Turkey has long been one of my intended destinations, so it was great to arrive in Istanbul finally…only to be kept on the boat for 3 hours whilst Turkish customs officials finished their games of backgammon. Obviously the game had taken its toll, as the sleepy customs officer forgot to charge me for a visa. In an effort to put things right, I re-invested part of these savings into the Turkish economy and purchased a kebab.
Istanbul is a very busy city, and it did not take me long to get lost. After crossing a bridge that had 200 fisherman crammed on the edges (and seemingly 200 empty buckets next to them), I hustled and bustled my way through the crowded streets. I tried to make sense of the map at the tram stop, which sparked an alert around the streets that I was not just a tourist, but a lost one at that. A tap on the shoulder, and a Turkish man was asking where I needed to go. ‘Here we go’, I thought, thinking I'd be scammed (again), but I gave him the address of the hostel. He immediately gave me the clearest directions possible. I was now expecting the hand to come out for payment, Bulgarian style, but to my surprise all he said was ‘good luck, I must be off, enjoy your stay’. This was the first of many examples on the trip of how friendly and hospitable the Turkish people really are, despite the hordes of tourists that swamp their city. I really liked that.
Istanbul is a very busy city, and it did not take me long to get lost. After crossing a bridge that had 200 fisherman crammed on the edges (and seemingly 200 empty buckets next to them), I hustled and bustled my way through the crowded streets. I tried to make sense of the map at the tram stop, which sparked an alert around the streets that I was not just a tourist, but a lost one at that. A tap on the shoulder, and a Turkish man was asking where I needed to go. ‘Here we go’, I thought, thinking I'd be scammed (again), but I gave him the address of the hostel. He immediately gave me the clearest directions possible. I was now expecting the hand to come out for payment, Bulgarian style, but to my surprise all he said was ‘good luck, I must be off, enjoy your stay’. This was the first of many examples on the trip of how friendly and hospitable the Turkish people really are, despite the hordes of tourists that swamp their city. I really liked that.
One of my favourite parts of Istanbul was the Grand Bazaar and the Spice Bazaar. I found haggling with the shop keepers to be great fun. They sell absolutely everything; even a shop dedicated to leather baseball caps, which in the thirty-five degree heat, makes for a good baking tray for scones. I finally managed to get two t-shirts for at a bargain, after finding a shop-keeper who was a Galatasaray football fan, where Harry Kewell now plays. I told him I knew a few players, and would recommend they come and play for his team, and in return, he threw in a Galatasaray shirt with Kewell on the back
Little white lies DO pay off!
Little white lies DO pay off!
My hostel in Istanbul involved me sleeping in a 30 bed dorm in a shed. This was situated next to a family of wild cats who would meow methodically every 10 seconds, 24 hours a day. My iPod was enough to drown these out, but not so much the American girl, who had a full on argument at 2am with one of these cats. Her to the cat, “Shut up, we are trying to sleep”….the Cat “Meow….Meow….Meow”…..the girl “would you please shut up, I have to get up early tomorrow”…the cat “Meow…Meow…Meow”…the girl “you're not being fair, I am from Amerca, I’m going to call the authorities”…the cat “meow….meow…meow”….the girl goes and calls the authorities, the cat continues to meow for the rest of the week…30 bewildered and laughing roommates go back to sleep.
After a great week in Istanbul, it was time to move to the next place. I booked my bus, as was due to get picked up from the hostel by a shuttle at 7pm. As it reaches 7:30pm, the guy at the desk assures me not to worry, it is always late. At 7:45pm he says “Ill just ring up and see”. At 8pm, he gives me a beer and confesses he forgot to book the shuttle for me, but there is one coming. With my coach leaving at 8:30pm, this leaves me with the high probability of not getting my bus. A mini bus screeches to a halt and toots the horn. I pile in and before I am seated we are up to 60km/h and on two wheels around the corner. Some of the craziest driving I have witnessed follows, weaving in and out of traffic, banging on the horn every 5 seconds, hurling abuse out the window. 8:30pm has ticked past and we are not even close. He turns onto the motorway and gets up to 150km/h, overtakes a coach, honking the horn furiously at it and waving. He then moves up to 160km/h (which is when I decide a seatbelt is a good option) and then pulls over and flags the coach down. He casually says “here is your bus”. I get on to a sea of dirty looks, and get the last remaining seat next to a large Turkish man, who’s elbows fit snugly into my rib cage…the next 10 hours are hell!
