and spent a lovely three days hanging out with them. We did an amazing dawn balloon ride over Cappodocia, one which culminated in us crashing into a tree in a graveyard; all for no extra cost!

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=20902&l=d044d&id=513701387

We hiked through pigeon valley and got completely lost. We visited the underground cities north of Goreme and spent a morning wandering and wondering around tiny passages where the Turkish troglodytes spent there winters hanging out in. I kept an eye out for the seven dwarves but I just kept bumping into over-bearing tour guides. We drank some fantastic local wine and lived on a staple diet of koftes. Unfortunately the owner of the hostel seemed to be suffering from manic depression with the onset of winter. He spent all of his time wrapped in a bundle of blankets in a graceful, woe-begone, state of melancholy. I think he would have made a great hamlet. This made breakfast a little tricky most mornings. It took him three days to rustle up a proper Turkish breakfast. Marcus finally convinced me to eat an omelette. That was pretty tough going, I have to say. I have included a picture of a traditional Turkish breakfast. Marcus, unfortunately, does not come as standard. For this you must pay extra.

After three days we had to say good-bye to Jetta and Brian as they left for Istanbul. They are heading to warmer climates - to Goa, in India. Maybe we will see them there yet.

The final day we spent mountain biking all around Goreme. We cycled through the Red Valley, and the Rose Valley - up to the villages in the north region. It was a great bit of exercise and despite falling off a lot, we had a great time, it was a fine, clear, crisp, day and the sights we saw were pretty spectacular: I have included the link here to the pictures in Facebook.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=20904&l=8d88b&id=513701387

So this is my last blog of Turkey - our month here has come to a close. I have really fallen in love with this amazing country. We have barely explored one third of it. I would go east and north someday: to the Karsadeniz and to Mt Ararat. But it is getting cold now, so we have a new destination. Up until now this has mainly been an extended holiday - following the tourist routes. Tonight we strike south to Antackya and then to the border and into Syria. Our next adventure. This is where the fun really begins.

the rest of Turkey - quick Synopsis

Monday 29th October - Tuesday 8th November

I am afraid I am going to have fly through the rest of Turkey. Unfortunately time is flying by and, although I want to record this adventure as much in as much detail as possible I am going to have to move along with some alacrity: Internet cafes are slow and few and far between and I don't wish to spend all my life in them.

We spent the next day after the hike taking a break by doing... mmmmm some more hiking. This time in the Saklik gorge. A beautiful mountain gorge, with fresh, and very icy, water flowing constantly through it. The hike was stunning though, and there are pictures on face-book here:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=20357&l=e5fe6&id=513701387

We went as far as we could. At several points we had to strip down to our shorts and wade to freezing water with our bags held over our heads. I had to tie my shoes around my neck as I forgot to bring sandals. It was nearly as cold as tough guy - happy memories you bad boys ;-)

Our Dolmus broke down on the way home and the driver abandoned the vehicle and ran off. Our finished that evening and I lost my cash card, my camera and boots got wet. When I got back to the hotel they had put some strange guy we didn't know in our room. I went to bed blowing chunks; and no, chunks was not the name of the other guy in our room.

The next four days we spent on a Turkish yacht: a Guleg. This was a gorgeous, wooden, 17 meter, twin-masted, schooner complete with cabins, table areas, chill out cushions, and a hammock.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=20358&l=d3d83&id=513701387

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=20360&l=24521&id=513701387

It was absolute heaven. I did a similar cruise with my friend, Rom, four years ago. That trip was coming the opposite way. There were sixteen people on the boat and it was like some deranged episode of Benny Hill for the most of it; and one hell of a party. This time it was much more chilled out. In the end there were only six of us on the boat. Thorsen, Fatima, Marcus, myself and a couple called Peter and Carolina. Peter was from South Africa and Carolina from Poland. They both live in Germany. We all got on very well and soon became fast friends. We spent an idyllic four days, swimming, snorkeling, sunbathing, drinking Efes, and playing Tavla and cards.

We finished up in Finike where the Guleg was going into dry dock for the winter. We took a minibus to Olympos where we stayed in the tree-house hostel - Kadirs. This place was burned down in a fire last year. Rom, Charlotte: it is still there!! and it has now got new bungalows built. It is not quite as a amazing as it once was, but it is getting there!

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=20829&l=e2984&id=513701387

We managed to get the price down as we were the last group there. We all had a chilled out evening and Peter taught us to play bridge. The next morning we had to do, what I fear is going to be all too common in future, say good-bye to people you really like: Peter and Carolina in this case; Which was very sad. Thorsen and I spent the morning playing volleyball. Then we all went down through the Necropolis to the beach and swam.

Unfortunately Fatima and Thorsen were leaving for Goreme that evening. We said good-bye in the hope that we would see them as they came back - we planned to spend some time in Olympos soaking up the sun and rock-climbing - after they left things were more than a little quiet. I really love the Kadir tree-house hostel. Dinner and breakfast is self-service, and dinner is eaten around a camp-fire. The vibe is fantastic! Unfortunately it was end of season so most places were really dead. But still so cool. I thoroughly recommend it.

