Tenth week - November (Kasim) 16 - 23

Rugs – Saturday, we met with Abdulkadir Bey, our rug seller, and his wife, Neslihan, to pay for and arrange for shipping our larger rug to the States. I will carry the smaller rug back with me on the plane in December. There are several alternatives to getting the somewhat large (@ 6’ by 8') and heavy hand-knotted rug home (in photo at left). Because it is so heavy, we had assumed our best bet was to have it shipped – either to my sister’s house in Mansfield, or, if we could be sure it would arrive while I was home this December, to our house in Hampton. Abdulkadir Bey, however, suggested that he give us a piece of luggage with wheels, to take the rug on the plane (as we had done fifteen years ago). We mentioned that we no longer have the excellent courier services of Bilkent University, but instead were on our own getting ourselves to the Ankara airport in June -- first a walk or taxi ride to the subway, then a subway ride to the bus station, then a bus ride to the airport, then the plane, then Customs in New York, all while lugging all our luggage in addition to the rug and gifts we plan to distribute. Abdulkadir’s response was to offer to drive us to the airport in June!

Meanwhile, the couple’s cook was preparing a sumptuous lunch for us in the rug shop’s kitchen. Serving about eight or nine mostly vegetarian dishes, we engaged in long conversations with our hosts and a young couple who also purchased rugs on a regular basis—shipping them home to a storage site in the States. During lunch, Abdulkadir and Neslihan mentioned that a year ago, the Vice President and his wife were here to purchase rugs and have lunch with them. "Joe Biden?" we foolishly asked. No, Dick Cheney. Oof, I nearly lost my lunch. Well, not really.

While paying for the rug, and further discussing shipping, the young couple, affiliated with the U.S. State Department, offered to ship our rug to our home via APO, or the diplomatic service. They said it would be delivered to our local Post Office within five working days—or possibly longer due to the holidays both here and in the States. (Kurban Bayram here, Thanksgiving at home). For $30-$40, including insurance, we have solved our shipping problem! Hooray!

The photo above is the larger of the two rugs we bought. The other one can be viewed on my Shutterfly photo site: http://www.anatolianphotos.shutterfly.com/, along with other photos from this week.

Native American Conference - Working backwards in time, the early part of the week was spent at a conference on Native Americans at Hacettepe. More of a seminar than a conference, it included five Native American speakers, and Larry. Students in Larry’s department, American Culture and Literature, were required to attend, so there were several hundred students, faculty, and some visitors, including Embassy staff and the staff of the Turkish Coalition of America (TCA). The latter organization, based in Washington, D.C., has as one of its missions a program to bring American students to Turkey to study. (Take note, my ECSU friends).

During the two day conference, each guest speaker spoke or performed twice, except for Larry, who spoke once. The conference title, Native American Voices: Languages of Survival, led me to believe it would be an uplifting analysis of Native American resilience. Well, eventually it was, but not until after some pretty grim discussions of the suffering of indigenous peoples in America. Despite the depressing beginning, eventually the speakers addressed contemporary programs, particularly in education and literature, that spoke to the survival of Native American culture. Of all the speakers, my two favorites were Stephen Fadden, a mesmerizing story teller, and Larry, whose talk received an enthusiastic response from everyone, even the Native American guests. Mr. Fadden was a huge hit with everyone, especially the students, as he played a tune on a hand carved flute, sang a powerful song, and told stories. Few story tellers I have heard could command the kind of attention and the audience participation that he did. Only someone of his caliber could have an auditorium full of faculty members and shy students imitating American bird calls, and shouting "Hi, Mom" to his mother while he videotaped our greeting to his Mom. His second talk was more serious, and dealt with broader issues of culture. Larry’s talk was on the Pequot massacre in Mystic in the 17th century, and the removal in recent years of the statue to the American leader of the massacre—John Mason. Larry’s talk was also very well received; the students like him a great deal.

