Turkey

Merhaba!

After finding that my first choice for a hostel was now the Grand Palace Hotel I found success at the Mavi Guesthouse. Out of the dorm window is the Aya Sofya-and the Four Seasons. Can't beat that. It can get chilly at night, but the common area is warm and it's a great place for meeting fellow travelers. Turns out several arrived the same day as myself and were staying for a while. Four are Australian and were at the tail end of a grand adventure driving through Russia, several of the 'Stans, Georgia and Turkey. They strongly advise that you don't visit Azerbaijan. It's like the Eagles song, 'Hotel California'- you can visit anytime you like, but you can never leave. Basically, the border guards held them captive for 12 hours as their car visas were set to expire in the hopes that they would pay, pay, pay. They got out, obviously, and without paying. Miyako is from Japan, but working in Bonn, Germany. Andrew is an American wending his way to Iran(?). Kenny is from China who was flying back home after a trip through the 'Stans. Georgia is an art history student from Rome who kept putting off her trip to Romania because she liked Istanbul so much. Between all of us we found great kebabs, checked out the sights and had a lot of laughs. Can't ask for much more when hanging out with your fellow travelers.

Sultanhamet in Istanbul is ground zero for tourists because it has the greatest concentration of places worth seeing: Aya Sofya, the Blue Mosque (Sultanhamet Camii), Topkapi Palace, the Grand Bazaar, the Spice Bazaar and Suleymaniye Camii. You really can't leave town without seeing all of these places and just getting lost in the maze of streets. (I'd also suggest bringing a tape recorder so you can take back the sounds of Istanbul. Hearing the calls of the muezzins back home will work just as well as a time machine.) I won't go into detail about the places because you just have to visit on your own, and plenty of people have written plenty of words about them. The jewels in the Topkapi Palace have to be seen to be believed, though. They give new meaning to the word encrusted and the phrase 'bigger than your eyeball'.

Aside from the big ticket items in Istanbul I highly recommend visiting Suleymaniye Camii on Friday at noon. The rest of Istanbul is secular, but ironically enough ground zero for the observant Muslim is this mosque smack up against the Grand Bazaar. For someone who doesn't have a mosque in their neighborhood, it's a wonderful way to get a sense of the religion as practiced by the common man. Go before noon so you can look inside the mosque, then step outside and watch the tide of worshippers sweep into the courtyard. Watch without giggling as men wobble while taking off their shoes to wash their feet at the rows of faucets (a cleansing ritual called wudhu). Every spare bit of space inside and outside is taken up by kneeling men as the imam intones the prayers. Then watch in wonder as all the men in unison do a little routine with their heads at the end of prayers before rushing back to their shops where the clang of shutters opening in the Grand Bazaar signals the end of the spell that was cast over the mosque for that one hour.

If the touts start to wear on you (or the rain stops and you finally get a sunny day) hop a ferry and take a cruise around the Princes' Islands like Georgia, Miyako & I did. The only people who are allowed to sell you anything are the ones selling Turkish tea or the sesame pretzels that are ubiquitous on the streets. Pulling away from shore you get unparalleled views of the hills that you previously knew about only because of all the uphill streets you'd climbed. Minarets soar, and so do all the seagulls who like to spin on the winds created above them.

This is neither here nor there, but I was slightly disappointed to find seagulls in Turkey. I was hoping for something more exotic, but...seagulls. Californians view seagulls like New Yorkers view pigeons...vermin with wings. Anyhoo, they've gotten damned good at plucking food thrown up into the air: A fellow tourist was tossing the remains of his pretzel overboard and the seagulls were catching it like dogs catching a bone that's been tossed to them. OK. I'll bump up Turkish seagulls a step above pigeons since they can do tricks.

Back to the Princes' Islands...There are a couple of islands that people visit because they (supposedly) are vehicle-free. A taxi stand here means you're going to find a horse and cart. Another great reason to take this trip-no traffic noise and pollution. These islands mainly serve as second vacation homes for Istanbullus, so it was especially quiet in November. One more reason to go visit is the people. After the rough and tumble of Istanbul touts you assume that nothing is for free or done out of the kindness of their hearts. Not so on the Islands. Though they get plenty of visitors during the summer, they seem to have had better success keeping their hospitality separate from their business acumen. A pastry shop owner asked us if we'd like tea with out sweets, had them delivered when we said yes, please and wouldn't take our money for them. A caretaker at the abandoned monastery on Heybeliada showed us around saying only, "No photographs. No money." This is Turkey when you get away from the tourist areas.