The next morning we decided to do a day's rock-climbing. We booked the day with a bunch of long-haired, tatto'd, funky dudes. I really liked them. We got chatting to them and found they were professional rock-climbers. Apparently Turkey has some of the best rock-climbing areas in the world. The instructor was trying to explain to me why. I think he said that it is because of the type of rocks. He gave us two or three courses to climb first off, they were pretty easy. All the routes were grade six. But these were 6-- and they were a doddle. I think we came a across as being pretty smug because the next course he gave us was a 6++. It nearly killed me. Marcus did the sane thing and gave up after 10mins. I stubbornly tried to do the whole thing by sheer will power; my technique had long gone out the window. I nearly made it - maybe 2 metres from the top, however my strength had long gone. I am in pretty good shape but after that my arms felt like I had had the late, great, Pavrotti sitting on them for four hours.

We took a break then and then tried some smaller routes. However by this point we were quite knackered and although I completed the third one, the fourth one found me spinning off several times and hugging a thorny tree. It was most bodacious though.

One unfortunate thing was, Olympos does not have any ATMs. Which meant we ran out of money pretty sharpish. Then the next morning the heavens opened and we made an executive decision to get the f*ck out of Olympos. We scraped together enough money to get to Antalya and then headed north - to Goreme and to the unearthly valley of Cappodicia.

Hiking along the Lycian way and the bee incident day two

Sunday 28th October

Got up this morning feeling a bit stiff but ready to rock. Our host gave us a taste of a real Turkish breakfast. Everything was fresh and delicious. We stuffed our faces and then set off to hike the next leg: 8 kilometres Ferraliye. It was a fantastic morning and we made pretty good time. [oh a couple of things I wanted to add here that I forgot earlier on. Selcuk is all famous for camel wrestling! I was gutted I missed that one. Also I finally got Marcus to agree to a Turkish shave in Pumakkale! He loved it. I had another one as well. They are so cheap and really worth the money. The guy in the barber this time did burn our ear hair but used a special kind of cotton bud thing; wait till I see that barber in Instanbul again! Turkish men take a lot of pride in their appearance. When I was in the Barbers in Pumakkale. I guy spent 30mins having his moustache trimmed]

We hiked throughout the morning chatting occasionally and picking fresh fruit [pomegranates grow everywhere here]. We acquired a guide in the form of a small dog whom Fatima aptly named Lycia. She followed us all the way to Farraleye. We made it in pretty good time. I think just over two and a half hours. We scrounged some bread and fruit from a pension in Ferraleye and we then decided to push on to the next village for lunch. We stopped around 2pm and ate ravenously.

Just after we started hiking we came across and apiary. This had been a fascination for Thorsen as his father is a bee-keeper and he, himself, also does apiculture in his spare time. Thorsen was dying to have a look at the bees in action. Fatima, Marus, and I were exchanging furtive glances and not looking half as enthusiastic. However Thorsen was adamant that it was fine and strode off the the path down to the apiary where the guys - wearing the big white protective bee-suits - were working away. They immediately started waving at us and shouting. Fatima kindly interpreted this as them saying - go back it is dangerous. However we, and by we I mean Thorsen, we undaunted. He got Fatima to explain he was interested in seeing the honey being harvested and they took him off into the tent to have a look and also get some honey. I began looking through my pack for a recepticle for some honey when the first bee attacked me - It tried to fly into my hair. I leaped up and tried to swat it, then another one attacked. Fatima and Marcus thought this was hilarious - then one flew into Fatima's hair [just a little note hear. Bees hate dark things. They attack them all immediately when they are angry. Like most creatures they are usually pretty territorial and narky when they are hungry... like now]. Fatima has very long and thick, dark hair. She started screaming and ran for the road. I tried to grab my rucksack but two more attacked me. So I ran for it as well, Marcus was not far behind. Marcus has blond hair, so he was alright for the moment. Fatima now had two in her hair, that were buzzing and hopping mad. She kept screaming - 'get them out. Get them out' and then shaking her head so much I couldn't see where they were. I couldn't stop laughing it was so funny. We managed to get them both out but they were pretty unhappy bees. They then attacked Marcus - he ran off down the road. I was in stitches by this point; then they attacked me again. This wasn't so funny. This carried on for about 5 mins (luckily not one of us was stung, even when I went back for my rucksack and was chased again). We had just made it up the road when Thorsen came sprinting out of the tent, clutching a water bottle full of honey being chased by a number of bees. He made it up the path to where I was. He had been stung twice. I managed to pick one the stings out of his eyebrow with some tweezers. We were walking up to join Fatima and Marcus - who had retreated much further up - when the bees attacked one last time. My lingering memory of that day is one of Marcus running up the road, trying to swat bees with a 5 feet hiking stick he had found earlier that day; he looked like Mr Magoo. The honey was lovely by the way. Thanks, Thorsen! :-)

After that we had a quiet afternoon's hike along the last leg. Fatima had stopped wanting to kill Thorsen after about 30 mins and we were all laughing about our antics. We hiked under the shadow of Baba Dagi - an immense mountain that paragliders use as a base to leap from. We stopped for tea at villager's house about 5 kilometres from the finish. It is wonderful travelling with Fatima because she is very lovely, social, and outgoing and can translate between us and Turkish people we meet. We all sat and had a disjointed chat and enjoyed their hospitality.