One of my most vivid memories of this conference, despite the interesting talks and the discussions with the guests, was the food. OMG, it seems that all we did was eat between sessions. Lunches were at the college’s faculty cafeteria (which is really a sit-down restaurant). Lots of good food. Dinner the first night was at a downtown tavern, or meyhane, specializing in fish. I had fried smelts for the first time in decades (my dad used to prepare them for us). Because one of the managers of the tavern is the husband of one of Larry’s colleagues, the restaurant went all out to feed us more than we could humanly consume. I even took a picture of the table full of meze, or "appetizers." By way of example, here are the desserts that were served one at a time: 1. Sliced fresh fruit; 2. Baked quince with walnuts & sugar sauce; 3. hot halve with cheese; 4. and some tasty slices of cake, with fresh pomegranate seeds sprinkled all over it, and clotted cream in the middle. The second night’s dinner was at the "White House," or Beyaz Ev, on the Hacettepe campus, where we’ve eaten several times. The food was surprisingly mediocre here. Maybe I’m getting spoiled. The third night was a private party at Meldan’s, just down the street from our apartment. The twenty five people (approx.) helped ourselves to enough food for about fifty more. The term "pot luck" seems to mean something a bit different here. My lentil dish (by request) was only one of about two dozen dishes—mostly beautifully displayed. A waiter served us drinks and took our plates and put the food out, then cleared it for the seven different desserts people brought—every one home made, and everyone amazing (tiramisu, "Turkish delight," which was nothing like the candy we see everywhere—really sponge cake and cream rolled in coconut and other great ingredients – pumpkin and walnuts, home made baklava, chocolate cake. Oy! I’m glad we walked home that night! There are so many new foods that we tried this week that I’ve begun a new chronicle of the foods I am discovering. I will post these at some point when I don’t have much else to add to this blog.

Anitkabir Spor Salonu – Larry and I ventured back to the area of the Anitkabir; i.e., Ataturk’s Mausoleum. During Cumhuriyet Bayram we had passed what looked like a large running track, so this week we wanted to see if it is open to the public. It is! In fact, it is open from 5:00 a.m. to midnight every day. We are amazed at how big it is and how many people use it. So twice now, we have used the facility, which is about a 20 minute walk from our home. In addition to the eight-lane track, which is beautifully kept up, there is an outdoor gym with about three times the number of machines we have available in our park across the street from our apartment. There are also chin up bars, stretch bars, wooden platforms for sit-ups and stretches, and free weights – all outside! Also, a basketball court, soccer field, rest rooms and, along the outside of the track, columns containing speakers playing music with an excellent walking beat. The music can only be heard as you pass the pillars; they do not broadcast throughout the park, so it is not at all annoying. Between the pillars, the rose bushes are still in bloom! We are delighted to have found this center, even though we will not be able to visit very often. It is a little too long a walk to use every day. If only it were closer. Now, if I can find an indoor pool, I will be very very happy. Which brings us to next week’s blog—summarizing our upcoming trip to the Mediterranean where, someone suggested it MAY be warm enough to swim. I doubt it, but I’ll bring my suit anyway.

Ninth week, November (Kasim) 10 - 15 - Rugs and Efes Blues Festival 20

For photos of the Efes Blues Festival, see: http://anatolianphotos.shutterfly.com/ To read the picture captions, click on "Slideshow." Or click on: "See all 22 pictures," then click and advance each picture.

I am shortening this week's post a bit. Monday November 16, begins a conference on Native Americans at Hacettepe, so, instead of beginning my blog on Tuesday, as I normally do, I will begin next week's blog on Monday instead. Besides, the week's activities of note nearly all happened on one day anyway--Saturday.

Rug Shopping Fifteen years ago, we purchased two Turkish rugs from a seller named Abdulkadir Ersoy. We refer to him as Kadir Bey, "Bey" being a term of respect for a man. His shop, where he sells hand-knotted rugs, kilims (small woven rugs), and some pottery, is called Best Koleksyon. Larry, with his remarkable memory, recognized the shop as we drove by on our epic bus ride to the Fulbright Orientation many weeks ago. In the meantime, our move to Bahcelievler put us within walking distance of the shop, albeit a long walk--about 50 minutes each way.

