Part of the exorbitant fee we pay to be a part of the Duke in Istanbul program goes towards the organization and execution of two week-long excursions for our group. The first was when we first arrived, bringing us through Şanlıurfa, Gaziantep, Antakya, and Cappadocia.
This second excursion was scheduled for Spring Break, or between the dates of April 22 and April 29.
I was hesitant at first about going with Duke on the Spring Break excursion. My objections were three-fold:
1) I loath traveling as part of a group. In fact, any number of travel partners more than one gives me pause. Traveling with multiple people or part of a group makes it, in the case of the former, more difficult to come to consensus and, in the case of the latter, impossible to have any input whatsoever. I prefer to make my own decisions.
2) I had wanted to spend my spring break doing something else. I wasn't sure what, but countries like Greece, Egypt, Bulgaria, Romania, and Macedonia come to mind when I was considering what to do in the area around Istanbul during the glorious week-long vacation.
3) I had no particular draw to Eastern Turkey. In my mind, it would have made more sense to go to places like Pamukkale, Assos, and Bodrum.
But despite my initial objections, I resolved to go on the trip. Firstly, I really like the people on my program. Spending a week with them couldn't be too bad. Secondly, our first tour was expertly guided, and we saw numerous impressive sights and mind boggling things that I would have otherwise never seen, thanks in no small part to the efforts of Sevim, our tour guide. Thirdly, this trip was paid for. It was part of my tuition and it had already been paid for -- meaning for my purposes I had a major financial incentive to go. Otherwise I would have paid for, in addition to my tuition and the first excursion, two plane tickets, a portion of the cost of a guide and a bus, and meals for 10 days, which I wouldn't have used. What a waste.
Anyways, to the story:
***
Still awake from a night of revelry and merrymaking, I completed some last minute packing (which consisted of packing from scratch) and, still a tad drunk, made my way to the gates of the Superdorm at 4:30am to meet the bus that would take the Duke in Istanbul program to Atatürk Airport for our Spring Break tour.
I passed out in the back row of the bus that drove us. About 30 minutes later I woke up at Atatürk Havaalanı. We checked in as a group, checked our respective bags, and were at the gate with time to spare.
I also slept on the plane to Trabzon, from runway to runway. Didn't even notice us taking off. But unfortunately the flight was only an hour long, which kept me very, very tired for the remainder of the day.
Sevim, our aforementioned experienced and skilled tour guide from our first excursion to southern Turkey a few months ago, met us at the airport. We loaded onto the bus that was waiting for us (which, much to our collective chagrin and unlike the bus from the first excursion, did not have enough rows to accommodate one person for every two seats. But we managed somehow... some people needed to learn to share), and drove into Trabzon. I slept a tad more.
Our first stop was a beautiful little church called Hağia Sofia. No, not the same as the one in İstanbul, just the same name. Well, our first stop was really for food at the place right next to Hağia Sofia. We had muhlama, a type of Black Sea-style Turkish food resembling cheese fondue, which is apparently a specialty of the region. It was quite delicious and cheesy. Pretty much exactly what I would have expected from a dish of cheese and oil. There was also soup and some sort of bread item, but the winner of the meal was the fondue.
The church called Hağia Sofia was built in the Georgian style (as this whole region was at one time a part of the Kingdom of Georgia), but it resembled to me some sort of central-Asianified Italian villa. Besides the palm trees surrounding the thing, and the location (right on the edge of the Black Sea), the red Portuguese roof tiles were a dead giveaway. If this weren't the far end of the Near East, I might have greeted passersby with "buongiorno."
The outside of the stone walls themselves are carved intricately with flowery depictions and the occasional angel, separated out by windows shaped like four-leaf clovers that allow shafts of light into the interior.
Upon entrance, a large dome rises above you, with breathtaking frescoes representing various stories from the Bible. They populate mostly the areas out of reach (because Muslim forces would eventually try to wipe out most of the imagery they could reach, as Islam forbids imagery in worship). But a remarkable amount of the frescoes look like they were completed yesterday, followed by a small dust storm. It's really remarkable.