It was getting pretty late by this point so we got our skates on and hiked for Ovacek intending to reach it by nightfall. We just about made it. The trek down, past Oludinez, was - for me anyways - the most beautiful part yet. The view was simply stunning. We made it back just after nightfall. Knackered but happy. We got a Dolmus back to Fethiye and crashed out.

Hiking along the Lycian way day one

Saturday October 27th



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We dragged our arses out of bed early in order to get going early - only to find all the staff got up half an hour later than said on their notice board. A bit of an argument ensued and from that a frosty breakfast with no cereal. I ate my cheese and honey in silence - Thorsen has never got his head around the fact that I eat my goat's cheese with bread and honey - which I suppose is fair enough. Although I feel the same way about eggs.









We had a lot of fun trying to get a dolmus to the nearest town - Eret I think it was - but we finally managed it. We got a taxi from there to Alinca. Alinca turned out to be not a town at all - rather about 5 houses in all with Bayram's house (meaning headman) at the top. There were about 8 other hikers at this place; over the next couple of days we came to know this amount of people as a multitude.








The Times recommends the Lycian way as one of the 10 best hiking routes in the world. You can see why. It is simply incredible. It follows the azure waters of the South Aegean around the verdurous, twisting, Turkish coastline. Cutting through valleys. under huge overpasses, across rock-falls, along shepherd's trails, winding down cliff-faces. Through farms, olive orchards, streams, along side mountains. These paths are over three thousand years old in some places. We hiked for most of the afternoon - we had started late due to the above-mentioned circumstances - so we did not get as far as a intended destination the first day. Instead we made it to the beautiful beach village of Kabak.



It took us quite a while from first spotting it to get to the beach. On the way we met a right old funboy. He was about 70 and had most of his teeth missing. I didn't need Fatima's help to translate his words as I could tell he was as mad as a hatter. He was standing by the road selling grapes. All around us were wild grape trees. Still we bought a bunch each from him. He then tried to sell us pomegranates. All around us were... you get the picture. By the time we got to the beach the sun was setting so we all had an evening swim to freshen up and then had dinner from our packs.



We climbed up the ridge and found a lovely tree house hostel to stay in called the full-moon. It had a bunch of tree house bungalows and was really peaceful. There were massive spiders running around the main porch area (Pem you would have loved them) but the poor things kept on being eaten by the tribe of cats that prowled around there. We met a cool elderly German couple who were also hiking. They told us in detail about the Lycian way and showed us the book by Kate Clow. We fell into bed exhausted.

Fethiye

Friday October 26th

mmmmm... sunshine. Waking up to to breakfast on a balcony overlooking a marina in Turkish Autumn sunshine is most definitely where it is, as Marcus would say, is where it is at.

We had decided to do two things whilst we were here: Firstly book ourselves a trip on a Guleg from here to Olympos - more on that later, and secondly, Fatima and Thorsen had read up on doing some hiking along the Lycian way. The Lycian way is an ancient network of trails and paths that stretch some 310 miles - all along the coastline of southern Turkey, under the shadow of the Tekke mountain ranges, running from north of Fethiye all the way round to Antayla. Kate Clow has written an excellent book on these ancient routes, so I have been told. We planned to do the hike from Alinca to Ovacek. around 30k all in. We figured we could do it in two days.

We then went into town and tried to chart passage on a boat. It is the end of season so there are only a few boats leaving at the moment. In the end the hostel we are in seemed to be the best bet. There was a boat leaving on the 30th of October. This fitted in perfectly with our plans. We hung around in Fethiye for the day and enjoyed the beautiful weather and opted for an early night so we could make a fresh start

The Travertines and Heriapolis

Thursday October 25th

Right. Any more f*cking mosquitos want some?

I was up splatting them again at 6am. I had been bitten again in the night. I think Marcus killed another three. It was nothing compared to Thorsen and Fatima's room though. Thorsen killed over twenty and poor Fatima had been bitten on the eye - quite a common place apparently.

On a plus it was finally sunny. We checked out of our hotel and headed straight for the Travertines. In case you have been wondering, Pumakkule is famous for a particular reason, It has hot thermal springs all over the surrounding area. above the village are a series flows and steady stream of them, creating rich calcium deposits that form, over time, first stalagmites and stalactites, and then fluffly looking cotton candy blobs of calcium carbonate that look absolutely stunning. The Romans thought this place so important for healing purposes they built a gigantic city that they called Heriapolis above the cotton candy plateaus; known also as travertines. This city was famed for its healers, apocotharies, and vast amount of sick people. In the seventies, a number of money grabbing idiots built a load of hotels on the ruins of the city and thousands of tourists came to bathe in the travertines - and all but destroyed them. Recently the Turkish heritage peeps have tried to undo this damage. However the original travertines look a little bit worse for wear. I got this lowdown from the other part owner of the hotel last night. She said everything to the right of the path is now fake. If it is, it is done very well. It is quite a hike to the top of the travertines and pretty painful on the feet but it is well worth it. As you get to the top you are greeted with the amazing ruins of Hierapolis. They are extensive, and very beautiful. They include a circus, and amphitheatre, and an agora (a forum). We, however, had other plans. We headed straight for the Thermal baths. The baths are amazing. They are a naturally heated, outdoor, swimming pool set amid the broken pillars and ruins of the old roman baths. From the moment you get into the water you are immersed in CO2 bubbles escaping through the water, not too mention a plethora of other minerals. We decided to sod the ruins and spent two and a half hours lazing around and soaking up the natural goodness.

