Sleep starved from Turku to Berlin!

If you ever find yourself tired, in Turku and needing to fly to Berlin from Helsinki, I would recommend paying the 7e it costs to chose ones own seat on the plane! 

After a coach ride through the night, I found myself, early morning, sat between a silent German lady and a rather rotund and amply sized Latvian gentleman, who squeezed himself into the aisle seat next to me. 

The next few hours passed as uncomfortably as one can imagine, trying to catch some sleep as the unwilling filling in a not so friendly German/Latvian human sandwich. 

I don t know what it is about German police, but they always look a little more frightening than our Bobbys on the beat in England. 

Tegel airport Germany, 9am, they were out in full force, pistols hanging nonchalantly from their side as they surveyed the incoming visitors. Clearly thinking me a upstanding citizen of the world, I waltzed on by without hurt or hindrance, into the chilly sunshine of Berlin. 

Tegel airport benefits from being close enough to the city to connect through the efficient BVG transport system, which relies on the goodwill and honesty of its passengers in collecting fares. 

The possibility to jump on free of charge is tempting to a Brit, any who have visited London would know it is nigh on impossible to get through the Berlin wall esque barriers, that prevent even the most tenacious from storming the 'barricades'.

For the bargain price of 2.70e The bus 'Number' TXL takes you straight to the centre and Alexanderplatz. It winds its way through the industrial suburbs of Berlin. Ramshackle small bungalow dwellings with adjacent garden patches line the route, a throw back to the DDR. 

A Prison which wouldn t look out of place in The Shawshank Redemption adds to the  intrigue along the journey, and perks the imagination of the inquisitive traveler. I m sure a story or two can be told behind those walls. 

A rabble of Danish school kids provided an unintelligible but pleasant background noise to the journey. Having studied Danish for two years at university in London, it was good to reacquaint myself with the soft guttural sounds of the Danes. 

Nearing the centre, U bahn and Train lines dot the route and the bus soon emptied of the Danish contingent, who hopped off to treat the unsuspecting U bahn population to a cacophony of Dane speak. It is debatable if it's a real language, or just a series of unintelligible bastardised Norwegian/Swedish words ;) I jest of course, it is a lovely language! 

The many tributaries and canals from the Rover Spree line the route into town, and as the TXL travels past the hauptbahnhof of Berlin, a glass megastructure of modern architecture, you catch a glimpse of the TV tower.  Shining circle atop, keeping watch over the slumbering city below.  Streets empty and quiet on this sunny Saturday morning. The sun dancing off the river and building windows, giving a surprisingly tranquil and warm welcome to the weary traveler. 

The bus turns and drives through the campus of Humboldt university, an impressive array of educational buildings that give a campus feel to this area of Berlin. A cafe or two stirred my caffeine senses and as my eduroam wifi kicked in, I decided to disembark and find my bearings, over a much need coffee and Berlin cheesecake...

Using a combination of sign language and a fried my smile, I acquired my liquid and food replenishments, and sank into the welcoming sofas sipping my coffee. sleep starved, but content, so began my first day in Berlin...

Suicide tours and sanitised history

"And on your left you can see the citadel, sitting atop a hill where many people have committed suicide from" was the irresistibly bizarre voice over from the riverboat cruise! 

Opting for the cheapest river cruise on offer we embarked on a boat that would have made a blow-up dingy a more preferable option. Listing heavily to the left, either on account of uneven weight distribution of passengers or as part of its unique rustic charm, we chugged off the pier and into the Danube with the pace of a geriatric snail. 

The benefit of the pedestrian pace of our incredibly river worthy vessel was the allocation of ample time to view the impressive riverside buildings, lit up across the night sky. It definitely was not a case of blink and you ll miss it! 

As the voice over kicked in through the muffled speaker - oh no this was not a boat for personal headphones - the only sentence one could make out from the female voice over seemed to be a 1/2 hour description of the various riverside spots that "people can commit suicide off". 

The employee regaling these optimum sites for the ending of ones life seemed oblivious to the meaning of the words she was saying, someone in the script department was clearly bored and having a laugh at her expense, that, or it was a less than subtle nudge to we the passengers to try to cut down on tourist numbers in the city! 

With black smoke billowing out the back and a less than healthy sound coming from the engine room we limped back to the river side, The voice over really didn t matter as the city speaks for itself, a river trip well worth the time. 

The national museum sits just back from the river in a impressive neo-classical building. It gives a brief overview of Hungarian history from the beginning of time to present day. If you fancy a whistle stop tour of centuries of history tinged with a bit of nationalism, then stop by. But I can give you a brief overview of the slightly sanitised one sided journey through the ages of glorious Hungarian history...

The Hungarians were and Budapest was at the heart of civilisation in Europe throughout the ages, resolute in their defence of their culture and language. 

The Protestant reformation attempted to foist its anti-establishment values on the Magyars, but the plucky Hungarians with the might of the Catholic Church performed a counter-reformation and order was restored. 

Then along came those pesky, interfering Habsburgs from Vienna and subjugated the honest Hungarians to a century or so of subservience, until finally they obtained their independence post WWI. 

Glorious years of independence followed. WWII left them caught between two world powers and they had 'no choice' but to allow the Germans into their country. They were instrumental in saving as many Jews as possible. Not a hint of persecution or collaboration existed. 

Then ensued 50 dark years under the Soviet sphere, which nobody in Hungary wanted. The Hungarian uprising was given prime place. 

And swiftly we move onto a newly independent t Hungary in the 90s! 

But like all national museums it sells itself in a positive light, so I m not singling out Hungary as in anyway unique. For one eith even a passing interest in history it offered a wry smile or two to the discerning visitor

After such a unbiased recounting of Hungarian history I felt the need to forge one last time on Hungarian cuisine. 

I made my way to the covered market next to the river. Tourists and locals bustle together in this mix of souvenir and food shops. Selling a unlimited supply of soviet era trinkets, t-shirts, paprika sausage, langos and anything else that could be considered 'Hungarian' it is a feast for the senses! And cannot be missed! 

So ended my brief but enjoyable foray into the Jewel by the Danube! 

Mandarin tours and langos!! The citadel draws me back

The Danube scythes through Budapest, a constant reminder of not only mans insignificance in the face of natural wonders, but also his ability to tame constrain and utilise it to further the never ending quest for the progress of humankind.

On one side the city sprawls out on a flat plain, a never ending mass of buildings, referencing the various stages of history the city has experienced. Impressive church spires dot the skyline as 18th and 19th century grandeur mixes with austere soviet era concrete functionality.  Modern late 20th and early 21st century hotels and office blocks  show a new side of Budapest emerging from post soviet times. 

On the other side of the river the citadel and castle mount impose themselves impressively on the skyline.  A skyline that I proffer has changed little in the last few centuries.     The suburbs of the city creep up the surrounding hills providing a multitude of vantage points with which to view the city below. 

I found myself meandering my way up the winding pathways of the citadel once more. Only this time the sun shone through the white clouds as blue skies created the perfect backdrop to a panoramic view it was hard to get tired of. 

The citadel park in the daytime is a much more welcoming affair, the wind whips her way off the river and up the hill, creating a welcome breeze to the weary traveler, a never ending supply of benches provide idyllic vantage points to stop, take a rest and feast on the view below. 

The clouds parted and the sunlight lit up the riverside buildings one by one.

Today was a day for tour buses of East Asian tourists atop the citadel. Now if there is one thing my travels around the world have taught me, it is that is that travelers from the land of the rising sun and its neighbours across the sea love a good group tour with accompanying guide. 

An endless stream of happy travellers marvelled at the view below, snapping pictures at a rate suggesting it was a practice that would soon be made illegal. Their personal tour guide rambled on in their native language complete with portable microphone as they listened on intently.  

I found myself gliding past them unnoticed wishing I could speak mandarin to understand the nuggets of wisdom their tour guide was confidently espousing. He bore the expression of one who considered himself the leading Chinese authority on all things Hungarian. 

Before the mount drops steeply to the riverside, the summit on the castle side slopes gently down.  The wooded grassy plain was too inviting and I found a suitable spot in and amongst the trees, and sat down as the first flowers of Spring sprouted up around me. 

Upstream, not more than half a kilometre away the castle stood soaked in sunlight. It was hard to decide whether it looked more impressive under floodlit darkness or in the daytime sunshine. My weary brain decided it was a decision that was too hard to make and I ambled my way down towards the Danube, which seemed to have a seemingly never ending allure, a forbidden mistress tempting you back time and time again. 

Langos! Under the towering walls of the castle I had my first taste of the deep fried tasty treat. A crispy circular shaped batter, the size and shape of a pizza, doused in sour cream and cheese, a unhealthy but sumptuous feast. After a day's sightseeing it had the effect of making one feel they had just gone 12 rounds with a prize fighter, that fighter being saturated fat. A double espresso was needed. 

I crossed back over the Danube, the parliament building now visible, maybe even more impressive than the castle mount, ornate and strikingly majestic, it nestled on the riverbank  bathed in the Crimson glow of the fading sun.  As the sky and clouds turned a backdrop of blue and white to a kaleidoscope of red and Crimson variations.