Outside, we discovered a chorus line of girls dressed in local traditional dress, dancing in front of TV cameras. We still aren't totally sure what they were doing, but there was a man in a suit doing small dances in front of them. Most of the dancing consisted of the girls holding hands and hopping forward and back, pumping their clenched hands in relative unison in a downward motion, occasionally swinging their fists up to make a 90 degree angle with their bodies, then returning to the usual downward pumping motion. I assume it was for some sort of television program, but it was cool to see, regardless.
We got back in the bus and drove to a yellow building somewhere in Trabzon, which was once home to some Ottoman dignitaries. It is now a museum, but it's kind of creepy. Mannequins line the walls, showing "life" in that area during Ottoman times. Part of it was barren, with only a large three-wall couch and a small table in the middle. Another room was a mini-art exhibit. Interesting paintings and pictures of, say, the peels of a peeled apple and a peeled pear merging in the middle of the canvas. Or two representations of New Yorker covers, from March 22, 1993 and January 6, 1992. I don't fully understand why we went there.
Next door to the museum, though was a mosque, which we visited. Well, tried to visit, as the Imam was supposed to meet us there, but didn't manage to make it. So we sat in the atrium for a while, but didn't make it inside.
Then came a visit to a mansion. It was partly a representation/preservation of a stately home during the late Ottoman days, partly a museum of artifacts like guns, tools, and hair pins, and partly an archaeological museum. Oh, and Atatürk apparently spent a night in the house once, so they've roped off the room and dubbed it, fittingly, the "Atatürk Odası," or Atatürk Room.
After the short time we spent wandering this stately European-style home with an Ottoman flair, frozen in time (with anachronistic display cases scattered about), we walked into downtown Trabzon. Given a few minutes to wander the city's main pedestrian street, we quickly discovered and purchased halva, the delicious Middle Eastern dessert, met a couple of Americans who found themselves living in this remote city, and found the main square. Lunch was on the main square, with several choices of fish. It was mediocre at best, though this area is known for its fish (anchovies especially).
In the late afternoon we drove 30km outside of Trabzon, along the coast of the Black Sea, to Maçka, where we spent the night in a remote hotel in the mountains. It was a beautiful place, but as mentioned it was remote, so there wasn't much to do for our group of nineteen 20 and 21 year olds.
Also, the weather was crap that day. Which was expected, as the weather was supposed to be crap the entirety of our trip, but the sun held out for the following week (with minor exceptions that inconvenienced us in the most minimal ways that it's not worth mentioning).
***
The next morning we got in the bus and drove towards Şavşat, via Artvin, where we had lunch. Along the way we stopped at the Sümela Manastırı (Sumela Monastery), an impressive Greek Orthodox monastery that sits at the base of a steep cliff on Melà mountain. It's about 1,200 meters above sea level, and has breathtaking views to behold. We took a Turkish hike (short flat walk on a paved road) along the Altındere valley to get there.
The monastery was founded in 386 AD during the reign of Emperor Theodosius I. It had several ups and downs as a monastery but reached its present form in the latter half of the 13th century, under Alexios III of the Komnenian Empire of Trebizond, which had been established in 1204. When Ottoman Sultan Mehmed II conquered the area in 1461 (two years before the same man took İstanbul), it was kept under royal protection. It wasn't until 1923 that the monastery was abandoned, due to the infamous Population Exchange, a forced exile of all Greeks and Turks in Turkey and Greece, respectively, to return to the lands of their origins.
The buildings hang off the cliff. They are constructed of stone, and both carved into the mountain, and built up on the exterior of it. Drips of water were coming down from the mountain over the stone flooring we stood on. Frescoes line the walls of the outside of the sanctuary that is the centerpiece, and of course line the inside of the cave-carved interior. Snow capped mountains, luscious forests and a deep valley dominated the view.
Probably the most interesting feature of the monastery was one of the frescoes. This monastery is in far eastern Turkey. It's near the Black Sea, but not quite near enough to mean a good knowledge of the waters. Besides, the Black Sea doesn't hold the creatures in question.