After seven days in Istanbul I finally decided it was time to check out more of Turkey. Taking my Istanbullu friend Nedi's advice I headed to Cappadocia- the land of beautiful horses. (I met Nedi in Vietnam back in 2003.) Located in central Turkey this is where wind and rain eroded the land into canyons and fairy chimneys. Frankly, to the rest of us they look like the male organ of a Titan, but we maintain decorum because they are viewed in an animist/pagan manner by the locals. The early inhabitants of the area used these fairy chimneys as their homes. They carved out the tuffa, built ladders and shafts with toe holds to get into them and even housed livestock in some. A few people still live in these cave houses. They're a wee bit dangerous because the erosion that created these chimneys is still at work. Walking the valleys you see plenty of chimneys that split apart and the rooms are open to the sky. Whole towns have been evacuated from them, though many are still deemed safe enough for the tourists. hmmm. Ironically, the ruins that we all come out to explore are the work of early Christians. They chose this area because it was remote even in their time, and it would allow them to practice in relative peace. As a matter of fact, the Open-Air Museum, which is the first stop for everybody, is a religious complex filled with churches, a monastery and a nunnery.

On my second day I rented a mountain bike along with Billy from Scotland and Griz from America. We hatched a plan to bike the Pigeon Valley, but if there's one thing we learned early on is that there are no decent maps of the valleys. Add to this the fact that the maps that do exist have names that no one uses or are mislabeled. We referred to them only to get a general bearing. This after we never found our trail-head, needlessly wheezed up out of the valley in which Goreme sits and found ourselves halfway to Uchisar, the next town over. We never found the onyx factory that was supposed to be the landmark for the Pigeon Valley trail-head, but we did find a topaz factory and another trail-head behind it, so we took that one. What do they say about making lemonade out of lemons? We somehow manufactured Champagne.

Love Valley is supposedly impossible with bikes. When we stopped to ask people about Pigeon Valley they'd invariably say, "But, you can't take bikes into Love Valley." "Oh, yeah. We're not going there." Well, we did end up there, but unwittingly. And, I can tell you it is doable. I will even go so far as to say it's a must do. Sure, there were plenty of places where we had to get off and push our bikes through low-growing scrub. Sure, there were tunnels that even we were barely able to crab-walk through. Sure, there were uphills that not even a BMX rider could tackle. But, there was always a way around the tunnels, and you could push through vegetation and up hills. Plus, we didn't see another soul until we'd gotten back onto a paved road, even though we were often bushwhacking our way past vineyards and orchards. Between the scenery, the company and the notion that this was supposed to be impossible it was the best adventure ever.

The next day it snowed. I was hoping for it, so I wasn't unhappy. I was actually worried it wouldn't be enough to cover the ground and stay. No worries. It was enough. Billy, Griz and I did some shopping and encountered Crazy Suleyman. Let's get this straight. All carpet salesmen are like snake oil salesmen. But Suleyman is in a category all his own. Let's call it insane. Suleyman comes off as being a nice enough guy offering tea and his nephew Mehmet in marriage (Only half kidding, which should have been the first clue. 'Danger, Will Robinson!'). The minute Billy told me to sleep on it before buying anything Suleyman went ballistic. It happened so fast I felt like I'd blinked and fallen into an alternate universe. Griz, who'd stepped out of the room only to return as the fireworks were in full swing said the same thing. We got out of there before Suleyman throttled Billy, and vice versa. I gave Suleyman 10YTL to ease us out the door and left him thinking I'd come back to buy some kilims the next day, but needless to say I never did. Billy, if you're reading this I got my 10YTL back. :) Crazy Suleyman owns the han that sits on the corner near the otogar and is covered in carpets all the way up to the second floor. Shop there at your own risk. You've been warned.

Billy and Griz went their separate ways, which left me to explore on my own. I spent the next day hiking the Rose Valley and enjoying the snowfall. It was perfect. I would drop into a glen and it would be a winter wonderland with only my footprints. I wasn't alone for long, though. A guy was on my tail and he passed me as I was taking pics. I caught up to him not long after and we fell into step the rest of the way to Cavusin. Turns out he's from Arkansas going to college in Tennessee and doing a semester in Athens. "Isn't there a law that Arkansans can't leave the country?" To his credit he took it and wasn't offended. He knew what I was saying. 90% of American backpackers are from California, Oregon and Washington. The rest are from New York and the northeast. Ladies, if you're interested in a rough-looking Josh Grobin he's your man. We took turns shoe skiing down hills and chatting till he headed back to work on a report. I kept on to Cavusin where I climbed up to the abandoned part of town for a nice view of the valley.

How's this for random. After climbing down from old Cavusin I was haggling for some glass evil eyes when the guy asked the inevitable "Where are you from ?" "America." "No. But you look like..." "My parents are from Japan." "Aahhh." He says, "I speak a little Japanese," in Japanese, which has happened before. I say, "You're very good." in Japanese, and next thing I know I'm having a conversation in Japanese with this Turkish evil eye salesman who speaks better formal Japanese than me! Which isn't really saying much, but I can tell you I was scrambling to keep up. And, this is how I really found out that the Japanese are keen on Cappadocia. There are so many coming to Turkey that guides regularly go to Japan to learn the language in order to capture that lucrative market. I talked to several who had plans to go to Japan in the coming months, including my evil eye salesman.

