Day 76. At last, a bit of quality to finish with!

At about 3.00pm today, Wednesday 28th November, I was ushered through the rather tight security screening and taken through to the formal reception room of the British Embassy here in Istanbul for a much anticipated cup of proper English tea with my friend Leigh Turner, who, fortuitously for us both, just happens to be the Consul General here.

For me this marks the end of the 'proper' bit of my journey, though I still have a trip to Bansko in Bulgaria ahead for some skiing with Jack and Charlie. I was very far from sure that I'd make it this far when I set out back in September (didn't really know where Istanbul was to be honest!). But it all seems to have fallen into some kind of place. 

Just over 8000 km in case you're interested - 2500 of them on two wheels, the rest mainly on buses and ferries. Will try and post some route maps and more considered thoughts  in due course but, for the moment, I just want to say an enormous thanks to everyone who has put me up along the way and supported me with some wonderful emails and texts.

And, should you feel moved to make a more tangible contribution, this is the link to Fi's Just Giving page.

As we say here in Turkey, 'teşekkürler ve iyi geceler'!

Day 73-5. Ticking 'em off...

Number 94 on everyone's  list of '101 things to do before you die' is probably not to travel 1000 km on a 16 hour overnight bus journey. But since I've done it, I'll cross that one off. (It's very over-rated by the way.)

Oh. and I can also tick off another one: reached Istanbul via the Dardanelles which, as I learned yesterday on a tour of the WW1 Gallipoli battlefields, is more than the mighty British fleet managed in 1915. So a small pat on the back for self. 

Day 72. Sod the culture

Well obviously the most important thing to report today, much more significant than all the cultural highlights of Cappadocia -  which are many and impressive - is that the substantial Taiwanese and Japanese contingent on our minibus quite spontaneously told me that I looked very like George Clooney. 

I was, at the time, feeling pretty rough after a night trying to ignore a developing toothache and an inflamed lip (don't ask).  And I was probably looking even worse than I felt due to some pretty crummy sanitary facilities at the ShoeString. So it was just the sort of compliment that I needed! They then went and spoilt it by telling our guide, who was a standard, hirsute Turk (albeit with a nice smile), that he looked like Tom Cruise!

Like many of the pansione and hotels in Goreme, 

the Shoestring is built into the rock - very organic!

After several weeks of cycling across the continent with narry a taste of culture, I have done a pretty good job of catching up recently, with an agora of roman temples, history a plenty (Go Hittites!),  more than a splash of early Christian church decoration, and some solid chunks of geology (limestone traventines and Magic  chimney erosion). So hasn't Turkey done well? 

I'm shortly leaving on another overnight bus to check out the Dardinelles (disastrous WW1 campaign) and then all the Islamic stuff that Istanbul has to offer.  Stand by your Baedeckers!

Actually, chuck them away because here in the 21st Century I've been using the Rough Guide to Turkey that I downloaded on to my phone and it's been terrific! 

In the interests of balance, I have also been reading old fashioned books, mainly because I managed to leave my Kindle in the Lesvos B&B (whence it is being sent to Poste Restante in Istanbul). I wonder what George ıs reading...

No George doesn't do that humpy back look but my Taıwanese frıends sımply ınsısted on takıng some pıctures of me. Unfortunately they mıssed out the tourıst camel that ıs just over to my left - much more photogenıc!

Day 70. Wot! No 40 thieves?

I've decided to see some sights in central Turkey and Ali,  my scooter-riding host, offered to get me a special deal. His prices seemed good but, as he pulled out an official pad on which to book a tour for the next few days, I had to stifle a cry of amazement - his name really *is* Ali Baba! Since I'd just given him a load of money and  most of the arrangements seem to rely entirely on trust, I set off this morning on my trip with a certain amount of unease. 

But, you know,  yet again it all seemed to work out rather swimmingly. After three hours on excellent roads (for once, not funded by the EU!), we  de-bussed at Denzili and straight on to a minibus that was waiting for us, with an English-speaking courier, to whisk us to our destination. Here my onward bus voucher was instantly converted to a proper ticket and I was told where and when the minibus would be to take me to the otogar (=auto gare) later. Left the backpack at a friendly hotel and went exploring another World Heritage site: Pamukkale. 

Wow! Check it out on google or somewhere like here (http://www.greecetravel.com/turkey/pamukkale/index.htm) because my words can't begin to do it justice. At first sight it's like nothing so much as a rather dirty ski slope - but it's made of stone, Traventine to be precise, which is a type of limestone. Because it's precious (a bit like coral) you have to take off your shoes and explore barefoot. But walking up smooth white rock, with warm water running down between your toes is actually very different and rather special. 

Then, at the top, you put your shoes back on to explore another terrific archaeological site: Herapolis which is, if anything, even more extensive than Ephesus and which, at this time of year,  was pretty much empty. 

