Day thirty seven - 07 September 2009 - Doggy Biscuit, chador catwalk

The 'Iran 3' were waiting for taxis at 4:30am to take them to the bus to go to apply for Iranian visas. The taxi is late, so they may have missed the bus.

In the morning, we go into town as a group and the ladies go off to buy their Chadors for Iran. I am looking forward to the catwalk show later.

I go to the barbers and get shaved by a boy who doesn’t look old enough to shave himself. However, it is the best shave I’ve ever had, although it is also the first time I have been to the barber for a shave. He goes twice over with the blade and gives me a face massage, all for three Lira (about £1.20).

Then it’s a trip to the pharmacy for anti-diarrhea tablets. The pharmacist doesn’t understand what I am asking for, so he leads me to his computer to type it into Google translator. I then realise I don’t really know how to spell diarrhea (this is spell checked), but he works it out in the end.

In another shopping adventure, Andrew, the young depressive / would be psycho who is becoming slightly more normal by the day, buys some sandals for a bargain, but finds that they are two left feet when he takes them out of the box.

At an internet café, I have a friendly chat with some off duty Turkish army conscripts, there being a large base in the town.

The 'Iran 3' return late in the day. Apparently it was a close run thing getting their visas, as the Iranian consul was closed and the guard was not going to let them in. However, an ambulance arrives at the consul and the gates open, so they follow it in and eventually triumph over Iranian bureaucracy.

Dave celebrates getting his Iran visa

Belgian Sam has a last beer before Iran

Our farewell to Turkey sees gale force winds tonight, and I am sleeping in my tent. Nevermind, in the evening we get our chador fashion show from the girls, with some of us men not able to resist trying them on ourselves.

Day thirty six - 06 September 2009 - Mt Ararat and Doggy Biscuit

I have a good night sleep on top of the truck. When we are getting up, Meg goes for a wee quite near the truck. Those of us on top of the truck agree not to look. However, the builders working on the road overlooking from a top the hill have made no such agreement, much to Meg’s embarrassment and our amusement.

Today we find out the Iran 3 have got security clearance, despite this being their second application. Obviously the process is not particularly rigorous and there was no particular reason for refusing it the first time around. We suspect that they had just randomly picked three from our group to refuse to cause a nuisance, something the Iranian authorities value, as we are to find out a few days later when we cross the border.

At lunch we stop by a lake and go for a swim. It is filled with what I think is Saline, or at least I hope that is all it is, and we come out with soot allover ourselves. We also do a photo stop to view Mt Ararat.....and at the sign for the town of Batman.

Mt Ararat in the cloudy distance

As we go further eastwards in Turkey, we come across more army bases and tanks on the street. Military service is compulsory for Turks, unless you can afford to pay a high fee.

We arrive that night at Dogubeyazit, which for ease we refer to as doggy biscuit. At night, I sleep on the truck, but am disturbed by an impromptu ‘silent’ party outside. Initially, this is people dancing to their MP3 players, but James/JC has rigged up the stereo to blast out of one of the side lockers, so it doesn‘t stay silent. I say some unpleasant things asking them to stop, but am pretty much ignored until about 2am.

Day thirty five - 05 Sept 2009, less hospitable Turkey

We descend from our perch at Nemrut Dagi for some shelter to cook breakfast.

Today is a drive day. We stop in one town where we are, as is becoming customary, surrounded by a group of kids. However, unlike previously, some are not particularly friendly, and I am spat at. For this, the guilty party earns a cuff around the ear from one of the older kids.

Diarrhea returns, and there is still no word for the the three that are so far denied visas for Iran, although we are only a few days from entering.

At our bush camp by a river in a valley, we are warned by some army personnel that there is a risk of terrorist attack in the area.

setting up camp

Day thirty four - 04 September 2009: Septimus Bridge, Nemrut Dagi

Septimus Bridge

We visit the 9th century Septimus bridge where we take the opportunity to cool off the stream below. It seems to be a popular bathing place with gypsies as well.

Earlier we visited a castle in a remote town, but it has been closed to the public for the past 4 months. We have a walk around anyway, mostly to please Joost, our castle buff Dutchman.

I perform a sing song to a select audience. My guitar playing is getting worse as I am a victim of uncomplimentary language every time I try to practice.

Today was also my first use of what I shall refer to as the ‘bear toilet’ (where do bears go?). I picked my place carefully, building a rocky perch on a path not entirely invisible from the main road, but at least hidden from site of the truck. My search for the right location causes my break to last 24 minutes according to JC’s tachograph. This statistic will be relayed to me at many a toilet break to come.

Nemrut Dagi

This one's 1st century ancestors probably had much bigger loads

At the end of the day, we reach Nemrut Dagi (pronounced NEHM-root dah-uh), the peak of which stands at 2147m. At the top is an archeological site, thought to be a burial ground and holy site dating from the 1st century, with lots of carvings of large heads and various beasts. We walk to the peak to watch the sun go down, myself and big John carrying beers which fizz up with the altitude.

at the top of Nemrut Dagi

Jen

At night, I sleep on top of the truck, but strong gales disturb my sleep and I have to bury my head in bag to avoid being blown away in a sleeping bag balloon.

