Roger Short Memorial Fund Travel Diary: Turkey Amy Ward

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1 Roger Short Memorial Fund Travel Diary: Turkey 2010 Amy Ward Şanliurfa kale Roman pillar

2 I would like to start my travel diary by extending my upmost gratitude to the family of Roger Short, and all those who are involved in the memorial fund. It is wonderful that through the kindness of others such opportunities can arise for a handful of students every year. It is a growing Univ institution that I am honoured to be a part of. Without having received the scholarship this year, not only would my summer have been very different, but I think it would have been a long time before I had experienced a trip as revealing culturally and historically, as well as personally. I travelled in Turkey for a total of three weeks. I was accompanied by a fellow Univ historian, Joe. For me the desire to travel to Turkey this year was based in my academic work. In Trinity term I studied a paper that dealt with Europe in the 10 th and 11 th centuries, of which the Byzantine Empire was obviously a massive part. That sparked my fascination for the Byzantine world, prompting me to choose a module specifically studying the Empire in the 10 th century for my largest module this term. For the development of my study in this field, my experiences in Turkey have been in valuable. Obviously, to be able to travel to Cappadocia, the region in which the infamous Byzantine aristocracy began to emanate in the 10 th century was bound to be exciting. To explore the frescoes in the plethora of rock cut churches was revealing, as I was able to discover for myself the frescoes that point to different levels of development of this aristocratic movement, or indeed if there was one at all. I will readily admit that it was a challenge for me to identify even a few of the characters in these frescoes without the help of a seemingly endless pile of guidebooks, but even in trying I was drawing on all that I had read of these key figures for the period I have studied. Ecclesiastical history from this period is also an area which was captured my imagination in recent months, and to see, especially in Cappadocia, just how much religious devotion and fervour was evident has been eye opening for me. Perhaps most useful of all, however, was been the development of my understanding of the country as a whole, mainly in terms of its geography. For my module this term, our tutors have stressed from the outset the absolute necessity to have a grounding in the layout of the country where different cities lie, rivers, lakes, mountains all crucial for understanding the world of the 10 th century. I will freely admit that for a period of about 8 months before travelling to Turkey, my excitement was such that I studied the map of the country almost every day, planning routes of travel, investigating climates and history. This has been invaluable for my study this term. Not only do I find names of cities cropping up almost every week that I can place on the map, but I researched so many areas as possible destinations that I feel I know a basic history of so many. Even last week when talking about

3 the Byzantine economy, Trebizond came up in my reading, and from investigation Trabzon as a possible destination, I not only knew the geography of the city in the Northeast corner of Turkey, and so crucial for understanding its utility as a trading outpost but also recalled that it had become the capital of its own empire several centuries later, no doubt revealing about its economic potential in the 10 th century. That said, the aspect of my travels that I think of most often for my current module, is simply the view over the Mesopotamian plains. All areas along the Eastern Turkish frontier were massively important for Byzantium in the 10 th century, as they faced newly strengthened enemies for that direction. So much of their resulting policy is based around an understanding of the layout and intricacies of the Mesopotamian plains. I do not pretend to understand more than a fraction of those, but to stand and look out over the plains from a hill fortress as countless generals would have done centuries before, well, I cannot explain how exciting that was for me. Mardin view of Mesopotamian plains In terms of my development away from academia, my travels have confirmed three things to me. Firstly, that I have a love of languages. I am a big believer in travellers making an effort to learn some of the language of the countries they travel to. I think that if we expect to be given an insight into another culture, it is the least we can do is show our appreciation by developing the basics of conversation. With this in mind I bought a teach yourself Turkish book and CD about a month prior to our trip, and by the time we left for Turkey I was comfortable with general questions and answers, numbers, ordering food, booking rooms, asking directions and timings, etc etc. I do not pretend that my Turkish was in any way advanced, but it was a start at least. Not only was this something that was genuinely necessary to our travelling successfully, but it was something that stoked an

