Voyages in Kebabland, Part III

Izmit (and Iznik) --> Bursa --> Egirdir --> Ankara (again) --> Safranbolu --> Amasra --> The Black Sea coast --> Amasya

Wow, that's quite a list. Before I go any further, I'd like to show you the map that I made which shows where I've been.

Since I last got around to writing about my adventures I've been up to a bit (which is a good thing as that's what I'm supposed to be doing). After finishing the well-worn tourist track along the Med and Aegean coasts I skipped through Istanbul and aimed for Ankara again because of a need to double-check about getting a Syrian visa. Easily done!

I had planned to stay with Alper again and simply had to meander to Ankara and arrive after the weekend. But what to do during this weekend? A quick scan of Lonely Planet shows that the pleasant lake-side town of Iznik is worth a look so I promptly headed towards the post-industrial metropolis of Izmit. Iznik and Izmit not only have similar names, they are very close to each other and so appear in the same section of the LP. As it happens I was Couchsurfing in Izmit and had a great time anyway (even if the locals readily admit that there is no compelling reason to ever go there). And, as Iznik was nearby, the next day I was chauffeured to the minibus station and had a relaxing journey through stunning farmland scenery to my planned destination of Iznik.

After a few hours of wandering through Iznik (which is very small) I continued to Bursa, the old Ottoman capital. It's quite a big city with lots of apartment blocks and traffic but also an old town built on the hillside filled with old Ottoman houses (you can see some of these in my photos).

Still one day to burn and LP shows the picking to be a bit sparse so looking further afield I was drawn to visit Egirdir (which I first saw on an advertising poster). It's a wee lake-side fishing town with parts of the town built on islands connected by a causeway. The best thing about it? It's sooooo quiet. In fact, during breakfast (outside, under the awning blocking out the bright morning sun) there was just silence. Perfect. However, it's also very small with little to do there except climb the substantial hill behind the town to get great views and photos. Which I did.

Finally in Ankara! Time check: 9am, off the the Syrian embassy. I arrive to find a building designed as a fortress (the Iranian embassy was positively welcoming compared to this place) and a Consular Affairs office which was a little port-a-cabin by the roadside (but still behind the large fence). As it turned out the visit was a waste of time as I knew more than the lady in the port-a-cabin who is presumably there to help. Oh well.

So, the tourist trail done and needing to reach Iran within a few weeks to make use of my full 30 days of visa I set off for the Black Sea coast with a plan to then head east until the frontier was reached. First stop: the World Heritage Site of Safranbolu (which, as the name suggests, has a past rich in safron). Basically it's like someone pressed a pause button a long time ago and left the town as it is (which happens to be beautiful): a hillside dotted with old cottages and, yep, Ottoman houses.

Off then to the coast! The wee town of Amasra sits on the bottom of a big hill, on a small harbour: good for a stroll and lots of photos. The key attraction, however, is the road between Amasra and Sinop - a small, pot-holed track moseying along the very hilly coast. I had cunningly planned to spend the next day working my way by minibus to Sinop where I would stay with another Couchsurfer, Cem (pronounced Gem): this is an 8 hour ride noted LP, leave plenty of time to get to Sinop.

So, at 10.30 am the next day the bus to Cide rolls into town and I'm on it! After a few hours I arrive as planned in town (which looks quite run down and tired) and head straight to the bus office, however ... disaster strikes! Foolishly I had traveled on a Sunday (I didn't actually check the days and have generally lost track of which day it is - after all, every day feels like the weekend) and the next bus to Sinop was at 3pm the next day. Or I could take the minibus inland to Kastamonu and then to Inebolu, back on the coast further east (making the next day's trip to Sinop even shorter): easy decision, I'm goin' to Kastamonu! And, I can say I don't regret doing so as the minibus driver (who was clearly in a hurry) tore around mountains shrouded in low cloud and fog - great scenery, just not enough time to look at it :)

Arriving at Kastamonu, I head to the bus ticket office and find that ... disaster strikes! The 7pm minibus to Inebolu is full and the next bus is at 10pm (meaning I arrive at midnight) I decided that the obvious thing to do is to hunker down in Kantanbolu, specifically the covered bus station part of Kastanbolu and take the 7am minibus the next morning. Good for the budget, bad for sleeping (the only seats were moulded metal). The security guards were very kind and didn't kick me out into the ongoing downpour so I can't complain.

Suffice to say, I complete the journey the next day and spend a pleasant 24 hours with Cem, who turns out to be a physics fan and marine engineering student who is heading to Auckland to study. As you can imagine we had enough to talk about, in between touring the abandoned prison (decommissioned in the mid-90s with parts of it used as a TV set for Turkish daytime TV) and the city walls. I can also recommend the Turkish dish call Manti, ravioli with yoghurt and / or chopped walnut spread on top: so good that I could have married it.

You'll be pleased to know that these few travel hurdles are behind me and I made my ways, no worries, to Amasya. Amasya is kinda like Safranbolu (in that it's small, quaint and has old houses) but has a river running through it. They also have some old tombs built for the remains of Pontic kings (so, of course, Amasya is in the Valley of the Kings). Aside from these claims to fame, Amasya also fires an old Russian cannon from the citadel overlooking the town to mark the end of daily Ramadan fasting - which explains why noone panicked when a deafending explosion rang out each evening.

And now, as I write, I'm in a small hotel in Trabzon (I'll add details later, I've just arrived). Next up: Sumela Monestary (near Trabzon), Kars then Dogubayazit before jumping the border into Iran.

Keep cool,

Stephen