Travels with Chris: Last weeks in Turkey

21/07/2012 - Tabriz, Iran

Pamukkale

Except for the time that my mom flew to Southern Africa for a two week whirlwind hitchhiking experience, I have been solo on the roads for my entire trip. That's why when Chris, a good friend from university, dropped me a line with thoughts on coming to Turkey, I welcomed the idea of a physics-minded travel partner wholeheartedly. Chris had spent the last few months making his way around the Mediteranean with the idea of heading across North Africa eastbound from Morocco. However the all too common travel barrier - visas - blocked his way, and he was unable to get the Libya sticker. Thus he was forced to devise a new plan: complete his Med circle the other way, starting from Turkey; our travel routes would cross perfectly, and we met in Denizli, western Turkey, with the idea to east. 

Although all of Turkey is great all the time, summer in the west of the country can mean too many tourists for the tastes of two off-the-beaten-path travelers, but the east remains relatively unvisited. So after a quick visit to Pamukkale's white calcium mountain, Chris and I headed for the eastbound highway with our thumbs out. I must add here that this first hitched ride together brought about some happy, slightly ironic reminiscing: it was more than five years earlier, on a small dusty back road in central Mexico, where together we experienced hitchhiking for the first time. That was before the days I knew about Couchsurfing or had the confidence or knowhow for 21st century hitching and covert camping, so we were traveling the 'normal' way, taking an impromptu reading-week vacation to Mazatlan, Mexico. One afternoon we took a small local bus to a village we had read about a few hours outside of Mazatlan. It was a great day, but when we went to catch the bus back it never came. Admittedly, if another option had existed, we would taken it, and my life might be very different right now, but we were stranded with the one option of reaching out and hoping for the kindness of a stranger. We stuck out our thumbs. I don't remember the name of the man in the beat-up old truck who picked us up, but I do remember that he had a heart of gold and genuinely wanted to help us, chatting about his life and then refusing the payment we tried to give him afterwards. I had no idea at the time that he would be the first of thousands of wonderful people who would offer me rides from the side of dusty roads all across the world, but I have always remembered his kindness and the perfect introduction he gave me to something that would play a significant role in my life.

Windy campsite.

Asya and Erdogan

Flash back to the present when both Chris and I have just a little more confidence in our hitchhiking ability, and we were eager to try out pairs-hitching in this part of the world. The first day we passed endless flat farmlands and then camped among shrub-like trees in the foothills of some mountains. The second day was more scenic, passing through those mountains and then having a lunch of fresh apricots, mulberries, and way too many cherries next to the beautiful .. Lake. Our last ride of day two turned into one of those great nights that only hitchhiking can bring about. We got a ride with Erdogan, who spoke no English but was friendly and patient with my fledgling Turkish. An hour into the ride, after I had explained to him that Chris and I were long term travelers and happily spent our nights camping under the stars, Erdogan told us that he and his girlfriend would like to come camp with us and that he knew the perfect place. I found that request a little strange and wasn't sure I had understood him properly, but my instinct told me it was no problem and to go with the flow. Sure enough, we stopped in Erdogan's hometown of Karaman, and his lovely girlfriend Aysa met us with a steaming hot bag that would be our picnic dinner. We drove to an isolated scenic hilltop a few kilometers off the main highway, where the wind blew strong across the plain and the stars glared brightly overhead. Aysa had brought us that famous Konya dish, Etli Ekmek, and as we dined in camping style we laughed and told the best stories our language barrier would allow. Turns out that Aysa and Erdogan are forbidden lovers of sorts, and their only rendezvous option is driving to isolated spots in the countryside to meet and spend time together, which is why they had both jumped at the opportunity Chris and I presented. They stayed together on the hilltop, laughing and cuddling in the back of their van, long after Chris and I had retired to out tents for the night. Romance is endemic in Turkey.