There's a fresco on the right side of the sanctuary, several feet up, that represents the story of Jonah and the Whale. The only problem is, the monks who constructed these pieces of art had never seen a whale. They knew nothing of what they looked like. So the picture is more accurately described as "Jonah and the gigantic fish thing washed up on the beach with what could possibly be a pink colored snub-nosed crocodile head." But somehow that doesn't roll of the tongue well enough.
From the monastery, we drove along the Black Sea a little ways, then cut away to the south. We stopped in Artvin for food, then finished up the last leg of the journey (70km or so) to Şavşat. We stayed the night in beautiful little bungalows that dotted a small hill, overlooking a series of farmlands. I roomed with Ben and Rhys, but managed to get the room with the large double bed, as opposed to their room with the two single beds. We hosted the party that night in our little common room, when several of us broke out bottles of liquor and about 10 on the program gathered and chatted and such.
***
On the morning of Tuesday, April 24 we went on a grueling Turkish Hike (long winding road with a decent downhill and a slight uphill), from our bungalows to a mountaintop lake. Well, we didn't hike all the way up to the lake, because Sevim thought we were moving to slowly or something, and wanted to get us back on schedule. Of course, we were followed the whole way by vans in case someone needed to stop their adventurous flat-ish walking.
The lake was worth it, no doubt. We walked around it and had some tea by it, but didn't stay long. We had lunch in Ardahan, then proceeded to traverse the mountainous terrain to reach Kars. Our hotel was probably the newest structure there, and it sat on the outskirts of town looking like it had been built at least 25 years ago. A bunch of us went out to get beer, I stuck around town to get a shave from a local barber, and the evening was spent in someone's room, just hanging out. It was a travel day, and not much more.
***
Wednesday was more eventful. We went to Ani, the former capital of the Armenian Bagratid Kingdom and the "city of a thousand churches." Apparently, at one time, it was estimated that, surprisingly, 1,000 churches dominated this massive settlement. It was the northernmost entrance into Anatolia along the Silk Road, and prospered from travelers and traders alike who paid tolls to enter and stay. Today, only a few of the better-made churches remain, but they dot the massive barren rock-strewn field, so spaced out, that one can really feel how gigantic this city once was.
The first evidence we have for settlement in Ani is from the Neolithic Period, but its establishment as a city goes back to several centuries B.C.E. Conveniently, the Turkish-produced signs that talk about the history of the city fail to mention it was ever part of, let alone the capital of, the important Armenian Bagratid Kingdom. This is most likely due to the high tensions that Turks have with Armenians following the tragic deaths of hundreds of thousands of Armenians about 100 years ago, which many call a genocide, which Turkey insists it was not (how is that for not taking a side?).
The city walls still stand proudly, but they only ran along a certain section of the city, as most of it was bordered by a massive valley, which today is the border between Turkey and Armenia (oh, yea, we were right on the border, staring into Armenia).
After a short walk, we came across a cylindrical church, The Church of Redeemer, AKA The Church of Halaskar, AKA The Church of Kecel, AKA The Church of St. Srup Amenapi'rkitch. It was built from 1034-36. A man named Ebu'l Garib, in honor of the fragment of the True Cross he had obtained from the Byzantine Emperor Mikhail, dedicated the church to Jesus. In 1291 a bell tower was added to the monument, and it stood proudly, along with the church, until 1957, when lightening struck the building and divided it in two. Half of the place collapsed, and the other half remains today. Not much artwork is left from the church, but seeing as it once held a piece of wood that indisputably had been part of the most famous crucifix in history... it was important to look at.
The next church was a more Georgian/Armenian style church that sat down a short hill on the edge of the valley. It's almost untouched. Beautiful frescoes inside, flawless construction, really a beautiful sight.
On our way back up the hill, we came across a sign that pointed out we were crossing the Silk Road. How they know that that particular path was the official Silk Road (insofar as there was any sort of official Silk Road.. it was more like one of the most traveled routes) is beyond me, but it was marked, and pictures were taken.
The next site was the Cathedral/Fethiye Mosque. Of course, while the Ottomans were happy to allow small churches here and there to retain their original purpose, impressive cathedrals tended to be overtaken. Fun fact, apparently it was Byzantine domed cathedrals and churches that were then converted into mosques that inspired the beginning of the tradition of domes in mosques. Before that, mosques were just religions buildings like any other - distinct in its architecture, maybe, but without a unifying theme or tradition. But Byzantine domed churches apparently led to domed mosques, unifying the architecture of Islamic world of worship.