4 excitement in me that I had not foreseen. I had been sorry to give up learning German after GCSE, and French after a level, but my experiences in Turkey have made me determined to develop my language skills further, and I am currently considering my options for working in different countries after I graduate next year, in order to bring this ambition to life. Secondly, that although I am in my final year of study at Oxford, my passion for history, particularly that of the 10 th and 11 th centuries, is something that I am confident I will keep with me for life, even if I am not engaged in study any longer. This may very well manifest itself in a very long list of obscure travel destinations, a list that is already growing in my mind. Thirdly, that for a long time I am sure Turkey will remain at the top of that list. Not only do I feel I have yet to truly finish Istanbul, as will become clear below, but as I have already said, this was a trip that I had been planning for months with fingers tightly crossed, and so had researched so many possible destinations, that I feel now that I cannot leave them unexplored in person. our route

5 Istanbul: Part 1 Our arrival in Istanbul was an experience familiar to any traveller. We felt very pleased with ourselves that we managed to find the right bus to take us from Istanbul s Sabiha Gokcen airport to Taksim square. However, on arriving in Taksim we found that it was not quite so self explanatory to get to Sultanahmet, were our hostel was. We spent a rather embarrassingly long time asking people which bus to get but everyone just seemed confused. We realised after about an hour that the confusion was that there was a very easy tram connection to Sultanahmet, barely 20 metres from the bus station we had positioned ourselves at. By the time we arrived at our hostel, through a convoluted passage of narrow streets, we were exhausted and headed out to dinner as soon as we had dumped our bags. Walking along the streets of Sultanahmet at dinner time is certainly an experience! You are stopped by almost every waiter from every restaurant; each insisting they could offer us the best authentic Turkish meal. The menus all looked fairly similar to us and so we picked one where you could sit outside in the street on ornate Turkish cushions, and eat of low tables. We tried at dinner to get our bearings, trying to place our hostel on the map, but could not work out where we were. When we made it back to the hostel, we climbed up to the roof terrace, and with possibly the most spectacular city view I have ever seen, realised exactly how close we were to the sites of Sultanahmet. We were so close to the mosque of Hagia Sophia that it seemed massive, and lit up against the darkness of the sky it was truly a fantastic moment. We sat on the roof terrace for about an hour, watching the bats fly around the domes of the mosque and listening to the sounds of the bustling city. view from our hostel s roof terrace The next day I was eager to start at Hagia Sophia as early as possible, as it was probably the site I was most looking forward to seeing in the whole of the country. It is a place so steeped in

6 history, especially from time periods that I have studied, that to stand in the centre of the floor was a magical moment for me. I cannot convey the grandeur of the artwork, the feeling of history and the sheer scale of the building and its decoration. It is the most beautiful building I have ever set foot in. I will not go into all the history of the building, as for one, I could not do it justice! I will simply write the historical events that most occurred to be as I stood in the centre of the building, that is the times when this has been used as a place to give the call the rally the city into action. In my paper this term one of the events we look at is when the Byzantines faced invasion from Symeon of Bulgaria, and the Patriarch of Constantinople delivered a sermon here calling on the people to defend the city at all costs. If the city fell, so would the empire. For centuries this building was the focal point of enemy invasion attempts, if this building was captured, the Constantinopolitans would feel that all hope was lost. As it stood inside I could not help but think of the times when it had been under siege, as the trembling inhabitants of the city would have hidden inside praying to be saved. In the fourth crusade, for example, as it was ransacked and converted into a Catholic Cathedral, but most significantly in 1453 when Sultan Mehmed converted it into a mosque in his quest to convert Constantinople to Islam. Throughout this siege of the city, the Holy Liturgy and prayers were delivered constantly, the people calling on God to rescue them. As their enemies battered down the doors, desecrated this most holy of buildings, and killed or imprisoned those seeking refuge there, what must they have thought of their God then? It must truly have shocked their faith, and it would be fascinating to explore the effect, if any of course, that this had on belief in the Christian faith among Constantinopolitans in this period. As well as the history that captured me in Hagia Sophia, it was also the complexity of the religious beliefs in the more recent past that struck me. When Ataturk converted this building into a secular Museum in 1953, what did the Turkish people think of that? I myself have arrived outside the building with my ankles, elbows, neck and hair covered, thinking that religious respect would still need to be paid, but I found myself surrounded by tourists in shorts and vest tops. I will admit that this disappointed me. It is a stunning building to have open to the public, but with such religious fervour throughout its past, as a historian I am sad to see it now as just another tourist site to be snapped by eager cameras, with little of its past understood. I could go on and on about the beauty of the building, and just how exciting it was for me to explore it it was the absolute centre of political culture in the Byzantine Empire, something I have now chosen to write my extended essay on this term yet in the interest of those reading I will stop there!