I sat under the arches of the impressive 19th century bridge as the ebb and flow of the Danube lapped against the riverbank rocks I was sat on. The sun setting behind the castle on the opposite bank, as tourists and locals sat relaxing and enjoying the view, a perfect ending to the day. 

The river tour boats were calling my weary legs. A tour guide with a penchant for suicide anecdotes, a national history museum selling a sanitised version of Hungarian history and a market offering up nostalgic delights. But, that triumvirate of intruding stories I save for my final Budapest blog. 

From Ruin to Redemption

So how does one get from Ruin to Redemption in a few days?....

The ruin bars of Budapest are establishments  not to be missed. Dotted around the city centre , in the run down buildings of the old Jewish quarter, they are a testament to the ingenuity and creativity of residents of this fair city.

Whilst most traces of the once thriving Jewish quarter have all but gone, in an area for so long neglected it is nice to see such alternative places for the weary and the thirsty, welcoming travellers from all over the world. 

Hashed together in derelict buildings, you will find makeshift rooms, adorned with graffiti, posters, chandeliers made from bike wheels and Christmas lights, old PC monitors play old school 90s screen savers on a constant loop as the DJs entertain the revelling crowd. 

During the day time they are a nice chilled place to relax in. Each ruined section offers up all manner of drinks, chill out areas, food grill and the aptly placed hollow of a car from a bygone era, taking centre stage as an elaborate table to in the smoking garden. Old bicycles, colourfully painted hang from the walls,

Tables and chairs salvaged from old workplaces, schools, who knows. One can t help but be taken in by the uniqueness of these places. 

The ruin bars have a slightly Jekyll and Hyde tinge to them, and by no fault of their own. Their relaxed daytime hipster bar vibe gives way to that of a mass throng of revelry, where a eclectic but strange mix hipsters, students, stag parties and weekend tourists enjoy the DJ sets. 

The sheer amount of English people is sadly mind boggling. Dom t get me wrong I love my country folk, but when travelling abroad I like to get away from that lovely British accent.

Alas in the ruin bars of Budapest the English accent creeps through the doors like a deadly virus as the day turns to night and takes over as the language/accent of choice for most. 

Your in danger of forgetting your in the beautiful city on the banks of the Danube when you hear British drunken shouts in the street: 

"Nothing like a tasty kebab on the way home" 

Although I must admit the kebabs in Budapest are infinitely nicer than ours in the UK.  If your ever in Budapest get a Gyros down you! 

Brits aside the bars of Budapest are not to be missed. 

But after a couple of days acquainting myself with the ruinous side of Budapest , I was itching for some kind of cultural activity to counterbalance the beer themed culture of the previous few days. 

Redemption called...

As the stars shone down, not a cloud in sight and after a tasty shot of absinthe for the road me and my trusty companion Ben set off over the Danube for a night time stroll, to redeem our health more than anything with a good stomp up the Citadel. 

The bronze lady, lit up, holds aloft a olive leaf, imposing her watchful eye on the city below. The citadel is a rocky outcrop on the banks of the Danube, it has for centuries been used as a fortress and vantage point. Having suffered severe damage during the war it was reopened as a park and viewpoint in the 1970s. 

At night time it has, not a sinister but a faint eerie feel to it.  As you wander up the dimly lit walkways, the shadows of tree branches and statues appears out of the gloom, the swings and slides of a kids playground groan and creak in the wind adding the the chorus of rustling tree branches. And save for the trickle of tourists making the trek up the mountain you would be forgiven for getting a little jumpy at the slightest sound. 

Before you even teach the top the pathway hugs the cliff face and the panoramic view up and down the Danube opens before you, bridges, buildings and cars light up against the night sky, relentlessly pulsing like the veins driving the heart of the city. 

It is easy to get lost in the dark due to the myriad of staircases and paths that lead up through the wooded hillside, but then very easy to find your way again.  The citadel at the summit is always visible through the trees and also the sheer cliff face on one side prevents you walking any further. 

The view from the summit is quite breathtaking. Two lesser statues flank the bronze lady, I say lesser, they re bloody huge, just that the bronze lady is suffering from a bout of gigantism so her male minions to her left and right dwarf into insignificance, save for the ridiculous poses both men have. 

One man stands bearing a torch which looks more like a matchstick when held next to the lady, and to her right the statue has a dragon in a death grip between his legs and is proceeding to beat the living daylights out of his face with his menacing fist.  All the while the dragon is looking up with an expression that says: "is that the best you got mate, I can just breath fire and end this!" 

The view below may have been spectacular but the statutes do kind of make you look at them, maybe in my case a little too much. 

We rounded the citadel and as we made it to the rear of the statutes the castle, palace and parliament light up the skyline either side of the river upstream. 

There are are benches, walls and grassy areas to sit and enjoy the panorama.  But as the cold breeze whipped up the hill, we found shelter against the ancient walls of the citadel.  A nice cool cider and a smoke seemed to have the effect of forgetting the cold, the view alone was enough to do that. 

The palace and castle rise up on a rocky outcrop much like the citadel about a kilometre or so upstream, and on the opposite side of the river, the parliament competes in a face off, as if locked in a giant game of 'who is the most audacious, ornate, majestic building of the Danube'. 

Cities at night time always look more comforting. The dirt and grime of the daytime disappear and all that is left to see are the shining lights of the impressive landmarks. The dark and silent Danube glistening and reflecting the lights of its riverbank dwellers. 

After complementing ourselves at what a great idea it was to enjoy a tasty nighttime beverage atop the citadel with the glistening panorama below we had to leave as the welcoming comfort of collapsing in bed called me. 

Daytime citadel summiting, river cruises with a voice over lady with a suicidal twist,

and national museums await my next instalment...

The hunt for the elusive Danube

Walking around a city is a perfect way to get acquainted with, explore and hopefully discover the hidden surprises that await the nosey tourist. 

Sat in the dining room under the watchful eye of Lenin, hand raised proclaiming the revolution from a poster in the wall opposite, sipping my breakfast of black coffee, I was ready to venture out on my quest to find the Danube. 

A quick glance at google maps before I left the wifi in the flat and I set off on my way from Barros Utca. Stopping off in the very Hungarian establishment of lidl to buy some supplies. 

The area around Barros Utca is lined with wide boulevards featuring imposing 19th century apartment buildings.  A testament to it's prominence as the one time capital of the Austro-Hungarian empire. 

After walking for what seemed far too long, the Danube was nowhere in sight. As it turns out, my sense of direction is not always up to scratch, and one fatal left turn too soon had found me walking parallel with the river for about 2/3km. 

I ambled my way through run down but welcoming suburbs. Soviet era apartment blocs and industrial buildings lined the streets, cracked and uneven pavements led me along my way as I walked down the empty streets. The occasional building razed to the ground reduced to rubble. 

One could not help but notice juxtaposition between the huge advertising hoardings proclaiming the wares of H&M , Rita Ora's latest line of lingerie and the U.K. Supermarket Tesco, and the buildings they were draped over. Buildings built as the engine rooms of the once communist regime.  

Ignoring the adverts to western consumerism, these streets didn t appear to have changed much since the days before the iron curtain fell. The buildings a little more run down, the trees a little taller perhaps.

To my right as I continued through this maze of grid like apartments, I passed a building to my left which would not have looked out of place in "One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest".  An imposing facade adored the building, as white washed metal bars slatted over  the Windows and a brick wall surrounded the property. Wondering to myself the stories that could be told behind those derelict walls, to my left out of nowhere appeared a welcoming cafe. 

Bodega Konhya is surrounded by the rubble and dust of its former industrial neighbours.  Demolition work continues but the walls of the cafe offer a welcoming oasis of calm. 

An array of tasty Hungarian food,

Burgers, beverages, coffee and teas are on offer. Newpaper articles and posters adorn the walls in a collage of colour that leaves the customer constantly curious and inquisitive, as you find yourself browsing now and again as if you find some bit of intrigue you may have previously missed. 

The table stands are fashioned from colourfully painted parts of motorcycle and car engines and two friendly waitresses welcomed me in. 

I sat in the garden and devoured my tasty iced tea and paprika doused fries. Instantly reminded of the Central European love affair with paprika, they just love to put a bit of paprika in everything. Luckily I m partial to the taste of the versatile pepper so it presented no problem for me. But I digress... 

I left the Cafe a satisfied customer and as I turned to my left, ahead in the distance I could make out the outline of the National Theatre and the Palace of Arts. Both impressive buildings sit on the banks of the Danube, next to the towering red pillars of the Rakoczi Had bridge. It's gleaming metal structure reaching across the waters below. 

My self imposed detour had resulted in me  hitting the Danube 3 bridges and 2/3 km downstream to where I had intended, but my adventures along the way left me in the mood for a riverside stroll, upstream  towards the centre. 

The Danube is an impressive sight. Glistening in the sunlight It rumbles through Budapest, an imposing natural wonder,  carving a relentless pathway through the Hungarian capital. The silent waters betray a current of whirlpools and undercurrents that would make even the strongest swimmer struggle. 

Cycle pathways and pavements hug the riverbanks, flanked by a ancient yellow stoned wall, giving protection from he ebb and flow of the river. 

Weighed down by my rucksack and an attire of clothing, which belonged in temperatures far colder than I was experiencing that day (not everywhere is as cold as Finland at this time of year). The breeze whipped in off the sun drenched riverbanks, delivering a welcome cooling breeze. 