We then hot-tailed it back down to Pumakkale as it was time to head to our next location - Fethiye, in the southern Aegean Sea. We are chasing the sun once again and also planning to take a four day cruise on a Guleg; a Turkish yacht. Remember Rom?

The bus ride was on the worst excuse for public transport I have encountered yet in Turkey. The driver insisted on keeping the air-con on about 45 C. He spent most of his time on a mobile phone whilst he drove. The reading light was set 4 inches behind me so all it did was shine on my neck. Just before Fethiye, fun boy central decided to take the bus for a carwash - with all the passengers on. That really was good fun.

We got to Fethiye late. Booked into a hostel, had some beers and went to bed.

Around Pumakkale and the Kaklik caves

Wednesday October 24th

A mosquito flew in my ear at 4am this morning. I got up and realised I had been bitten twice on the arm also. I tried to kill it but I couldn't find the little git.

I then got woken up by the call to prayer at dawn. I could hear the pitter patter of tiny raindrops.

I finally got up around 8am and twatted the mozzie. It was, of course, engorged with my blood. It cheered me up greatly.

At breakfast we met Fatima and Thorsen and apologised for the night before. We then sat and were pitched a variety of cheesy tours by a guy, looking for a all the world like a Turkish Swedish Tony, who wouldn't tell us the price of his tours. Suffice to say we neglected. We were then further subject to a pitch from the owner at reception. He was a particularly shifty looking man. He was pretty pissed off by the fact we would not go on any of his overpriced tours. We said we'd go to the Saklik caves if he halved his price. He finally lost his temper and said a person with a tattoo on their arm like mine told him they had paid $500 for it, ergo I must be rich and could afford it. What impeccable logic: he can ostentatiously rip me off because I can afford it. Twat.

As it was raining. Fatima, Torsen, Marcus, and I decided to spend the day visiting the Kaklik caves and visit the Travertines the next day. We took a dolmus (a small minibus) to Denizli and then on to Kaklik. From there we got a lift to the caves. They were very beautiful, but the was not much to see. There was however plenty to smell. The caves were rich in deposits of copper, magnesium, iron, calcium, and lots and lots of Sulphur. The whole area smelled like the worst beer fart I have ever sent out into world. Going down into the caves were like descending into Rab C Nesbit's underpants. One cool thing we did see was lots of bats. I had been bat ringing in Wytham woods recently with Merryl. We found quite a large bat - a nocturnal - I believe. These were much bigger. You would have loved them Merryl!

We left the caves and walked the 4K back to Kaklik. On the way we got to know Fatima and Thorsen. They were a lovely couple and we all hit it off really well. We got chased by mad dogs, attacked by exploding plants and we were fed quince by a man on a tractor.

We left Thorsen and Fatima in Denizli and got the Dolmus back to Pumakkule. There were no seats on the bus so a school-kid of about 15 insisted I took his. I tried to stop him but he would not take no for an answer. The consideration and kindness you receive from people in Turkey is amazing but what is even more so is the politeness of the children. If this had been Britain they would have mugged me, slap-happy'd me, then set fire to me whilst filming it on their mobiles; and that would have been the girls. They would then have posted it on U-Tube. I felt homesick all the way back.

When we got to Pummakale town we met the Danish couple once more. [Pumakkule by the way is a tiny town with a population of three or four thousand]. We stopped and had a quick beer with them and agreed to meet them later for dinner. We then had a good old lie down.

All six of us went out for dinner later that night. We had a lovely evening and had some really good food. We ended up back at Brian and Jetta's hotel whereupon we met the psychotic but harmless part-owner who kept on going from being cheerful to miserable to violent from one minute to the next. I opted to ignore him. Even when he was telling me that British people all had ugly earlobes and orange faces. He finally sulked when I would not let him kiss my hand. He then took a shine for Marcus and did the gayest dance I have ever seen; possible for him. Last thing we saw he had his head in Brian's lap.

Final day in Selcuk, the ruins of Ephesus, and the trip to Pumakkale

Tuesday October 23rd

Ok. This morning was not good. Mainly because my head felt like I had a Frenchman living in it: Lots of banging.

We also still not had our laundry. We managed to accost the reasonably sane owner and he shouted inside and it finally appeared 10mins later. There is nothing like a pair of fresh pants to put a spring in one's step!

We had gotten up really early to try and get a transfer to Ephesus. Unfortunately Simon was the only person about. 'Yes Yes. Ephesus. Transfer carpet shop. Maybe now. Later. Maybe... Yes!' We were dismissed by a wave of his hand. Another gem of information to digest. I stored it with my list of useful things; like chocolate teapots.

We found the carpet shop and got the transfer to Ephesus. It is a wonderful place to visit. Early settlements of this city date back to 800 BC. It was once a great Antonian, and then later Ionian trading centre. Of course the Romans got their hands on it and totally transformed it. Much of these intact ruins are what you can explore and walk around today. It is also interesting to note one of the ancient wonders of the world was once here: The Temple of Artemis. Unfortunately it was destroyed in a fire in 356BC. This never ceases to amaze me: In the UK we were still bopping around in mud huts.