7 In contrast to Hagia Sophia, we next visited the Blue Mosque, the two buildings sat facing each other. The Blue Mosque is again a stunning building, especially with the low chandelier that hangs from the ceiling, lighting the prayer area. As it is still a working mosque, we of course covered ourselves appropriately to go in, and it was a lovely site to see people praying rather than simply taking photographs. In contrast to the excitement of Hagia Sophia, the overwhelming feeling here was one of peace and tranquillity. Next on our list of sites to explore in Istanbul was the Basilica Cistern, the largest of the ancient underground cisterns in the city. Built in the 6 th century, I was amazed at the beauty and intricacy of the carvings on each of the pillars inside the cistern. This was a place where most city inhabitants would never see, yet the fact that grandeur was extended even to here is revealing about the nature of Byzantine politics and culture in the age of Justinian. After only a few days in Istanbul we awoke early to catch a plane to Mardin, in the Southeast of Turkey. It was a difficult decision to travel to that region, as it was much more off the beaten track than I have ever experienced, let alone without parents! My parents in particular were reluctant for me to visit the southeast because of talk of rising fundamentalism in the area, and ongoing conflicts between the Turkish government and Kurdish rebels. Even while we were in Turkey riots broke out against the police in Mardin province, though luckily not in the area we were in. When we had left the Southeast we heard of the bus bomb not too far from where we had travelled, and were glad that we had left the area. We were warned in Istanbul that we would struggle to find anyone in Mardin speaking English, as tourism is yet to really take off there. Indeed, on landing at the airport we met our first hurdle of how exactly to get into the town itself. No one we asked spoke English but they eventually called over a fellow passenger who did, who explained that we needed to take a taxi, as there were no buses. Driving to the city itself, we were very aware of just how off the beaten track we were. When we had been flying over the region we had seen just how desolate it was, but somehow actually driving through it made it hit home just how remote we were. By the sides of the roads there was just nothing yes, the odd person carrying a seemingly impossible load, or the odd donkey being led, but no development. The old city of Mardin is perched high on a hill above its less attractive new town. Even this though, with its high rises and cars, seemed slightly eerie, with so many apartment blocks and shop fronts clearly empty. It is an area that has been struggling enormously with socio economic problems in recent times. Unemployment and poverty are very feel problems for the region, and coupled with reputation for political violence in

8 the South East of Turkey, there is a problem of mass migration to the West of the country. This leaves behind mainly only the older population, and creating the feeling of an almost ghost town. Where our taxi dropped us off we were unable to see really the location of the town. We knew that we had climbed to quite a height, but approaching from the Turkish side, we had not yet seen the impressive views the city is famous for. We set out to find accommodation, which even at 9am proved difficult due to the heat. On finding a hotel offering air conditioning I was very pleased that my Turkish proved sufficient to get us a room with air con, without a squat toilet (my two highest priorities!). I was even more impressed with myself that I had managed to haggle the price down, Turkish style, or so I thought. Yet I quickly remembered that we were in Turkey, and that his quick acceptance of my offer showed glaringly that I had not achieved any impressive discount. This became especially clear when it turned out we were the only guests. Indeed, we were the only tourists in the whole of the city. We were content with the price we had paid for our room however, when we walked out onto its terrace. The view over the Syrian plains is one of the most amazing experiences I have ever felt. I say experience, because that is what is was, not simply a view, but a feeling and an insight into life there. As we sat on the terrace looking out at the famous minaret, the call to prayer started up and felt in a completely different world to anything I had experienced before. The view was just such a vast expanse of nothing, just flat plains absolutely as far as the eye could see. Tiny settlements were visible at various points, but if we had thought Mardin was basic, it was nothing compared to those.

