Cappadocia

So we head to Cappadocia in central Turkey – it’s a rugged landscape with soft limestone geological formations… which in simple terms means that people have been burrowing into the rocks to create houses for about 1400 years. It looks more like a lunar landscape than anything from this world. Unlike many of the cities we have visited, Goreme manages its touts by banning them, so the persistent and energetic touts do not greet us when we arrive – a welcome relief.

I’ve been hanging out to stay in a cave – I say its to live like a local but really, the little boy in me says it's adventurous and exciting. We awake on the first morning to 5 inches of snow, which makes the landscape look even more eerie – and of course its bloody cold but we have a centrally heated cave so its all good.

We find a cool – and a little weird – restaurant. After we order our food, they pull out drums and a Turkish sitar and start a jam session. The whole vibe is really light hearted and friendly- the chef Top Deck used to cook on a double decker bus in London (hence the nick name), and his engaging approach make it easy to while the afternoon away in the restaurant. He pulls out the Raki (Turkish oozo) and the rest is history.

On Sunday, there’s a local election across Turkey and the government has banned alcohol to prevent fights breaking out. Still there’s plenty of people on the streets cheering as the outcome is made public, and a couple of cars hunt up and down honking horns and dropping doughnuts. Hello democracy!

Goreme is pretty famous for its unique formations - in the photo below, I'm standing close to where a part of Star Wars was filmed.

And if you think that's pretty cool, check out the photo below from one of the best sights in Goreme. The Open Air Museum, a Christian-created swathe of churches carved into the mountains is just outside of the main town. Most of the churches (more than 20, you can never have too many churches) are from the 11th and 12th century, so given the frescoes are 800+ years old, they are pretty spectacular. I’ve seen a few churches, mosques and museums over the past 6 weeks, but these churches really exuded a unique energy all of their own.

Plans are to head to Syria in the next few days, so its time to head south to Antakya. To save time and push the envelope, we’re hopping on a night bus. I’ll let you know how it goes…

Konya

After the relaxed atmosphere of Olympus, we head north to the city of Konya, which is well known as one of the most conservative religious areas in Turkey. Having encountered religious fanaticism before, I’m a little nervous, but the nervousness is completely unfounded.

Konya is the birth place of the Mevlana ‘whirling dervishes’, a religious order who reach spiritual ecstacy through whirling and dancing… there’s a museum dedicated to Mevlana and his followers which is intriging to visit. Its a serious commitment to become a fully fledged Mevlana dervish - you need to stay at the mosque for 1000 days, and learn the traditions of dancing, meditation and prayer. I'm sure I'm not up for that sort of commitment...

Unlike the warmth of Olympos, Konya is cold - on the bus ride here we saw metre high snow drifts. We're heading to Cappadocia from here to stroll through amazing geological formations and explore the caves and underground cities excavated by Christians hudreads of years earlier. Might even stay in a cave...

Olympos and the Mediterranean

Olympos is a travellers dream – imagine huge, jungle covered mountain peaks with walking trails disappearing into mysterious ruins slowly being swallowed up by nature.

Then add luxury bungalow accommodation and an idyllic beach… what more could you ask for? We heard through the grapevine that travellers plan to stay here a few days but extend, and extend, and extend.

I like bucking trends, but this is one trend I happily followed. I swam (the water was freezing), we walked and explored the Olympos ruins, caught up on some reading, writing and sleep. As there wasn't much to keep me occupied, I developed a serious addiction to Turkish tea in Olympos - its standard to consume 10 'cups' per day and the stuff is pretty strong (read kicks like a mule). All in all, I loved this place - two thumbs up.

Travelling…

Plains flat and wide as the eye can see give way to mountain skirted plains, dusted in snow. As we bus further south east, the plains are swallowed by the mountains, and we climb, winding left and right over and around the huge craggy snow capped peaks. Unlike the west of Turkey, the feel of this part of Turkey is indisputably Asian. It really feels like we are heading towards the frontier, and people are friendly and curious.

Selçuk and Ephesus

After Cannakale, we head south east to Selcuk – the geography is changing, getting more and more mountainous and some of them are dusted with a fine snow. Just out of Selcuk is the ancient city of Efes (Ephesus), which is supposed to be the ‘jewel in the crown’ of Turkish ruins. It lives up to its reputation and more - nothing less than amazing. There is well preserved and still in tact buildings.

The foot (photo below) is first century advertising – indicating the way to the brothel, definitely important information. But the weather has turned cold – wind is blowing pretty hard from the North across fresh snow, so we are informed. Feels like it too! Time to head south to (hopefully!) warm weather and the sea.

Çannakale

It’s a small city on the eastern side of the Dardanelles Strait – a perfect base to explore the many battle sites of the Gallipoli peninsula… which is why I’m here.

On the 25th April 1915, thousands of Australian and New Zealand soldiers (Anzac's) landed at a cove on the Gallipoli Peninsula before dawn to capture high ground and assist a British force to control the sea route to the Black Sea. Over 8700 Australian soldiers did not return from the battle, which dragged on for 9 long months. Ever since, Australians have celebrated the sacrifice of these men on the 25th April every year – a national holiday, Anzac Day.