Off in the distance, upstream, the citadel dominates the skyline. An imposing bronze statue sits atop a 230m hill, surrounded by an ancient fortress, looking watch over the city below. 

As I made my way closer this impressive sight, the river to my left. Cafes, and restaurants with riverside terraces line the route the closer to the centre you become.  

The boats providing river tours to the eager tourists glide effortlessly downstream, then as they turn and round on themselves to return to the centre they perform what seems like an agonising ever arching u-turn. As the ancient Diesel engines churn up the dark waters, black smoke billows from the rear of the boats. 

Struggling to fight the relentless and steady current that wills them to continue downstream, the creaking tourist boats finally win the tug of war with nature, and limp like ageing giant salmon upstream to the breeding grounds that are the abundance of tourists waiting at the piers edge.  

Whether you are the hipster enjoying your green tea in the appropriately converted riverside warehouse, the local drunk lounging on the park bench swigging a from a bottle of nondescript moonshine, the fitness fanatic jogging, the man practicing yoga under the cooling branches of the park trees, or the bearded sweaty tourist, the atmosphere along the Danube provides a welcoming calming contrast from the busy bustling streets of the capital. 

Szabadsag hid. The steel structured bridge that leads across the river to the citadel signalled the end of my 14km riverside walk. The outcrop of rock and the slight hook in the river obscured my view of the palace. But that feast for the eyes would have to wait till the next day. For I had friends to meet and a stag do to attend as the famous ruin bars of Budapest called to me...:

A day behind schedule in the writing of this blog, but a stag do will do that too you! Tales of night time citadel summits, as the city gleamed below, visits to the palace and night life in Budapest coming up...

Alcoholic antics airborne, Budapest bound

Correct me if I m wrong, but I thought it was we Brits who have a reputation for drunken airborne antics?! 

It would appear the Finns wholeheartedly share this dubious accolade with the Queens subjects, especially those advanced in years. 

As I boarded my flight and made myself as comfortable as can be on Norwegian Air bound for Budapest. One Couldn t help but notice the ageing drunken Finnish lady directly across the aisle from me.

My limited knowledge of Finnish told me she was hurling abuse in every which direction she so pleased to do, and to whomever she cared to insult. the phrase "mitä vittu" littered her profanities, as she swigged not so subtlety from her clandestine bottle of duty free whisky. 

In and amongst her abuse and resultant school-like telling off from the air crew she found time to throw a kind compliment my way. Out of nowhere, in broken English: "l like your colourful clothes, nice green trouser!"  Smiling sweetly as she spoke. 

Then as if the brief moment of calm and politeness had never happened, she switched back to Finnish and continued to hurl insults at no one in particular. 

All the while her long suffering husband looked on, quiet as a mouse. I swiftly came to the conclusion that he was a sure candidate for victim of years of sustained domestic abuse at the hands of his cantankerous other half.

Not long after the wheels touched Tarmac, I found myself navigating the rather accommodating public transport system of Budapest towards the centre.  (bus 200e and Metro 3) 

Momentarily lost as I disembarked from the metro, confused by the multitude of exits at my disposal,  I accosted the nearest friendly looking Hungarian for directions. He was more than helpful, out came his smart phone, google maps, and after a minute or two, he directed me on my way. 

I found myself entering a soviet era twilight zone. Nestled in the inner courtyard of a 19th century apartment bloc, It was as if I had entered a 1970s Soviet style Film set. 

Soviet realist posters adorned the walls, a soviet military hat took up watch over the Lounge, my mezzanine double bed welcomed me comfortably to Budapest and so my arrival in the seat of the Habsburg empire came to a satisfying end... 

...But for my drunken mid flight neighbour, this blog would have been Budapest themed. Alas you must wait till my next post. For now, the sun drenched Danube beckons me...

A little less Ottoman, a little more Habsburg

Drunken Finns, Helpful Hungarians, an Air B n B caught in a Soviet era time warp, and a suspicious 'technical' failure in the Ruin bars of Budapest. A snapshot of my first day in This fine capital. 

A comprehensive and hopefully entertaining update to come later, but for now I venture out into the streets of Buda and a stroll down the Danube, which I am yet to set my eyes upon.

A white lie, I discovered the Danube when visiting Novi Sad, Serbia, but there the river was littered with the bombed out corpses of bridges, curtesy of NATO. Today I m hoping for a slightly more regal feel to my Danube experience, hopefully with a bridge or two intact. 

"Lets climb that mountain!" High drama on the highway to Antalya and the wonder of ancient Perge.

"Bugger it, if they won't us get to the top of this rock lets climb that one over yonder!" Was the battle cry from Charlie and with that we made out way, as the crow flies through the maze of streets and alleyways down the south side of the hill. 

Along the way we were accosted by a group of friendly youths all wanting to take pictures with the two of us asking where we were from.  They were all from Syria, a happy bunch all smiling, I guess some of the lucky ones glad to be away from the fighting. 

We gladly obliged and went on our way. The walls as you wind through the steep streets many times block the view so every time you catch a glimpse of the view down the hill through a break in the buildings you have to catch your bearing.

We ended up a little lost in a not so savoury area of the tumbledown town, a nice old man asked me pleadingly if I had a cigarette, I gladly handed a couple over of which he was very grateful. An old woman brushing her doorstep looked quizzically at us wondering what we were doing, we didn t have the language to say we re off to climb a mountain, but the base of it rests by the town's otogar so we politely asked;

"Pardon, nerde otogar?" 

She pointed down the alleyway and to the left, and soon we emerged from the maze of back alleys onto the Main Street which cuts sideways across the hill as you look at it in the pictures. 

Mardin is not a town designed for rubbish collection :) and although beautiful you do have to dodge the streams of water running down the steep streets, littered at times with rotten food, rubbish and the odd hypodermic needle and syringe complete with blood (I took a close up pic), showing the darker side to the dreamy town of Mardin. 

This should not put one of, we were walking through essentially a backstreet residential area, the beauty of the town still over rides any of the above mentioned downsides. It was an interesting juxtaposition nonetheless. 

We soon found ourselves at the base of the hillside looking up at another mini mountain to conquer. High up of the hill the local children were scanning through the rocky terrain herding the local goats. If they could get up there why the hell couldn t we?! 

The sun was beating down, but the winter temperature still carried a crisp bite in the air, perfect for a stomp up a hill. Halfway up the hill as we suddenly looked back across at the old town, the view was quite spectacular. 

If you ever find yourself in Mardin I reccomend this walk/climb. The view back across is like nothing you will get walking around the old town as the building as walls block the view back up the hill.  You see the whole place rising up to the rocky fortress on the hill surrounded by the lush green flatlands below, the higher you climb the better the view gets. 

The shepherd boys spied us from far up on the hill top and at breakneck speed with the nimbleness of a mountain athlete  sped down the mountain to enquire as to what we were doing shouting "Alo, Alo" as they came thundering down the hillside, complete in raggedy clothes and flimsy trainers. 

They were a friendly smiling happy bunch, complete with sticks to prod the stubborn goats along the way. "Where are you from!?" Was the question, the one line tht all Turks know how to say even if they speak no English. We chatted briefly saying we were heading for the top, smiling and waving they obliged me for a great photo, shepherd boys in the foreground with Mardin rising  in the distance behind. 

Not long after we were nearly at the summit as as we looked down we spied the Chinese tourist who had checked into our hotel that morning, complete with camera stand in one hand and a mighty looking beast of a photographic device slung round his neck. This man was out to take some serious photos! We called down to him, he waved and made his way up to us as we waited taking in the spectacular views! 

The trio of Englishman, Australian and Chinaman were soon scrambling for the summit through the rocky outcrop which sits atop the hill and before long we had made it! It was well worth it! The views all around were stunning. To the south across the flat farming plains you could see all the way to Syria, back across th way Old Mardin stood impressively, rising up towards the blue sky, the sheer drop down one side of the mountain made the views even more stunning. After the obligatory photos, 'look at me I made it!' We sat down to enjoy a tasty packed lunch in a not so shabby setting :)

The wind whipped across the mountain top but with the views below us to every side it was worth bearing the cold. Soon we decided to descend as the sun was setting and the temperature dropping. The Chinese man was holding out for the sunset, so we said our goodbyes, left him perched on the cliff top camera at the ready for what would  be a spectacular photo opportunity I m sure.

Charlie was heading off to Istanbul that evening and then onto Israel and Tel Aviv, he planned to go into Palestine and Jordan also, a great few days had been had having him as a traveling companion, Cappadocia, Nemrut and Mardin, but it was time to part ways and as he made his way to the otogar I stomped up to the top of the town to catch one last glimpse of this soecial place as the sun set over the horizon. 

On my walk up, as luck woul have it I bumped into the German, Michael who had joined us up Nemrut with his Ukrainian girlfriend. They had made it to Mardin! He too was looking for a vantage point to take pictures of the town as the sun set. Having been up there that morning I told him to follow me and we found ourselves in and amongst the grave stones which adorn the hilltop just below the fortress.  The sunset was something to remember, as the lights of the town gleamed in the setting dusk, the call to prayer hauntingly punctured the silence as we looked over the town and to the horizon as the sky changed to all colours of red and crimson. 