The Cathedral/Mosque was beautiful, though the original dome in the center had collapsed. We didn't stay long, as there wasn't much left besides the exterior architecture.
We walked then to the edge of Ani, whereby traders would enter the city from the present-day Armenian side, and pay their entrance fee into Anatolia. Here, we came across another mosque. The Ebul Mamucehr Camii is apparently the first mosque built in Anatolia in 1072. It was constructed by Selcuk Türks, who reportedly migrated to Anatolia from somewhere in central Asia. A crude, thick and clumsy minaret sits next to the undomed mosque. From it we could see into the valley, to one of the bridges, now destroyed, that used to allow travelers to cross into Anatolia, and to a nearby hill, where a fortress stands.
Isabelle, Zeynep (one of the assistants on our program), Savannah and I ended up off a ways, exploring some housing ruins. Isabelle looked down, bent over, and picked up a small fragment. It was a painted bit of pottery. The hunt began.
We searched the area for 15 minutes or so, looking for the smallest of fragments. We found quite a bit. I managed to even find a few pieces that fit perfectly together! I know it's amateur archaeology, but it was exciting nonetheless. We collected some samples and tried to catch up to the group. That is, I caught up, but the others got separated and met us at the main gate later.
David and I during this whole thing were collecting obsidian, too, which was a fun activity. Volcanic glass is prevalent in Ani, because the whole region was at one time volcanically active, which led to many churches and buildings built of volcanic material.
We visited a few more church ruins in Ani before leaving. We took the 45km drive back to Kars for lunch, which consisted of some sort of meat wrap that was literally to die for.
Kars is traditionally the coldest city in Turkey. So cold, in fact, that reportedly the weather people lie to the citizens of Kars about how cold it really is in the winter so they don't get too depressed. Fortunately for us, the high altitude and relative chilliness was bearable, and we went out that night.
We ended up at the Bariş Türkü Bar, a place we discovered in the Lonely Planet. And when I say we, I mean 17 of the 19 of us on the program. Only Hillary and David stayed behind. There was live music, drinks, and nargile. Everything we needed. We were the life of the place, too, because on a Wednesday night, no one was really out. There were maybe ten others in the place, and they were all men.
They were also dancing. It's not weird in Turkey for men to dance together, and they were dancing in a very traditional way, arms up, snapping, rocking to the music - and I mean rocking as in a rocking horse, not rocking as in Bohemian Rhapsody-style headbanging.
Rhys got really into the music and got up to imitate them, dancing around our table, looking for people to join him on the dance floor. I obliged, and the two of us made our way to the dance floor, much to the excitement of the locals on the floor. We danced for a bit, making utter fools of ourselves, and then returned to the table.
This happened a few more times with just Rhys and I, returning to the floor, then the table. Until one moment when apparently it became the thing to do, because 16 of our 17 ended up on the dance floor at once, forming circles and taking turns soloing, all the while to live Turkish music that could go on forever. Waiters were passing by, tossing piles of napkins in the air, which fluttered down on our heads. This continued for about 15 minutes before we started straggling back to the group table.
It wasn't a late night - I was surprised that Kars even had a party scene at all, let alone what we found, so it was nice to get out and about. We walked back to the hotel and rested.
***
The following morning we visited the archaeological museum in Kars, which boasted, well, nothing particularly special. We did have an interesting conversation about who we would eat first in the group if we ended up in a Donner Party situation while on this trip.
Next we drove along the Armenian border for a while (with Armenia in view). We had tea at a small tea garden along the road, in a town that sits half on each side of the border. Our drive ended in Doğubeyazit, a trading town that is and was the Iranian border-town in the region. It has monuments that range as far back as the Kingdom of Urartu, circa 700BC. It used to be an Armenian settlement, called Daroynk. It has been conquered by the Persians, Romans, Arabs, Byzantines, all before the year 1000. The Turks arrived in 1064, and were followed a few hundred years later by the Mongols. Then more Turks came. It's been a very confusing life for the history of this small city.
