Where do I start, so much seen, so much remembered, so much to think about. Perhaps I should just ramble along as thoughts strike. I want to get some words down so that, when needed, I can open the memory bank and relive wonderful journey. We have toured the west of Turkey and enjoyed all that it offered but the richness of the east is compelling.

Open your mind, leave your spirit free to absorb and you will be rewarded with experiences which will change many a perception of Turkey as being just Topkapi, the Blue Mosque, the Grand Bazaar, Whirling Dervishes, sailing and coastal resorts.

I was overwhelmed by the Church of the Virgin Mary at Diyarbakir, such treasure hidden by a plain door in a back alley. The 1800 years of continuous Christian worship seem to have seeped into the very walls of the church so that it would not be possible to speak loudly or be disrespectful. The stones left behind by the sun worshippers add to the continuity, as does the use of the Aramaic language for the services. I know someone who often sings readily in old buildings but who was overcome by the feeling in this church and was unable to utter a note. Then there are the monasteries which have survived many centuries and whose original habitants would have endured dreadful conditions to fist build their places of worship and then to live there. What faith they must all have had. It was a privilege to be invited to take refreshments at a Syriate Jacobite Monastery which has been in use as a place of religious worship and school for 1700 years. I ponder on why these sites were originally selected.

SECURITY: We left Australia 3 days after the terrorist attacks on the USA. In Turkey we had two flights of about 900 kilometers each and traveled around 3700 kilometers by bus. Our route skirted the borders with Armenia, Iran, Iraq and Syria. At no time did we have any concern for our well being.

HISTORY AND RELIGION: When I think of all the armies and tribes which have wandered over what is now modern Turkey, each leaving some culture as well as genes, it is no wonder the country is crammed with hidden cities and monuments. There are fantastic ruins and enough religious sites for the whole world. I almost pity the poor farmer who tills his land only to find history beneath the soil. The cry then from historians is that all this must be excavated and preserved without thought being given to the cost to the farmer of the loss of his land or to the country being expected to find the fund.

The mosques with the soaring domes invite one to look upwards and the calls to prayer each day are a reminder of a very old yet living faith. The sheer beauty of the interior of many mosques is a revelation to someone bought up in a church which did not believe in adornment.

Antioch stretched my mind. In just a very short distance and space of time we visited the cave of St John, still a consecrated church and under the care of the Cappuchins. While there we heard the third Moslem call to prayer for the day. Next we took up the invitation to have tea at the parish church of Father Dominicus which was in the old Jewish quarter and right next to a mosque. The church is used by the Roman Catholics on Sunday mornings and Eastern Orthodox in the afternoons with major festivals being joint celebrations. The furbishments were a mixture of catholic pictures/paintings and eastern orthodox icons. From there a very short walk took us to the Greek Orthodox Church of St Peter where the service was being conducted in Arabic. The young man guarding the door said that the use of Arabic was for the elderly worshippers who had once lived in what is now Syria. I wondered if perhaps the church was really of the eastern orthodox faith however the man insisted it was Greek and had once been the seat of the Greek Patriarch. The church housed some incredible Russian icons from the time when many Russians had taken refuge there.

We kept coming upon religious jewels such as the Armenian church on an island in Lake Van, all such places respected in a Moslem country which very obviously tolerates religious differences and which cares about its past.

How do we "take in" the amazing statues of the Hittites and those on Nemrut Dag ?, or the ruins from the time of the Romans and Greeks. We saw wonderful bridges now going nowhere but which once would have been important. Then, there are the mosaics, thousands of them and carpets which I feel I should not walk on. All made by loving hands centuries ago. The whole country is an archaeologists paradise. I read of one archaeologist who prefers to call his discipline "Family History" and I think that is really what it is. All those early settlements were made up of families and it is their artifacts which teach us about their times. My pipe dream is to come back 50 years from now to see what else has been found.

We walked on part of the old silk road at Ani, just the words "silk road" conjure up visions of traders making exhausting journeys to bring goods and knowledge from one side of the known world to the other.

We crossed Mesapotamia and saw the Tigres and Euphraties, more words from my school days.

The Crusaders left their mark on Turkey but their reputation becomes tarnished as study reveals more about their deeds and misdeeds. There are certainly enough ruins of Crusader castles around to make sure they remain part of history.

THE COUNTRYSIDE: It is amazing. I recall sitting in the bus for hours one morning just watching the strata in the rocks as the colours changed from black to red to blue to green to violet to beige and all the shades in between. It was just as if someone on high had dipped a brush in every colour then shook it so that drips fell in no fixed pattern and in doing so showed us that mother nature does not need a fashion expert to fix her wardrobe.

In other places the terrain is so forbidding. I have to wonder how armies every managed to gain an inch of territory. No wonder many of them ceased hostilities over the winter, the high mountain passes would have defeated them. It was easy to see how villages would be cut off many months of the year.

The dry, very hot and dusty land around Harran would have presented a harsh environment for those from the time of Abraham. Now, with irrigation, greening has commenced and in October it was a case of dodging the hundreds of trucks carrying cotton. In contrast the Black Sea coast is always lush where we saw crops of tobacco, tea, grapes vegetables as well as many trout farms.