I enjoyed a tasty meal that evening in the old town with Michael and Lisa, they were heading onto van and ultimately Kars, so I gave them a few tips from my time there, wolfed down my Adana kebab, tasty it was, packed with flavours and spices and with that we said our goodbyes. 

As a lone traveller it's good to meet people every now and again, it breaks up the solitude somewhat, but I was ready to go it alone again and be lost in my own little world that I had been accustomed to in the east. The next morning I awoke and jumped onto the morning bus from Mardin to Kars. 

The sole foreign traveler on the bus I was ready for a long 17hr ride. An older gent struck up a conversation, he spoke a little English, he was a truck driver and travelled  around Europe delivering goods.  He was bound for Denmark on his next journey.  Every time the bus stopped we would disembark to stretch our legs and a friendly conversation would start up with my trusty lorry driving friend. 

The road cuts straight along the bottom of Turkey through the flat farming plains, the temperature rising to around 12 or so degrees. The sun beat down through the windows turning the left side of the bus into a furnace. To the distance on the right the mountains rose high. 

As we passed through Urfa onto Gaziantep, the friendly drinks and food attendant on the bus got his trusty trolley out ready to serve us hot and cold drinks, then disaster and high drama struck!! 

To let some fresh air in the driver had kept the side door to the coach open, as we sped along the endlessly straight motorway.  The boy lost his footing as he was setting up the trolley halfway down the coach an tumbled out of view down the stairs crashing onto the Tarmac road through the open door as the bus went  along at 50 or so km/hr! 

The bus screeched to a stop as the boy lay motionless on the road, passengers jumped off to assist him, he lay there lifeless.  Everyone's heart was in their mouths, he had taken quite a fall at high speed. There was no blood and he had a pulse, nothing appeared broken. The driver called for an ambulance, but it was taking too long.  Ignoring all safety adivce I.e recovery position, don t move the body etc. a strong chap picked him up in his arms like a big baby and we laid him along the back row of seats! on we went driving fast towards the hospital.  

On the way the ambulance caught up, the boy was carried off The bus half Conscious and put on a drip, he lay there a mere five mins or so and came too.  I thought he would be off to hospital in the ambulance.  But this is turkey and the show must go on!  They bundled him into the drivers sleeping cabin under the coach with his drip and said he ll be fine in a hour or so.  With that we sped off on our way.  Sure enough he was up and about and serving drinks am hour later, the trooper!! Only in turkey would you fall out of a moving bus at 50km, then 1

Hour later be back to work! 

Along the way a rather rotund bearded Turkish man struck up a conversation;

"Where are you from!" The standard question. After my reply he said 

"Me no English, but football, you like?!" 

It's amaIng how long a conversation you can have by essentially naming football teams/players you like/dislike! 

He said; 

"You, Manchester United?"

"Noooo"

"Chelsea?"

""Nooooo"

"Arsenal?"

"Nooooo"

Manchester city?"

"Nooooo"

Liverpool?" 

"Yesss"!" 

"Me Liverpool too!"

With that we smiled and shook hands! 

"Turkey, me glatasaray! " he said, "Drogba" 

"Nooo Drogba I said, I hate" he laughed,

"Why?"

"Chelsea and always moaning" 

I think he understood and laughed. 

Then he was back again

"Gerrard, very good, very good" and have a double thumbs up! 

It was then time to get back on the bus and our strange but fun conversation was over :)

We continued on our way, but the drama was to continue! Along came

 the Jandarma!! The army, complete with firearms and sniffer dogs!! Being close

To the Syrian and Iraqi borders, they were looking for smugglers of

Contraband! Taking all the ID cards of the Turks and my passport the dog went to work on the luggage.  Sure Enough a few minutes later he had sniffed out two suitcases laden with cigarettes! I asked the guy who spoke English how much they cost in Iraq. He said about 1lira a pack. In turkey roughly 7-9lira, so you can see why people take the risk! 

We soon had our cards and passports back, as the sun set the rest of the journey through the night passed off without anymore such incidents.  I managed to get a few hours sleep

As the coach wound round improbable

Turns up and down steep cliff faces on the south coast of turkey and I awoke finding myself nearing Antalya at around 6am.

As we drove into Antalya it was quite the culture shock. Being in the wild east for so long I had not prepared myself for the immediate change when arriving in Antalya. A real western feel to the place. Modern roads, shopping centres,

Bowling alleys, McDonald's and so on, adorned the roads as we swept into the sprawling modern outskirts of Antalya, I started thinking: "oh crap what have I done" I was so happy in the mountains and valleys of the east! 

Turkey really is a 'tale of two countries' if

You will. East and west, throw in the mix the Kurds and you have a stunningly beautiful but complex country. The east, whilst much money is being pumped into infrastructure is still very much developing, the west is already highly developed and noticeably more secular/less openly Muslim. I quickly removed my Kurdish Arab neck scarf, a fashion statement in the UK. In western turkey a sure sign for strange looks! Whilst my skin colour could make me either Turkish or Arab, in western Turkey I would much rather be considered Turkish than Kurdish in these here parts of the land.

I disembarked at the huge Otogar in Antalya wondering what was to await me in this modern Western European style city. 

I took the first dolmus of the morning into the centre, asking where Hadrian s gate was, a helpful young Turkish chap told me where to get off. The city was like any other European city. 

Hadrians gate appears out of nowhere, a roman relic amongst the modern city. The centre itself is not unappealing, pedestrianised streets and a modern tram system create a user friendly feel

To the inner city.  

You enter the old town through the remnants of the Roman emperor Hadrian's gate, and quickly come into a sea of calm. Narrow quaint Paved pedestrianised streets stretch down to the sea front, although highly geared towards tourists, this does not take away from the Beauty of the old town, littered with nice pansiyons, cafes and restaurants, I will admit it was a welcome sight after a 17hr bus journey. 

I walked into the courtyard of my pansiyon, comfy outside benches and tables all around, a friendly assistant who spoke good English welcomed me into my dorm lodgings, I was glad for a warm shower and a place to put my things. 

That is all I saw of the area that morning, I showered quickly and left on the easy to use tram system out of the city to the last stop (a mere 2tl) then caught a local bus to aksu (2tl) and had a 2km walk to the ancient ruins of Perge! Beware the tour companies will charge you 40euros to go there. Do it yourself through public transport, so cheap and no hassle at all. Plus you get the freedom of going at your own pace. 

I jumped off the local bus at aksu and after enquiring with a helpful local I was soon on the 2/3km walk towards Perge, stopping off only to buy some salep, the tasty milky Turkish drink fused with cinnamon and a sesame covered sinat bread from a roadside stand. 

As I arrived at the ruins they appeared by the road side out of nowhere. A city originally built around the 1/2nd Century BC but most of the ruins are from the Roman period. 

A huge arena stadium is on the left of the road, stunningly still in tact, rows of stone seats in a perfect oval complete with entrance arches, this must have been privy to some exciting contests and battles back in the day. The enormity and scale Of just the arena alone and the fact it was constructed so long ago was immense. One could just imagine the chariots and horses entering through the huge stone arches.

As I paid my 15tl I wandered into the main city not sure what sights were there for me to see. 

It was epic. If you ever get the time and your in Antalya, go there. 

As it was off season I rarely bumped into any tourist around the complex due to the incredible size of the place. I have not been to any other ancient city ruins before, well Nemrut, but that's not so much a city as a unique tomb and group of statues atop a huge mountain :) So I have nothing to equate it too, say for example Ephesus. 

As I walked through the city gates the size and structure of the place takes you instantly, I walked off to the left trough the remnants of the ancient baths, the intricate design and immense size was still there to see. A mixture o marble and stone construction, the weight of just one marble column would dwarf any new build home wall these days. How they transported and fashioned all this makes it more spectacular as the marble columns  glistened in the sunlight. 

I jumped through an archway and wanted to get off the beaten track of the site, by the size of it I would guess only 30odd % has been excavated, the rest remains under earth and soil waiting to be discovered! 

Through the mixture of bushes, scrub and random scattered roman stones I stumbled across a young shepherd! Turns our the Turkish archeological board turn a cheeky blind eye to the odd shepherd herding his sheep about the huge complex! 

He struck up a conversation and quickly tried to sell me some Roman coins, he assured me he found them about the site. I had no reason to disbelieve him but decided to keep my money in my pocket. I asked if you could walk through the west side as you look at the complex, he said "yes yes, very good, no problem" 

With that I continued on my quest. Dodging sheep as I went! The wall around the city is mostly tumbledown, but still you can see the enormity of its size. The city itself fell To Alexander the great with no bloodshed, it was quite something to think that the man himself had walked through these walls. 

I spied a hill in the distance at he back of the city covered mostly in reeds and bushes with a few ruins dottedabout the   hillside. Given my precious few days of hill climbing antics I made a beeline for it! There may have been a sign saying do not enter unexcavated areas, but I figured if I could see the young shepherd herding his sheep about these no go areas, it was a rule pretty much like the smoking ban, they didn t give a crap what you did :) 

I was quickly near the summit, picking my way through bushes and ruins, the sun was a cheeky 17 degrees, on leaving the hostel I was still in east mode and found myself sweating under my copious amounts of layers :) lucky I had my rucksack to offload them into. 