Kadir Bey, besides being a rug seller and chemist (he still teaches the occasional chemistry class at Middle East Technical University), also wrote several books about Turkish rugs, two of which we had purchased on our long ago visit. We found the shop with no trouble late Saturday morning and purchased two beautiful hand-knotted rugs, one of which is made from wool dyed with all vegetable dyes. Since the latter, a fairly large rug, was pretty expensive, we did not bring enough money with us. So next Saturday, we will join Kadir Bey and his family for lunch at the shop and pick up or arrange to have shipped our beautiful new larger rug. The smaller rug we've already paid for was light enough (sort of) to carry home with us in a large kilim bag given us by the remarkable Mr. Ersoy.

Our rug seller also discussed an annual tour he leads to nomadic tribes making many of the rugs he sells in his shop. Not only does his tour visit nomads, it also visits dye shops, knotting and weaving workshops, and some of the shepherds themselves. We requested that we be kept in mind for the next tour, which should happen sometime around Memorial Day.

The Efes Blues Festival 20 On Friday and Saturday night, the Bilkent Hotel hosted the 20th annual Efes Blues Festival. With Saturday night tickets in hand (purchased at a downtown bookstore that was remarkably easy to find, thank heavens), Larry and I joined two graduate students, and met up with many more, as well as some junior faculty members, for an evening of remarkable music, lots of noise, and plenty of Efes beer, on the East Campus of Bilkent University, our old haunt. I started to post a video clip to this post of one of the performers, Terry Evans. “Shake, rattle, and roll,” the content of the video, was not his best piece, but it is the only video I succeeded in capturing. However, while the video was loading, I remembered that doing so is probably illegal, so I canceled the upload. Oops. Sorry; looks like you'll just have to visit his web site (see below) to get a sense of his talent.

Arriving two hours before the beginning of the concert--in order to get a close parking spot--our student driver, Gozde, and her friend Kenan, spent time in the hotel pub, while Larry and I walked up to our former apartment complex on the Bilkent campus. Once again, my memory played tricks on me. I had completely forgotten how desolate the walk up that hill to the complex was. Walking up a partially lit (it was dark by then) crumbling sidewalk, along a heavily travelled road), to our left we saw unoccupied brushland, with a further spectacular view of nighttime Ankara. To our right was a forbidding fence surrounding the eastern part of the university. I do not remember that fence at all. Eventually we reached the apartment complex, after climbing a long steep hill. It is now fenced in as well, with a guard at the gate. (There was no fence around the apartments when we lived there). The buildings themselves are larger than both of us remembered--they each have about twelve apartments. What was particularly striking was the lovely landscaping, and cozy feel to the entire complex (after the desolate walk, that is). When we lived there, the buildings were less than a year old, and were surrounded mostly by mud. Plantings began fifteen years ago about one week before we left to come home to the U.S. Anna's kindergarten school, a mere 100 feet or so from our apartment, looked exactly the same as when she attended.

When we arrived back at the hotel, the crowds had begun to build, but we still had one hour before the beginning of the concert, so we joined our friends in the hotel bar and had a (very expensive) Efes beer. Once the concert began, Larry and I positioned ourselves in front of the stage. The venue was the large ballroom of the hotel; attending were thousands of mostly college students--all happily drinking Efes beer (I assume it was cheaper in the ballroom than in the pub) and cheering and dancing to the terrific music. Billed as a "blues" festival, there were three featured artists, each performing his/her separate set: Ray Shinnery (http://www.rayschinnery.net/html/about.php), Terry Evans (http://www.terryevansmusic.com/), and Shemekia Copeland (http://www.alligator.com/index.cfm?section=artists&artistid=41).

