How's that for an opener?
But I get ahead of myself.
Everything changes so much within a few days. When I arrived
in Turkey it reminded me of a rabbit warren. Chaotic. Impossible to understand.
The passport line at immigration took near on an hour to get through and the
traffic makes me flinch (what safe breaking distance?). But the country is
infinitely less frightening now. It’s… stirring. Confronting. Beautiful and
peaceful.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve still had my share of noise. I’ve
lost count of the amount of Turks who’ve shouted at me (their standard volume,
I think) and the car horns are endless – but there’s also something reverent
about this place.
I met my tour group at my opulently decorated Sirkeci hotel,
and everyone fell into fast friendships. There’s twenty-four of us – which has turned out to be a really great size – and our Turk guide is fantastic. We saw
the incredible Blue Mosque and the staggering Hagia Sophia Basilica. I tried and
failed to come up with the right words to describe each. I’ve stalked Turkey
through various Instagram accounts for near on a year and it was surreal to
find myself standing beneath their gorgeous domed ceilings.
The Basilica Cistern really captured me. It was an
unexpected surprise and somewhere I could have lingered for hours. I’ll go
there again when I return to Istanbul. I need another hit. An underground water
collection structure; the cistern I saw had domed ceilings, hundreds of columns
– their feet lit with gold lights, and knee-deep water rich with wished-upon
coins and fat fish. Early recycling at its best, two statues of Medusa had been
reused to prop columns – they were extraordinary. The whole thing had a
strange, alluring energy.
We drove to Ankara next, the capital of Turkey (the
equivalent of Australia’s Canberra - the political centre rather than the tourist centre).
The Turkish countryside is ever-changing and the vistas are extraordinary. We
attended the Youth and Sports Day ceremony at Ataturk’s
Mausoleum, and were treated to a spectacular display of national pride, then
got our feet into the second biggest salt lake in the world.
After
that, we indulged. Or should I say, we were bullied into letting our troubles
float away.
A
Turkish Bath is an experience you will never forget, and therefore highly
recommended.
Yes,
you’ve reached the naked part of my story.
The
guys and girls were sent their separate ways. The girls were given small towels
to cover ourselves. A clay mask locked our expressions in place and a sauna roasted
us. All of us were wearing bathers – something which proved a waste of time as
the Turkish women in the massage room either pulled them off or pulled them up.
Like… up.
You try relax after a violent wedgie.
They
filled these pillow-like things with foam and covered us in the stuff. We lay
on heated marble – which was frikkin’ awesome – and were massaged and
entertained with song, music, and brusque foreign chatter. Me? I must’ve done
something really wrong. Karma-come-collect wrong. My masseuse tried to drag my
skin from my body with metal-like fingers. Because she was trying to break my
muscles – and perhaps my spine – I’m forced to conclude I hurt her children
somehow. I ended up begging her to be gentle.
Despite some confronting
elements, it was a great experience.
Cappadocia
next. An alien landscape of volcanic formations made millions of years ago,
fairy chimneys, and magic sunsets. We went to dinner at a local’s house – the
police chief and his wife cooked for us. Early the next morning I had a dream
come true: sun rise hot air ballooning over one of the most striking landscapes
in the world.
It
was… flawless.
Hundreds
of other balloons joined us in the air. Points of bright colour in a pale sky.
I’ve never seen anything like it, and maybe never will again. It’s a bucket
list kind of thing, and I’m so grateful I had the opportunity. We flew for
about an hour. One of the guys proposed to his girlfriend, it was so sweet. We
each took over a hundred photos, I guess, but after a while I just put
everything away and stared around me.
Sightseeing
through Cappadocia involved an open air museum with ancient Catholic frescos,
cave churches, and ancient homes. Brilliant vantage points for photos. We drove
around the area for a few hours, seeing Pigeon Valley and the like, then when
some of the group went to a Turkish dinner and dancing evening, me and a few
others caught a ride to Sunset Point and watched the end of a beautiful day. It
was a popular place. We lounged on cushions and listened to local boys singing
softly beside us. Bliss. I’ve been a lot of places, but that sunset makes the
top five of my life.
I keep thinking, I saw the sun rise and set on one of the loveliest days of my life.
Today
we drive to Konya, then a long driving day tomorrow to the coast-side village
of Fethiye. You’d recognise one of its elements – Butterfly Valley is one of the most
photographed valleys in the world, I think.
Until
last night, I’d been operating (poorly, I think), on seven hours of sleep
accrued over three nights. It didn’t matter how exhausted I was at the end of
each night, I got into bed and stared at the ceiling. My zombie tendencies
would have amused people if they hadn’t been so near to collapse themselves,
but we had a ten-thirty departure this morning, so everyone’s bounced back.
The
pace of organised tours is like nothing else.
So for now, I'll finish by saying I'm travelling with wonderful people, seeing wonderful things, and smiling all the time. Life's sweet.
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