9 Whereas Ramadan had not really seemed to be happening in Istanbul, it was quickly clear that it very much was in Mardin. Trying to find even just some bread to eat proved difficult, with most bakeries shut, or refusing to serve us during daylight hours. Eventually we managed to buy two bread rolls, and with our provisions wisely bought with us from Istanbul, we were able to have a satisfying lunch in our hotel room. As we settled in and wondered around the town, it became clear that it was only really composed of one street, about a mile long. The town is very much built vertically if that makes sense looking at it from the Syrian side, the houses our built upwards on steps towards the kale at the top of the hill. Exploring even the short street proved difficult in the afternoon heat, generally reaching 40. It was curious that the terrace cafes were full of locals throughout the daylight hours, just sat watching people pass by, but not eating or drinking anything, save a few of the elderly who sipped water or had the occasional cigarette. As the only tourists in the town we seemed to be the star attraction for those few days. Perhaps the most impressive sight was walking up to the town hall, which is positioned up towards the top of the hill, and afforded even more magnificent views of the minaret and the plain below. Unfortunately the kale perched on the very top of the hill is still an active military base and so we could not go any higher, though even from this height it is easy to see where the town got its name, Aramaic for fortresses. Mardin was the centre of the Artuqid dynasty in the 12 th century, and it just seems that with such an amazing view of all the surrounding areas, for miles and miles, the city then must have been unsiegable. My grasp on the Turkish language was forced to improve due to the complete lack of English in the town. I was particularly pleased when one morning I was able to order breakfast and lunch successfully from the bakery, and even have a (very!) basic conversation, understanding and being

10 understood probably for the first time. Later that day we tried to find a bus to Şanliurfa, which was to be our next destination. We found out that you could only get coaches outside of daylight hours during Ramadan, and so we settled on getting a minibus for the 5 hour journey, but still had two hours to kill until then. With two sizeable rucksacks, walking backwards and forwards from the bus station (perhaps only a 5 minute walk) was very difficult in the 38 heat, much to the amusement of the on looking locals. In terms of the local s attitude to us, to say they were friendly would be going too far, some were very helpful, but others viewed us more with curiosity. And it is easy to see why. There is clearly a push by the Mardin municipal government at the moment to increase Tourism in the area, and so tourists are still a relatively new concept for these inhabitants. Living in Oxford, on even in the UK as whole, we are used to seeing tourists everywhere, and don t find it strange, yet for these aging locals, we as tourists are coming to their town in the middle of relative desert, simply to soak up the culture and admire the views. It is in many ways a bizarre concept. The bus journey to Şanliurfa took a lot longer than we had anticipated. At one point we reached an army checkpoint where the land army boarded the bus to check all passengers and bags. In Turkey then all army and police carry what seemed to me to be massive guns, and when these men boarded the bus I am not ashamed to say that I was terrified. From the pictures of Mardin you can see the landscape we were travelling through. There was nothing and no one around us when we stopped at this checkpoint. The fact that we knew we didn t speak enough of the language to understand anything that might be said to us by these men meant that I feared we would get into a very difficult situation. After all, if the army asks you to get off the bus but you don t understand them and so don t do it, there is no saying what their reaction might me. Well at least these were my thoughts through hidden tears. Joe on the other hand, much more experienced in travelling than I am was unconcerned, and assured me that this was fairly normal. The army ended up dragging one man of the bus and they stood outside in a circle around him shouting, to which the bus driver and staff also joined in. This did nothing to allay my fears, but it turned out that he had been smuggling drugs across the country. As all this was going on, several of our companions took out prayer mats and caps and after a quick debate on the direction to Mecca, began to pray on the floor at the back of the bus. It was a fairly surreal experience, though one that made me as eager as possible to get to our destination. As we pulled away from the checkpoint after about an hour, leaving the smuggler at the mercy of the army, a local teacher said he was eager to practise his English with us. His English was limited, but he was able to ask basic questions about life in England and tell us a bit about his life in Gaziantep, a city we would be visiting later in our trip. We had been told that in the religiously conservative south east it was best to pretend that we were married, and so (much to Joe s reluctance!) I had been wearing a wedding band. When the man asked if we were friends, we held up my ring finger and explained we were married, thinking this would be the normal response in this part of the country. Much to our surprise he was shocked and said that at 25 he was not even considering marriage yet, and that it was very strange to be married so young in Turkey. He went on to say that he had not realised it was normal to get married so young in England, and that we must have a very conservative society. Joe and I found this misunderstanding very funny, but decided with our limited shared language it would be too complicated to explain the truth. The rest of the bus journey continued to be a somewhat surreal experience, as the bus wound its way through just miles and miles of desolate landscape. It was amazing to see that in a country such as Turkey, which we consider a popular holiday destination, not dissimilar to Western Europe, there is still such poverty,

