WHERE EAST MEETS WEST

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Sometimes a cliché is the best description. Istanbul is where east meets west, geographically, politically, socially and spiritually.



For over 40 years the Turkish wanted to be European. They became a secular republic, they built tree lined boulevards and developed a welfare system. They courted Euro-powers and were promised inclusion in the Euro zone but repeatedly denied access.



Now they’ve decided they’re sick of sucking up to past enemies. They’ve survived the global financial crisis without recession, have a burgeoning economy, low unemployment and a young, well educated population. So they’re turning their backs on the ailing west and looking east towards developing economies such as China.



We learned all this from Alp our tour guide who was rabidly patriotic and more than a little defensive when Rhys asked awkward questions about religion and bacon.



Istanbul is chaotic, exotic and intoxicating – especially the raki. Crowding down the cobbled streets you’ll see a fascinating mix of women in full burkha, university hipsters, young girls in the latest (often revealing) fashion, families, old people in traditional dress and tourists from all over the world. Buildings are a combination of modern, faded elegance and due-for-demolition. Down the back alleys you’d think you were in Italy or France but with four times the number of mangy cats, eight times the cigarette butts and no concept of weeding.



The Bosphorus Straits cut the city in half geographically – the European west where tourists go and the eastern Asian side where they don’t. The western side is divided again by the waters of the Golden Horn into the new city (which looked pretty old to us) and the extremely old city which holds all the tourist treasures such as Topkapi Palace, Hagia Sophia and the Sultanahmet or blue mosque which isn’t blue either inside or out.



My view of mosques is the same as many people’s view of castles – seen one you’ve seen them all. Even the much vaunted blue mosque was a not particularly memorable experience especially as I was made to wear a swathe of blue sheeting round my waist even though I’d carefully chosen a sleeved-dress which came down past my knees. I’d read women were not to wear trousers but those in the group with shorts, including the men, were allowed through - so who knows - Allah moves in mysterious ways. Along with the heat of my headscarf, the reek of hundreds of sweaty feet forcibly separated from their shoes and giggling Asians taking v-sign selfies, it was a distractingly hot and unpleasant experience.



Much better was the gorgeous Topkapi Palace, seat of the Ottoman Empire, where the Turkish military band were performing for the crowds. They were very loud, quite scary and absolutely fabulous – especially when the singers brought out tall staffs with a cute collection of bells on top and beat them in time, exactly like lagerphones.



Our tour travelled through the northern part of Turkey which is green and mountainous, watered by rain from the Black Sea. But once you pass the capital Ankara (where we visited the stunning museum and mausoleum of revered ‘father of modern Turkey’ Mustafa Kamel Ataturk) it becomes increasingly arid, barren and boring. Similarities with inland Australia can be made, especially when you pass a large salt lake, remnant of an even larger one which created the Anatolian plateau.



The single area of fascinating geographic divergence in this rolling grey landscape is Cappadocia. Formed by lava and ash from a volcano which last erupted eight thousand years ago, it has eroded in otherworldly ways, creating phallic towers, cave-filled rock castles and jagged mountains. Hittites, early settlers in Turkey, first took advantage of natural caves in the soft, easily carved rock, but the lasting legacy for tourists are the cave cathedrals created by early Christians escaping persecution by Romans.

What looks to be merely door holes cut into cliff faces open up into amazing mini cathedrals, early ones decorated very plainly but some of the later ones covered in still brightly coloured frescoes depicting the life of Christ. There are hundreds of these cave churches which were used to teach Christianity and you can visit a selection at the World Heritage Goreme open air museum.



The other oddity is so called fairy chimneys – towers of the soft rock saved from erosion by a cap of harder basalt and carved into homes, some of which are still lived in, many turned into accommodation. The towns and villages in the area are now consumed not by the worship of Christ but the worship of tourism. People come to see the dramatic landscape, how man has shaped it and for the ultimate tourist trip – a ride in a hot air balloon over the magic moonscape. It is true – you should not make a visit to Cappadocia without taking a balloon ride.



Although we’d lived Hamilton for over 20 years l’d never gone up in a balloon so this was a doubly special trip – you get to see the weird lunar landscape in its entirety before you walk around its enchanting details.



Turkey is clearly forward looking but its ancient past is inescapable. As the source of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers it’s proud to be the cradle of civilization, traversed by the silk road and with many remnants of Roman Byzantium, the Ottoman empire and earlier civilizations at Hierapolis and Ephesus.



Although he professed not to be religious, our tour guide often talked about Islam and said “as a Muslim I would…”



In the blue mosque Rhys asked a question about the similarities between Jewish and Muslim culture and why they didn’t ‘get on’. Silly question.



He received a snapped answer that any conflict between Muslims and Jews was not about religion. Riiiiight.