These American artists, who are not the "top tier" of blues performers, according to those in the know (not me--I don't know blues music much) were nonetheless terrific. They certainly knew how to play the crowd. Ray Shinnery, the first performer, was quiet at first, and had a terrific voice. As he progressed through his set, his songs and guitar increased in intensity. The crowd responded by singing along with "Ain't no sunshine since she's gone," with its repetitive, "I know, I know, I know, I know, etc." The end of his set erupted in exuberant cheers. Terry Evans, the second performer, reminded me somewhat of James Brown, but without the acrobatic moves. He, too, was terrific, and got a rousing reception by the more excitable crowd, who continued drinking the Efes constantly served by attendants adept at maneuvering through the gyrating and cheering crowd. By the time Shemekia Copeland began the evening's third set, we were all dancing and making lots of noise, with hands held high, clapping in rhythm. The excitement of the crowd somehow didn't fit into my concept of "The Blues," but who cares. (Later, people who know blues music better than I do said, "it wasn't REALLY blues music).

About halfway through the last set, as the crowd was having a rousing good time, our driver apologized profusely about having to leave early to avoid the after-concert rush. By then my feet were killing me anyway (we had already walked about 2 1/2 hours that day, and stood another 3 hours at the concert), so I was quite willing to leave early, even if the concert was still going strong. When I saw the number of cars parked along the roadway (seemed like thousands, but probably not), I was even happier to leave early. All this in one day!

The remaining days of this week were nearly uneventful, except for a second dinner party I hosted for Meldan and her brother, Ercan (Gulriz was ill and could not come). I served some of the same dishes as my previous dinner party, with the addition of pasta and my tomato sauce, and my version of the Turkish mercimek corbasi (red lentil soup), and a few other changes, cooked (again) over several days.

So now begins the big week in Larry's department. A two day conference entitled: Native American Voices: Languages of Survival, with all classes cancelled in the department and student attendance mandatory. But I’ll save that for the next week’s blog.

Eighth week - November (Kasim) 3 - 9. Roman Ankara

The highlight of this week was a walking/bus tour of Roman Ankara (then called Ancyra), led by an excellent, enthusiastic tour guide, an archaeologist from Middle East Technical University here in Ankara. And it was in English, so I actually understood what she said.

For more photos, please see: http://anatolianphotos.shutterfly.com/ (Turkey, eighth week - Roman Ankara).

First stop—the Hisar, or citadel in Ulus again. Although the inner fortress on the tallest hill in Ankara was built by the Romans, the outer wall is Byzantine and dates from the 9th century. Our intent in visiting the outer wall was to view the various pieces of Roman architecture that were incorporated into the building of the later wall. Although most of the wall, with its 20 towers, is constructed of a pinkish stone found in the vicinity of Ankara (some day we’ll figure out what that stone is), everywhere one can see white marble fragments of Roman building blocks, elaborate key stones, mantels, inscribed plaques, and so on. I’m not sure why we did not visit the inner Roman wall on this trip; perhaps because there is not much of it left. But Larry and I (and Anna) visited many years ago; I hope to do so again. It is in the center of a fascinating city-within-a-city, with narrow, winding alleys, if I am remembering correctly.

While visiting mostly the wall, Professor Guven also explained a little of the history of the town within the wall—at least the later, Turkish Republic, history. Not far from the outside of the wall were the early Republic government buildings. So inside the wall, the governing class built their substantial houses, with gorgeous views of the rest of Ankara and the countryside around the city, with its many hills. Over time, and with the construction of government buildings and residences elsewhere in the city, the citadel houses became run down, and the entire section became the “poor” area of the 20th century city. These days, it is once again slowly being gentrified, with restaurants and tourist shops everywhere, and some of the houses themselves are being renovated.

The view from the wall tells another story: there are still gece condular! In one of my first posts, I mention that these “night houses” had been destroyed and replaced with high rise apartment houses. Not so the ones on the hill across from the citadel. I suspect that these gece condos may still be around because they are older and somewhat more substantial than those that had been built and subsequently destroyed near the airport. The remaining condos (in reality, houses hugging the hillside) also lend a picturesque view from the touristy citadel, although this may be somewhat cynical of me to say so.