Day three was a normal hitching day, had about 500 Km to go in order to get to our Couchsurfing host in Adana for the night. During our first ride of the day we were surprised that there was another hitchhiker already in the car, and a Turkish one nonetheless. I had met other Turkish people who claimed to be hitchhikers, but it was fun to meet one on the road; he had even made himself a T-shirt with a photo of his own thumb printed on the front. Cute. Unfortunately once our driver dropped us off halfway to our destination it became apparent that hitchhiking in groups of three in a fairly remote area can be difficult, so after waiting unsuccessfully for awhile we said our goodbyes and parted ways. Chris and I quickly found a ride south.

I want my thumb on a T-shirt.

Beach!

This second ride of the day took us back to the coast and unexpectedly yet conveniently dropped us off next to the Maiden's Castle beach, giving us the perfect excuse to spend the afternoon lying in the sun. For fear of seeming too lazy we did try to swim out to the island Byzantine-castle, but decided halfway to turn back for fear of getting run over by a jet ski or the ubiquitous banana-boat. 

Maiden's Castle

When we finally got to Adana we met Erdal and his family, who we would stay with for the weekend. Erdal showed us the city through the ages, from the Roman era bridge ("the oldest bridge still in use"), to the old bazar, to the beautiful university, obligatorily huge mosque, and of course the ultra-modern shopping mall. His mom and dad took wonderful care of us, making us feel like honorary members of the family, and even brought us to a few family gatherings where enough delicious Turkish cuisine was laid out to feed a whole village. Even with the great days in the city, the highlight of our time with Erdal was undoubtably our overnight castle trip. Browsing Wikitravel Chris had found the locations of some impressive looking castles in the area, and since Erdal had just bought himself his first-ever set of camping gear, we were eager to accompany him on his first-ever camping experience.

Adana University

Adana Mosque

Food!

Yilankale, spot Chris.

Yilankale castle wall.

Both the castles we visited were incredible, and completely tourist-free. The first, Yilankale ("Snake Castle") was atop a hill and gave ample opportunity for scrambling to the top of the lookout towers to enjoy the 360 degree views of the surrounding countryside. We were all extremely impressed, but arriving after dark at the other castle, Anavarza, and spending the night camping with a hoard of mosquitoes, we woke up with the rising sun to have our expectations blown out of the water. Anavarza is the site of a giant fortress that runs along the ridge of the sole mountain sticking out of a vast plain. Over the years it has been under the control of almost every major power that the region has fallen under, from the Romans and Persians to the Byzantines, Arabs, Armenians and Ottoman, and the resulting variety of architectural styles stand out tellingly. The field directly below the fortress is enclosed by the characteristic Roman triple wall, and the mostly unexcavated ruins inside that wall boast churches, temples and baths, among other relics. We drove through the huge Roman gate granting access to the field, and were amazed that locals had used some of the ancient bricks to construct their gardens and goat pens. A local herder who had been walking his cows through the site came over to talk to us and didn't hide his frustration at the lack of preservation that the site receives. Out of his pocket he showed us a few Roman coins that he said ground squirrels sometimes dig up; the images of the emperors were still clearly visible. He said other herders had made good money selling the coins and jewelry they had found over the years, although some had gone a step too far and tried to carve away inscriptions and mosaics on the old walls in order to turn a profit. Climbing to the mountaintop fortress and sitting atop the highest tower was an unparalleled experience; Erdal, Chris and I each found our own lookout spot, and spent a good amount of time taking in the incredible feeling, which inevitably led to singing into the wind at the top of our lungs. Anavarza should beyond doubt be a UNESCO Heritage site; it is mind-boggling that so few tourists visit the site, but downright disheartening that no one is doing more to ensure its preservation.

Roman gate to the Anavarza field.

Aproaching the top of Anavarza

Anavarza Castle on top of the mountain.

Spot Erdal.