As I looked down from the hilltop you could see the whole city complex laying before you, if you ever go there I recommend the climb, it gives the city perspective,  and it's a damn enjoyable view. 

I descended and walked through the huge columned walkways deciding to have my packed lunch In such a fine place. A stray dog who had been following me awhile waited patiently and pathetically for some scraps, he was so skinny and forlorn I took pity and threw him some bread and cheese. He gobbled it up in no time and I knew I had a friend for the rest of my visit. He was a nice little black and grey stray and he followed me loyally as I three him bits of chocolate and bread for the rest of my amble around the ruins, we became quite the couple by the end of it! I got into the habit of calling him along if he wandered off!

I found myself finding out the areas no one was venturing into,

mist just walked down the main excavated Main Street. Whilst listening to my music I sat there drinking in the enormity and history of the place in the hot midday sun. But after 3/4 hours as the sun started setting it was time to go. A good day spent in such a awe inspiring place. Stones littered the site inscribed in perfect creek and roman showing the history of the place.

Only spoilt by the odd retired German man or two complete with ageing wife plastered in war paint walking beer bellied and topless around the site looking highly unintested in the place. (The men walking topless that is,

not the wives, :) ) 

One particular couple did provide great amusement to me though, as the topless husband was instructing his legging clad not so slim wife to sit astride/stand next to all Manner of roman ruins and columns posing for his camera complete with huge lens. I chuckled at what their lounge wall will look like after they get those

Photo s developed. But they seemed to be enjoying themselves, Well she definitely was by the poses she was pulling :) why not bring your wife to a roman ruins for a amateur photo shoot, if that's your thing! If provided me much amusement, So everyone was a winner! 

I returned to Antalya via local bus and tram and wandered Around the old town some more. Although not really a backpackers budget kind of town, as I said before, it is quant and picturesquein the   old town, and plenty to see inthe  surrounding areas. I made my way back to the hostel where an excitable table of

Korean medical students greeted me in the courtyard! They very nicely invited me

To sit with them and I chatted awhile about my day swapping sightseeing stories. They had forked out the 60 euros for the tour, I was quietly pleased with my budget self made version.  

Not one to make stereotypes ;) but there were times when I would say something they all found interesting or surprising and in unison the whole group would go "ahhhhhhhh" or "ohhhhhhhhh" with such timing I wish someone else was there to chuckle along with me, on the inside of course :) 

Today I was toying with the idea of going to Side to see some more ruins.  Having seen Nemrut and Perge and such a good

time was had at both I didn t want to soil it and see one ruin too many.  It has been a amazing trip and with the weather pushing 21 degrees today I decided on doing sweet bugger all today  :) 

I wandered along te cliff top, the pansiyon is but a 100m walk from the sea and view point. The cliffs plunge down into the stil emerald green clear waters, on the other side of the bay the snow capped mountains dominate the horizon as the occasional boat sails past.

 Local Fisherman cast their rods hopefully into the strikingly clear waters below. Casting off the many huge rocks that litter The coastline under the cliffs.

 I followed the unofficial pathway and clambered part way down the cliff, and sat there for quite a while taking in the the view and contemplating a successful trip had . 

the trip, however, is not over just yet and I found my way to a private beach looking out over the bay. It was deserted, no one was on it and the water looked so inviting.  For the price of one beer I was allowed down! For the whole afternoon I had the beach to myself, tres bon indeed. The clear water soon called me in and I was swimming in Antalya bay looking at the Mountains around and back at my still empty beach.  

To the locals I guess the water is cold, but to an Englishman, 21 degrees and 15 degree water is paradise after a childhood of visiting north welsh beaches! 

So ended my stay in Antalya, a lovely visit to Perge and a afternoon on my private beach sipping a nice cool

Beer or two after a tres enjoyable swim. 

To cap it off I went back to the cliff tops, scrambled down to where many of the local young people congregate in the evening, understandably so, the view over the bay to the mountain is perfect as the sun sets over the horizon, I found a private little spot and perched on the cliff , sat back and enjoyed one last Antalyan sunset. Looking out over the bay.

Tomorrow it's back to Istanbul for one night, maybe chance for a museum or two, The Topkapi palace. Maybe none of them ;) maybe a lazy day, we ll see. Well

You ll see when my final blog is written in a day or two :) 

A afternoon flight to London and resultant night out In the big smoke  beckons this Friday. Back to Blighty with a bang. 

Will post my last blog of this trip sometime after Friday, till then folks! 

. 

Magical Mardin, in sight of Syria.

Tired, weary but with a huge sense of satisfaction we left Karadut. Mt Nemrut was a challenge, the views, experience and sense of isolation up there with only the four of us braving the elements that day, made the whole trip to Nemrut worth it.  The hospitality of the Kurdish family who ran the pansiyon taking us into their home, a warm welcoming oasis down a pot holed dirt track, nestled beneath the rugged mountains, put the icing on the cake.

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!

Mt Nemrut! We saw, we conquered!! Kayseri to Karadut and the wonders of Kurdish hospitality!

Minutes after my last post we were ushered out of the otogar by the friendly bus company assistant with the other waiting passengers to a place half a km down the road! 

The reason for the delay was revealed, the bus had severely broken down! The back end was leaking all manner

Of fuel, Oil and water  as a lone mechanic worked tirelessly to fix it. At 3am we finally set off, 3 1/2 hours behind schedule but happy to be on our way to Kahta. 

Before I go on a quick point about lonely planets travel information. If your travelling take it only as a loose guide, go to the stations and find out for yourself, you ll often find the buses/trains go far more frequent and to far more destinations than they suggest, and even if they don t go exactly where you want you can usually convince the driver to stop in your town/bus stop if its on the way. I.e the information in lonely planet is crap! The best thing I did on this trip was leave my lonely planet on the train from Kars to Kayseri, since when I have had no problem finding my way round, a liberating experience if you will.

I did spend 20hrs on th train reading it,

So had a rough idea where I wanted to go for the next week or so, but going by word of mouth from fellow travellers and trip advisor for hostels you find lonely planet misses out a lot of great places to visit or stay. It is definitely not written for winter travel, most of the places it tells me are closed due to bad weather are still open and accessible! 

That said it is very good as a rough guide to where to go and what to do, just don t use it as gospel truth, seek out for yourself and you shall find much more :)

After discussions in Goreme with the Italian couple, Charlie and a quick phone call to Karadut pansiyon we all made the snap decision Mt Nemrut could be tackled in winter. The pansiyon owner convinced us: 

"Of course open, very good, very good weather, come come! " 

Many Turks not from Nemrut will tell you;

"No you can t go, it's snowed under." This we got sick of hearing and it made our resolve to go all the more greater!

So bus bound for Kahta we found ourselves. From Kayseri and most big towns in Turkey you can pretty much get long distance buses anywhere. After a not so comfortable sleep we awoke somewhere near Adiyaman to a morning of blue skies and sunshine. Kahta is about half an hour past Adiyaman and the last stop for our long haul bus journey. The town sits close To Nemrut dagi national park and it's the connecting hub for the trusty dolmus transit van local taxis to the surrounding mountain villages. As soon as we disembarked we were greeted by a friendly chap asking where we were going, so saying Karadut he directed us to the other side of the bus station where a line of dolmus mini buses awaited their passengers. After hearing much of Kurdish hospitality I was eager to see if it lived up to its billing, and from the very moment we stepped out into Kahta it surely did! 

The dolmus drivers took our bags and when we said Karadut pansiyon, rang the pansiyon owner and organised for him to meet us at the junction on the mountain road nearest to his house. For those of you who don t know, a pansiyon is usually run by a family who take you in and give you a room to sleep in and provide you with breakfast and supper in the family living area. 

We had an hour to wait for the dolmus to leave and the friendly collection of drivers were all eager to test their English out on us, out of nowhere one of them appeared With a tray laden with cups of itea/cay for us all to sip as we waited, free of charge. we sat and chatted about all manner of things, joking around as our cups Of cay were constantly refilled. One of the drivers spied Charlie's guitar, grabbed it out of the dolmus and instructed us to play; "you guitar, play, yes yes, very good!" 

With that myself and Charlie entertained the dolmus drivers for the next half an hour as they excitedly took turns taking picture s on their phones each taking turns to sit with us hugging and laughing saying;

"Very good, Facebook, very good pictures!" 

The dolmus to Karadut finally left Kahta and we found ourselves winding our way up into the mountains and past the sprawling lake to our left that sits on the edge of Nemrut dagi national park, the mountains looming impressively before us as the friendly dolmus driver did his best to take the mountain roads

As quickly as he could. 

Karadut sit a mere 6km from the entrance to Mt Nemrut (it's another 6km) to the top from there) a village nestled in a spectacular valley rugged snow capped mountains surround the sleepy Kurdish settlement. 

The dolmus pulled up and with a wave from the driver we were told ; "here,

Karadut pansiyon" and with that we disembarked, sure enough within a few seconds the friendly pansiyon owner

Could be seen driving up the road from his house. 

"Welcome welcome! He shouted, beautiful today, welcome! Come come to nice pansiyon!" 