Another view from the citadel is an overview of what was once Roman Ankara, which takes me back to the subject of this post.The next stop down the hill from the citadel is the newly excavated Roman Theater. Currently surrounded by a chain link fence, under which we had to stoop to enter the site, this is a work in progress. It was found fairly recently, but, as it sits in the middle of a section of housing, excavations have been slow. After some buildings were cleared, the site was neglected for a time, only to become a favorite nightly hangout of unsavory characters in addition to a local dump for the nearby residents. Eventually the authorities constructed the fence and cleaned up the site; I believe the excavations are ongoing. The statues found at this site have been moved to the Museum of Anatolian Civilizations, just up the hill within the outer wall of the Citadel. Our guide is in hopes that the excavations of the Theater will continue and the site becomes an important historical park in the city.

Our third stop was the spectacular Monumentum Ancyranum, or Temple of Augustus and Rome, the walls of which contain the only extant contemporary copy of the Res Gestae Divi Augusti, or Acts of Augustus, the first Roman Emperor. Fifteen years ago, we stumbled on this site, which was covered in scaffolding and sat in the middle of a residential/commercial area. After many years of work, and many delays I understand, the site is now an official historical center and is open to the public. It is quite amazing to see on the remaining walls an account of Augustus’s accomplishments, in both Latin and Greek, knowing that this is the only contemporary copy remaining. There is reference on the wall to the “original” in Rome, but that original has never been found by recent historians or archaeologists. Attached to the remaining walls of the temple is a mosque that is several hundred years old and still in use; in fact, there was a funeral about to be held there during our visit to the Roman site.

Continuing down the hill toward the center of Roman Ankara, we passed by the column of Julian, which reputedly was constructed in honor of Emperor Julian, the Apostate. (I am currently reading Gore Vidal's fictionalized version of this emperor's life, appropriately titled, Julian.) The column is topped with a large stork's nest; fifteen years ago, we actually saw the stork land on its nest! I'm not sure there is still a stork living there, but I believe there is. The column apparently had been moved several hundred feet when the early Turkish Republic's first parliament building and administrative offices were built around the circle where the column now resides. These early Republic buildings are quite beautiful, in my opinion.

Not far from Julian's column, we had a brief view of a recently uncovered section of a Roman road, still partially obscured by an outdoor cafe. The width of the road is such that it is believed to have been a pedestrian road, perhaps the central pavement of the agora. There is no evidence of wheel ruts, so it was likely not used by vehicles.

Next stop: The Roman Baths (or Roman Hamam). First we took an elevator to the ninth floor of a government building, to look down and across a busy street to the excavated site of the huge Roman bath complex. This is in a part of the Ulus neighborhood we have seldom visited, if ever. We had no idea this was here! Of course, from the ground level, it is behind a fence. But still . . . . Once on the ground and in the museum site, we had another excellent introduction to the concept of Roman baths by our super tour guide, Ms. Guven.

First walking through hundreds of marble Roman artifacts stored on site for the Museum of Anatolian Civilizations, which doesn’t have room for all these additional treasures, we reached the site of the foundation of the baths. It represents one of the larger combined gymnasium/bath complexes in the Roman Empire, this one built in the 3rd century to honor Asclepius, the God of Medicine. With an open area, called the palaestra, surrounded by additional exercise and massage rooms, this was a central part of the bath complex.

The attached baths, with the typical caldarium (hot room), tepidarium (warm room) and frigidarium (cold room), also had a large, oval wading pool, perhaps three feet deep, where people hung out to socialize (or conspire according to 20th century Roman epics). The caldarium was larger than normal to accommodate Ankara’s harsh winters. (Rome was warmer). When I look around the outskirts of the city, where there are few trees for hundreds of miles in either direction, I have some sense of where some of the ancient forests may have gone.

At the end of our trip, we were bussed to what is by reputation the best “kebab” restaurant in town. A beautiful restaurant, alas, it served nothing but two types of kebab: Uladag doner, and Iskender doner, both mostly sliced beef. Larry and I each had a miniscule salad, a piece of bread, and some dessert. My krem caramel turned out to be very tasty “flan.” Then we went home and raided our refrigerator.

Seventh week - October (Ekim) 27 - November (Kasim) 2

This week’s highlights include the Cumhurriyet Bayram, or Turkish Republic Day (the equivalent of our Fourth of July holiday), and a second trip to Yedigoller National Park, this time successfully accomplished. For photos of this week's events, please see: http://anatolianphotos.shutterfly.com/

Oct 29 marks the anniversary of the founding of the Turkish Republic in 1923, so this year’s celebration is the 86th anniversary of the country’s beginning, as envisioned by Ataturk.