One of the two main attractions of Doğubeyazit is İshakpaşa, a palace that sits on a hill overlooking the city. It sits just a few kilometers from the Iranian border. At one time it was right on the city itself, but in 1930 the Kurdish populated city was destroyed by the Turkish army, and the people were relocated to a less-defendable plain just below the city that had been in the mountains. It is in that plain where Doğubeyazit is today.
The other main attraction of the city is Mount Ararat, which dominates the landscape. It, much like Mount Fuji, is a single mountain that seems to come out of nowhere. It's beautiful and awe-inspiring. Also, for those of you following at home, Mount Ararat (or, rather, in the mountains of Ararat, indicating a region that surrounds the mountain and not necessarily the mountain itself) is where Noah and his massive yacht of every animal ever landed after the great flood.
First we stopped in town and did a quick run through a market in the city. I didn't get anything, but it was fun to wander through. No one harasses me in these markets as much as in China... I miss that. It really entices me to buy things when they yell at me a bunch.
We then drove up the hill to Ishakpaşa, which was a beautiful pink-ish stone structure on a prominent point of the hill it sits upon. Apparently no one really knows who built it or who lived in it, because the time in which it was constructed was pretty hectic. We do know that the person (or persons) who did own it was quite wealthy, due to the impressiveness of the structure. Carvings and architectural elements are reminiscent of many different styles, including Iranian, Armenian, and Byzantine. Apparently it's somewhat of a mystery. I don't know how true any of that is... I took this information from Sevim. But I prefer to think of this as one of those unanswerable things, so I choose not to look it up and research further.
Our hotel, a sister hotel of the one we stayed at in Kars, was one major positive and one major negative. The positive was that it sat just a few km from Mount Ararat, and thus had a fantastic view. The negative was that there was no wifi or computer access. So we had to socialize. We played tavla for most of the night.
***
Early the next morning, on Friday, we boarded some small vans that took us to a really interesting thing. Remember the biblical Noah's Ark? Apparently some people think they've found it. Actually, there are a few "Noah's Ark" sites around the area, but this one is the most convincing, I've been told. They not only found fossil remains of what they think is shaped like a ship, but they, whoever they are, also apparently found two anchors. Which is weird, because the site is hundreds of miles from the nearest sea or ocean.
Anyways, we were driven towards the ark, and along the way we passed a sign. 20km to Iran.
About 15 km later, we pulled off the road and wound our way up to the "Ark." We got out, and low and behold, there was nothing there. It wasn't until Sevim pointed down the hill and told us that one of the ridges we could see was the outline of the Ark did we "see" it. This thing was several dozen meters away and, much like a magic eye picture or one of those moments where that cloud in the sky sort of does look like a monkey riding an elephant if you tilt your head a little bit, squint, and use your imagination, looked a bit like an Ark. But it was a tad disappointing.
We did realize, though, thanks to our guide, that we were standing basically on the Iranian border. A few hundred meters away, well within our vision, was Iran. So, the logical thing to do next was hike along the border back to the base of the hill! Nothing could go wrong!
Fortunately, nothing did. But at least now I've done some 'sightseeing' in Iran.
Returning to the hotel, we boarded our real bus and drove it to Erzurum, the highest provincial capital in Turkey. It sits farther inland, well away from the border with Iran. It was a 280km drive, so we needed some time to get there. First, we stopped in town and had lunch at an old restaurant (Established 1928) called Güzelyurt, which was decent food, and entirely vegetarian.
We stopped after lunch in a few mosques and madrasahs, one of which is a museum today, where Karanfil and Sevim, and then David and Ellen, were interviewed for some sort of local TV station. I bought a little souvenir for my parents -- it was one of those blocks that has pictures on the outside, then can be unfolded and refolded to reveal more pictures on the inside. The pictures themselves were from the Topkapı Palace in İstanbul, but they were cool nonetheless, and my family has a small collection of them from various places around the globe.
We met with an Imam in one of the mosques, which was an informative meeting. Of course, I don't remember much of it at all.
