"Turkish Delights and other things of a Similar Nature"

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Life has been too easy for too long. I met a black cat in a park and we lay together, strangely at peace as throngs of tourists surged past. We were lying in the grounds of Topkapi Palace with nothing but the clear blue sky above. I had walked myself half to death, 5 1/2 hours in the succocating heat. The previous night I thought I might stop breathing altogether, trapped in a basement dorm with two non-descript strangers. It had been a long day indeed. With only a single nights reprieve in the past three from a succession of Bavarian Beer Fests, the surprise to which I awoke to the sound of my alarm telling me I had a flight to catch brought instant awareness to the fact that I had overdone it again. The inebriated blur of three or more train connections and a flight despatching me in yet another foreign destination, coupled with next to no ability to take control of my senses had me completely spent by the time I finally reached my destination, Sultanhamet. I emptied 1 1/2 litres of water into my dehydrated insides and collapsed on the upstairs balcony, with a view over the Bosphorus and not a thought in the world. I was awakened some time later by eerie prayer time wailing that was booming from a nearby Mosque's loudhailer. Where the hell am I....??!!

Instanbul is a vibrant bustling metropolis that tries hard to assault your every sense. In actual fact it's a bit like two cities in one, divided by the Bosphorus, a busy strait which connects the Sea of Marmara to the Black Sea. Sultanhamet is a Unesco World Heritage Site with all manner of strange archeological treasures. Beyoglu, on the other side of the strait or the "Asian" side is the new city and is where most of the nightlife goes down. Instanbul's total population tops 16 million. A three day orientation was more than enough as I put the Lonely Planet guide to one side and found myself in a travel shop. The following day I found myself on a bus heading off for a trip to Gallipoli to Olympus, taking in the sights and sounds of Troy, Ephesus and Fethiye along the way before bussing back to Kusadasi to board a ferry to the Greek Islands.

The various tours I embarked on served to remind me how little I knew of European history and I'm sure I would be none the wiser had I not done them.

Turkey turned on the heat. Heat like I've never experienced before. In Ephesus I'm told the mercury momentarily brushed 50 deg C. Underpants are a compulsory omission from your daily attire, the relief upon finding air-conditioning in your dorm like finding the holy grail.

The trip to Gallipoli had me full of intrigue as the bus wound its way down the coast from Instanbul. As I gazed at the dry barren landscape along the banks of the Gallopoli peninsula I tried to imagine how it might have been here 90 odd years ago in 1915. The bus arrived at the Gallipoli Museum and we were provided with an account of the battle for the Dardenelles as the 8 month Gallipoli conflict was known. Every family in Turkey at this time was directly affected by this conflict. Something like 250,000 Turkish lives were lost along with 15,000 Australians and 2,500 Kiwi's. After a slightly rushed look throught the museum, we boarded the bus again and descended a further 2km down to Anzac Cove, a non-descript sort of a beach with a hge history. The events surrounding the fist landing of Allied troops which seemed perhaps the most incredulous to me at least, was that despite a miscalculation (some say a strategic change of plan) with the landing spot that saw the Anzacs go ashore some 1km to the west of the intended spot and faced with unfriendly terrain rising steeply from the beach, they managed within some 15 minutes to make around 250 metres inland and about an hour later the first troops had arrived at Narrow Neck, only shouting distance from Chanuk Bair, and that was as far as they got as they were repelled by the Turks and forced to dig in where eight months of trench warfare ensued. At times the opposing front line trenches were as close as 7 metres apart. Lone Pine, the Turkish Memorial and Chanuk Bair along with Anzac Cove all have memorials dedicated to the soldiers who fought and lost their lives.

The Meditteranean Coast beckoned and I wasn't entirely sure what to expect. the only thing to disappoint was the sheer number of tourists all clambering around and over each other to try and gain prime advantage for viewing or taking pictures....or whatever. The dramatic coastline, especially between Fethiye and Antayla makes a tremendous natural statement. Massive mountain peaks covered in a patchwork of rock and shrub plunge seaward before they disappear into the crystal clear Mediterrenean. The earth is cinder dry.

It's beginning to impact on me just how crowded Europe is compared to home, even with such an expansive land mass. Beachcombing the Med you also notice how fat people float effortlessly. Being exposed to many foreign languages in such a short period is also having an interesting effect. I'm starting to believe I can understand what people are saying.....almost like they are speaking English.

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