After ensuring that Erdal had enjoyed his first camping experience and encouraging him to visit the other 41 castles that are supposedly scattered around the Adana vicinity,  Chris and I said goodbye and hit the road again. Unfortunately we had to drop our idea to catch a ferry to Lebanon as it was quite out of my budget, but as a consolation we made our way towards Hatay, the southernmost outcropping of mainland Turkey that sticks into Syria. The history here is incredible, notably as a key fulcrum of the Crusader days, and even more notably as the home of Antioch, modern day Antakya, a city going back to the days when Persians and Greeks vied for control of the region. Although there isn't much there now in the way of ancient relics, just being in the presence of a site that played center stage in so many of the history books we had read was a worthwhile experience.

Sarcophagus, Antakya Museum.

Church of St. Peter, Antioch

Mosaic at the Antakya Museum

The start of our approach to Bagras Castle.

Taking pictures that turn out like this didn't add to the creepiness at all...

Scaling the walls

Also in Hatay Chris and I had unarguably the most memorable night of our time together. The Michelin Map of Turkey I had been fortunate enough to acquire showed a castle that looked near to our route, so one night we decided to aim for it as a camp spot. Bagras Castle ended up being quite a ways off the road, through several villages that took a lot longer than we thought to hitchhike through. By the time we got to the base of the small mountain that the castle sat on it was already well past sunset, however Chris and I, egged on by each other's braveness, decided to take the trek anyway. Now it's one thing to hike up to an abandoned castle in daylight, but doing so at night adds a considerable factor of, well, eeriness, to say the least. I had chills down my spine as we walked up the old road to the castle, and made sure I had my knife close at hand (nothing like a good false-sense of security). However getting to the base of the castle and realizing we would have to scale an almost vertical wall to gain access, our adrenaline was put to good use as we excitedly scrambled up towards the castle. As expected it was neglected with weeds grown over everywhere, but after a little exploring we found the biggest chamber and pitched our tents on its cliff-side balcony. Syria was visible in the distance and we took a little time discussing "The War Within" and our hope that it would end soon; then we lied back in the grass and watched shooting stars pass over head.

Looked a lot less intimidating in the daylight

Playing in the castle chambers.

Perfect camp site Below: Sunrise from my tent.

On our way out of Hatay we once again came across a UNHCR refugee camp for the displaced Syrians. It is one thing to see the camps on TV, but being right there next to those who had lost their homes and many who had lost a lot more than that, only to end up living in tents in a foreign country, is of course much more powerful. Humanism needs to prevail, we cannot keep living in a world where politicians and governments play their games from safety while thousands - 20,000 now, in the case of Syria - lose their lives, and tens of thousands more lose everything they know. 

Back on the road, time was short - I had to get to Iran soon - so Chris and I made haste eastbound. We stopped for one final detour: to see the UNESCO giant stone heads atop the barren Mount Nemrut, where we camped for one very cold night so we could catch both the sunset and the 4:30 a.m. sunrise the next morning. Then it was off to Van, the last big city in Turkey's east. On our last night together we bought some beers to toast a fitting goodbye inside of the ruins of Van castle, and afterwards our CS host Bulent took us for a late night picnic next to Lake Van. 

Gravel-peak on Mount Nemrut.

Our tents just after sunrise.

Sunset

Above: Sunrise; Left: 4:30 a.m. crowd on the mountaintop. They'd slept in hotels and taken early buses, we'd camped.

Chris and I had spent about two weeks on the road together, had seen a lot of great sights, and had discussed a lot more interesting topics. For me it was really nice spending time with someone from back home, with similar views on the world and an appreciate for how much insight can be made by playing Devil's Advocate. Saying goodbye to Turkey was a little sad - it has undoubtably become one of my favorite places in the world - but I was ready for a new adventure. I am now here in Iran, a country that is the topic of heaps of Western misconceptions and mounds of unanticipated surprises. At this point I have only been here a short time but already I have learned tons. The next blog should be interesting :)