We were Ushered into a small comfortable room in adjoining building to the house, views were quite something. The sun was out the mountains rising imposingly ever upwards, But we were tired!! As soon as I saw the bed I collapsed thankful I wasn t sleeping in a packed night bus to Kahta anymore! I slept straight through until 4pm. 

The Italian couple we met in Goreme were there but just leaving, they said it was well worth it, however, be prepared to get cold and wet! 

"The road is snowed over, so it's a 10km walk to the summit through at times 50cm snow! And icy at the top.

A Latvian couple were currently that up the mountain, so we could get more advice From then on their return. Clearly there were still some people crazy enough to tackle Nemrut in the winter.

We said our goodbyes to the Italians and soon met the friendly Latvians, a man mountain of a man, resembling what can only be described as Carl drogo from Game of Thrones! Complete with shaggy hair and beard! His petit wife completed the Game of Thrones esque similarity! 

Their experience of climbing was pretty much the same as the Italians, they had the added bonus of mini skis, to make the trek down a bit quicker! Both couples said its a hard trek but well worth it am the hearty meals provided in the home of the pansiyon owner will set you up of the day/eve and then some! 

With that at 5pm the Latvian couple myself and Charlie headed to the house of the friendly Kurdish family and our first experience of Kurdish hospitality. We entered The family room, in from try cold to a room heated with the huge wood fire come Cooker contraption in te middle heating the ever present tea, the wife, sons and daughters sat around and some prepared the evening meal. 

"Come in, very good very good, lots of nice food for you, sit sit!" 

The cushions lay around the room walls and soon a cloth was placed on the floor and out came a huge metal circular tray on it a plethora of food. Salad, rice with chicken, soup, flat bread akin to that of Indian chapattis and a bowl each of the local milk drink fused with spices and peppers. We sat on the floor dipping into each of the different courses on offer, eating until we were stuffed as seconds and thirds came out until we could eat no more. 

"Eat eat, very good, tomorrow you hike, no problem eat more!"

Was the cry of the father and pansiyon owner! 

We awoke in the morning early to begin our 7hr round trip up and down My Nemrut! First we were treated to a breakfast as hearty and endless as the evening meal the night before! An array of chapatti, rich chilli sauce, cheeses, cucumber, yogurt and cay, the family sitting close by, the friendly kids playing around as we ate, the youngest mustafa was quite the little cheeky rascal! 

We finished our breakfast stocked up on water and warm clothes and headed off up the mountain. The morning was perfect! blue skies and sunshine as we started on our trek up the mountain sitting just over 2100m high, eager to see the amazing and incredible ancient tomb and statutes that sit at the very summit!

But now our dolmus is coming to take us to our next destination, A ferry across the man made lake, courtesy of a cheeky dam, then onto Mardin. I shall continue my update when we arrive in the Kurdish town of Mardin nestled on a hillside overlooking the Mesopotamian plains!

....and so I have arrived in Mardin the stunning Kurdish town close to the Syrian border, but, first I must conclude my adventures up Nemrut! 

We started out and were randomly joined as luck would have it by a adventurous couple, Michael from Getmany and Lisa from Ukraine, they were staying in a pansiyon down in the village and decided like us to throw caution to the wind and make the trek to the summit. The weather was cold, but, not windy and clear skies were over us, threatening clouds over in the distance did not dissuade us as they seemed to be passing over the area fairly rapidly. 

The pansiyon owner gave us a lift to the entrance of the mountain park which is still 7-8km from the summit, there is a road nearly all the way to the top, however, from the point that he dropped us it was all snowed over. For the first couple of kilometres we followed the road, rocky snowy landscapes all around.  The road takes a fairly tortuous detour up the mountain in a round about way so we decided to be adventurous, following the steps of the Latvian and Italian couple who had gone previously.  Wstomped off the road and started up the mountain as the crow fliies! The terrain was rocky and covered in snow, we could tell by the previous footsteps it must have been soft , as the imprints were some 40cm deep in places, luckily for us it had frozen over and held our weight so walking over it was not such a chore.  We were still kitted out in full winter gear supplies of water and dry socks at the ready! 

The terrain goes up and down as it rises but there was always enough footholds and rocks to hold onto and pick your way up the hillside through the snow. As we climbed over one such hill, for the first time we saw the summit, way up in the distance, the perfect triangular summit shape is purely man made, an ancient tomb, and it rose majestically into the sky, we were however a gruelling 8km away. We continued off piste, if you will, for the next hr so so, the road winds slowly up and detours massively to the left so it makes sense to cut across land if your on foot, it's a bit steeper, but makes for an adventure and saves time. If the weathers good you can use the summit as a kind of compass, but the pansiyon owner had told us to cut across the rocks as ravines, so whilst trekking through the snow we figured we were on the right track. 

Although the clouds were overhead the sun shone through enough to make the stomp up Nemrut quite a hot, sweaty one, at one point I was down to my t shirt and glad for the 3 litres of water I had in my backpack! 

It is true to say the trek up the mountain is not so much difficult as just plain old tiring! But every time you walk up a few more hundred metres or so another breathtaking view opens up to the endless panorama of mountains around. 

About 3/4 km from the summit the mountainside becomes too steep to scramble up in winter, at times becoming sheer rock face so one has to jump back onto the mountain road as it returns back from its huge loop on the left side. From that point the road follows a pretty straight path for the next km or so. By this time the road was covered by a thick bed of snow, again it was frozen solid so walking on it was not so bad. 

The walk was made less tiresome by the interesting conversations had with German Michael and his girlfriend Lisa from The Ukraine, they too had been touring around parts of Turkey which are nearly devoid of tourists in the winter and planned to go onto Mardin, Van and Kars. I gladly gave them my tips for a good stay in wintry Kars and perhaps we shall bump into them in Mardin. 

The final 2km from the summit the road tortuously winds again off to the left and around a not so steep hillside so off road we went again scrambling up the snowy hillside to cut out the big detour. It was worth it, as we teached the mini summit Charlie leading the way the summit of Nemrut came ink view again! This time alot closer but still quite a way ahead. 

The road follows straight up for another km or so, windswept and devoid of snow, so it's a nice easy stroll as if up a country road, only 1900m odd up in the mountains. With the summit in view we made the final push. At this very moment the clouds came rushing over at a breakneck speed, within seconds we could not see more than 20metres ahead  creating an erie feel to the place, the road finished and the last 500m or so to the summit are a steep climb, up, firstly steps and lastly a scramble through the rocks snow and ice.  All the while surrounded by thick cloud the summit out of view, only the pathway to guide us.  

The pathway dissapeared under the snow and we followed what seemed to be the designated way up the eastern side of the summit, as the clouds parted slightly we could kind of follow the outline of the base of the pyramid tomb which sits atop the summit.  

The last ten metres the pathway hit a 20m stretch of icy snow with pretty steep drops of 300metres or so down the side the snow was too frozen to make a good foothold, so a quick scramble and a bit of courage was needed. Sadly I lacked the latter as my fear of heights kicked in :D at 2200oddm  up I thought I d done ok, but still my legs went to jelly as I slipped on the ice and stared down at the steep drop to the mountain base through the mist. Damn it! I could  hear Charlie and Michael shouting, "We see statutes, get yourselves up here!, but watch out its fairly icy, Don t slip down!!"

Lisa was just behind me and I confessed "I m so sorry my fear of heights has just kicked in!" As I stood there, much swearing and 'why the ....am I such an idiot!" Going on. Bless her and many thanks to her I made it to the summit. I have no shame in saying my machoness went out the window as she coaxed me up the last few metres! My legs had gone , but she wouldn t leave me and forced me up and said hold my hand, look at me, don t look down I inched up the slope :) manliness out the window :) finally getting the courage I said, ok I m good and without looking down scrambled up the last few metres my trusty Ukranian guardian angel following behind! Ah well I made it up, and if you have no fear of heights it really wasn t that bad at all. 

The view was still clouded over as we arrived but the statues were almost more impressive standing tall through the misty  view before us. Huge imposing statues emblazoned with Greek text on the back towering 5-10m high made from improbably huge stones, all around statue heads 1-2metres big litter the ground around and behind rises this gigantic man made pyramid made from countless tiny little rocks all stacked on one another into a perfect pyramid. The view was breathtaking, especially given that all this was from the 1st Centruy BC! 

Then  All of a sudden the clouds parted!! And oh my god the views were just stupendous. The clouds in places far below, you could see as far as the eye could see, all manner of mountain range formations, some snow covered, some rugged and others covered in a halo of distant cloud up above. The snowy summit of Nemrut suddenly shone in the midday sun as the blue skies surrounded it, wispy clouds floating above creating the perfect picture! The statutes guarding the pyramid covered in a thick frost shining brightly in the blazing sun and the scattered statues below glimmered in the thick snow that lay all about surveying the mountains of Turkey below as they had been for nearly 2000yrs, quite awe inspiring! 

Having the whole place to ourselves added to the experience and for the clouds to part at just the moment we arrived at the summit, perfect! I would recommend coming in the winter it's a bit of a trek as you can t drive up, but you miss all the crowds of people who would spoil the moment! I think anyway :) 

We spent as long as we could drinking in the spectacular views of the  archeological relics, the mountains below, we

Circled the pyramid to view the statues on the western side too. They too are equally as large and possibly more intricate, or maybe the western side is more sheltered from the elements. With our feet getting cold we made our way down the mountain as the mista came over again, gearing ourselves up for the 12km hike back to the pansiyon. 