The main reason this place is such a wonderful place to visit is because so much of it still stands intact. You can enter the amphitheatre and walk to the very top. The view is spectacular. You can also walk up the original streets and off into houses, terraced streets, baths, and even latrines. It really is the best archaeological site I have ever been to. It was pretty overrun by tourists and this was out of season. I really recommend it though. Although, in hindsight, perhaps not with a hangover.

We got back to the hostel and decided it time to split Selcuk. We bought tickets for a bus that was supposed to leave at 3pm but left at 4pm. And was supposed to be direct.. but wasn't. A tip for travelling in Turkey. Buses are great - but they are never direct and rarely leave on time. You need to get over this; although I admit, it took me a while.

Some parting notes on Selcuk. Father Christmas is buried 100km south of here. Yep it is official kids. He's kicked the bucket! Also Mary as in the Virgin Mother - Maryam Adhraa in Aramaic - travelled here with St John The Apostle. It also rains a lot.

We finally got the bus and to Pumakkale. On the way - and it was a long way - we got chatting to a girl who could speak good English and also Turkish. Her name was Fatima. She told us she was from Germany and was travelling with her boyfriend, Thorsen (pronounced Torsen). We all arrived in Denizli together. Denizli is about 20k south of Pumakkale. Remember that direct bus? We all got grabbed by a hotel tout and bundled into a car. We were all too tired to care at this point.

We ended up in a reasonable hotel with a pushy owner who was trying to sell us tours that evening. We got an acceptable room for a out of season price. It had a very special shower though - with cold water. Marcus and I went out for dinner with plans to meet the German couple. However the restaurant we chose were entering a tour group of around 80 people. So we didn't get hour food for over an hour and then it was different from what we ordered. Ne'ermind - we got hammered on red-wine. We missed Fatima and Torsen for a drink later on. Then went to bed.

Oh - there were mosquitos.

Selcuk, more rain, the case of the missing Laundry, and Simon

Monday October 22nd

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=19572&l=e64d7&id=513701387

Well guess what happened when we woke up this morning? You'll never believe it! It was raining. nevermind; we had bigger fish to fry: First and foremost, our laundry, Second the fact everyone in this hostel was nuts... and then there was Simon.

We had put our laundry in on Saturday night when we first arrived. It still had not arrived. Every time we had asked the day before we were told 'yes, yes, laundry. Yes... yes.' All good stuff and very helpful apart from now we were actually beginning to need it. We were getting this amazingly helpful little nuggets of gold from the indomitable Simon. Simon was part of the staff at this hostel. He was also the most cantankerous miserable git I have every met. Not to mention the most unhelpful. His face looked like, if it were to try and attempt to smile, it might have disastrous consequences to his nostrils and overhanging forehead.

We sat and waited in desperate hope for our laundry to turn up - fools! Whilst we did this the owner's son starting barking at the small pup that was tied up in the kennel. Another 1omins past and the our laundry still hadn't arrived. Simon had left. The boy was still barking like a dog. The dog was looking very confused. 20mins passed. No laundry. The boy had let the dog off the lead. The dog had tried to make a run for it. I don't blame it. The boy caught it and barked at it for another 10mins. We left; sans laundry.

It had stopped raining. We decided to visit Ephesus and to try and make our own way. The hostel did offer a free transfer but we had got up late. So we wandered down the road, clothes humming gently in the breeze, insects dying in our wake. We got as far as the Kofte place and it started raining again. We were walking to the bus station when the heavens opened -5mins later we were back in the hostel. The kid was still mentally confusing the dog.

We went to the local museum for an hour. It was pretty cool for an hour or. It is well worth seeing and has a great section on Gladiators. The only thing I didn't like was that most of the stuff had been swiped from Ephesus. After that it was back to the hostel.

We stayed in and watched Gallopoli on an old VHS video recorder and got hammered. We made friends with a Danish couple, Brian and Jetta and then later to English people. Izzy and Zoe. Izzy told us he had been kidnapped in Pakistan and was held captive by his own family - he escaped after a month.

We all ended up really drunk and Simon went mental. He chucked us out of the common room to bed. He found out we were still up drinking in Izzy and Zoe's room. We were all in the dog house after that. We were sent off to bed in disgrace.

a couple of days in sunny, kicking, selcuk

Sunday 21st October

Well Selcuk is a very nice place to wonder around for say - 2 hours. I had provisioned today to do absolutely nothing. But after three of four hours I cracked and got up and went out for food and a walk.

If you ever make it to Selcek there is the most phantasmic kofte take away called Sisci Yasarin Yeri down on the main street for 3 lira (1.20). After this strenuous effort we wondered up to the ruins of the Basilica of St John the Apostle built by Justanian between 527-67. I was pleasantly astounded. I had no idea of the size of the place. It was once the marvel of the Christian world. All that remains now are the ruins of the once vast Cathedral. This is so typical of Turkey: Every day new excavations are uncovered. There seem to be more ruins per square mile in this the country then we have in the whole of the UK.





Some other interesting facts about Turkey you may or may not know:

• Turkey is the only secular Muslim country among all the Muslim countries in the world
  
• Esperanto is based on the structure of the Turkish language.
  