Over the next few days I hiked some more and caught up on e-mail. Anatolya Pansion has free internet, FYI, and a dog, Pasa. There's nothing like a dog to make you feel more at home. I considered going out on a hot air balloon as an early birthday present to myself, but saved it for next time. The weather went south again, so I didn't feel too bad. It didn't help, either, though, because I signed up for a tour of the southwest area of Cappadocia in order to check out an underground city and the Ihlara Valley, which are trickier to get to on your own during the off-season.

In addition to the cave houses Cappadocia has roughly 36 underground cities. Two are open to the public, of which I visited Derinkuyu. These were built to house people in times of war, which back then seemed to be quite often. The tuffa from which these are carved is soft upon first carving into it, but it hardens with exposure to air. These clever people built wells, ventilations shafts, a common kitchen (too many chimneys belching smoke from the ground is bound to make the enemy suspicious) and a holding room for sewage. They even learned to use linseed oil for their lamps because it gives not only light, but heat. Instead of doors, they used what look like millstones to roll across tunnels. These can only be moved from the inside. There were wine cellars and stables for livestock (sheep, goats). Derinkuyu has more than the eight levels that are open to the public, but the lower levels haven't been excavated, which I find incredible.

The Ihlara Valley is touted as the most beautiful in Cappadocia, but it's going to lose that title if folks keep tossing their blue plastic bags into the river. This is something I've seen countless times in countless countries. A natural attraction is touted for its beauty, but when you get there the amount of plastic bottles and bags littering the place just turns you off and aggravates. I would urge all of you to avoid using plastic bags if at all possible while abroad, or at home for that matter. Chuck it into the daypack that you're carrying. As for plastic bottles, bring a water purifier or recycle one bottle and drink tap. Aside from Albania I can personally attest to the fact that the water is safe to drink in all the countries visited in this blog. People, that plastic is not biodegradable in any way, shape or form. The cockroaches will be using them as homes a million years from today.

That said, be sure you experience a hamam while in Turkey. It will scrub away all that aggravation accumulated from nasty touts and garbage. On Nedi's advice I went to the one in Urgup, which is a town to the east of Goreme. It's small, family-owned and fairly old (over a hundred). 15YTL gets you a full scrub-down and massage. Your attendant will helpfully show you all the dead skin he's taken off of you on his wash mitt. I especially liked the sauna as it was blustery outside. I got on my night bus back to Istanbul feeling mighty clean.

I end Turkey with a reminder that discount airlines have a 15kg max for luggage. I didn't know this, and it caused undue stress as I tried to leave Turkey. This after having an airport shuttle company employee try to bamboozle me into an overpriced taxi. The bastard was in cahoots with the taxi drivers who circle you like vultures as you wait for the shuttle bus to open up. Here's how it went down. It was raining cats and dogs. The taxi drivers told the waiting crowd that there was a massive pile-up on the highway. The shuttle would take a few hours to get through it. If you gathered a few of your fellow passengers you could make it in a taxi. Because they have a magic carpet that can fly over the wreck? Who knows. Then, as the shuttle bus departure time got closer the shuttle bus company employee came out and said whoever was trying to make it for an 11 am flight wouldn't make it on the shuttle bus. Take a taxi. I bit the bullet and took the shuttle bus as did two fellow Milan-flight passengers. What accident? There's no accident. Late? Are you kidding? We were on time. A curse on all Turkish tour industry workers. I've never experienced anything like their outright lying. Taxi drivers are automatically consigned to hell, so I won't even bother with them.

As for discount airlines and Sabhia Airport, well, let's just say airport security means something else over there. If you're over the luggage weight limit, which I was, you can either pay 10 euro for each kilo over or ask somebody in line to carry the extra kilos on board for you as hand luggage. This last option is put out there by the clerks I'll have you know. Whipping around I landed on a trio of young English-speakers. Canadians. True to stereotype they are nice. One of them turned out to have the same weight issue. Omar and I bonded while having to reconfigure our luggage in the middle of the check-in area. He was over the weight limit coming to Istanbul and hadn't been charged, so he was irate about the random enforcement of the rule. I got on board that boat when my clerk charged me for the 2 extra kilos, but Omar's clerk let him slide with 3 extra kilos. Absolute BS. And, the kicker? The plane was half empty. That thought still sends me into a fit. All that rigamarole and 'those are the rules' and the plane is HALF EMPTY???? Don't fly MyAir.

Visit Turkey because it's perfectly safe to travel there as long as you follow normal precautions: no dark alleys, get your own drinks, carry your money on your body, etc. You're more likely to encounter pickpockets in Florence than in Istanbul. But, remember that Istanbul touts are not your friends.

Gula gula!

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