Our next visit was the Erzurum fortress, which is now in ruins, save the walls and the tower. We climbed the tower, and got a breathtaking view of the city, which is a winter getaway for Russian tourists to ski (something that makes no sense to me, as Russia has so many perfect skiing mountains), but now is pretty dead as far as tourism.
We stopped by a market after the fortress that sold mainly jewelry. I began searching for cufflinks, but couldn't find the cufflinks of my dreams - with Atatürk's face on them, so I didn't buy anything.
Finally we arrived at the hotel, a ski resort's 5-star monstrosity on the outskirts of the city. It's the kind of place that tried to look like a Swiss chalet, but failed miserably. The accommodations were great, though. Many people swam that night (I, having packed while intoxicated, had no bathing suit), and enjoyed the steam room and sauna. Others, like me, played ping pong and relaxed.
***
Our last full day on the trip was Saturday. We drove along the Tortum Valley, stopping at a few fascinating places. First was the Monastery of Haho (Built 976-1001).
Haho had been built by Davit III, Georgian king of the Bagrat Kingdom. The floor plan was a mixture of the cross plan and basilica plan, by their own description. On the church itself, beautiful stone carvings of lions, bulls, eagles, griffons, and more could be seen. Few frescoes remained, but they were there, and the remaining ones were quite a sight.
Haho sits in the village of Bağbaşı. It is dedicated to the Virgin Mary. It has been celebrated as a Monastery for years, in part due to the artwork inside, which is now faded, destroyed, or moved to other museums, including the National State Museum of Fine Arts in Tbilisi.
Next we saw the Tortum waterfall. It is located next to Tortum Lake, which is 8km long and 1km wide, formed by a landslide. The Tortum River was blocked by the landslide and found its way instead over a drop of 48 meters. It is the largest waterfall in Turkey.
I've never been to Niagra Falls, but this was quite a beautiful waterfall. Apparently it was "unimpressive" when we saw it, according to Sevim, as today the water that goes over it is only the excess from a large dam in the area, and only in May and June are the water levels particularly high. But we got a great show. And some tea.
We had lunch next along a lake in the valley, which wasn't the best, but pretty good, outdoors, and beautifully located. It started to rain briefly at the end of our meal but wasn't a terrible inconvenience.
Our last stop was The Monastery of Öşk. All that remains of the monastery is the church, the refectorium, and the library where manuscripts were once housed, copied, and read. It was apparently constructed between 963 and 973 and was dedicated to St. John the Baptist. It was donated by the Bagratid brothers, sons of the Georgian King David III, the same man who built the monastery at Haho. According to some inscriptions inside the church, the interior was adorned with murals financed by the Patriarch Gagik in 1036. In the 11th century, the Monastery of Öşk was one of the bishop's regional seats and was a famous center of culture for the Georgian people. It maintained its importance until the end of the 15th century. It was only in the 19th century that it was converted to a mosque, but that was abandoned in 1980. In 1985 it was declared a heritage monument and has been preserved (or preservation attempts have been made) ever since.
Only three small images survive on the walls of the once-great church, but this place is still a place of pilgrimage for many Georgians. The pilgrimage is usually done by loading into a van early in the morning, driving straight to Öşk, seeing the building, then running back to Georgia to sleep in their own beds. It doesn't do much for tourism dollars in the area. As such, the building has fallen into severe disrepair. Perhaps the most interesting thing for me, though, is the size. Every Georgian church I have seen thus far, inside or outside of Georgia, with the exception of Öşk, is relatively tiny. I don't know if that was the culture and tradition of the Georgian people, or a matter of population, or something about the religious beliefs dictating a smaller enclosure to mean a better relationship with God, but this church is the first truly massive building I've seen coming from the Georgians.
We had Cağ Kebap for lunch in Erzurum, a food originating in the city, then spent the evening at the hotel.
***
Early in the morning on Sunday, April 29, we flew back to Istanbul on Turkish Airlines 2705. Landed just before noon, then headed back to the Superdorm. I immediately dropped off my bags, turned around and got on a bus to head downtown. My parents had arrived on Saturday afternoon for their vacation in Turkey, and I had to go meet them. But that's for a different post.
No comments:
Post a Comment