• St. Paul was born in Tarsus (located in southern Turkey). His missionary journeys signalled the arrival of Christianity in Asia Minor from 47 AD
  
• Mount Ararat, the highest mountain in Turkey, is believed to be the place where Noah's Ark landed.
  
• St. Nicholas - today's Santa Claus, was born in Patara (next to Kalkan) and lived as the bishop of Myra in Demre (also near Kalkan).
  
• Two of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World stood in Anatolia - the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus and the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus.

• The words "Veni, vidi, vici (I came, I saw, I conquered)" were said by Julius Caesar when he went to Anatolia in 47 BC
  

There are tons more. Fascinating stuff! After that we walked home and took turns pretending to ride a tractor. Tractors here are not the old, lumbering, monolithic vehicles we get at home... no no no. They are sleek, swift, and very shiny. You know your a man went you have one of those things between your thighs. I am pretty sure that most teenage boys have tractor magazines and posters over their beds. I know I would. They have tractor show-rooms everywhere - the same way we have car show-rooms. I never knew tractors could be such a babe magnet. We also saw a young man giving an old lady a lift - possibly his Grandma - on a motorbike... on the pavement.





We arsed around for the rest of the evening - had some beers and a Nargele, then went to bed; by that time, it was raining.

Troy - again sort of - Selcuk, Ephesus, and more rain

Saturday October 20th

I had better start making these briefer as so much as happened. I would prefer to write at my own pace, but from a combination of sporradic internet connections and having too much fun, I am getting behind. So I am going to try and get a shimmy on.

Ok. So we awoke in Cannakale to pouring rain. We decided that Troy could go hang itself and we booked ourself on a bus south - all the way down the Selcuk - a small town just off the coast of the Agean. This a handy place recommended in the Lonely Planet (aka The Bible) for visiting the celebrated ruins of Ephesus; the celebrated remains of a once colossal roman city and the most intact and extensive in the whole of the Mediterranean.

We travelled all day, changing at Izmir and finally reached Selcuk late in the evening. It was a very quiet and peaceful little place. We had our a pick of places but decided to choose the NZ Hostel as it sounded like it had a nice vibe to it. It was pretty dead - but then everywhere is out of season. We checked in and had a couple of beers. By the way Efes is the main lager all over Turkey - it comes in huge bottles and costs about one pound. It tastes a bit wheaty but it is nice enough. After that we wondered into town and got some food. A man flew a radio controlled helicoptor into me. It was pretty much the highlight of the night - apart from England lost at the rugby. Lucky I hate rugby really.

Canakkale: Gallıpolı and Troy... well sort of

Public facebook photos are here:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=18266&l=4c918&id=513701387


We awoke this morning ın a new location; how exciting! And it wasn't raining either which was just top! I headed downstairs and booked us on to a tour of Gallipoli. It was quite a long day - running from 12pm to 7pm.

Marcus and I went out and grabbed a kofte for breakfast - in the absence of eggy-weggs - this is rapidly becoming our staple diet. We took a boat from Canakkale harbour over to Kilitbahir the main port on the peninsular. On the way, etched into the hillside, is a huge poem and a picture. The poem translates into English:

Traveller, Halt! The soil you headlessly tread

once witnessed the end of an era

Listen! In this quiet mound - there once beat the heart of a nation.

We landed and were immediately presented with lunch - the fat b*stards strike again! after which our Tour guide took us to the museum to begin the tour. There were about nine of us on the tour - four Australians, two Canadians, two Americans, and us two English.

He started by explaining the background behind the war fought at Gallipoli. This was something I have to confess - I knew nothing about. In 1915 the Allied forces accused Turkey of entering the war and siding with Germany; up until this point the were neutral. There was some odd things that were never explained properly: such as why to German battleships with Turkish markings and a Turkish flag were moored off Istanbul. However, in the main, the Allies wanted to nip in the bud what Mr Churchill considered 'The Turkish menace' They also wanted to, I believe, take control of the Dardanelles, Istanbul, and the Bosphorus Strait. The main shipping route between Europe and Asia and a key strategic military point.

The launched a naval attack into the Dardanalles expecting little resistance. Turkey kicked their arses. The allies had a bit of a rethink of their strategy and, on April the 25th that year, they sent a invasion fleet to the Gallipoli peninsular to attack overland. That day is now known as ANZAC day.

The strategy was to march into Turkey and to Istanbul. A massive force of British, Indian, French, Australian, and New Zealand forces, were deployed all the way up the coastline and two Naval destroyers were sent north to provide a diversion for the troops. It nearly worked - the entire plan was foiled by a couple of factors: the initial thrust of the ANZAC forces were thrown into confusion because they landed a mile north of their intended landing point - a place known now as ANZAC cove. Also a minor officer in the Turkish army managed to guess the strategy of the Allies and, with only a tiny force of Turkish troops, held off the ANZAC forces until reinforcements arrived. He then went on to single-handedly to lead the defense strategy for the entire war - whilst suffering from malaria. He later re-formed the government, created Ankara as a new capital, and changed the fate of his nation. His name was Mustafa Kemal; the Turks know him as Attaturk (Father Turk). I really want to read his biography - he sounds amazing. Currently the one I am after is going for £168 on Amazon. He also died at the age of 58 of liver cirrhosis from chronic alcoholism; quite a human character!