11 and people living truly peasant, nomadic lifestyles. We would occasionally pass tiny settlements, which would be comprised on a few wooden shelters, and beds outside on raised platforms, with animals roaming around. Women would be sat on the ground completing some intricate task, the men tending the animals or building. It was truly eye opening. My misgivings about the Southeast, which had been brought on by the bus trip were compounded when the bus, that was supposed to take us to the Şanliurfa otogar, merely dropped us off at the side of a busy road. When we turned to question our destination, we were met only by our bags being thrown out at us, and the coach driving off. Of course it was a new city and we had absolutely no idea where we were. Luckily there was a kindly English teacher who showed us the way, as Şanliurfa was his home time. The way, however, proved to be a three mile stretch up a calfstrainingly steep hill. Laden with out backpacks we felt like the heavily loaded donkeys we had so often passed on the road, especially in the scorching heat. However, this walk enabled us to talk further with our guide, an English teacher, Mehmet, who was just returning from England after spending the summer at Exeter University, improving his language skills. He explained to us some of the long history of Şanliurfa, particularly the religious tradition of this city of prophets. It was also interesting to gain an insight into his views on the religious nature of modern day Urfa. We finally arrived at our hostel, owned by another English teacher. He clearly took great pride in his city, and in his accommodation. He explained to us how it had only just been opened, a labour of love several years in the making. The building itself was 300 years old, and he has restored it lovingly, first to a family home, now to a shelter for weary travellers. Our room was full of brightly

12 coloured kililms and cushions, our beds merely mattresses on the floor. The family could not have been more warm and welcoming, and we invited to join them for dinner, a home cooked traditional Turkish meal. At 7pm they were of course breaking their fast, and although we had had our breakfast in daylight hours, and drank a little water, we had been surrounded by devout Muslims all day and felt that we had sampled a little of Ramadan. Their house was a traditional one, and before entering we were asked to remove our shoes. Eating did not begin until a cannon from the centre of the city sounded out the end of the fast to all the hungry citizens, and dinner began with a small glass of drinking yoghurt, taken like a shot, to restore energy and prepare the stomach for the feast. The day we checked out of our hostel in Şanliurfa, we were invited again to join the family for dinner before our night time bus journey. This meant that we spent the whole day in the most sacred area of Şanliurfa, the rest of the city having been explored on previous days. This area is centred around the scared fishlakes, steeped in religious history. In 38 heat, and without a room to return to, it was imperative to stay in the shade. As it was a Sunday the entire city was crowded with local families, and once again we found ourselves choosing not to eat during daylight hours so as not to cause offense. The heat and the hunger only became a real factor as we scrambled up to the enormous kale that sits above the city. This had been the part of Urfa that I had been most excited about. The views, especially set to the continuous prayer song emanating from the mosque below, at the site said to be the cave in which Abraham was born.

13 From the top of the hill, we could see both sides of the city, the lush park to one side jarring with the poverty of begging children and wooden huts visible from the other side of the kale. On top of the hill, there were also two massive pillars that are said to be the remains of a Roman palace. It sounds stupid, but to touch those pillars and think of just how old they are, and to see their sheer size, was truly amazing.

14 The exit from the kale was almost as interesting as the castle ruins themselves, a tunnel carved through the middle of the hill, leading back to the mosque. Though obviously now lit with modern lighting, it was exciting to think what it would have been like without this, plunging into the cool darkness from the scorching heat of the day outside. I was also fascinated to think of who may have used it before us, either as a covert entrance, or as an escape route from the kale.

