IN TURKEY WINTER 2010/11

Barry and Margaret Williamson
December 2010 - January 2011

After a summer-into-winter motorhome journey from the UK through northern Scandinavia and down through the Balkans, we entered the far north-eastern corner of Greece and drove south to Alexandroupolis. This was the beginning of a winter tour of the Aegean coast of Turkey, a journey now in the making. Our guidebook is to be Freya Stark's 'Ionia' (Tauris Parke Paperbacks 2010), an account of a journey she made in 1952. Just as she followed in the footsteps of the 5th C BC Greek historian Herodotus, noting all the changes since ancient times, so we plan to follow in her footsteps, noting the more recent changes. Not least, in many months of travel she met only one other tourist!

The image shows our crossing of the Dardanelles: from Eceabat to Canakkale; from Europe to Asia Minor. For many more images of this journey, click: In Turkey 2010 in Pictures

For a summary of our travels in 30 countries throughout the whole of 2010, have a look at our newsletter 2010: A Year of Two Halves, complete with photographs and maps.

For our journey south through Romania and Bulgaria into Greece, click: Romania and Bulgaria 2010

For previous journeys in Turkey, click: The Complete Circuit of Turkey 2008 and Tour of Cappadocia 1997.

Map of the Route in Aegean Turkey

DECEMBER 2010

Biser, Bulgaria to Alexandroupolis, Greece     Alexandroupolis Municipal Camping     €18.30 (after CCI discount)     122 miles     15 ft asl

After a month of mild weather, which felt positively tropical compared with news of exceptionally Arctic conditions in Britain, winter suddenly caught up with our corner of Bulgaria in mid-December, when the wind turned to the North. We left Camping Sakar Hills on a Monday morning (13 December) just as it began snowing, bidding Matt farewell as he set out for Harmanli to have winter tyres fitted.

Our first stop was 7 miles down the highway in Lyubimets for fuels. Petrol/diesel are now much cheaper in Bulgaria than either Greece or Turkey, and we also filled the LPG tank (for domestic use) as 'Autogas' is rarely found in Greece. The filling station did take credit cards but we spent our remaining Bulgarian currency. We also took the opportunity to renew the Bulgarian vignette in case of a border inspection, buying the minimum 7 day sticker for the equivalent of €5, much cheaper than a fine.   

Keeping on the old highway towards Svilengrad (rather than left onto the motorway for Turkey), we then turned right at 14 miles onto a well signed dual carriageway for 1.5 miles to the Greek border. The Bulgarian exit post (passport check and a quick look inside the motorhome) was separated by a mile of no-man's-land before entering Greece (with another passport check). We had some snow on the road through the border regions but as we went south into Greece, on the well shod E85, the snow turned to sleet, then rain and then dried up.

We crossed the River Arda, in full flow at 36 miles, then turned off 10 miles later at Orestiada North (the first Greek town). At Alex Pak, a large DIY store on the way into the centre, we bought a new fan heater to replace the one that Barry had mended – and a good buy it proved to be (much more heat for the same 1 kW setting). Squeezing through the town centre - busy with shops and shoppers - we turned right at the main square and drove a mile (keep left when the road forks) to Lidl and its generous car park. An hour later, after coffee and shopping, we walked back into the crowded centre of Orestiada for our second treat of the day – lunch at Goody's in the square, graced with an unlikely looking Santa and some fibreglass reindeer.

Back in the motorhome, we rejoined the E85 highway at Orestiada South (at 51 miles), just as it began to rain again. By the time we passed the exit for Didymoteicho, 9 miles later, it was sleeting. The next 10 miles of unimproved old road alongside the railway awaited roadworks, then the highway was good with 2 snow ploughs at the ready, though it was only settling on the higher hilltops. This is an agricultural area, with a sugar beet factory and a depot for the trucks that carry the cotton crop from the fields in autumn. It felt good to be back in a country that at least appears more prosperous than Bulgaria, with well-stocked shops, well tended cemeteries, nativity cribs outside the churches and warmly dressed people, whatever the financial news says about Greece. We were, however, shocked at the rise in petrol price over the last year – now a record €1.60 per litre (compared with €1.10 in Bulgaria). One way of forcing Greeks to pay their taxes, we guess. We also noted that VAT had risen from 9% to 11% on all food – and this even applied to medicines in the pharmacy.

After a total of 96 miles, we turned right onto the new A2/E90 for Alexandroupolis (rather than left for Turkey), also dubbed the 'Egnatia Odos'. This 4-lane toll-free motorway ran through some high country (max 575 ft/175 m) with mist and snow, until we turned off at the sign for Alexandroupolis airport and port at 112 miles. Dropping down to the coast, we met  and rejoined E85 after 6 miles (opposite another Lidl) and turned right (west) to drive through the centre of Alexandroupolis. A sign showed the temperature as 5ΊC at 3.45 pm.

The extensive municipal campsite (signed) lies along the Aegean shore, a mile west of the town centre (turn left into the entrance at traffic lights). It's open all year, with a town hall employee sitting in Reception all day with the standard Greek attributes – cigarettes, TV and little or no languages other than Greek. We have the entire site to ourselves, complete with clean hot showers and (new since our last visit) free WiFi, though there is still no washing machine. There is also a new ATM at the site – useful, as payment must be in cash Euros.

