Around The World In 800 Days
  • Home
  • Blog
  • About
    • The Car
  • Route
  • Photos
    • Europe
    • Russia
    • Mongolia
    • Morocco
    • UAE and Oman
    • The Alps
    • Slovenia
    • Croatia
    • Serbia
    • Montenegro
    • Albania
    • Greece
    • Turkey
    • Armenia
    • Georgia
    • Kazakhstan
    • Kyrgyzstan
    • Tajikistan
    • Uzbekistan
    • Turkmenistan
    • Iran
    • India
    • Myanmar
    • Laos
    • Cambodia
    • Thailand
    • Malaysia
  • Visas/Borders
    • Russia
    • Kazakhstan
    • Kyrgyzstan
    • Tajikistan
    • Uzbekistan
    • Turkmenistan
    • Iran
    • Thailand
    • Laos
    • Cambodia
    • Malaysia
  • Logistics
  • Budget
  • Choosing a Vehicle
  • Journalism
  • Talks
  • Overland Design Service
  • Links

The Bretheren Closer to Heaven

15/4/2015

1 Comment

 
Picture
Clinging to a rock face, nestled high up on a steep cliff in the Pontic Mountains in the Altındere National Park, Turkey, is the 4th century Sumela Monastery; a site of great historical and cultural significance.

Having already visited the Monastery of Ostrog (Montenegro) and the spectacular Metéora complex of Greek Orthodox monasteries, both of which are perched precariously in isolated places, we were aware of the tradition typical of inaccessible Monasteries throughout the region.
Picture
The remoteness of such sites meant that the monks were often safe from invaders; they believed the altitude bought them closer to god and the servitude involved in the construction of such remote structures surely secured them a seat in heaven?

With such solitude these beautiful locations are highly conducive to prayer, contemplation and meditation. They became the focus of pilgrimage; a place to turn your mind away from the distractions of the outer world and focus on discovering the profound truths of the inner world.
Picture
For over 1,629 years a monastery of some description has endured the elements on this secluded spot in Northern Turkey 1,200 metres up. During its long history the monastery has fallen into disrepair several times, then consequently restored by various emperors throughout the ages. It was around the 13th century that this existing incarnation (including the frescoes) was formed during the reign of Alexios III.

During the Ottoman Empire the monastery was granted the sultan's protection and given rights and privileges that were renewed by following sultans protecting it for many decades.

During the 1916-18 occupation of Trabzon the monastery was seized by the Russian Empire, then in 1923 the site was abandoned during the Turkish War of Independence.

Today the monastery is open as a tourist attraction; despite its cultural and religious significance the site draws in curious visitors who marvel at its location alone.

Unlike the perfect frescoes we witnessed at Decani monastery, the frescoes here have endured years of weathering, as well as vandalism during the times that the monastery was abandoned.
Picture
At first glance the vandalism my seem unthinkably sacrilegious but on closer inspection un-digestible layers of scratchy scrawl engraved on the surface reveal a fascinating insight into the monasteries history.

Who was Nebile Okur and what was he doing here in 1970? But it’s not just modern day graffiti, look a little harder and you’ll notice earlier and earlier dates; 1964, 1952, 1911, 1899, 1878, 1833, 1803, 1774, 1762 and the earliest we spotted 1511. The names and dates here document the times that are often unaccounted for by the history books.
Picture
Like many of the Frescoes in the Göreme cave churches we visited in Cappadocia the eyes and faces on the paintings have vanished. It is said that the eyes are often worn due to pilgrims touching them. Some say that the faces were often chipped off by people wanting to keep a souvenir of their visit.
Picture
The frescoes of the chapel were painted during different periods; in places the newer layer has been completely removed or fallen off revealing the previous frescoe which has been systematically chipped for the new layer of plaster to adhere to.
Picture
Sumela monastery is a marvel from both outside and in; externally, the sheer devotion of its construction and breathtaking position in the landscape. Internally, within the crumbling and restored walls, echo stories over the millennia of prayer, devoutness, safety, war, sacrifice and a restored feeling of peace and optimism for the future.
1 Comment

Turkish Tea-Time

30/3/2015

0 Comments

 
It was a cold, grey, drizzly day in Niksar, Turkey but as the door to the household kitchen swung open we were met with two kinds of warmth; that of the wood burning stove blazing in the corner and the welcome friendliness of a Turkish family.