CAPPADOCIA
I didn’t know a whole lot about Cappadocia before I came, but the contrast with Istanbul could not be greater. As we arrive, I see a vista of houses carved into rocks with fairy chimneys…it is like a set from the Flintstones. After getting a small nap in and icing my ribs from the fat Turkish bloke on the bus, I ventured out and had a look around. I grabbed a bite to eat at a small Turkish restaurant run by a family. When I ordered, the mother gave the son my money and my order. I see him go over the road into another restaurant and come back holding some dishes. They quickly transport the food to their plates, to cover their tracks, and serve it to me…compliments of the chef!
After a great week in Istanbul, it was time to move to the next place. I booked my bus, as was due to get picked up from the hostel by a shuttle at 7pm. As it reaches 7:30pm, the guy at the desk assures me not to worry, it is always late. At 7:45pm he says “Ill just ring up and see”. At 8pm, he gives me a beer and confesses he forgot to book the shuttle for me, but there is one coming. With my coach leaving at 8:30pm, this leaves me with the high probability of not getting my bus. A mini bus screeches to a halt and toots the horn. I pile in and before I am seated we are up to 60km/h and on two wheels around the corner. Some of the craziest driving I have witnessed follows, weaving in and out of traffic, banging on the horn every 5 seconds, hurling abuse out the window. 8:30pm has ticked past and we are not even close. He turns onto the motorway and gets up to 150km/h, overtakes a coach, honking the horn furiously at it and waving. He then moves up to 160km/h (which is when I decide a seatbelt is a good option) and then pulls over and flags the coach down. He casually says “here is your bus”. I get on to a sea of dirty looks, and get the last remaining seat next to a large Turkish man, who’s elbows fit snugly into my rib cage…the next 10 hours are hell!
CAPPADOCIA
I didn’t know a whole lot about Cappadocia before I came, but the contrast with Istanbul could not be greater. As we arrive, I see a vista of houses carved into rocks with fairy chimneys…it is like a set from the Flintstones. After getting a small nap in and icing my ribs from the fat Turkish bloke on the bus, I ventured out and had a look around. I grabbed a bite to eat at a small Turkish restaurant run by a family. When I ordered, the mother gave the son my money and my order. I see him go over the road into another restaurant and come back holding some dishes. They quickly transport the food to their plates, to cover their tracks, and serve it to me…compliments of the chef!
I decided to hire a motorbike for Cappadocia, and reserved one for the next day. I then went to bed dreaming of cruising around Easy Rider style …for some reason I had a moustache in my dream though…and leather pants. In the morning, when I went to get the bike, they apologised. They had run out of bikes, and presented me with a 100 cc scooter. Not quite what I had in mind, but none the less it proved to be good fun. It allowed me to explore the whole Cappadocia region in my own time, and stop to explore rock houses in the middle of no-where. At the end of the day, I fanged down the motorway at the scooter-wobbling speed of 100km/h, blazing past two bikers on Harleys…how embarrassing…for them.
The next day I decided to do a tour of the underground cities. There are 8 levels below the ground. Only 20% of it is open now, but it was still quite spacious, but not so much with all the tourists in there. One Italian girl suddenly decided she suffered from Claustrophobia, so we had to leave early…turns out she was just afraid of the dark. We then got back on the mini bus to go for lunch in a gorge. On the way, the host put on a Turkish CD, and suddenly all the bus was belly dancing down the aisle. It was suggested I also Belly Dance, but I explained that I can only do the Melbourne Shuffle dance move, and it would not be appropriate at this time. After the booing had stopped towards me, we arrived at the gorge, where we ate on a platform suspended over a creek.