Although I’ve heard the story a thousand times, to actually see the place where the legend began is a special moment. We are traveling with a couple of other Aussies and we fall quiet as we approach the landing site – it’s a shitty little beach 20 metres wide and 600 metres long. There’s pretty big mountains on the beachfront, and I can imagine how confusing it would have been to arrive here in the dark, expecting low foothills and getting cliffs ... all the while being shot at.

As we walk along the beach, I’m struck at how unimportant it all seems now, even though at the time it was an ‘essential’ tactical maneuver. One thing makes me sad and angry- these young men who died probably didn’t even know who the Turkish people were, what they stood for and why they were there on a beach on the other side of the world, fighting and getting killed. I can’t understand fighting for a cause I don’t believe in, let alone not even knowing what the fight was for.

Istanbul

Talk about a clash of tradition and modernity - Istanbul, the jewel in the crown of the Turkish empire and at the crossroads of the European and Asian continents is a feast for the senses and the imagination. I didn’t know what to expect, but the city I encountered is refined, confident and relaxed.

At five times during the day, speakers mounted on Mosque spires announce the call to prayer - the first indication that something is different here. On Fridays, the mosques are full to overflowing, because devout Muslims attend for prayers – for the rest of the week they pray at home or work. It's good to witness first hand the practices of the Islamic faith - I'm not Islamic but I feel comfortable being surrounded by devoted worshippers praying. I find it easy to respect people who have religious belief but are comfortable enough with it and themselves not to force it onto others.

Being the low season, streets are uncrowded (with tourists anyway) - shop and restaurant proprietors are keen to see customers, sometimes a little too keen. I reckon if I had a dollar for each time someone offered me a carpet I would be a rich man. Whoever though up the saying 'for all the tea in China' could easily substitute 'for all the carpets in Turkey' - they're everywhere.

It’s really nice to slow up for a bit, sit and watch the traffic go by, and because we have rainy weather, it feels legitimate. We check out the Blue Mosque (top photo), a spectacular example of Ottoman architecture - it has an amazing silence which you only get in 'sacred' places of worship. On my birthday, we venture to a hamam (Turkish bath) for a scrub, massage and sauna - nothing suss, honest. As it's really cold outside, it feels awesome to relax in the hot room and let the stresses of the past few weeks evaporate in plenty of steam.

We also take a ferry up the Bosphorus to the Black Sea and stroll among ancient castle ruins overlooking the junction between the strait and the sea – then as now an important sea trading route. Annually, the Bosphorus sees 60,000 ships, or about one ship every 10 minutes. In the First World War, the British sent battleships to seize control of this shipping route.

Our next stop is Çannakale, just across from the Gallipoli peninsula, which also saw action in the First World War. Australian soldiers, commonly known as Anzacs, were part of the British led force which attempted to claim the Bosphorus. Given the history of Gallipoli, it’s a place I’m looking forward to visit.

Greece

Well, after a pain in the ass mission getting onto the train in Macedonia, we finally arrive in Thessaloniki around 4 hours late. The skies are blue and the Mediterranean is on our back door - it's the first good weather since we left London. Spearhead frontman, Michael Franti says 'everything is better in the summertime' - I think he's right!

We've only got a couple of days in Greece, so we head out to explore some of the sights of the city - it's awesome to get out and about in the sun. There are some spectacular sights in Thessaloniki and hopefully some good coffee too... apparently, Nescafe is better than a good espresso (?) in some establishments. Rest assured, I persevere and am rewarded with a pretty good Greek coffee.

Although the sun is out and the temperature is in the mid teens, it's evident that I am used to much colder climes - all the locals are wearing coats and scarves and I'm thinking about jumping in the water. I've never been to Greece, but I can just imagine that this place would be going off the Richter scale in summer - there's funky street cafes everywhere, and an energetic, outdoor vibe which makes you feel pumped.

But after just 2 days, our time in Greece is over. Tonight we board a sleeper train bound for Istanbul, the gateway to Asia. In the past 2 weeks, we have travelled through 5 countries and I'm looking forward to kicking it down a couple of notches and soaking up some of the more subtle elements each country has to offer.

Skopje

Ah Macedonia... but which one? The Macedonia of which Skopje is capital is formally known as the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia, not to be confused with the region of Macedonia in Greece, of which Thessaloniki (our next stop) is the main city. A simple distinction, but a vital one if you want to gain kudos with people from either place.

Where I grew up in Western Australia is known for its Mediterranean climate, and in Macedonia, the weather reminds me of home - cool wet winters perfect for curling up in front of the fire with a book. The weather clears and we set off to explore the city and surrounds. In comparison to Budapest, Belgrade and Pristina, Skopje is old - it was founded in the 3rd Century BC, and as well as being distincly Macedonian, has many Greek and Turkish influences (see photo above) which can be seen and tasted around the city.