Having met our campsite owner, Tunay, only the previous day he had proudly embraced the visitors to his home town and invited us to eat with his family the following day.

As is often the way with home-cooking, the mix of dishes was delectably different from the occasional kebab street-eat we had sampled so far across Turkey. ‘Çay’ is the staple throughout the day- black tea sipped from small, tulip-shaped glasses with plenty of sugar. The tea kept flowing, topped up from a double teapot on the stove; strong black tea from one spout and hot water from the other.


Tunay’s mother, Gülseren produced steaming bowls of Çorbası, a pearl barley soup with beef and spinach served with thick slices of bread and soft, salty Beyaz Peynir, Turkish white cheese. An array of dishes were brought to the table; ‘Manti’, soft triangular pasta with garlicky yoghurt and sprinkled with thyme and Tursu Bol Sekeli, bright pink, vinegary pickled cabbage. 


More family members bustled into the room, Uncle Sinasi carrying a TV satellite box to fire-up the kick-off of a football match between Istanbul’s Beşiktaş and Kayseri’s Erciyesspor. We budged up on the sofa to make room for excited Grandma, Zekiys, animatedly chanting the striker’s name ‘Demba Ba’ repeatedly. 


The next course was Dolma Sarma, meat and rice-stuffed parcels lovingly wrapped in vine leaves. Delicious and moreish, these skilfully- made bite-size packages of loveliness dripped a fragrant oily tomato sauce and were my favourite. Accompanying the dishes was a local speciality of Tokat Gemeni; a red paste of tomatoes, ground walnuts and chilli. More Çay followed, accompanied by sweet, homemade Gilek Regeli, a runny, sticky strawberry jam and nutty, buttery Halva.
We frequently encounter such hospitality, warmth and openness from people in foreign lands, an unforgettable experience and fond, lasting memory.
0 Comments

Turkish Car-plight

15/2/2015

1 Comment

 

What was that bang?

The sun was shining, the coastal road empty, we’d even rescued a mother and her puppies from a busy road- the day really was that perfect. Bee-bee choked a little when we left Fethiye but our worries diminished as the coastal drive through fishing villages and alongside beaches was wonderful. She spluttered again when starting after a compulsory amphitheatre stop-off and by now anxiety was growing. She made it through Finike and was heading inland when there was a ‘BANG’ and steam blew up from under the bonnet. We pulled over and Andy looked in vain at a hot, very unhappy engine. 
At first it seemed like Bee-bee had just overheated and popped the top off the expansion bottle. We let her cool down and refilled the radiator. We tried to start the car but got nothing but a ‘clunk’. Andy thought the starter motor might be jammed, we rocked Bee-bee backwards and forwards (for sympathy and to hopefully un-jam the starter motor). A turn of the key and she sprang back to life in a huge cloud of white smoke. It was at this point that Andy declared that we’d probably blown the cylinder head and that water had leaked into one of the cylinders which became ‘hydrolocked’. We sloped on cautiously towards the next town in a cloud of white smoke.

Stuck in Kumluca

Picture
Arriving in Kumluca it was now dark so rather than search for a mechanic, we needed a base; a hotel with wifi and safe parking for Bee-bee. We found a photocopy shop with a light on and after numerous gestures got directions for the town’s only hotel, the ‘Akbulut Otel’. In the meantime, word had got around and a crowd of locals had gathered around our lifted bonnet, one with tool box in hand and spanner aloft. We declined their kind fixing offers and dangerously limped the 800m to the hotel. 

Frantically searching the Hilux Surf forum for advice on what he suspected, Andy declared he was “95% sure the Head gasket had blown”. Aside from a crash, this was one of the worst things that could happen to our car (mechanically and financially). 

We had 48 hours to get us and a broken car 301.43 miles (485.10 km) to the Port of Tasucu where a non-refundable ferry was due to take us to Cyprus. As with every tragedy there are the heroes and villains; our hero was Alim the hotel manager’s son who spoke English, understood our predicament and arranged for some tow truck people to come in the morning. The unfortunate villain was the waiter in the restaurant who informed me they didn’t serve alcohol.