OLYMPOS
My next stop was Olympos, a quiet little village on the south coast. Here all the hostels are tree houses, and they are decked out with hammocks. The hostels feed you massive breakfasts and dinners free of charge. This is where I fine tuned my backgammon game to a near fearsome level, whilst arguing with a naïve young Australian chap, who claimed Fosters was the best beer in the world. I suggested it’s a good beer for people who don’t like beer, and he went to bed mumbling something about me being a dickhead. I went to the main nightclub in Olympos with another Aussie called Aaron. When we got their, a Santa Clause lookalike (both in age and girth) had the run of the floor, with a lady on each arm. A true veteran! The dance floor had an unguarded open bonfire in the middle…there were a few close calls, but only leg hair singes were reported. Turkish health and safety is alive and well.
SELCUK & EPHESUS
The final stop in Turkey was Selcuk, and the nearby ancient city of Ephesus. This meant another overnight bus. Whilst waiting for the bus at the station in Antalya, two Turkish men seated next to me erupted into a big fist-fight over a seat. The bus station seemed relatively empty, but as soon as these two started going at it, masses of people came running from all directions to view the contest! The older guy defeated the younger one, and boarded his bus. The younger guy, bloody and beaten, sat down on the very seat he had fought for, whilst the by-standers pointed at him and mimicked some of the punches they had seen!
This time I had two seats to myself on the bus, and they served ice cream, tea and cake free of charge! We arrived into Selcuk at 5am. An Italian and Chilean girl I met on the bus also got off here, so we decided to wait at a coffee shop across the road for the local buses to start. The coffee shop was dimly lit and had about 12 Turkish men seated inside smoking shisher pipes, drinking coffee, and playing backgammon and cards. When we were seated, one by one, each man got up and came up to me with a sly grin and shook my hand. They were mighty proud of me for having brought my ‘two wives’ in at this hour of the morning. I was the town hero for 15 minutes there…if I had a pen, I probably would have signed some backgammon chips.
Turkey was a blast and one of the best trips I have done. The Balkans are coming soon!
My next stop was Olympos, a quiet little village on the south coast. Here all the hostels are tree houses, and they are decked out with hammocks. The hostels feed you massive breakfasts and dinners free of charge. This is where I fine tuned my backgammon game to a near fearsome level, whilst arguing with a naïve young Australian chap, who claimed Fosters was the best beer in the world. I suggested it’s a good beer for people who don’t like beer, and he went to bed mumbling something about me being a dickhead. I went to the main nightclub in Olympos with another Aussie called Aaron. When we got their, a Santa Clause lookalike (both in age and girth) had the run of the floor, with a lady on each arm. A true veteran! The dance floor had an unguarded open bonfire in the middle…there were a few close calls, but only leg hair singes were reported. Turkish health and safety is alive and well.
SELCUK & EPHESUS
The final stop in Turkey was Selcuk, and the nearby ancient city of Ephesus. This meant another overnight bus. Whilst waiting for the bus at the station in Antalya, two Turkish men seated next to me erupted into a big fist-fight over a seat. The bus station seemed relatively empty, but as soon as these two started going at it, masses of people came running from all directions to view the contest! The older guy defeated the younger one, and boarded his bus. The younger guy, bloody and beaten, sat down on the very seat he had fought for, whilst the by-standers pointed at him and mimicked some of the punches they had seen!
This time I had two seats to myself on the bus, and they served ice cream, tea and cake free of charge! We arrived into Selcuk at 5am. An Italian and Chilean girl I met on the bus also got off here, so we decided to wait at a coffee shop across the road for the local buses to start. The coffee shop was dimly lit and had about 12 Turkish men seated inside smoking shisher pipes, drinking coffee, and playing backgammon and cards. When we were seated, one by one, each man got up and came up to me with a sly grin and shook my hand. They were mighty proud of me for having brought my ‘two wives’ in at this hour of the morning. I was the town hero for 15 minutes there…if I had a pen, I probably would have signed some backgammon chips.
Turkey was a blast and one of the best trips I have done. The Balkans are coming soon!
