Onwards to Mardin, was the cry of the day! There is a dam which is somewhat south of Nemrut national park, but when it was opened it created a huge man made lake, although completely artificial a beautiful site nonetheless, the mountain sides plunging straight into the calm waters. The lake also provides an abundance of fish to the locals as we would discover when we got to the other side.
The trusty local dolmus taxi, you can catch from Kahta, it took us the 60 or so km to Sivarek. The road around the lake is quite a detour so the dolmus cuts straight across on the 'ferry boat', this I found an amusing name, 'tis neither a ferry nor a boat, but a 'ferry boat'!
As we crossed the lake, to our left, yet another huge construction project was under way, a suspension bridge was being built across the lake,, which I presume will mean in a few years the quaint little ferry boat will sadly be no more :( as we chugged our way across the lake, the smell of diesel filling the air as the half dozen Turkish men worked their magic in the engine room, Charlie and I sat up top and enjoyed one last sight of this stunning area of Turkey.
It took a mere ten minutes or so to cross the lake and on the other side cups of cay (I can t do the c with a squiggle underneath) awaited as we warmed ourselves by the wood fire momentarily, welcomed over by the local man.
"Come come, sol sol" sol means cold and although it was sunny it was definitely cold! We gladly accepted their offer, an chatted away in a mixture of pidgin Turkish and English. The old Turkish men happy to find out what we were doing, bearded faces, wrinkled and tanned from the relentless sun which shine throughout the year.
My grasp of Turkish is amateurish at best, but I ve managed to learn a few key words, phrases and numbers. The Turkish really appreciate it when you try to speak in their language. We figured by the all important word 'nerde' they wanted to know where we were from and where we were going. I guess tourists are not so common in the middle of winter and we added something different to their usual day, sat chatting by the lake.
A local fisherman was busy selling huge carp and trout by the jetty as the ferry came to an fro, oblivious to the copious amounts of diesel and oil being pumped into the lake by the boat as it took cars, lorrys an passenger s from one side to the other. That said they did look rather tasty as he weighed them up by the lake side for the eager locals.
The dolmus was soon ready to go again and we made our way up from the lake onto a huge endless expanse of rocky wasteland. As far as the eye could see rocky desert filled the view, a somewhat unappealing landscape after the awe and splendour of Nemrut. The wind swept across with nothing to halt its path, I was happy to be in the warm dolmus en route to Sivarek.
As the mini bus trundled along a young Turkish chap in front of us on hearing our English struck up a conversation. He spoke remarkably good English for the people in that area and we found out he had just 3 days previously finished his year and a half in the Turkish army. He was glad to be going home!
"Turkish army was horrible he said, a bad year and a half!" He was now working in a club in Alanya on the coast but visiting family in Urfa, a town 100km or so south of Sivarek. As we pulled into Sivarek otogar he helpfully told the driver to drop us at the stand for our connecting dolmus to Diyarbakir, a city which lay another 60 or so km to the east. On wishing us well with our travels he left us saying;
"Have fun in Mardin, but seriously watch yourself in Diyarbakir and Mardin, Trust no one!"
It was clear the stereotypes that Turks have, of the Kurdish people were still holding out amount the young generation . Many would say to us;
"Lovely countryside, but don t trust the kindness, they ll stab you in the back!"
We promised to heed his warning and were soon dolmus bound for Diyarbakir. You know your in Kurdish territory by the abundance of Yasser Arafat style neck and head scarfs which adorn the shoulders and heads of the men walkjg around.
The road cuts a lone black line through the rocky windswept desert all the way to Diyarbakir, when all of a sudden a huge city looms in the distance, a 3 lane motorway guides you into the city. On all sides new flats and apartment blocks are being erected as far as the eye can see. You could tell by the dress code of the men and women this was a fairly conservative town and by our first impressions out of the windows there was not much for tourists to see. Luckily we were bound for Mardin.
The dolmus otogar sits on the south side of the city, a dilapidated affair. As we disembarked for the first time in Turkey we were surrounded by kids begging. They were all speaking Arabic and could well have been Syrian by their complexion. As they grabbed at us, shouting "money money, please sir, where are you from, money" we made
Our way swiftly to the inside of the station. This was definitely a place not many tourists venture out to in the winter.