15 Wandering around by the sacred carp pools some more, a man the same age as ourselves approached us, explained he was studying English at University and asked if he could practise his language skills with us. We ended up sitting down with him for about 2 hours, discussing everything from Shakespeare to politics, Geordies to rent costs. Perhaps most interesting was our discussion on the East/West divide in Turkey, and on the effect that the Kurdish population in the East have on the whole Turkish education system. We had also been aware that there was a referendum going on in Turkey simply from the number of posters displaying either evet or hayir! Emrah was able to explain to us that this referendum was for constitutional amendments. He said that the public saw it as effectively a vote of confidence in the government. From this we also exchanged stories comparing the involvement and engagement of young people in politics in our respective countries. A truly fascinating encounter! Probably most pleasing for me personally though, was the opportunity to show off my Turkish skills, which he assured me were much further advance than most English people he had met! We had noticed from our day by the fish lakes that more and more people were flooding into the city. It transpired that for devout Muslims it was a very holy day, marking the first coming of the Qur an. Makeshift barbecues were lit around the park and the air filled with the smells of traditional Turkish flavours, as the masses of people prepared to break their fast. It was a truly amazing atmosphere, if it makes sense, it was as if there was a tangible sense of religion, here in Turkey s second most religious city, something that we has perhaps been surprised by the lack of elsewhere. Although there were aspects of our travels in the Southeast that made me feel scared or uneasy or unwelcome, this day in Şanliurfa was really very special to me. Not only were the sights, both natural and manmade, truly phenomenal, but the religion that steeps this area, both recent and past, was amazing to witness and to be allowed to understand. In many ways this area of Turkey seems to hold so much of the start of Islam.

16 The next two days were spent travelling to Gaziantep for a quick day of exploring, and then an overnight bus to Kayseri, and a dolmus to Goreme, which was to be our base in Cappadocia. This was the region that I had been most excited to travel to, and it did not disappoint. It is a region so closely involved in the areas I have studied in history, namely being the central target of the iconoclast movement. The main site to see in Goreme is the open air museum. There were many amazing frescoes in these cave churches, even if some fighting through tourists was required to actually see them. In fact this area was a whole community of very devout monks and nuns, represented by the beauty of these frescoes. Some have become faded either by time or light, but those with less windows proved more well preserved. The detail and beauty of these paintings were amazing, considering they are effectively rock drawings. The evidence of iconoclasm is everywhere in Cappadocia, the eyes of key religious figures scratched out from many of the paintings, and some portraits removed completely. More often they have been replaced by the simplistic red ink paintings of the iconoclastic period, that show no figures, only very basic images such as crosses or simple patterns. Not only were the frescoes astounding, but so were the practicalities of the monastery complex. For example, there are refectories, not only with tables, benches, ovens and chimneys carved out, but also shelves and storage areas. The coolness of the caves must have certainly made for good food storage conditions. One of churches on the journey back into Goreme is said to be the oldest church in Cappadocia. It is known as the church of no windows (for obvious reasons), and so the frescoes have been beautifully preserved.

17 For our evening meal that night, our first in Cappadocia, we noticed a big change from the Southeast in that everyone spoke English. I ordered our evening meal in Turkish and was simply met by wow, which was reassuring as the more and more Turkish I learnt the more I worried about my pronunciation. I was told by our waiter that it was very unusual indeed to hear any tourists speaking Turkish here. The next day we set off early for the neighbouring town of Urchisar via Pigeon valley. For a region so famous for its walking, Cappadocia is severely lacking on way markings and maps. We got lost almost immediately, following the only signs to Pigeon valley, but which turned out to be a rather un useful detour resourcefully marked on by a local family, directing walkers to a church on their property, as well as providing an opportunity to purchase any of the variety of handmade produce they were selling... We had to admire their resourcefulness! Eventually we found the right path but after little more than 10 minutes walk we reached a fork in the path and predictably chose the wrong one. After a further 20 minutes walking increasingly became scrambling through a valley, and eventually we reached a near vertical slope leading to the lip of the valley. We were quickly joined by travellers of various different nationalities. I was pleased to be able to use my a level French to converse with some of them, and it was decided we would attempt the slope. After grazes, cuts and bruises, all resulting in sliding back down the slope, only Joe made it

18 up the slope. He assured us that it clearly wasn t the path, but that the view was incredible. Of course he has forgotten to take the camera though! After all retracing our steps and setting off on the right pat, we reached Urchisar about an hour later, after walking through a valley of magnificent fairy chimneys. The town itself boats a phenomenal castle cut from a massive fairy chimney, the highest point in the region, affording spectacular views over the whole region. When we asked directions for buses, my opening sentence was to ask if they spoke English, to which I was met by the response in Turkish yes but why would I speak English when you speak Turkish! We spent quite a few days in Cappadocia just walking through the different valleys, marvelling at the different shapes of the fairy chimneys. Our accommodation was basic but amazing, our room formed by an old rock cave. From the terrace of our hotel we had a fantastic view over the whole of Goreme, which at sunrise and sunset was spectacular. Sunrise was made particularly

19 magical by the hundreds of balloon flights that take off every morning. You literally wake up to the sound of hot air balloons firing, and pull back the curtains to see these massive balloons seemingly metres from your window. As with so much from our trip, the photos will do a much better job at conveying the wonder of this view than I can.

