"Turks Do Not Steal!"

So it’s spring and time to hit Eastern Turkey. In fact we did damn near all of Turkey in two months, but the East has the longest lasting memories. It started being constantly strafed by storks! They flew about five feet above the one lane road, playing chicken with us in our truck. At the last second, they zoomed just enough to clear the roof. A couple of them dragged their feet along the top. They also nested every fifth telephone pole for at least 100 Kms.

Then we had went to Ani, which is on the old USSR-Turk border. This is where Marco Polo stepped off into the vast lane. When we were there, the Russians had a block house every three hundred yards, and we were told we could not look at them or we might be shot at. I said BS to that! Oh, our guide was also in civies. It was a wonderful place, with really great ruins. Go there. And also to Mount Ararat where the Ark came down. But climbing it is pretty dangerous Because of the packs of wolves and wild dogs. It’s okay. You climbed one you climbed them all. Tiresome and boring. The villages are weaving centers for rugs and kilims. Go to as many as you can. Whoops. As many as you can and not get bombed on the local teas!

No matter where, you will meet a twelve year old boy who wants to speak English, but you will end up in his uncle’s carpet shop. That is fun. More tea, many rugs, good prices. We, err, Marilyn bought 31 pieces in Turkey and we didn’t have a floor to lay them on. We almost do now! And Van! Do not miss this place. 1000 year old walls, huge crusader’s castle on a high bluff, and a wonderful 10th century church out on an island. A US buck for ferry fare on a row boat/ guide.

Drive up Nemrut Daggi early so you can see the sun rise hit the statues. Before to walk a couple h hundred feet to your right when facing the first ones. The second is outrageous, but most tourists never know it’s there. Oh, it’s windy and cold at 11,000 feet. Even in August. We slept near the summit and the wind damned near blew our truck off the cliffs. A VW van with Hippies left. And the ice cream all over Turkey is YUMMM as is all the fruits and if you’re a melon freak like I am, this is Eden! Eight of them, all year long. Go! Buy cherries from the road.

Now, Turks do not steal. We are in Van. The campground is the high school compound, so you have a toilet bloc. It’s a a paved playground surrounded by ten story apartments. Maybe, that isn’t too clear any more, but it is a vacant playground. We bed down in the truck. It’s been a wet day. My sneakers are soaked, so I put them on the roof to dry. Marilyn objects, but what does she know? I’m the world traveler! So they stay. We’re awakened by a male child screaming in pain and a deep Turkish voice shouting the same phrase over and over; punctuating each crack. We look out the truck cap’s window. Sure enough, a male mature Turk is lambasting a kid. My shoes are laying on the tar. The kid breaks free and runs off. The Turk puts my shoes back on the top of the truck. And there are maybe fifteen or so other Turks milling about, smiling and gesturing at our window. They shake their heads trying to tell us Turks do not steal, Amja. That’s old uncle.

When we crawl out a bread vendor sells us some really fresh hot bread, and we see we have company. Another van, French couple. One spoke Turkish. We feast on bread and fresh marmalade, as he tells us he speaks the language a little and offers, ‘ He was yelling, “ Turks do not steal!”’ then we compared notes. They had been along the Black sea coast and told us not to miss it, so we didn’t. It was wet, rainy at times but outrageous. That’s why we go back. GO!
Ani Photos @ http://www.landmarksfoundation.org/projects_ani.shtml