So this was the lowdown we were given. There is a lot more. Much more. The guide kept on saying that the beeg mistake was from the Allied forces messing up the landing point for the ANZAC troops. I really think that was a moot point, however I am no tactician, and I am certainly not being patriotic. I was thinking whether or not the landing party was successful was irrelevant. The big guns raining down from Kabatepe, further down on the south coast, cut down any subsequent landing parties and forced them to land at ANZAC cove anyway. The Allies were striving to take the high ground - the objectives were the ridges at the top of the peninsula and Chanuk Bair - the highest point. They got as far as what is now known as lone pine. Three or four times that day this point exchanged hands. It is said wars are won on both decisions and indecisions. Maybe then, the battle would have been different if they landed on the right cove. Maybe. Then Turkish reinforcements arrived and the trench lines were dug in. For the next nine and a half months these lines budged no more than maybe forty metres each way along. Trench warfare is horrific. Wilfred Owen knew all about it: Dulce et Decorum Est. That summer was supposed to be the hottest summer and coldest winter in over a hundred years. Five hundred thousand Turkish troops lost their lives; over forty thousand ANZAC troops; forty thousand French troops and over one hundred and fifty thousand British troops.

We were shown around a number of the battlefields and strategic points. We saw the trenches and the graves of so many troops, mainly ANZAC, who ranged between 14 and 48. The average age seemed to be around 24. We also visited a Turkish graveyard, the average age was much younger - 21. Most Turkish troops fought with a ration of five bullets a day. After that, it was bayonets.

The Allies finally gave up the pointless carnage and gave orders to retreat. By January 1916 it was all over. Apart from it took many Turkish people nearly two years to get home. The final list of casualties was over two million.

There is something profoundly quiet about this place. Mainly because, apart from a small population of farmers and people working on heritage and conservation, it is uninhabited. It was a profoundly moving and humbling experience, and one I am glad I experienced. I am still pretty certain that the elderly American lady stood on my foot and kicked me over seven times on purpose. I nearly started kicking her back at one point.

Going back past the poem this time really made a lot of sense. We got back to Canakkale and went out and played Tavla - that is Turkish for backgammon. Turks love it. We decided to go to visit the ruins of Troy in the morning. I have to say, in my ignorance, I had no idea Troy was in Turkey; I thought it was in Greece. But then there are so many things about Turkey I had no idea about. I'll update you in a little while.

When to bed - nobody farted. Bonzaa!

Last day in Istanbul

Thursday October 18th

We got up this morning eager to be off now. Up until now this has just been a long week-end holiday. Now we can really start travelling with our big rucksacks and permanently injure our spines, necks, knees, etc...

We got the train to the Marmara coast - South-side Sultanahmet to get the ferry from Yenikabi to Bandirmi. We hiked to the Cat terminal only to find that the times had changed and we were stuck in Istanbul for another six hours. So we headed back to the hostel to dump our rucksacks. Marcus elected to read his book so I walked down across Galata bridge and over to the Galata tower. It was a lovely day for a walk and I sauntered down, avoiding the traffic [I am just going to say a little bit here about Istanbul drivers. When I first arrived ın Turkey I thought them to be pretty okay compared to some places: Cairo for instance. Cairo has the only example I have ever experienced of a true entropic system at work. It is utter insanity. Taxis form around 99.9% of all traffic on the road. They are all huge cars with fake leopard-skin upholstery and fluffy dice. They career from side to side, over huge pedestrianised streets ın what seems to be a concerted attempt to mow down chickens, mules, donkeys, and terrified tourists. If you are mad enough to get in one you will find yourself driven around like a human ping-pong ball with some nut job with no teeth driving: screaming broken English phrases such as 'Ramsees three!!' at you over the pumping Egyptian radio. Traffic lights seem to exist merely for ornamental reasons and horns are used as a form of a language: to say hi to someone; to indicate lane changes; even to suggest you are going to do a U-turn in the street. You may well find your driver mystifyingly stopping to herd an entire family of people into your cab and then drive them in the opposite direction to your original destination with no prior consultation; although perhaps you get informed of this in horn-speak. It is all, good old psychotic fun and, more to the point - against all reason and logic -, it works. Traffic in Istanbul is not quite the same. Do not get me wrong: The drivers are as nuts. But they seem to obey the rules more - well most of the time. For instance: as we were walking to the catamaran this morning, a taxi driver, realising he'd missed his turned off from the bypass, decided to correct this by hand-breaking 40 metres down from it - right by us. Traffic peeled left and right from behind him like the finale at a red-arrows air tattoo. The driver of one car, that zipped past us, looked as thought he was having a heart-attack; I don't blame him. Tyres screeched in the fresh morning air as he slowly reversed back up the verge. One of the vehicles that passed him was a police car... it was marked traffıc polıce? They had the radıo on and were all bopping theır heads] taking in the beautiful warm day. Galata bridge is teeming with fishermen. Anglers to be precise. They all stand ın allocated slots on the bridge - rods at the ready - catching an inordinate amount of fish.



After the bridge you will fınd that many of the tourist shops disappear and give way to more... specific places. Here you can fınd shops dedicated to selling chainsaws, carbuerrators, sprockets, widgets, whatsits, whoojamaflips, thingamygigs, and all sorts. It is a dıfferent type of Turkey on this side of the river.