We followed the road most of the way this time, with our legs tired and the must around going off the beaten track was not so inviting, but as we stumbled upon a particularly smooth hillside a impromptu  bit of sledging on plastic bags was in order! . 

As we descended further the clouds rolled away to create a perfect sunset walk down the mountain. Karadut in the distance.  Charlie getting fed up with the monotonous road marched off road again saying 

"The village is that way and it's a lot quicker straight down, follow me" 

In the setting sun the scramble down through rocks and snow was perfect! The ground when not rocky is a rich soft red earth so it was not too hard to find ones footing. The hillsides dropped quickly and we soon found ourselves tired and back on the road out of re snow and only 3km from the village! The final part of the walk the setting sun lit up the Rocky Mountain hillside with all shades  of red and yellow.

Starting at 9am we had returned successful at 4pm. Not bad. We said our goodbye to the Germans and after another amazing meal the the Kuridsh family's house of BBq chicken with salad drenched in a grape vinegar sauce, bread and yogurt we collapsed in bed! 

We awoke this morning ready for the next leg of our journey to the Kuridsh town of Mardin. Which sits picturesquely atop a hillside, lovely winding streets and ottoman building line the himlside, looking down onto the mesopotamian flatlands, just a few km away is Syria.  Mardin is where I am writing from this evening.

But that part of my adevnture is a story for the next blog! Ti then folks!

NYE Goreme style, years day, stuck in Kayseri Otogar!

Writing a blog on a iphone 3 is quite a challenge, I awoke this morning to a shattered iphone screen,

after a good NYE :D damn my clumsiness :) so forgive me if i miss the occasional spelling/grammatical error :) i am peering at the text through a sea of shattered glass trying to make out the letters and words :) 

A fantastic New Years was had in Goreme with a little help from our friend Raki. the early eve we drank and had the most interesting chat with the friendly turkish night worker at shoestring, getting a turkish perspective on all

Things from the fact he doesn t like the current president, to the problem with refugees in turkey, his interestingly liberal/secular lifestyle but, also a strong belief in Islam as the one true religion, and the wide variety of travellers he gets to meet. Some Good, some bad,some strange, some odd, Some annoying, some amazing and interesting. A Wide variety of people's of the world he gets to meet!  we ended up in a bar classically called 'fat boys' a good mixture of travellers and locals congregated inside and out on the street warmed up by a huge bonfire in what can only be described as a huge two metre wide metal couldron, kept alight by a constant supply of huge tree branches a local farmer dropped off in his tractor. 

As new year struck fireworks and flares lit up the night sky. Young locals freely brandishing flares and setting off fireworks from empty bottle s in the street. 

As the night wore on many a pleasant conversation was had with those about. People from The USA, Korea, Japan, Singapore and of course turkey! The highlight was a towering mountain of man, I can only describe as a real life hagrid, shaggy hair and beard complete with a rather fine pipe and suitable cowboy hat! 

We awoke this morning, thick cloud and fog cover all around, the town and surrounding valleys hidden from view. It looks like I times my visit to Cappadocia perfectly for the good weather we had the last few days! A power cut also sturdy the hostel an hour before we left, a weary English traveller tumbled out of the shower room complaining of the pitch dark and cold water! Not the ideal welcome to Goreme for him, I on the other hand had a perfect stay from start to finish! 

We jumped on a bus blind for Kayseri in order to catch our bus south east to kahta.  All was going smoothly as we bought our tickets and waited for the 23:30 bus. 

I currently update you still in Kayseri bus station (otogar) no sign of the night bus and it's now 2am :( with the bus company workers not speaking English our information on what is going on is limited. So far as we can figure, they are none the wiser. A few other Turks are waiting for the same bus so at least we know we havn t missed it. 

My travelling companion Aussie Charlie has taken the time to pass out sleeping, snoring rather loudly on the floor! The bus seats seem rather appealing after 2 hours on a cold metal seat here! 

So Nemrut bound we are not yet, where is this god damn bus, I shall be passing out as soon as I fall into what is now looking like a rather comfortable seat after 2hrs sat on the metal chairs in this huge bus station here. 

My time is not completely wasted,

Kayseri is famous for its pastrami, shops adorn the bus station with huge dried cuts hanging by string from the windows..  We have taken the time to sample this fine delight. As the bearded ginger haired Tikrish man cut off the finest cut slithers with a huge knife and a speed that was quite impressive, we sampled Kayseri s specialty. A tasty tasty product I must say! 

Where s this phantom bus! mt Nemrut and snow covered ancient statues are calling us! Come on Turkish bus system, you have treated me well so far,

Don t let me down! 

As long as my iPhone holds together, you ll heat from me after Nemrut, when we get there :D 

Good times in dreamland, Göreme. Plans in flux :) first tales from Kars to Kayseri and onto Cappadocia

One last night in Kars and a last meal had to be enjoyed at one of the many amazing restaurants. It is worth going there Just for the food! the best restaurant is okcabasi and serves up a menu which you will not get bored of. Due to the incredible cold, especially when the sun has disappeared behind the surrounding mountains, the lentil or chicken soup is a must for starter, served up with a huge plate of bread and a tomato based dip, which I can beat describe as having the consistency of a salsa dip, but brimming with the flavours of eastern Turkey.  The restaurant has a cave like design for the interior, the chefs are cooking all manner of main courses over the huge open fire to the right a welcome sight when coming in hungry from the cold!

After I found myself in the Baris bar cafe, nestled in the old part of Kars, a colourfully converted Building built during the Russian occupation. The building itself harks back to the design of St Petersburg. As I walked through the door the sound of a vibrant live Turkish band filled the air, the lead singer and guitarist skilfully played the baglma as the tuneful vocals of himself and the female backing singer added to the sounds of the drummer an classical guitar player, all coming together to create a perfect last evening in Kars. The cafe itself had the obligatory no smoking sign hanging high on the wall, as I entered the room was thick with shisha and cigarette smoke, if you spend more than a few days in Turkey you soon realise the non smoking ban indoors is more a guideline than an actual rule :)

After enjoying a last quiet drink in cafe Baris, which sits next to the river under the watchful eye of The imposing Kars castle up on the rocky hill, I left around midnight and took one last snap of the castle lit up in the crisp winter night sky by the spotlights dotted around its walls. 

As I walked through the empty morning streets of Kars I left with happy memories and a slight sadness to be leaving the east behind, but excitement and desire to explore a unique place in Turkey, Cappadocia! 

The station in Kars lies just outside the city and the snow lay all around as the morning sun shone down the empty streets giving a much needed bit of warmth as a navigated my way over the icy streets, trying to keep my balance with my backpack and rucksack strapped to my front and back. 

One thing the Turkish know what to do is keep themselves warm inside and as I stepped on the waiting train I was thankful for the warm blast of air that hit me as I embarked and found my seat. I suddenly realised I had left my Turkish honey and distinctive Kars cheese back in the fridge at the hotel :o 

Kars cheese is sold all around the town, shops displayed huge wheels of said delights and honey pots line the windows and after explaining to the shop owner (who spoke great German but sadly no English) using sign language I wanted just a smallish slither, he produced a huge knife and skilfully acquiesced to my request. And I left the shop laden with cheese, honey and bread for my impending long haul journey the next day. 

As you can imagine I didn t want to leave it behind, I had arrived at the station early  so with half an hour to spare I decided to leave my bags on the train and run back in the cold but sunny morning air and retrieve my purchases. The pavements being covered in ice I had to run down the road.  Outdoor exercise in winter does not seem to be all the rage in Turkey, so the sight of me running at full pelt to and from the hotel produced some strange looks from the few people out on the streets. I made it back to the train with five minutes to spare and sat down in a empty carriage food in tow. 

The journey to Kayseri is ok the Dogu expresi train which runs daily to Ankara. Don t be fooled by the name, express it is not! It's chugs along at a painfully slow pace a steam train would be ashamed of, it does however give tourists like myself time to take in the ever present stunning winter mountain views along the way. The weather was perfect and we meandered through mountain ranges at times hugging the same route as the road but more often following the main river tht runs across Turkey. The river half frozen, huge blocks of ice unable to stop the strong torrent of water from flowing as it cut its way through Anatolia. Everywhere you looked snow covered mountains towered up from the train occasionally breaking to reveal spectacular valleys and steppes, it's a ride worth taking just for the view. 

As the train continued the heating which was overly efficient had began to make me regret wearing my layers of clothing and long johns! I removed my trusty Icelandic lopa peysa and went to the toilets to remove my long johns. The toilet was a basic affair with not so clean squat hole in the ground and dirty water covering the floor.  I decided against using it as a impromptu changing room and made my way back to my seat. With the heating causing my body temperature to rise to uncomfortable levels, it called for drastic action! With a near empty carriage I made a snap decision to change in my seat :) with my warm winter coat wrapped around my legs I skilfully managed to remove my trousers and long johns and change back into trousers with no one catching me out.  Success! I could sit back enjoy the rest of the journey! 

