Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Did I say the battlefields... I meant the Greek ruins... And I saw Dawn's crack yesterday...


Again, what is it - a competition? I have to say if it is then my internal alarm clock has outdone itself... I set my alarm confidently for twenty minutes to eight this morning, yup-you read right. I decided on a beeg sleep in but... The first, the man sitting in the tower woke up abruptly and then sang about it... After his call for the morning prayer, that makes it sound like he is at the end of your bed, I successfully managed to roll over and doze off again... But the eager beaver internal alarm woke me up half an hour later.

I sprung out of bed with the final mission of packing my bags for the seventh time. Twenty minutes later I had accomplished this easily! The ritter sport had made it easily into the bag along with a few of my clothes. Not too many of my things were sacrificed for our beloved chocolate.

I have completed my third turkish breakfast, and decided to sample of the pudding type things on offer. Some of them were decent, others can stay here in turkey.

Now yesterday... What a day. The first sparrow hadn't even thought of farting before I was whisked away on a bus. There were seven of us in total making the five and a half hour trip. Two americans, four australians and me. The american couple were text book americans, loud, full of themselves and I found it completely intriguing that she asked all the aussies if there great grand fathers had fought in world war one. I thought that was a fascinating introduction and straight away pegged her as a bit of a loopy character.

We zoomed up and down mountains where the temperature on the bus plummeted, scarves, gloves and jackets were worn for the duration of the trip. Our driver weaved up and down the hills where you couldn't see ten meters in front due to the thick fog! But he super humanily did so and still had the confidence to scratch around whenever his phone rang. Just before midday we descended on a small little fishing village where we were greeted by TJ, the man of the village. And he had a very thick aussie accent! He explained we would go have lunch and then head to the battlefields.

Now here I thought, interesting... Perhaps the ruins had had a big battle close by. Still I thought nothing of it. We walked around the city square and admired the amazing bronze statue. Then we were joined by two more americans and away we went.

With in half an hour we were at our first stop, walking around a pristine Anzac memorial. Signs everywhere saying that this was a cemetery and be respectful it was only here that I started thinking that this was a bit young for greek ruins... Six stops later, and a whole history lesson by the most wonderful tour guide ever, I knew that I wasn't going to see any ruins on this trip! We visited trenches, memorial sights, cemeteries and battlefields. Mohammed the tour guide told us stories of heroes, turks that got lost in the trenches and landed up on the wrong side with a fully laden donkey carrying water and gave the supplies to the enemy. It was a fascinating trip, one that I hadn't expected but was good non the less.

Four hours later we landed back in the fishing village and I met a chess player and we chatted about different sports in the media and how the greatest chess player of our time is turkish and no one is aware of this. A conversation was cut short by the arrival of his ferry. I was left with the two aussie blokes waiting for our bus as Mohammed and the remainder of our tour party headed off on a ferry across to the ANZAC hotel.

The three of us wondered around the village, enjoyed a cup of apple tea, watched dogs chase tractors and ate a quick kebab before our bus arrived on the next ferry. It was a big luxury bus, TTtG would have been impressed. We hopped on and away we went. Six hours later we arrived in the underbelly of the biggest bus terminal imaginable. Hundreds and hundreds of coaches lined the sides and it took us about four levels till we eventually landed at the arrivals. We met our hotel transfer and were joined by a lovely couple from the blue mountains. Our driver eventually whisked us away in the direction of sultanahmet. The aussies all hung onto the seat as the driver flew through the streets. It was similar to south african driving. South african minibus taxis eat your hearts out!

I have just gone for my last walk up to the blue mosque, admired her beauty and got myself a bracelet. I now am packed and good to go. The airport shuttle arrives in twenty minutes and then I am homeward bound. It has come all too quickly!

Hugs from pooh bear and me :) and the kiwi beanie that miraculously still sits on my head... 

ANZAC memorial with names of all those that were lost.

Head Stones in ANZAC graveyard.

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