As a guide he was doing a good PR job on Islam as well as Turkey as a powerful nation. I think the patience of the whole group was tried a little though by a visit to the mausoleum and museum of Mevlana, the founder of the Sufi religion (whirling dervishes). Our guide explained the basis of Sufism- that you have to give up your ego and live a life knowing you will take nothing with you to the grave. I wanted to ask how come then, that a huge mosque complex was now dedicated to him with an extremely beautiful and elaborate gold and jewel encrusted tomb and giant turquoise minaret erected as his ‘gravestone’ and a whole new mosque had to be built next to it. But I thought better of it.



From the bus we’d been seeing huge quarries, most likely marble, on the mountains either side of the Meandros river valley (where the word meander comes from). I saw a startling white slash down the hillside about 10 km in the distance, roughly where I was expecting our next stop to be, but thought it must be another quarry. Pamukkale, site of the ancient Greek city of Hierapolis, was built right next to the most stunning natural formation I’ve ever seen, which turned out to be the startling white slash.



The valley runs along a fault line and thermal springs pour mineral rich waters down the hillside, which over millennia have created terrace formations of glistening white, containing turquoise pools of soft natural bath salts, in the manner of the Pink and White Terraces.



When we visited the site early next day it was hard to know what to focus on - the romantic ruins of an ancient city where archaeological digs are ongoing, the gorgeous lush tropical gardens fed by warm mineral rich water or half a kilometre of blazing white frozen waterfalls, valleys and promontories with stalagmites of lime making fantastic formations. There was also a swimming pool complex developed from the ancient baths, complete with fallen columns and capitals to rest on.



We only had a short time there but it was a fabulous place for an all day visit, with a dip in the modern pool complex after trudging up the hill to view the theatre and stunning view of the terraces and valley beyond.



The public used to have free reign to take the waters but that was destroying the formations so there is only one area where people are channelled in a long line to paddle in the sludgy residue. This is good because you can take amazing photos of the terraces without the view being destroyed by the sight of huge middle-aged eastern European women in bikinis and bathing caps.



Next was Izmir, birthplace of Homer when it used to be called Smyrna. Now it’s the third largest city with four million. But we didn’t have time to explore, although I found our hotel garden had the ruins of Agamemnon’s pools which now provided the gorgeously hot water for the hotel Jacuzzis.



Our reason to be there was to visit the ancient city of Ephesus which was beautiful despite the hoards of tourists. If we’d done our research properly we would have known it holds the theatre where Paul gave his lecture to the Ephesians - we hadn’t so it was a nice bonus. Who knew Turkey was the source of so much history?



Bergama likewise is now the name of ancient Pergamon where they invented vellum as they had a wonderful library but no local papyrus to make paper for scrolls. We get our word parchment from Pergamon. There were lots of other facts but they involved numbers so that was the only one I remembered.



At the Hospital of Asklepion it was interesting to learn that people have been medicinally ripped off for thousands of years. It was a spa town with private rooms, herbal remedies and chanting to cure body-mind and soul.



I was not looking forward to the last day visiting a string of ANZAC memorials. War tourism is not my thing. But Anzac beach is a really beautiful and peaceful place, with calm clear Aegean waters lapping the edge of a national park. The memorials are stark, elegant and restrained, most with beautiful views. The only uncomfortable interlude was a motley collection of tacky souvenir shops at Canuck Bayiri, (Chunuk Bair) which being the highest point on the peninsula has amazing views.



I heard one of the vendors shouting out something that sounded like ‘vegemite on toast’ and thought I was mishearing Turkish, but on further exploration found the entrepreneurial locals had included this Australian delicacy in their selection of refreshing tourist snacks. Several of the Aussies on our tour had their own tubes of vegemite they brought down to breakfast without any sense of shame or taste “because we couldn’t survive without it”. Why Australians are weird #307.



There was theoretically one more day to our ten day tour but the itinerary consists of ‘After breakfast transfer to the airport’ which was a variation of ‘after arrival enjoy a day at leisure’ both of which mean the tour company can charge you for an extra day but do no work for it.



Fortunately we didn’t have to transfer to the airport as we’d sensibly booked a couple of extra days in Istanbul old town before flying to Greece for our next ten day tour.



A rare pleasure for Kiwi travellers is to be in a place where our dollar is worth more than the local currency – two Turkish lira to one NZ$. It was hard to resist the temptations of the Grand Bazaar with its airy architecture, glittering jewellery and clothes that get cheaper as you go to walk away.



Instead we spent our money on food – lots of it – shish kebaps, lamb cutlets, calamari, baklava…mmm…baklava...

It took us a while to twig you can bargain for food as well, especially in the areas around hotels where all the lovely cobbled streets around are lined with restaurants competing for attention. At minimum your humus, desert, watermelon and tea or coffee should be free.



Turkey – 70 million people with 16 million in crazy Istanbul topped up by tons of tourists. Land of mosques and mystery, carpets and cheap clothing, tiny glasses of tea and muddy coffee, yogurt and watermelon. And source of more history than I ever knew existed.

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