20 On some days though we ventured further afield, which always proved slightly tricky due to the festival at the end of Ramadan providing public holidays that stopped public transport. For me one of our most exciting excursions was our day in the Ihlara valley, a gorge cut through the Cappadocian landscape, holding over 60 Byzantine churches, chapels, monasteries and hermits caves dating from the 11 th to the 13 th centuries. Exploring as many of these as we could, though by no means all of them, I felt transported back into the world of the 11 th century. Religion in this time period is one of my most studied areas, and one that holds the most interest for me, and so to be surrounded by this historical evidence, that has remained so untouched when off the beaten track, was so exciting for me. It seems that it would have made the perfect setting for a monastic community, the gorge itself simply stunning, with sheer rock sides, and then a fast flowing stream running along the bottom. Flowers and wildlife seemed to just be everywhere, and it had a very primitive, peaceful feeling. Most amazing was that when looking up at the rock sides of the gorge, occasionally visible were little doorways and windows, sometimes even ladders, cut into the sides, revealing the entrances the tiny dwellings that sadly can no longer be explored. With fewer tourists around we were able to enjoy the rock cut caves more than at Goreme, taking our time climbing in pitch darkness through tunnels leading to different floors. At the Northern end of the valley is the rock cut monastery of Selime, a whole complex of cave rooms, including a cathedral, perched above the valley. Scrambling around this fantastically well preserved complex was astounding. Something that struck us was the very fact that such a tourist site would not even be permitted in the UK. There were no handrails or bridges, meaning the gap between many cave dwellings had to be jumped. Pitch black internal tunnels had to be crawled up, keeping hands running along the sides, trusting that you would not meet unwelcome visitors such as snakes and scorpions.

21 On another day out we travelled to the underground city of Derinkuyu. Wow wow wow, this place is just amazing! To briefly explain what it is, it is an underground city with around 15 floors, reaching a depth of 100 metres, although only 6 of these are open to the public. The idea was that these would provide storage for food and livestock for times of war, and it times of extreme danger, the entire local population would be able to flee underground until any attacks had passed. Amazing if we consider the population size we are talking about is not a few thousand, but more like 35,000 to 50,000. Derinkuyu is only one of many underground cities in Cappadocia, and although it is not certain yet, it is believed that there are tunnels connecting all of them. Isn t this a mind blowing thought?! Also, the whole thing is completely invisible from outside, when standing at the small ticket office, you would never know what you were standing over. The whole structure of the underground city is built with protection in mind. Each level could be closed off separately with massive, round stone doors to be rolled across the entrances. There are small alcoves carved into many of the walls of the thin tunnels, so that soldiers could hide there unseen in the darkness, and stab spears through any enemies that passed them. There is a 55m ventilation shaft going through most of the floors, but there are alternative ventilation shafts if that one is contaminated by enemies, as is the same with all water supplies from the massive internal wells. What s more, this is

22 not a simple settlement, it not only holds storage and animal areas, but wineries, schools, churches, punishment chambers, even a ramp down to a morgue. Joe and I both found ourselves feeling very claustrophobic in the tunnels, but Joe certainly struggled more than me. Being small was to my advantage for once, and I was able to run through the tunnels connecting the different floors and nearly top speed, only needing to crouch slightly. For Joe on the other hand, at over 6ft he struggled to bend himself into the tunnels, and ended up with a back covered in scratches. One of the scariest things was that, again as with at Selime, there was little regulation at the site, and so with only one tunnel connecting the floors, it was paramount to avoid blockages of people in the tunnel. The fear was always of meeting someone, or even worse, a whole tour group, coming the other way. When this happened in some of the larger tunnels there was just enough room to squeeze past each other. However, some tunnels were so small that even I had to bend double, and there would be no chance of backtracking up the tunnel if met be oncoming traffic, let alone squeezing past. The few hours down there really did take nerves of steel, more than anything I have ever experienced before, especially for the shorter tunnels that were not lit at all. Our final excursion in Cappadocia was to Zelve open air museum. It was based on the same principal as the museum in Goreme, apart with far fewer tourists. This meant we were free to run around and explore at our leisure it was genuinely like a historical playground! Again it was a monastery complex made up of fairy chimneys, spread across three valleys, with a tunnel connecting two of these valleys. A little time needs to be spent on the description of this tunnel. You have to clamber up a vertical ladder to an entrance to a tunnel that is completely pitch black. Luckily we had come prepared with torches, but even with them, it was mainly a case of staying close to