Mardin lies some 100km south of Diyarbakir very close to the Syrian border, but regular dolmuses leave every few mins from the city. And for only 10tl we found ourselves on our way south soon after arriving.
We arrived in Mardin as the dark was setting in, the old city sits atop a
Rocky outcrop, the remnants of an old
Fortress looking over the town below, the old building and mosques built mostly around the 14th/15th century. None of this we could see :) but the gleaming lights in the night sky shone out like a giant Christmas tree pointing upwards to the night sky.
We showed The friendly looking chap who was sitting next to us the address of the pansiyon we wanted to stay at, he spoke a little English and said he was from Adana on the south west coast and was just visiting! He helpfully asked around the dolmus and told us he knew where it was. All of a sudden he beckoned us off the dolmus, which had dropped us at a local bus stop by the main road on the flat lands below the old town. He soon ushered us onto the next local bus and paid our fare, refusing to take our money;
"No no, no problem"
The bus soon wound it's way up into the old town, cobbled streets winding improbably up the hillside, shops, cafes, restaurants and hotels all finding a place amongst the old and new buildings. When he told us to get off we were only a mere 50m from the pansiyon.
It was closed! :) we rang the door bell, called the number but to no avail, I guess after all it was off season for tourists! It was still fairly early eve so we walked out down the cobbled main thoroughfare asking locals for a cheap pansiyon. It would seem that the locals equate the word pansiyon with boutique hotel also, so the first few we were directed to were well out of our price range! after not so many minutes of asking;
"Nerde pansiyon, yucuk lira" (forgive my phonetic spelling) strictly this means "where pansiyon, little lira" :) they got out point though and we soon found ourselves directed to Basok otel. Right in the old town under the fortress. A perfect location but how shall I say, rustic hotel. For 30tl a night you can t complain, and we were happy for a warm room and a bed. Squat toilets and a warmish/cold shower down the hallway were complimentary!
We awoke to the sun blazing trough our window and decided to explore the town. The streets and alleys ways wind up and down the hillside, building made from honey coloured stone, old ottoman style building mixed with new, but all keeping the distinctive honey stone colouring.
We climbed and climbed determined after Nemrut to conquer another, albeit a lot smaller, hill! As we neared the top and looked down the view was breathtaking. Minarets and domes mixed with old ottoman buildings tumbled down the hillside and onto the flat plains below. The honey coloured town looking out over, as far as the eye could see lush green plains below, Stretching all the way to Syria. A magical site. When you reach the top, be prepared for a workout by the way, the stone staircases are steep and seem endless as you pick your way through the narrow alleyways, you are suddenly hit by how high up you have climbed. It is quite a spectacular view with the sun rising to your left and the town rolling down the rocky hillside to the plains below.
We tried in vain to get into the fortress but it seems to have been unfortunately commandeered by the Turkish army and sadly barbed wire fences surround the rocky castle remains at he summit of the hill. Graveyards dot the top of the hill creating a melancholic feel to the panaromic view.
We circled the fortress looking in vain for a way in, sadly no joy at huge signs with machine guns on them saying in Turkish and English;
"Military area, Strictly no admittance!" Adorn the fence.
As you circle
The hilltop the views of the surrounding mountains and plains continue to amaze, the sun shone, no clouds, the brightness creating a haze on the horizon off in the distance, stopping the view somewhere near the Syrian border.
It was quite humbling to take in such a peaceful and spectacular view, only the erie call To prayer from the town below puncturing the silence, knowing that but a few km away in the distance,
Countless innocents are losing their lives across the border.
On being thwarted from entering the fortress, we looked over the valley at the small mountain/hill which say directly
Opposite from the old town. It resembled a mini table mountain, that looks over cape
Town, green slopes rising up to a rocky cliff and flat summit.
Charlie said;
"Well if we Can t get up to the top of this one, lets God damn well get to the top of that one, the view of the town will be amazing!"
I agreed and with that we set off to climb yet another mountain!
But alas, I must go and catch my bus :( two days relaxing by the sea in Antalya to end my trip! Where temperatures will for the first time since istanbul average above minus! A 17hr direct bus ride from Mardin to antalya awaits!
I shall continue the sorry on arrival there!
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