June 4th
The morning buffets have become a bit tedious but the city view from the top terrace of our hotel continues to be remarkable. I push the button on one of the many coffee machines and choose a cappuccino. I step around the silver domed warmers of sausages, eggs and potatoes and I fill my bowl (not plate) with of yogurt, fruits and honey.
Everyone is in the lobby precisely at 8:45 with bags ready for our bus departure to our scenic cruise of the Bosphorus Strait and our trip to Ankara, Turkey’s capital. (Except for Art’s and my directional misbehavior yesterday, we are all an obedient group.)
Settled into our seats we are informed that these are not our forever seats and we should switch up daily. It makes perfect sense and is not a problem. I am grateful that the bus is navigating the winding downhill street and that I am not trekking steep cobblestones for the umpteenth time. We pass the spice market and having missed much of it yesterday, I snap a few photos from the window of the bus. The bus parks and we walk a short distance to board our boat. We have the boat to ourselves and all sit on the open deck and enjoy the panorama of grand palaces and medieval castles. We are encouraged to purchase drinks at an additional charge and the hopeful waiter brings a tray of juice and wine glasses to our table. We need only help ourselves and Art and I eventually share an orange drink. A few people take a beer but to the waiter’s disappointment the wine remains unclaimed and I wonder if he will refill the wine bottles after our cruise?
The day is crystal clear, warm and slightly breezy. I have been surprised that we have experienced little or no air pollution in Istanbul but the city straddles the Bosphorus Straight between Europe and Asia with the Sea of Marmara is to the south and the Black Sea is to the north so there is plenty of cross ventilation. I stand up to take a photo and my newly purchased straw hat from Los Gatos is lifted from my head and I sadly watch it float away on the water below. It was a great hat and I hope that someone finds it and enjoys it as much as I have over the past few days. It’s a replaceable loss but what will I do without a hat for our upcoming tour? (Out of desperation, I will buy a very ugly bucket hat two days hence.) It’s a lovely cruise and we visit with our tour mates. There are four groups of four who came on the tour together so it’s natural that they group together. We have been given a photo list of the members of our tour with a notation where they are each from. (no last names.) I watch the waterfront glide by and I spend time trying to match names with people. I have never had great face recognition but by process of elimination I will eventually figured out everyone’s names just days before our tour comes to an end.
*I stand corrected about the air pollution in Istanbul. Google tells me the air quality in Turkey is poor so apparently, we have just been lucky with the timing of this tour.
Our Bosphorus Cruise over, we board our bus for a 6 hour drive to Ankara, Turkey’s capital. Shortly after noon, we stop at a modern rest stop, gas station and food court. Lunch is at our own expense. One can buy snacks or choose from several fast food restaurants in the modern strip mall. Taylan points to a hot buffet where we can point to a dish and maybe get lucky? We do not get lucky. The food is terrible and we pay nearly $20 for a plate of reheated rice, dried out shredded chicken and beans swimming in a sauce. Where is Chipotle’s when we need one? I suffer from gas the rest of the afternoon. Obviously the beans were not a good choice.
The countryside looks like California. It is rich agricultural land with rolling brownish hills dotted with trees. The highway is excellent and straight. It is the beginning of a three day holiday, Eid al-Adha. Taylan explains about the traditions and the animal sacrifices but only if you have needy neighbors who you will share the meat with. The traffic is building and the bus is racing to beat the holiday traffic. The bus driver must take required rest breaks but we delay and pass many rest stops because each is overflowing with locals driving to spend the holidays with their family. We take two rest stop and bathroom breaks on our way to Ankara. Dozens of cars are lined up for gas. The restrooms are huge and pristine a I enjoy watching all the activity. I observe that it’s little different from a family road trip in the U.S.A. There are tired mother’s standing in line with their road weary kids. Kids point and beg their parents to buy them a drink or candy or a salty snack. The main difference I notice is the dress and a majority of the women wear multi layers of long dark loose fitting dresses with their heads covered. Although air conditioned inside, the extra layers of clothing must be uncomfortable and cumbersome when using the restrooms. Everyone is meticulous about washing their hands and instructing the children to do the same.
I pull out my small Toshiba lap top to begin writing this travel blog. Art has set it up for me at home but the battery is dead and our chargers are all in our suitcases in the belly of the bus. I resign myself to looking out the window, editing a few photos on my phone and basically being unproductive.
It is after 7:00 P.M. when we arrive in Ankara. On a Rick Steves tour you agree that you can carry your own luggage several block to the hotel even if those blocks are uphill. The belly of the bus is unloaded and Art takes my rolling bag, plops his bag on top of mine and slings his backpack onto his shoulders. He is a fit and strong old guy. I have only to carry a small personal bag and my purse but even so, the several blocks uphill to our hotel aren’t easy. The Rick Steves check in process is great. Rooms are preassigned, passports already submitted and keys are quickly dispersed almost as if it is a relay race. It actually is a race. We are to meet in the lobby in 15 minutes if we want the city walk where afterwards we will be set free to find dinner on our own.