We live in the country’s capital city, Ankara, in a neighborhood within walking distance of the Anatkabir, Ataturk’s Mausoleum. So, with the university and other institutions closed for the holiday (on Thursday this year), and the weather a beautiful, warm, 70 degrees or so, we decided to take the walk to the Mausoleum and see what’s up. We knew in advance that there would be a parade and a visit by the country’s president. The latter would lay a wreath at Ataturk’s tomb (something President Obama did just a few months ago). But, before we left, we saw – and heard – the military jets flying in closely timed formation over the Mausoleum, so we figured (correctly) that we missed the President’s ceremony.

On the walk to the Anitkabir, we noted the numerous Turkish flags draped outside buildings, including homes. The flags, some of which depicted portraits of Ataturk, on official buildings and other large institutional buildings, were enormous, often covering an entire side of a multiple story building. Approaching the Mausoleum, the crowds grew thicker, the vendors more numerous (selling flags, balloons, headbands, plaques, water bottles, and simit (the bagel type treat, covered with sesame seeds—yum!). At one point, we found ourselves standing in line, waiting to get into the complex and pass through security. This was clearly the place to be on Republic Day—possibly the most appropriate locale in the entire country to celebrate this particular holiday.

Inside the complex were lines of thousands of people waiting to get into the Mausoleum itself to pay respects to the country’s founder. We decided to wait to pay our respects on another day when it was not so crowded. (In fact, we had been here fifteen years ago). Instead, we did a lot of people watching; for example, we watched a mini-parade carrying a large portrait of Ataturk up the Mausoleum steps, then down through the crowds. Meanwhile, people sang numerous patriotic songs. At the end of the courtyard opposite the Mausoleum was the burial site of President Inonu, the second president of the Republic, and a person noted for his role in the War of Independence prior to the establishment of the country. Beneath the sarcophagus was a small museum of Inonu’s accomplishments. Surrounding the courtyard itself, and behind a large colonnade, is a museum celebrating Ataturk’s military prowess and the founding of the Republic. We perused some of these exhibits to escape the crowds.

Leaving the Anatkabir complex, we exited from a different direction, walking (again with thousands of others) along the “Lion Walk,” a long, wide boulevard flanked by dozens of stone lions. This walk in particular, and much of the complex, were strongly reminiscent of Egyptian temple complexes, but without reference to religious matters. The lion walk ended with two towers—Freedom and Independence-- each containing additional artifacts and historical information (in Turkish and English). Our visit to Anatkabir fifteen years ago was with an organized tour. This time we went solo, enabling us to spend a very leisurely visit at one of Turkey’s most revered sites.

Two day later, we headed again to downtown Ankara’s Tempo Tur location, to board a bus for another attempt at reaching the Yedigoller Mille Parki (Seven Lakes National Park). This two-day trip was similar to the one that ended so abruptly two weeks before, except that the itinerary for the first day was entirely different. How lucky for us that we didn’t have to repeat the first day’s visit from the previous tour! How unlucky for us that it rained the entire weekend. (The previous tour had warm, sunny weather). The first day’s rain was light and intermittent. The second day, when we were higher in the mountains we had light rain at first, then snow (!!!!), followed by heavier, steadier rain. Sheesh!

1st day itinerary: First we stopped at Abant, a lake resort, with several large hotels and restaurants surrounding a large lake. We had two hours to wander around the lake, following a paved road, a new boardwalk through a pretty swamp, and paved pathways surrounding parts of the lake. Larry and I, who headed out on our own (this time it was okay), ate our bagged lunch sitting on a covered swing, trying to stay dry. On several occasions, I tried to take photographs of the horse-drawn decorated carriages that carried people around the lake—those who preferred not to walk, that is. Alas, they were just too fast for me to get my camera ready. We considered walking the entire distance around the lake, which was pretty big, but decided it was not worth risking missing the bus. I think we would have needed three hours to complete the circuit, not the two hours that we had.