As the train pulls near to Erzurum the its suddenly appears to the right in the snow covered steppe, the the train line hugs the mountain side.  The mountains on the other side of the city rise up to the blue sky creating an image akin to that of the one from stop Kars castle mount. 

Erzurum is one of the more conservative Turkish town and men and women boarded the train adorned in traditional Muslim dress, the women in all manner of colourful headscarfs. As the journey continued it was not uncommon to see Turkish men finding a empty double seat 

Facing east and going about their daily prayers as the more liberal Turks continued on with their loud conversation and chatter. After Erzurum the train lasses through many tunnels and slowly descends and picks up speed as it defends from the mountains passing through a huge plateaux, undulating hills all around and the standard snow capped rugged mountain off in the distance. As I watched the sun set we passed huge flocks of sheep crazing on the frozen muddy plains being herded by shepherds looking like they could do with some of the heat we were being subjected to on the train!  The darkness soon came and I sat back to endure the last 8 or so hours before Kayseri. 

Disaster struck as my iPhone battery went. With no phone I had no alarm clock and Kayseri was not the last stop, I had no desire to find myself walking up in Ankara! so I asked the young chap sat next to me for the time. He spoke Turkish but looked unlike any other Turk I had seen before, he asked me in hating English where I was from, and when I returned the question he replied;

"Afghanistan!" 

It's not everyday you sit next to someone from there and for the next few minutes I was happy to have a basic conversation 

 About what I was doing in turkey. Sadly he disembarked at Sivas an for the next few hours until 1:30am I had to struggle to keep myself awake so I didn t miss my stop. I friendly Turkish gent struck up a conversation with me as I waited for the toilet, he was of course smoking by the train door under a sign clearing explaining such a pastime was now banned :) he spoke good English and I enquired what he did. He replied he worked for DSI which from my travels in te kackars I knew was the company who were responsible for the huge dam holding projects and the impending flooding of many towns and villages! When I mentioned this he chuckled held up his arms and said;

"That's right, you can blame me, what can I say!" 

I somehow stayed awake and we pulled into Kayseri at 2am. I thought better of staying the night there, Kayseri is a boom town in turkey, full of smart new buildkng and business parks, but with little to see for traveller I made my way straight to the bus station willing to sleep the night there and wait for the morning hour long busto goreme   and cappadocia. On arrival I found out there was a bus at 3:30am so only had one hour to wait! Note to self never trust the lonely planet travel guides, they are always wrong! 

I jumped on the bus to Goreme and found myself fighting a losing battle not to fall asleep :( after being awake since 6am the previous morning. I miraculously awoke as the bus pulled into a dark bus top, looked outside and saw a sign saying 'Goreme'! I quickly got off and after a friendly taxi driver told me it wasn t worth me taking a taxi as the hostel was only 400m away I stumbled into shoestring cave hostel at 5am. Goreme is a town at the heart of the scenic sights if Cappadocia so English is widely spoken. On explaining my epic journey the night watchman ushered me to my dorm room and told me to get some sleep and sort everything out when I woke. The hostel is built into the amazing rock formations with cave like interiors, a welcoming sight.

I awoke at 10am and not wanting to miss out of the sights I made my way to the roof top area, the view was breathtaking, the hustle sits on a hill over looking the town, rose valley in the distance. Everywhere you look dreamlike landscapes enthral as you try to take in the uniqueness of the place. 

For the first time since Istanbul the first backpackers were sighted and I soon struck up a conversation with a friendly Aussie called Charlie and a Italian couple Simon and Martina. They had arrived the previous day and were still keen to explore the area so I soon found I had some company for the next day or two. Enjoying my own company is not something I have found that hard, but when you come across random travellers with similar laid back plans its good to have company for a day or two! The Aussie guy Charlie and I had no problem exchanging traveling tales, laughing and reminiscing on good times had in turkey so far.  We soon found ourselves setting out on foot to explore the area. 

A visit to Goreme open air museum is a must! Ignoring the crowds you get a real sense of the history in the maze of houses, churches and buildings hewn into the incredible scenery. Villages built into the Columns and undulating wavy rocky hillsides! The intact frescos inside the churches are quite something. After an hour in the museum we wanted to get out into the untouched countryside and walked up to the top of the hill above the museum and turned off into rose valley. So called due to the striking colour of the columns and rock formations around.  The pathway plunged down into the valley through improbably small gorges one had to scramble down and squeeze through gaps using the makeshift ladders and relying on blind faith your feet would not slip down the smooth steep rock, all the way through the valley, Byzantine dwellings remain cut out high up in the cone shaped formations that adorn the area. On our way we came across a low Korean tourist who struck up a conversation and tagged along. On asking his name (which I forget) he told us, but then exclaimed;

"Just call me Hugh"! :D 

Wanting to get a view of the whole valley Charlie (whilst being a great laugh has that hilarious habit of when talking english to turkish people has the habit of speaking broken english in a weird fake turkish accent! :D ) decided we should scramble up what looked like a sheer smooth face of with a few footholds and scrub to hold onto. We scrambled up and scaled the basalt column, and boy was it worth it, over the other side as far as the eye could see the valley spread out, cone shaped rock formations laying far below like a huge bed of soundproofing foam.

 All kinds of colours made more extreme by the setting sun. we took the opportunity to sit, drink in the view and eat our lunch of Turkish bread and cheese. the sun set and we made our way back to the hostel. 

The evening was spent chatting with our fellow Italian backpackers, a friendly pair, speaking remarkable English for Italians ;) the evening, drinking and travel tales continued and finished as Simon treated all in the hostel to a impromptu acoustic concert, playing well known reggae song after another, the Turkish residents looking on with approval, recording his every song on their smartphones and clapping saying, "yes yes, instagram!" With a resounding rendition of "jammin" by Bon Marley round the outside fire which had the whole hostel joining in the first night in Goreme drew to a close and the Italian couple made their way onto Nemrut. 

We awoke early today on New Year's Eve a amazing breakfast in the roof top garden was enjoyed as we looked out over the valley below, the hot air balloons dotting the skyline creating an idyllic scene. After filling ourselves on the free breakfast and downing a cup of tea/cay, we set off on a 10km walk through two valleys. 

We started off down pigeon valley, the pathway snakes through the bottom with huge smooth white and various shades of cream coloured cliffs rising up, formations that continued to amaze. As if designed by some modern artist. The pathway occasionally going through tunnels naturally carved through the rock. The pathway cuts off to the right after a km or so and you climb steeply up, looking back to have a postcard view of pigeon valley below and rose valley in the background. The weather  was perfect with the blue sky created a perfect backdrop for pictures. A stray dog, not rabid, cheeky Anatolian dog of some description would then accompany us vainly in the search of food for the next 3-4km, he became quite the rambling companion. 

The top of the climb you arrive at uchisar, a town looking like something akin to that like the town of Rohan in lord of the rings. Rising up fortress like on a rocky outcrop, the highest point in the surrounding area. The highlight of Uchisar  is the byzantine castle which sits at the highest point, surveying the area below. The gruelling climb up in the hot midday sun is 100% worth it and you are greeted with 360 degree views of the whole area below. We took the time to drink in the view enjoying a cup of tea from the friendly small kiosk owner tucked away in a small snug of rock at the summit.

 He spoke amazing English and on chatting to him I found out he used to live only a few streets away from me in London, holloway! And when asking where I was from he exclaimed;

"No way my cousin has just opened a new kebab shop in Warwick called castle kebab" 

"I know it well!" I exclaimed, I had just enjoying a tasty take away from there before coming to turkey! It's a small world! 

After refreshing ourselves we set off down the steep hill out of town and into love valley! Happy to report no romance occurred between myself and the laid back Charlie :D the rock formations and pathways continued much as described before, each valley however, with a new unique artistically designed smooth basalt undulating landscape, at times jagged as the cone like peaks sear into the sky. 

At one point we entered a natural tunnel, just off the main pathway, it became narrower and narrower as we could not see the end in sight! We ended up on our stomachs crawling through a tunnel which had been reduced to a mere 50cm or so high pushing our backpacks and hoping for a exit, we spied light ahead and made it out crawling to the sunshine again, this truly is a amazing area. 3/4 of the way the valley opens up to a huge expanse, and this is here you see why it retains the name "love valley" :D how better can I descibes it than, penises penises penises!! 

A huge expanse of huge phallic like rock formations shooting up into the sky, you can try to describe them another way, but you would be avoiding the obvious. Nature truly has a eye for a accurate design :D the view is nonetheless spectacular and as the sun set in New Year's Eve we enjoyed our lunch looking out over the valley of rudeness as the hit air balloons expertly descended a mere 10m above the ground in the valley and shit out the other side rising high into the sky creating a perfect panaromic picture for those such as ourselves on the ground below.

We made the walk back into town, tired but reminiscing on the feast of scenic delights along the way. We tried vainly to hitch a ride the 2km back to town, but with the sun setting over rise valley to the right, the reds and honey colours from the rocks made the walk quite something. 

We rolled into the hostel ready to enjoy the last few hours of 2013. Bottle of raki and a roof top view of the surrounding valley below to start the celebrations! 

So with that I sign off till next time. Plans have changed drastically, and tomorrow we are bound for Mount Nemrut, and a tour of the south town close to the Syrian border, Mardin, Urfa and Gaziantep!!