Tow Truck (Wheelin' and Dealin')

Picture
Several ominous guys arrived to the lobby at 9am and the negotiating began… clumsily through google translate. A cheap car transporter could take us in 5 days but we’d miss the ferry. Our car was heavy, we’d need a bigger (more expensive) truck… “paying cash?”… tax deducted ‘off the books’ and a cheaper price scribbled on the paper… We did the final haggling and depressing maths but we could leave today at least and be picked up in 6 hours and travel overnight.
The final computer translation told them we were off to rob a bank. Ironically, when Alim took us to the cash point I sat in the back with a shotgun under my feet. I assume that was a normal item in a car here and he understood we were joking about the bank. I didn’t mention it.

Tow Truck 1 - Ugel the Rally Driver

Cheerful Ugel arrived and loaded us onto his wagon at dusk. Squashed alongside him in the cabin, there were no seatbelts and Turkish pop blared from the stereo as he careered round the mountain bends up and out of the town. He chatted on his mobile then proudly scrolled through his phone and pointed out photos of him with a rally car- his hobby. His eyed diverted back to the road in time to swerve back to his lane and avoid the oncoming bus. We foolishly gave him a business card when talking about our trip- he turned the cab light on so he could read it properly and promptly added us on Facebook on his phone, still breaking the speed limit. Miraculously, we made it to Antalya.

Tow Truck 2 - Mustafa the Redbull Racer

We were dropped in a pitch-dark breakers yard surrounded by smashed up vehicles- hopefully not an omen. By torchlight some exchange of plans and cash was carried out, we waited in the yard office/staffroom/bedroom then unceremoniously unloaded and re-loaded Bee-bee onto an even more decrepit tow-truck with our new cheerful driver Mustafa. The truck needed bump starting (us pushing) - not a good sign. Leaving the well-lit city, it became apparent that the truck’s headlights were fading fast until there was no illumination of the road at all. Agreeing with us that this probably wasn’t safe, Mustafa pulled over at a petrol station where the truck abruptly died with a knackered alternator.
We spent about 2 hours in a smoky (but warm) station office with a Turkish soap opera on TV in the corner. A car of oily youths arrived with a few ‘new’ alternator options and scrambled about systematically until the truck roared into life again. Mustafa necked 2 cans of Redbull. We were off.

We Drove All Night

Looking at the map, we had covered decent mileage in the first few cramped hours. Mustafa stopped for a break just before midnight “otherwise police trouble… driving clock re-set”. Reassuring. From this point the smooth, dual carriageway deteriorated massively to a rough, twisting, single lane track; we careered round corners, overtaking crawling lorries uphill with occasional tea-stops at sleepy cafes. We stopped in a layby at 4am when I actually caught Mustafa nodding off- he had a kip in the truck, we waited in a surprisingly fancy service station opposite where Andy fell asleep on the table. We were relieved to see dawn over the Mediterranean and eventually arrived into Tasucu after a tense 11 and a half hours driving.

17 Hours in Tasucu Port

We found the Port, but were told to collect our tickets from the office in town. We waited for the office to open and then began trying to explain that our car could not drive onto the ferry. There was fuss, confusion, finding the person who could speak English and all the time Mustafa (who now unbelievably had to drive the 11 hours back to Antalya) was starting to get a bit agitated on an energy drink come-down. Eventually, despite a resistant kerfuffle from guards and customs officials, a small, influential man with a clipboard and mobile phone ushered us through the gates and an exasperated Mustafa towed us to the ferry queue.
We walked back into town (not daring to ask for a lift). During this time we must have set a local record for number of teas drank. We were exhausted and cold, we rooted at a friendly local café, ordering small dishes with lengthy interims to justify our temporary residence at their table.

When it eventually went dark we bussed our way back to the Port but were stopped at the customs gate where we spent another hour dozing in chairs with bored customs officials in their office. Eventually they let us have access to Bee-bee (if we ran through the port and no one saw us). We popped the tent subtly, sandwiched between rows of lorries and lay down for an hour.