We are all on time for the city walk and do our buddy checks. We have our head phones and obediently follow Taylan along the main shopping and restaurant street. He points to many restaurants with his recommended best suggestion being a Kabob restaurant that doesn’t serve beer of wine. Turkey is a secular country but it is still 95% Muslim and alcohol is not served everywhere. I stubbornly want a glass of wine and am deluded that Art and I will fend fine on our own. How many years will it take for me to realize that choosing a restaurant together will undoubtedly be a disaster? The majority of our group head to the Kabob restaurant and Art and I walk along reading (or pretending to read) menu after menu unable to agree. It dawns on me that unlike the romance languages, French, Spanish or Italian we simply can’t decipher Turkish. We need a menu with pictures which lowers the bar and limits our options. Art is soon grumpy and I am resigned and we choose a restaurant with the best pictures and lowest prices. Art points to a 3 item, pasta, salad and protein combo. I point to a salad. The iceberg lettuce is tasteless, the few pieces of shredded carrots are wilted but the 3 cherry tomatoes are excellent. Art is not impressed with his combo meal either and he suggests getting a bottle of wine on the way home? Although our room is nice enough, there is no terrace or view where we could enjoy it. We are exhausted so we return to our hotel, take the elevator to our room and fall into bed.
June 5th, Ankara to Cappadocia,
I know there was an early hotel buffet breakfast but the particulars elude me. We are on the bus promptly at 8:15 with our first stop being the Ankara Archaeology Museum.
Taylan herds us on a 45 minute guided tour pointing out the most significant parts of the pre-Roman collection. I love the visual of museums but most often, the dates and history elude me, floating in one ear and out the other. The visual sticks with me and I immediately relate the impressive Assyrian Bull and Lion Friezes in the Louvre to what we are seeing here. We have another delicious hour to explore the museums collection on our own. Art and I wander glass cubes of goddess figurines, tiny Alisar Assyrian tablets and impressive bronze cauldrons. We rest in the terraced garden before boarding our bus for the hour drive to Ataturk’s Mausoleum.
Mustafa Ataturk was the founder of modern Turkey. He was the president of Turkey from 1923 – 1938. It’s quite a walk from the bus up hill to the huge and impressive plaza with a 360 degree view of Ankara and its surroundings. The day is hot and getting hotter and there is little shade. Taylan does his best to guide us from one sparsely shaded spot to another where we stand to listen and learn of Turkey’s more recent history. Sadly, the guards at the entrance have forbidden that we bring my green collapsing stool onto the site. We climb the many stairs to visit the mausoleum that is very beautiful with a high ceiling of golden mosaic and floor to ceiling decorative grill work that allows a slight breeze to blow through the interior.
An extremely realistic statue of a soldier stands guard beside the tomb and it takes me a few seconds to realize the statue is actually a young soldier on a pedestal. He is absolutely still and I am soon agonizing for him because it will be another 30 minutes before the changing of the guards at noon. There is a museum below the plaza and we have time to visit this. The redeeming quality of the museum is that it is below ground and cool. I imagine that many of our group are interested in the memorabilia, dioramas and photographs of Turkeys recent history. I am not. At 11:55 we pop out like moles from our underground bunker to brave the blinding sunlight and stand respectfully to watch the changing of the guards. Six young soldiers with rifles expertly balanced high step march the long walkway of lion statues and across the immense mosaic plaza. I know the current soldier statue inside the mausoleum will soon be replaced with another statue and that the replacement will be required to stand motionless for an hour.
Back on the bus we drive over an hour to a highway rest stop and gas station. We pass several because they are so busy that there is literally no place for our bus to park. The three day Eid al-Adha holiday begins tomorrow and traffic is slow on the highway. When we eventually stop, cars are backed up at the dozen pump gas station. We have another nondescript rest stop buffet with tired food sitting in steam tables, bland rice, beans swimming in a thin gruel and mushy eggplant dishes. I am not a fan of Turkish roadstop food.
It’s late afternoon when we leave the highway and wind our way towards the village of Mustafapasa. The eroded volcanic landscape morphs into a Dr. Seuss moonscape of fairy chimneys and cliffs honeycombed with rooms. Is this Mesa Verde meets Bryce Canyon or a movie set from the Tolkien trilogy? The afternoon light casts long shadows on the landscape and I relax into the impossibly beautiful geology.
We arrive at a magical hillside bed and breakfast in Mustafapasa. Once again, room numbers and keys are distributed quickly to all of the couples and the few single travelers in our group. We know that on a Rick Steve tour, each room will be different; some large, others small, some up three flights, some with balconies, occasionally some with shared bathrooms. Art and I have won the lottery. Our spacious two cave suite with alcoves carved into the cliff walls is on the ground level with a luxurious spa tub bathroom. Two Turkish rugs are on the stone floor. I am aware that over the past 4 days, Taylan has observed all of his ducklings and is doing his best to accommodate our various needs. Although I wonder about what the views might be from the third terrace rooms, we will not need to climb stairs. Art and I sink into our spacious cave suite and but have little time to relax before doing an about change for a group dinner at a family restaurant a few cobblestone steps away.
The family run Greek House restaurant is lovely in the authentically decrepit way of a restaurant that has been handed down over generations. Our group sits at two long banquet tables inside the old building. There are some table outside where locals sit and visit. We are told that many are family members, recently arrived to celebrate the Eid al-Adha holiday. Tonights dinner is a yummy lamb stew, a delightful change from kabobs. After dinner, our group is invited to poke around upstairs and enjoy the balcony view. We split up and some walk another block into the small village with a few cafes where families sit and visit. Art and I walk back to our hotel. We have a 4:00 A.M. pick up to drive for a hot air balloon ride over Cappadocia.