Next stop: Golkoy Dam Lake. Driving through several villages, we stopped at a coffee shop (closed, though) on the lake, which we think may be a reservoir. As with last week, the tour was conducted in Turkish, so we don’t know the story about this lake. (We eventually found at least six people among the twenty who speak English). There was no chance, though, that we could walk around here, as the rain increased and the beach was muddy and slippery. Instead, we resigned ourselves to a less than thrilling first day.

HOWEVER, we did not read our itinerary correctly. The best was yet to come! Climbing up (in the bus) a mountain road, we caught a glimpse of a large white cliff higher up the mountain. Where we were expecting to visit a cave, it turned out that the word we were misinterpreting was “traverten,” which means, roughly, calcium formation. We were headed up the mountain to visit a mini-Pamukkale. (For information and photos of the latter, please see: http://www.turizm.net/cities/pamukkale/index.html )

First stop at the Travertens was the Cesme (fountain), where two fountains spill out warm (although not hot) mineral water. Despite my bout with food poisoning two weeks earlier, and my vow not to eat or drink anything outside, I decided to take the chance and drink some of the salty mineral water. We all partook, so I figured this time, if I got sick, everyone else would too. Our driver – everyone called him “Captain” – brought two huge water bottles to fill from the fountain to take home with him. (Of course this meant that he and our guide had to carry them back uphill to the bus, a heavy undertaking).

After we drank our fill and took our photos, we headed back uphill to the actual “Traverten,” the cascading mineral deposits formed by the dissolution of minerals in the rock by the warm waters flowing down the side of the mountain. Not as spectacular as Pamukkale, farther west in Turkey, it is nonetheless very impressive. Somebody, however, decided that this formation may prove to be more of a tourist draw if it were made to resemble Pamukkale more than it does. So (and this is my interpretation), the waters were channeled through constructed cement troughs to spill in a controlled flow to create the scalloped pools so prevalent at Pamukkale. If you check my photos on the Shutterly site (Turkey – seventh week), you will see that several decades of this controlled flow is beginning to take effect. Unfortunately, the scalloped pools are all in a row, and look very artificial. Above the travertine was also constructed a large pool and what looks like the beginning of a tourist area. Unfortunately, something intervened (the current global financial crisis? or maybe other events) to prevent the completion of a serviced tourist area, and it all looks somewhat abandoned. Nonetheless, we enjoyed it immensely. Despite my fear of heights, I mustered up the courage to walk down a small walk on the edge of the mountain to take some photos. No one, though, had the nerve to go down the stone steps leading even closer to the travertine; it was just too wet (still raining) and scary looking.

Next stop: the Koroglu Hotel. Our itinerary has this hotel listed, much to my relief. At least I won’t be eating the same food that (maybe) got me sick last time. Plus, the Prestige Hotel, where we last stayed, was awfully noisy. After a long, winding drive through the narrow streets of Bolu, the Captain (who got lost a few times) finally found the hotel – The Prestige Hotel—the same one as last time! Ack! What are we doing here? Turns out our itinerary was wrong—eveyone else’s said Prestige Hotel. Naturally, and to my great embarrassment, the hotel staff recognized us and asked how I was feeling. Turns out that we had a smaller, but better located, room, so the noise was not so much an issue this time. Besides, there were fewer people staying there this time, so the live entertainment did not continue as late. The entertainment that was there was also of a quieter nature this time—Turkish folk music. And the food was still excellent, even though I avoided most of the uncooked dishes. So, the Prestige Hotel has vindicated itself in my view. If only, now, it were in a more interesting part of town. We tried walking around the neighborhood, but it wasn’t very attractive; and it was raining. (I had left my umbrella by mistake in the bus, and the Captain was nowhere to be found).

Next day: Yedigoller!

After a light hotel breakfast, we headed out of Bolu to Yedigoller National Park. The clouds had thickened from the day before, but we all had our jackets and/or umbrellas and were ready for the long-awaited adventure.