All Aboard The Lady Su


Boarding procedures and paperwork began around 11pm. Our new hero was Mustafa mark 2, the same mobile and clipboard-wielding man of no more than 5 feet tall who seemed to run the entire show. He directed us from form to window, desk to documents, visas to customs and eventually we were stamped and official. With the kind assistance of several bemused port workers, we ushered Bee-bee down the ramp and into the ships hull, lashing her down ready for the crossing.

Crossing the Cilician Sea


With Bee-bee safely stowed, we made our way up into the ferry saloon. The Lady Su had obviously seen better days in her native Sierra Leone; the canteen was open only for cockroaches and the bar just about managed tea in plastic cups served by a lone crew member. With only a handful of passengers, we were able to stretch out on the luxury seating and get some rest. Coming round as the sun rose, we ventured onto the deck to see the Cypriot coast on the horizon and a scruffy man having a cigarette on the deck above.
He beckoned us over to come up so we made our way through the ships corridors, stepping over piles of broken furniture and tools, up onto the ships bridge. Muhammed, the lone Captain, seemed to appreciate our company up on the bridge- he gave us bananas and told us that the boat had to be registered in Sierra Leone as it would never have passed strict Turkish health and safety regulations. 

Docking in Girne


One again humbled by the kindness of willing strangers to help, we were pushed off the deck by several pairs of sympathetic hands and onto the portside in Girne, Northern Cyprus. A small tractor towed us to the port buildings for obligatory queuing, form-filling, passport-stamping ensued then we were greeted by our Cypriot tow-truck driver, Adonis. Honestly.

Across Aphrodites' Island


Nearing our hibernation destination in Southern Cyprus, we began to relax a little into our final few hours in a tow-truck cab. We passed through the border with more queueing, filling, stamping and signing then weaved our way along the Islands southern coast. We arrived into Paphos weary and filthy, and due to flying back to the UK for Christmas in 2 days, we set about finding a local garage to start our Bee-bee’s overhaul. She was set down for the final time in the workshop of Zambas mechanics to await her judgment. 

The Diagnosis

The devastating news was what we expected; the cylinder head was cracked in two places.
1 Comment

Istanbul Street Eats

12/2/2015

1 Comment

 
1 Comment

Getting Around Istanbul

11/2/2015

1 Comment

 
Picture
Geographically it is obvious why Istanbul, with its 14 million people, is considered the second most congested city in the world. The narrow 30km stretch of land, where Istanbul sits, is the central corridor linking Europe to Asia: it is also divided by the Bosphorus Strait, linking the Black Sea in the North with the Sea of Marmara in the South.

Just two bridges span the strait linking Europe to Asia, forming two of the most hectic bottlenecks in the world. More than 116 million cars travel across the bridges every year on just 14 lanes. 

Driving in Istanbul is somewhat challenging and a little stressful unless you adopt the same approach as the locals. Technically the road ‘rules’ are not too dissimilar to any other European country; the only difference in Istanbul is that no one follows the rules… or any other kind of road etiquette! The Turkish approach is every man for himself (women are rarely seen behind the wheel).

You drive on the right (most of the time), beep your horn… a lot, ignore traffic lights and road signs and, generally, do what you want. People often drive without lights in the dark and no-one uses indicators.

If all that wasn’t enough - It’s not only the drivers you have to worry about, pedestrians also think they have the right to step out into the road at anytime, normally without looking! 
Picture
Our introduction to Istanbul involved driving onto Fatih Sultan Mehmet Bridge where 14 tollbooth lanes merge magically into just 5 east-bound lanes. Here, street vendors take advantage of the slow moving traffic to peddle their wares. This involves standing in the middle of the highway, usually with a large wooden cart, as rows of traffic pass dangerously close on either side. If the traffic clears and speeds up the vendors attempt to dive back onto the ‘not-much-safer’ hard shoulder. The vendors work well into the twilight hours and are not aware of how much a hi-vis jacket might extend their life expectancy.

