Gallipoli peninsula & Anzac Cove

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Geo: 40.2229, 26.2807

Lisa went armed with a new box of tissues, unfortunately scented like aeroplane dunnies, we caught the ferry over to the Gallipoli peninsula. This is one of those spots that are on the 'must visit' list but is visited with some in trepidation. First stop was the tourist information centre that unfortunately like most tourist information centres we have stopped at was largely uninformative. The entire lower peninsular is declared a historic national park and we found our way without too much trouble to Anzac Cove. We wandered along what was a deserted peaceful beach the only reminders being serious concrete bunkers that looked very out of place. We then drove the Shorty up the cliff track above Anzac Cove to the Lone Pine cemetery where approximately 600 Australians are buried. The great thing about independent travel is we get to experience a lot of things on our own. Darren and I alone in such a place made for a very sobering morning, where we looked out from Lone Pine across the Anzac Cove and tried to visualise what it must have been really like.

We then drove around the Peninsular and passed quite a few large cemeteries. The funny thing is that this is the place that the Turk's showed the world how much they wanted to keep the invaders out of their country. It is a place of celebration for them and also a place where they to lost many soldiers.

We drove onward towards the Greek/Turkey border pondering on the Anzac's, the coming border officials and the flavour of the Turkish delights still in the box.

Exiting Turkey was a breeze getting into Greece was confusing. After immigration we went to customs, where the chap indicated we must wait for something….. thus we waited for approx 10 minutes out side a little window that suddenly opened and a voice was heard saying… go go finished… so without any further prompting we jumped in and floored (as much as one can in the Shorty). We did not have to pay anything, no carbon tax, no road tax, no baksheesh, no arrival tax, no tax tax, no just for the hell of it tax, no nothing…. Just go go..

Greece is a breath of fresh air, the coffee is great, the streets are organised, people pay attention to the road signs (which is unfortunately now not one of my strong points after Africa).. Lisa has pointed out that I have run 4 red lights and ignored a couple of road signs that went past so fast we could not even read them… A taxi driver in India once said to us that a red light only means ‘proceed with caution'…

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Photos

Lone Pine
Strange to see it in the flesh, normally seem on the TV. It was a somber place.