South to Syria

Night bus was mental – the thought of ‘saving time’ did not return good dividends. Won’t be doing that in a hurry again. To add insult to injury, the dude at the bus company gave a special price – I’m pretty pissed at being ripped off and powerless to do anything about.

Antakya passes in a blur – its getting warm and skies are blue and clear, but I’m delirious after getting next to no sleep on the bus. I’m really nervous about the upcoming entry into Syria – we don’t have a visa and need to blag it at the border. I’ve heard horror stories of 24 hour delays and administrative nightmares. We decide to do it on our own steam too – flagging the package bus direct to Aleppo, we get a combination of micro-bus, taxi and shanks pony to cross the border. It’s hot, and tough going with our fully loaded backpacks on. I know I’m backpacking, but carrying the bloody thing for an extended time in the hot sun is not my idea of a holiday.

We pass through both borders with relative ease – the Syrian border official takes an obsessive interest in every page of my passport, and I realize he’s checking for evidence of Israel entrance. Any traces of excursions there mean no entry to Syria. And the visa, cushioned by a large ‘baksheesh’ payment, is no issue either. By 5pm, we’re strolling the streets of Aleppo, the northern Syrian city. Its way more in your face than Turkey, and more than once I have to shoo off predatory men intent on harassing Steph. Although she’s wearing a headscarf, there’s more attention than either of us would like and memories of India come flooding back.

At the end of the street where we are staying, there’s a falafel stand and holy shit, it’s really really good. At 25 pence per ‘sandwich’, it’s easy to hook into at any time of the day, and by the end of our time in Aleppo, we are regulars. The souqs, or markets, are a labyrinthine collection of covered alleyways, passages and tunnels, and there’s a shop for anything you want to buy. At first, its difficult to see any order in the souq, but after a while I get used to the way things work, although I’m not so good at getting my head around Arabic.

After Turkey, Syria makes me feel like a rich man - we change our Turkish Lira for Syrian Pounds and get about 18,000 pounds - one English pound gets around 65 Syrian pounds. The hotel costs us 960 pounds per night, so I won't be rich for long...

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…

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.