Day thirty three - 03 Sept 2009; Turkish hospitality and watermelons

Today was a driving day. Our first stop is another Skania garage to replace a part. The garage has a mini-van, and they kindly drive us into to visit the nearby city while we wait, although the driving style of our host doesn’t necessarily lend to the hospitality score.

We are now entering a part of Turkey not explored by too many western tourists and some of us feel somewhat underdressed, not least Meg, who at 6’0” and still wearing shorts, is exposing a bit too much leg to be comfortable in a city populated by Muslims unused to our dress codes. An old man with a stick he uses to aid his mobility offers to exchange it for Meg. Taking the opportunity to speak for the group, I start to barter, asking for two sticks, but the offer is lost in non-translation, and he walks away. Later it is agreed that, in any exchange, Meg is worth 19 horses. Meanwhile, Jen, the skinny northern pale Leeds lass, says she’ll be happy to fetch 17 horses, as she accepts that you get more woman if you buy Meg.

army bases are getting to be a more frequent site as we go deeper into Turkey

We stop at a village for supplies and are greeted by a gang of children. We communicate in football team names and their favourite players. In this part of the world, their team can be Liverpool and their favourite player can be Wayne Rooney (of Manchester United) at the same time. We also get the obligatory requests for ‘money, money’. Some of us have taken to reciprocating the gesture. This is a budget trip after all.

A family let us use their toilets, so there is a queue of westerners leading out of this family’s house in the middle of an anonymous Turkish town. They also offer us watermelon, the sellers of which seem to line any busy Turkish street. I did think that they might be asking for money, but I was wrong. It was pure hospitality.

Later in the day, we stop to collect some firewood. I say collect, but could equally say plunder, as it is a collection of freshly cut timber just metres from the timber yard. I rip my trousers, which I had bought in Goreme, while breaking some wood. We leave all of it behind anyway as a man comes from the timber yard threatening to call the police.

We stop later for some more attainable firewood and I fall over into nettles. I am being too entertaining to some members of our group for my own good.

collecting wood

It’s a bush camp night, and I sleep on top of the truck as the ground is too rocky.

Day thirty two - Sept 2, 2009, Goreme, but sick

I slept in the truck last night, to avoid the stench and the noise of the underground cave room.

I am sick all day and only venture out to see Meg and Dave climbing the rocky peaks opposite the campsite.

Day thirty one - 1 Sept 2009; Goreme, quad biking, Turkish dancing

In Goreme we stay at a Kaya campground, a campsite chain in Turkey. Most of us slept in a cave room under the main reception / shop building. Lots of people are now sick, including me. Hughie wakes up everyone in the middle of the night with a great big hughy.

John, Tracy, Gaz, Andrew, Dave, Meg and I go quad biking. This is a dirty thrill in highly scenic surroundings and an highlight of the trip so far. It prompts debates about whether this is better than the paragliding and most people agree that is was.

selling freshly squeezed orange juice at the very dry mid-point of the quad bike run

We were guided by a boy who looked about 14 and someone else who backed him up on a bike occasionally. Although the boy was regularly doing stunts on two wheels, I got a warning and then a final warning about speeding around. It was very strange being told off by a 14 year old boy. I felt like I was at school again and being subject to the whims of a prefect. I will later come to feel that this whole journey resembles something of an extended school field trip.

getting ready to woo

Princess Rhi

belly dancing...not always sexy

Caz and Rhi suddenly acquiescent

Rhi and Caz, one a more enthusiastic participant than the other

In the evening, we go to a restaurant for a ‘Turkish night’. We are promised as much beer as we like, but in truth, once the dancing starts, the waiters are difficult to find. I only have one beer, but I am not well anyway. The dancing wasn’t the most impressive I have seen, but maybe I was just grumpy. They got the crowd involved towards the end, with Rhi being crowned 'Princess' for the night as one of the dancers performed what I shall call a 'wooing' dance to her (she waved him away, causing some consternation). Most of us seemed to be under whelmed with the night though. Or just tired and ill.

Day thirty - 31 August 2009; Ihlara, Yuralti underground city, Goreme

To Ihlara valley, and caves that were converted to chapels in Roman times with lots of untended mosaics inside. It is nice to wander freely to see the ruins as they were left, with no guards to spoil the feeling of discovery. Unfortunately, the mosaics being left unprotected has subjected them to vandalism. There are signs saying ‘no flash’, but it seems you are perfectly allowed to pick at the paint. Sadly, these mosaics won’t last much longer. I enjoy the walk around the scenic valley and through the streams. It’s a nice change to the more touristy spots we have been visiting recently.

Driving through the nearby town, we can see that the existing homes are built in and around the ruins. Having ruin fatigue somewhat, it is nice to see a more practical attitude to historical buildings, and not an over-reverence.

We pass a small twister off the side of the road as we drive.

On the way to Goreme we stop to explore an old underground city (Kaymakli Yeralti Sehri) at Derinkuyu. Without a guide, we are clueless to its significance or its history, but we have fun exploring the caves.

Kaymakli Underground City

thanks to Dave J for Yeralti pictures

We pass through Uchasan on the outskirts of Goreme. I think it looks like Bedrock from the Flintstones, little realising that it is Goreme that is the rock city.