THE PEOPLE: We could not help but be happy with the friendliness. Twice we met young Turkish/Australian men who had returned to Turkey, one to do his military service and the other because he had to return with his parents. We did not encounter a sour face on the young jandarma guarding the roads or the police. You could trace our route by the number of jandarma or police wearing small koalas on their uniforms. Those packets of small koalas we carried were very popular. We were often reminded of the more fundamentalist society in the east by seeing the number of women, young and old, who were wearing the veil or the complete body covering.

THE CHILDREN: Everywhere, just everywhere, smiling children. Sometimes crowding around in numbers that made one fearful of getting back on the bus intact. Most though were anxious to practice their language skills. "Hullo, where are you from" "What is your name?" My name is Fatima or Mahommed or whatever. When walking around the back streets of Diyarbakir we collected a horde of children, all good natured and ever so willing to stand still for every shutterbug in the group. We saw thousands of children immaculately dressed heading for school and this must have been a real task for the mothers in areas where is was so dry and dusty. Kids can tug at the heartstrings and one in particular got to me. A little urchin about a year old, covered in dust and grime, obviously just having discovered the joys of motion, crawling up a slight rise and wearing a look of grim determination.

THE MARKETS AND BAZAARS: The real life of any old town or city is in the bazaars where everything is cheek by jowl, where you can buy or sell just about anything. A vibrant mixture of sights sounds colour and smell where we all stood out like sore thumbs and where Saffet bought some superb bread just as it came from the oven. The fruit and vegetables were amazing, a vegetarians delight. The donkey carrying meat and bones on its back was a little suspect but you just close your mind to that. The fabrics and embroidery on display made me think of paintings of medieval times when rich colours were the order of the day before today's fashion illiterates declared black as the "in colour". It was interesting to see in the markets and bazaars the various crafts grouped together, much as they had been in the days of the old guilds. The traders were good natured and not at all put out if one did not buy. One can imagine the sub culture of any old bazaar not having changed much over centuries, so. think of all the people who have walked those alleys to bargain for their daily needs.

The carpet shops were a delight and the selling pitch was pure theatre as we watched the wares being displayed, all colours, silk on silk, wool, woven and embroidered so that each new carpet displayed changed ones mind as to what was best. Only the certainty that there was just no room left in our house stopped the unloosening of the purse strings.

THE FOOD: There was such an abundance of good food and breads of every description. I would leave the rest just to be able to keep eating bread bread and more bread with real tomatoes, cucumbers and fetta. Many amazing restaurants where the food just kept coming and coming and all this done with impeccable service. You know the kebabs are fresh because they are cooked as they are ordered. By the end of three weeks we all will admit to not wanting to see lentil soup or eggplant again for some time but it was all great. As for the desserts, well I did see someone try 6 different baclavas at one sitting and not reject one. The rice pudding was always a favourite. My most remembered lunch was a long leisurely one at a small port near Magaracik. It was the end of the season, we were the only guests but the owners bustled (well, strolled} around serving as a lunch of salad, humus, local cheese, calamari, fresh fish, chicken, bread then a fruit salad made from pomegranates, pears, apples and persimmons.

THE HOTELS: Some were excellent and some were poor but these poor ones were the best in that area. At Mardin we had the room with the air conditioning, a real treat when the outside temp was around 38. We know we had a clean bathroom floor because we did not have a shower curtain so we washed the floor at least twice a day. That was also the place where the pull chain for the toilet was just out of my reach. We will not forget Sanli Urfa. There we had a room with the view direct up to the castle and mosque and where ancient history was on view with women moving sheep and goats up past the castle. At 5am, with the light just starting to unveil the hill it was a scene straight out of an old Sunday School primer. The Kalyon in Istanbul is of course our home away from home. It is not as modern as many in Istanbul but it does have all that we need. It is a great delight there just to sit and watch the amazing amount of shipping moving in and out of the Sea of Marmara.

THE LOOS: Now there is an interesting subject. They ranged from the excellent to the "oh my goodness" and "hold your nose" variety. Now that our bones are getting older we find the "footprint" type more difficult and it is very hard to raise ones self up without putting hands on the floor or walls. I still laugh inside when I think of the day we were trundling across the country with never a loo or large rock in sight. We were stopped at a Jandarma post and Sirma, our great agent, asked the young guard if we could use the loos at the command post. Well, he sort of shook his head, phoned the Commandant who told Sirma to come up. A little later she phoned the bus to tell us all to come up. When we did we found the Commandant had 3 young squaddies washing out the toilets for us. I cannot imagine getting the same sort of treatment at any semi army base anywhere else. Three cheers for Sirma and her charm.

THE CLIMATE: Mid September to early October was still very warm and dry but we all managed. It was important to drink a lot of water and to keep a hat handy. Even the mountain passes were not as cool as expected.

Overall this visit more than lived up to expectations and I would do it all again.

Gwen Armstrong
Canberra - Australia
November, 2001