A good day's sightseeing and, so far, no sign of Ali's thieves!

Day 68. Turkish delights

It's all about food isn't it? Shortly after my morning muesli, I was busy jotting down some 'get by in Turkish' key words on board MV Konstantinos, a smallish ferry taking me on the short hop from Mittilini to Dikini in Turkey.

Arrived by 11.00 and went straight from ferry to ATM to collect some Turkish lira. No idea of rate so got 100. Then into shop for chocolate and nibbles in order to try and work out value of 100TL. That's easy: seems to be about £100!  

About to buy fruit when a coach went past with 'Izmir' on back. Quick dash up the road to catch it, chucked backpack in belly of bus & on -  I'm away within 15mins! All v different. 

Actually not that different: the road passes thru the inevitable olive groves and past wind turbines.  The garages sell LPG. The only difference is that we passengers get free water & a squeeze of lemon-scented hand freshener. Don't get that with NationalExpress.

Got to Izmir bus station about 1.30 and walked into terminal to check out the travel options. Said one word (hello) & was directed to their English speaker who sent me out to the minibus that whisked me out of rather industrial and unappealing Izmir towards Ephesus where I hope to find a room. Just had time to buy a sandwich. Off we go again!

By teatime, I found myself at Ali's place - the Nur Pansione  (www.nur-pension.com)  somewhere  in the back streets of Selcuk. I arrived here on the back of Ali's little scooter which pootled up at the bus station in response to a phone call from one of the booking  clerks. Talk about putting your life into someone else's hands!

I was pretty anxious by this point because I didn't seem to have many options and I was aware that another tout thought he had already 'got' me. And, of course, I assume that everyone is out to get me, in the sense of ripping me off, which doesn't help the stress levels. 

It's only as I head out for a much-needed evening drink that I work out that 100TL is actually £30, not £100! Hey - I can afford several drinks...except, of course, I can't because it's a muslim country and you get a choice of orange or pomegranate juice with your meal.  Tant pis. 

Finished the day with my first real Turkish coffee which was, to be honest, not a patch on the version that Graham serves in Croatia. However it's early days yet and I'm hopeful that my enjoyment of the country and its foods will improve as we get to know each other better over the days to come.  Bon appetit! 

Day 65. More politics!

As I was wandering the streets today, I noticed that there were an unusual number of policemen lounging about. When I asked at the hostel,  I was told that November 17th is the anniversary of a famous student uprising in 1973 against the military junta of the time. A demo was planned later on!

 I got down to the Parliament building pretty much at the march began. By then there were hundreds of police and army about surrounding the Parliament building, all in riot gear...just in case, as one shop-keeper told me!

 

When are we going to see some action Sarg?

I haven't been to many protest marches so it was interesting to see this at close quarters. It was all pretty good natured, though the activists at the front of the march were fairly worked up and certainly looked the business. 

 

Banner after banner came through, each with a separate group of supporters, chanting together. Many thousands - possibly tens of thousands - in all.

I was about to head back when I saw an old tramp-like figure, burdened down with big plastic bags, who appeared to be heading into the fray. 

Fortunately he stopped at the edge of the march and, in a rather touching gesture,  proceeded to doff his cap and salute the protesters!

 

Maybe he was involved in the events of 1973?

Day 64-65. Keeping on the fringe of politics

Typical student day, saving money after yesterday's shenanigans: checked out the Parliament square (no protestors), wandered round some of the lesser tourist sights and snacked on rather good street food. 

While visiting Filopapou Hill, opposite the Acropolis, I encountered a fairly wild old guy who seemed to be taking a young person, possibly a relative, on the tour. However this seemed to involve a lot of shouting and generally being unpleasant - especially in his disparaging references to the fucking English who he wanted shot for what they'd done to the Greeks. I think he was talking mainly about the Elgin Marbles but, being English myself, didn't want to press him too closely on that one.

However it set me thinking. Next morning, I was the very first visitor to the Acropolis, and enjoyed wandering around the site which is impressive, if a bit chaotic, with thousands of fragments of carved stone and marble generally lying around all over the hillside. "Why are we not returning the Elgin marbles?" I thought to myself. 'They are doing lots of good conservation and restoration work and surely the least we can do is give back the originals."

Fortunately I kept my naive thoughts to myself until I had a chance to check out some of the arguments on Wikipedia (here), where it emerged that the Greeks want the originals back partly for symbolic reasons and partly so they can put them into their paid-entry Acropolis Museum, not back on to the original building. The British Museum puts up a fair case a. for the marbles having been legally acquired (ie not stolen) in the first place and b. for their remaining in a secure, managed environment where access is free.

Like the case of the recently released Croatian generals, I'm staying out of the political discussion but it's interesting to hear the local point of view.