23 each other and moving very slowly, feeling with our hands out in front of us with every step. We had expected a similar tunnel to others we had gone through in the region, lasting maybe only a few metres, up a continuous slope. This tunnel however not only went out for metres and metres, but winded its way around corners, up slopes, up near vertical steps, until opening out into a wider cave room, with a very low ceiling. Luckily small rock cut windows allowed a little light into this room, which turned out to be massive, with several more dark tunnels leading off it, some of which we were brave enough to follow, others we were not. Again, it was another case of nerves of steel! The complex as a whole was truly breathtaking, made more amazing by the fact that it was still inhabited until I cannot imagine the disappointment of moving from such a phenomenal place, into a town with normal houses. The photos will have to tell their own story.

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25 When we got home from Zelve that afternoon I went straight to bed as I had been ill with diarrhoea for a few days, something we knew was normal for travellers in Turkey. However, that evening I fainted over dinner at a restaurant, and after being helped back to the road, Joe helped me stumble back up to the hotel. I lay down in bed and for the next few hours was unable to move, I was too weak to even answers Joe s questions about how I felt. He tried to get me to drink water, but not only was I too weak to hold the glass but I was unable to lift my head to drink. Scared that I was going to fall unconscious, Joe finally phoned a doctor in England who thought it was probably severe dehydration brought on by my prolonged diarrhoea. Joe mixed me a rehydration mix from juice, sugar and salt, and drinking this I literally immediately felt revived, and had the energy to run to the toilet and vomit up all that I had just drank. For the next few days I was forced to lie in bed trying to keep down rehydration mixes, but still with diarrhoea and vomiting. I was too weak even to hold the glass I was drinking from and so Joe had to sit by my side holding a straw for me to drink through. I was completely unable to eat for about 3 days. This led to stomach cramps every few hours which were the most intense pains I have ever felt, and made me unable to sleep at night. Eventually we got to the stage where we knew we had to get me back to Istanbul and to a doctor. The bus journey back to Istanbul was 12 hours, and I was dreading it, but knew we had to do it sooner rather than later. Those 12 hours were probably the worst of my life. I was in so much pain and so uncomfortable, so exhausted yet unable to sleep. I had become too weak even to suck drink up through a straw. Joe tried putting sugar cubes in my mouth to try to give me some energy, but I couldn t even suck them, and they just stayed sat on my tongue. It felt like I cried for the whole 12 hour journey, and I just begged Joe to get me home. When we finally arrived in Istanbul Joe took me to the hostel to try to get some sleep, while he found out the best hospital to go to. Later that day he took me to the German hospital in Istanbul, where I was admitted and put on a drip immediately. After running tests, they confirmed that I was very severely dehydrated and that I had two types of fairly serious infection in my bowel. The doctor explained that it might be dysentery but that he could not be sure. Although they prescribed me a selection of antibiotics, the words it s quite serious were enough to kill my spirit completely. I felt in too much pain and mostly too exhausted to stay in Istanbul, and the next day Joe booked us flights home.

26 For about 4 weeks after we got home I was remained ill on and off, but the relief of being home was enough to revive me mentally. To describe how I felt on coming home is very difficult, and I am surprised at how emotional I feel to write about it. I had been so excited for months and months about travelling to Turkey, and up until I first got ill had been having some of the most exciting experiences of my life, and to have to decide to get that short was incredibly disappointing to say the least. Most difficult was that although we had visited Istanbul when we had first arrived in the country, I had been leaving the best bits until last, so to speak, and still had many things planned. When we first returned home I swore that I would never go travelling again, but now I am left with the over riding feeling that I have unfinished business in Turkey, and it is a country that I very much hope to return to in the near future to properly complete my trip of a lifetime.