Three hours of driving were necessary to get us to the park. About one half, maybe two thirds, of the journey took us over some very scary mountain roads. Although the park was not all that far away – maybe twenty miles? – I would guess the Captain drove no faster than five or ten miles per hour on those roads.

Sitting at a left window seat, I basically had one of the scariest views. Hugging the mountain side on the right, the bus’s left wheels (and my head) were no more than two feet or so from the edge of the unpaved, one lane road, with no guardrails. What was beyond those two feet put my heart in my throat – a drop of maybe one thousand feet or so down the mountainside. We’re not talking vertical cliff per se. But it was an immediate drop at an angle I estimate to be about 20 degrees. (or 160 degrees, depending on how one is looking at the angle; I forget my geometry here). Whatever the angle, it was ALMOST straight down. I kept looking at the trees growing on the slope (so it couldn’t be THAT steep, right?), determining whether they were strong enough to stop a cascading bus.

Then, as we climbed higher and the rain continued, it turned to snow! Aiieeee! Now we’re on an unpaved mountain road in the snow! I want to go home! The Captain stopped at the top of the highest mountain we traversed; it was sort of a rest stop, except I wasn’t sure there was a rest room anywhere. A small building sat at the summit, atop lots of stone steps. No one went up those steps; I would guess the building wasn’t open. Next to the bus, though, was a series of three small shacks, with a woman selling a variety of goods, such as large mushrooms she likely picked herself, and small bunches of dried yellow flowers. I was too cold to search for money to buy any of the flowers (forget wild mushrooms!). A small table seemingly ready for tea remained unused. We wondered how on earth this solo woman got up here, as we saw no houses anywhere on our trek up the mountain. We did see a man and some cows on the side of the road earlier; likewise we wondered how (and why) he was there. Just another mystery we will continue to ponder.

The descent on the other side of the mountain wasn’t quite as scary, but I was greatly relieved when we finally approached the park. Before entering, though, we made two stops to hike up some trails. With the rain continuing, we assumed that the wet, steep trails would be slippery, but they were not, much to our relief. In New England, these trails would have been impossible to traverse in the rain—very slippery. But I am thankful for small favors. The first trail led to a photo-op platform. Our view would likely have been spectacular if the mountains hadn’t been sitting in thick clouds, some of which were still spilling their contents on us. The second trail led to a gorgeous 500-year old black pine tree holding court at the top of a tall hill. We loved it. Both trail walks took about ½ hour each. I felt badly for the people who were not up to climbing and had to wait in the cold bus for us (about 10 – 12 of us) to return.

Once we got in the park, the rain got heavier. We hiked around a few of the lakes, while we women kept our eyes peeled for a WC, or rest room. After we succeeded, we were able to enjoy the remaining lakes and waterfalls. The park was really very pretty, but nothing as impressive as that road that led to it. I have a feeling that the approach itself is very much part of the park experience. Anyway, we saw more pretty lakes, the significance of which is that they are all on different levels and spill into each other with waterfalls. We were told that all seven lakes were once joined as one, then separated. I don’t quite get it, but I’m sure there is some geological explanation for this phenomenon.

Before tackling the last lake, we decided we were too hungry to do so. So, while the Captain cooked kofte (like little hamburgers), sausages, and tavuk (marinated chicken), we – too hungry to wait – made cheese and veggie sandwiches, and wolfed them down with relish. All while hovering next to the barbecue pits, covered with a leaking roof that fit only a few people under it at a time. The rain kept getting more insistent, and we all started to shiver from the cold. Any wonder, then, that by consensus, we decided to cut the day short and skip the last lake hike? Off we went, back to Ankara, with one rest stop at a place where I could have spent a fortune on locally packaged treats.

And no food poisoning! Yay!

Brief artistic interlude

Here I take a brief break from mostly text. If you go to my Shutterfly share site, you will see some fascinating (to me anyway) artwork surrounding us at Hacettepe. These contemporary ceramics are all found in one building on the Hacettepe University campus, and, although recent, represent a rich tradition of Turkish pottery. Included also are a few photos of stained glass panels in the building. To see the remaining photographs, please go to: http://anatolianphotos.shutterfly.com/

Let me know what you think.