At the national museum (Museum of Macedonia), there's pottery, jewelery and stone work covering Stone, Bronze and Iron Age periods - not that exciting. What really interests me is the collection of Christian relics dating from the 1st through 16th centuries, which may suprise those of you who know I'm not even slightly Christian. I find it fascinating to see the depth of devotion to God evident in artworks, carvings and engravings. No matter what field they are in, I find passionate people inspiring, and the pieces on display demonstrate the passion and love these artisans put into their work.

In a certain way, Skopje reminds me of London - everywhere you turn, there is a historical monument which dates back thousands of years, while in the foreground, daily life goes on as it always has. As I look back on thousands of years of human habitation, its difficult not to feel humbled, and honestly I think that's a good thing...

Kosovo

After the experience of Serbia, I was keen to see what Kosovo was really like. If I'm honest, I was a little nervous about heading to Kosovo. Having spoken to a couple of Serbians and a Greek guy, the overall impression was I was taking my life into my own hands by making the trip to Pristina...

The outcome was, well, a bit of a let down. I was expecting a wild frontier town, but Pristina was 'normal'. It was a bit dirty, but not to the same extent as Belgrade, and most of the infrastucture - buildings and roads - were new. The first indication of how the war affected Pristina. Outside one of the government buildings, a 100 strong photo shrine commemorated war victims - all of the 'death' dates were in 1998 or 1999.

But the most interesting thing about Pristina was the people. I can't put my finger on exactly what 'it' was, but I'm pretty sure it related to the recent one year anniversary of independence - posters everywhere shouted Bac, U Kry! which is literally Uncle, It's done! The vibe in the air was hope. Kosovans had a spring in their step and walked with purpose and direction.

In hindsight, Serbia felt tense and angry in relation to Kosovo. I can understand why but the evil Kosovo portrayed by Serbs I spoke to didn't eventuate. The world's newest nation state has evidently stepped out of the shadow of Serbia, not forgetting the struggle but keen to move forward.

And speaking of moving forward, it was time for me to move on - next stop, Skopje, Macedonia.

Wild, wild East

Well, here we go - I'm back in the drivers seat of life.

Budapest (pronounced Buda-pesht) sits on the Danube River, and although its just over 2 hours flight from London, its a world away. We land to a foot of snow and below freezing conditions, a functional rather than fashionable post communist train system and a welcoming Hungarian hostel. The lights of London have faded and the dust is settling - its time to take a step back and relax.

Hungary does not possess many natural resources, except for mineral springs which bubble up everywhere around the city. It’s strangely comforting to be sitting in steaming warm baths while snow settles on the poolside paving. Perching myself on a seat in the spa, I soak the tiredness away. If you are ever in Hungary, the baths are a must. We also try the communist response to McDonalds – the communist hamburger. It’s a deep fried piece of dough around 10 inches across piled high with sour cream and grated cheese, and then your choice of flesh. From one meal, you have three different types of fat – I can feel my eyebrows getting fatter already!

Once night fell, we grabbed a couple of fellow country men and went looking for beats and the local brew. Szimpla, a bar in the Jewish quarter, reminds me of bars in Berlin – dark, dank, a bit dirty, but oh, so cool… and funky people everywhere.

Belgrade is somewhat different to Budapest. As we cross the border from Hungary to Serbia, I’m looking for remnants of the war and get the feeling that poverty is still quite close to Serbia – there’s lots of damaged buildings, rubbish lying around and the farms don’t look as healthy as in Hungary. Its dark by the time we pull into Belgrade, but the smell reminds me of Bangkok - an industrial diesel oil crossed with overcooked cabbage.

A local welcomes us to ‘stinky Belgrade’, and we jump onto a tram for the trip to the hostel only to get hopelessly lost. I’m already tenuous about Belgrade, and here we are, stuck on a street corner unable to speak or read the language (Cyrillic characters!) with NO idea where we are. We hail a taxi which parks on the tram lines to pick us up. I pull out the map and explain where to go… but a tram comes and the driver speeds off. I suggest we walk, but Steph won’t hear it. We hail another taxi, and this guy knows where we are headed, nearly 3 kms away. I was all for walking, but I’m glad Steph talked sense into me.

After a leisurely breakfast the next morning, we set off to explore. There’s a football game on in the afternoon, with two Belgrade teams meeting in what promises to be an interesting match. On the way there, we notice lots of police in riot gear and as we get closer to the stadium, the police concentration increases. Looks like they are expecting an interesting game too… Arriving way before the kick-off, we decide the game is not for us and head off to explore the other sights of Belgrade.

I’m particularly interested in the history – just 10 years ago, NATO jets tore up the Serbian sky, the latest chapter in nearly 600 years of simmering tensions in the Balkans region. I sense an underlying tension in the air - many of the Serbs I talk to express anger and resentment at the 1999 NATO strikes. Along one of the main roads, a relic from the war – a bombed out building – remains as a haunting reminder of a war.

One year ago, ethnic Albanians in the mostly Muslim Serbian state of Kosovo declared independence. Understandably, this is a source of contention with many Serbs, who have lived for generations in the Kosovo region. I always think there are 2 sides to every story, so it stands to reason that Kosovo is our next stop.