I finally wound my way up some steep streets to the Galata tower. This amazıng edifce ıs a testemant to the endurance of this cıty. It has been in existence sınce the Byzantıne days. and ıt has gone through an amazıng amount of facelıfts. It was first built in the 4th Century and through various periods it has fallen foul to earthquakes, culture shocks, and pillaging; ıt has had more face-lifts than Michael Jackson. in fact it reminds me of the routine from Only Fools and Horses:
Heroes and Villains (1996)
Trigger, Del, Rodders, Sid and Boycie chating in Sid's cafe. Trigger has just been presented with an award for saving the council money.
Trigger And that's what I've done. Maintained it for 20 years. This old brooms had 17 new heads and 14 new handles in its time.


Sid How the hell can it be the same bloody broom then?
Trigger There´s the picture. What more proof do you need?

Here ıs the utube lınk also:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jSmSTpRUeLs,





So - I took the lıft to the top of the tower and took ın the view - Istanbul´s vısage. My God ıt was amazing! I haven´t got the sticky shift on my camera sorted out so I could not do the full panoramic view. However İ do have some amazing pıcs on Facebook.



Afterwards I strolled up to the hostel and Marcus and I headed off to Yenikabi once again. The trıp was pretty uneventful apart from we all had to run along the marina in order to sit on a half empty Catamaran. I slightly misread the map and thought the bus from Bindirma to Canakkale took 45 mıns - it actually takes 3 hours. We were going to stay in the equivalent lodging of the Crossroads Motel but we pushed on and ended up ın Cannakale at 1am. Tomorrow we are taking a tour to Galipoli.

The Bosphorus Strait part II

Wednesday October 17th

The sunshine greeted us once again as we got up today. We ate our Turkish breakfasts and, in what is rapidly becoming a gastronomic tradition, Marcus got my egg [I don't know if you are familiar with Turkish breakfasts but they consist of the following: Honey, bread, Turkish goat's cheese (known as white cheese) black and/or green olives, tomatoes, cucumbers, Cay(tea) and lots of eggs. Turks love eggs. Boiled, scrambled, fried, grilled, poached. They love 'em. I don't know if you are familiar with my eating habits. But I detest eggs. Just to paint correct picture] and I got his olives.

We headed down to the harbour by Galata bridge; this time on the tram. We caught a boat heading north up the Bosphorus Strait all the way to Anadolu Kavagili. This is a lovely little fishing town near the delta of Karadeniz - the Black Sea. The boat dropped us off in the harbour and we struck out of town. The Lonely Planet: which is to be our bible for the next year. Suggested this hike should take 50 mins. They obviously were basing this on tours they did with their geriatric grandparents - it took us two, fat - olive and egg fuelled - b*stards 20mins; probably because we were gagging for lunch. The panorama from top is amazing you can see all the way to Istanbul and then off into the Black Sea. We stood within the walls of a ruined castle and surveyed the shipping routes of the hundreds of boats that sail this route everyday. I believe it runs into hundreds of thousands a year. Bear in mind the significance of this. You'll be drawn to it again in a couple of posts. Marcus and I fecked around in the ruins having a big argument over who was the king of the castle and who was the dirty rascal; this is how much of our conversations go... we then went and had lunch.

Lunch was pretty tasty - it was fresh sea bass. Marcus, being the fat b*stard that he is, ordered the three course deal. I just had fish. Nothing really eventful happened. We had a beer. Marcus got fatter. He told me that only king of the castles had 3 course meals and dirty rascals had none. I told him I was allowing the dirty rascal to eat in the presence of royalty to show all my subjects my leniency; even towards fat b*stards. Three wasps continuously flew round our food so we but some beer and sugar in an ash-tray to distract them. They then got pissed and went absolutely mental on sugar and alcohol and kicked off. We left soon after. Pretty uneventful really.

We headed back along the Bosphorus strait into the Golden Horn to Eminonu coming once more around the Golden Horn and the striking Sultanahmet peninsula. In 1453 Sultan Mehmet II, known also as Sultan the Conqueror, led an army against the Byzantine Empire. Across the Golden Horn ran a chain - yes a chain -- yes in 1453 -- - that could be hauled up to prevent naval attacks on the capital. Mehmet, the sneaky little sod, had his army carry there ships on rollers across from the Bosphorus into the Golden Horn. They sacked the city. The current Byzantine King, also somewhat fittingly named Constantine, fell on the city walls his great ancestor had built, and thus fell the Byzantine Empire. The Muslims converted Sancta Sophia into the great mosque, Aya Sofia. Remember Enrico Dandolo, the Doge of Venice? His grave was in Sofia Sancta. His bones were dug up and given to dogs; the human heart a fiery gorge indeed. Mehmet was 21 at the time - Imagine doing all that before being able to drink and have sex legally in some states in the US?

We landed in Istanbul harbour, had a Nargele and then headed back to the hostel. We decided on an early night: Tomorrow we are getting the Catamaran to Bandirma and then on to Canakkale - and to Troy and Gallipoli. I am looking forward, greatly, to not sleeping in a shared dorm with people farting the frog chorus every night!