Just to put all this information into context it took us 4 hours to drive just 16km across the city. For the remainder of our 6-day visit we decided to park up Bee-bee and use public transport.
Although public transport was lengthy and crowded (with 5 million users daily), it was cheap, varied and certainly less stressful than driving ourselves around the city. Thousands of ‘Dolmus’ minibuses interweave their haphazard way across the vast expanse of suburbs. Jump on-board and pass your bargain fare to the driver via a chain gang of squashed passengers. The Dolmus drivers are possibly some of the worst in the city, but as a passenger you benefit from their skilled overtaking, brazen manoeuvres and knowledgeable shortcuts.
Istanbul’s Metro (underground train network) took us closer to the centre; a modern, organised and efficient system. Arriving at the watery obstacle of the Bosphorus we tried several public forms of passage; the first was a nippy sea bus, darting straight across the strait amongst the busy sea lanes. Ferry boats chug more serenely across, passengers throw bread to flocks of gulls hovering at the stern and you can relax on deck taking in the impressive cityscape. For speed and an avoidance of the waves you can take the shiny new ‘Marmaray’; sleek trains whizzing through an undersea rail tunnel.
Metrobuses interweave the city’s streets, linking suburban overland trains with a network of modern tramways. For a more nostalgic tram journey, you can catch the restored trams which climb the huge pedestrian Istiklal Caddesi Street in Beyoğlu.
Picture
Too tired/lazy to climb the steep hill from the Bosphorus up to Taksim Square? Try the Funicular ‘climbing train’ which transports you the 60 metre ascent in just 110 seconds. A pre-paid travel card is swiped for each trip, regardless of the transport method, with each journey only costing a few lira.

While we mainly explored the city by foot, the variety of fascinating ways of getting around in Istanbul, with a wonderful mix of passengers, only added to our new-found love of the city. 
1 Comment

    Archives

    July 2020
    March 2020
    April 2019
    March 2019
    September 2017
    February 2017
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013
    March 2013
    February 2013
    January 2013
    November 2012
    October 2012
    September 2012
    August 2012
    July 2012
    June 2012
    May 2012
    April 2012
    March 2012
    February 2012
    January 2012
    December 2011
    October 2011
    August 2011
    July 2011
    May 2011
    April 2011
    March 2011
    February 2011
    January 2011
    December 2010
    November 2010

    Categories

    All
    Adventuring
    Albania
    Americas
    Andy
    Armenia
    Bosnia
    Cambodia
    Car Selection
    Charity
    Cooking
    Croatia
    Culture
    Cyprus
    Electrical
    Emma
    Engine
    Europe
    Facts
    Fault
    Food
    Fund Raising
    Gallery Magazine
    Georgia
    Greece
    Hilux Surf
    India
    Iran
    Kazakhstan
    Kosovo
    Kyrgyzstan
    Landcruiser
    Laos
    Magazine Articles
    Malaysia
    Modifications
    Mongolia
    Montenegro
    Morocco
    Myanmar
    Nature
    Photography
    Planning
    Pre Adventuring
    Pre-adventuring
    Problems
    Research
    Russia
    Scandinavia
    Slovenia
    Spain
    Tajikistan
    Thailand
    Thoughts
    Turkey
    Turkmenistan
    United Kingdom
    Uzbekistan
    Vehicles
    Video
    World


    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly
  • Home
  • Blog
  • About
    • The Car
  • Route
  • Photos
    • Europe
    • Russia
    • Mongolia
    • Morocco
    • UAE and Oman
    • The Alps
    • Slovenia
    • Croatia
    • Serbia
    • Montenegro
    • Albania
    • Greece
    • Turkey
    • Armenia
    • Georgia
    • Kazakhstan
    • Kyrgyzstan
    • Tajikistan
    • Uzbekistan
    • Turkmenistan
    • Iran
    • India
    • Myanmar
    • Laos
    • Cambodia
    • Thailand
    • Malaysia
  • Visas/Borders
    • Russia
    • Kazakhstan
    • Kyrgyzstan
    • Tajikistan
    • Uzbekistan
    • Turkmenistan
    • Iran
    • Thailand
    • Laos
    • Cambodia
    • Malaysia
  • Logistics
  • Budget
  • Choosing a Vehicle
  • Journalism
  • Talks
  • Overland Design Service
  • Links