We parked with a sea view through the windscreen and settled in as darkness and rain fell. A text message from Brenda & Adrian, back in Biser, described walking through blizzards, their car snow-bound, while here about 100 miles south it's several degrees above zero! Thanks to internet weather forecasts, we left in the nick of time.

At Alexandroupolis     Municipal Camping

This campsite is described as being '7 verdant hectares' - that is, there are a lot of trees, complete with robins (and a pair of pretty ginger kittens for us to feed). We were joined in our splendid isolation by one English motorhome, carrying a friendly couple (Barrie and Margaret!!) on their way to Kusadasi on the south coast of Turkey, where they own an apartment. We had two pleasant evenings together, hosting each other to tell our stories and compare motorhomes (as you do) before they continued on their way, with an invitation to visit them if we pass.

The weather remained dry and cool, above freezing – apart from the day we walked into town to post some cards, when it sleeted! At this time of year Christmas emails and ecards start to arrive from friends far and wide. It's good to hear their news, especially those we haven't seen for some time, and we were kept busy on-line. We recycled an ecard from Dr Bob & Sandra in Spain, featuring Santa and his musical reindeer band – great fun. We also wrote our own end-of-year review, processed photographs, updated the website travelogue, wrote letters and cards to family, ordered on-line flowers for M's Mum, etc. It will be good to head for Turkey (very appropriate) with all correspondence up to date.

The campsite WiFi is good except that – a BIG negative – it cuts off every 30 minutes without warning, all day long, meaning you have to log in again every half hour, often losing work! What a crazy system (perhaps designed to prevent the downloading of films?) Naturally, we reported this to 'Reception' who claimed to know nothing about it (has no-one ever mentioned it to them before?!) and then decided it must be a fault on our laptop (both of them, different makes and ages?!) When we persisted, adding that the same happened to the neighbouring Margaret and Barrie, a phone call was made to the 'technician' but nothing happened. After all, this is Greece.

With fresh and waste water tanks filled and emptied, we headed east through Alexandroupolis, pausing at a fuel station (still slightly cheaper in Greece than Turkey), then at Lidl after 5 miles. Well laden (including bacon, ham and pork chops!), we took the next left along the (unsigned) road north past Amfitriti village, joining the E90/A2 motorway at 10 miles. We seemed to be the only vehicle heading for Turkey!

At 26 miles we passed the exit for the road north to Bulgaria, then 5 miles later we reached the Greek frontier and a passport check. Two miles of no-man's-land spanned the River Evros border, its marshy margins lined with empty stork nests, before we were halted at the Turkish frontier. The border post was remarkably quiet, just one car in front of us and no trucks - on a Monday morning.

The sequence unfolded: show passports to Police; walk across to buy 3-month visas in hard cash (€15 or a bargain £10 each); return to Police to have visas stamped; drive on to next booth for scrutiny of vehicle documents and the all-important Green Card insurance; walk across to Customs to have vehicle details entered in driver's passport (and a look inside the motorhome); and finally exit, with a final check of passports (and assurance that the covered bicycles on the back were not a motorbike – for which more documents and insurance would be needed). Somewhere during this ritual it began to pour with rain.

We were now free to continue east on the quiet, if rougher, E90 past Ipsala to the Kesan crossroads at 49 miles, where 2 men balanced trays of sesame bread rings on their heads, selling their wares at the traffic lights. This important junction (left for Edirne, straight on for Istanbul or right for Gallipoli) is marked by a new Kipa (Tesco) supermarket on one corner and a shopping centre with Burger King, Migros supermarket and an ATM on another. We turned left to get New Turkish Lire (YTL, currently at 2.3 = £1) - and spent some of them on a fast food lunch, before turning right for Gelibolu (Gallipoli).

As we drove south on the E87/D550 dual carriageway, delighted at the lack of traffic (partly due to the extortionate price of fuel), the misty rain gave way to a watery sun. The empty road rolled through pine forest, with a view of the Aegean Sea from the highpoint at over 1,000 ft/330m – a climb we remember well from cycling this route on a summer ride from England to Istanbul over 20 years ago.

The dual carriageway reverted to single lane road at 73 miles, though it is being widened. 20 miles later at the port of Gelibolu we met the shore of the Dardanelles. Asia lay across the water as we continued along the eastern edge of the Gallipoli Peninsula, with the pine clad hillsides of the Gallipoli National Park to the west.

At 118 miles we passed the right turn for Kabatepe and the Gallipoli battlefields and memorials. However, we've explored these in depth in the past (see November 1997 and April 2008) and Kum Camping is closed at present, so we continued into the port of Eceabat and followed the signs for the ferry across to Canakkale. The large free car park by the dock was empty, unlike previous summer visits when the whole area was a chaotic gridlock of trucks!

We parked by the water's edge, watching the shipping on its way to/from Istanbul and the Black Sea. A few fishermen on the bank packed up as dusk fell around 5 pm, the dark clouds illuminated by a full moon. With no WiFi or Radio 4 to distract us – and only Turkish TV channels – we settled down to read after supper. Barry is enjoying Freya Stark's 'Ionia' describing her journey on the west coast of Turkey in the early 1950's, while M is exploring a little further afield with William Golding's 'Egyptian Journal'.

Click: Images of Eceabat and the Ferry across the Dardanelles to Canakkale and Asia Minor

Eceabat to Troy, Turkey     Troia Pension & Camping     30 YTL (25 YTL for 3 days+)     26 miles     170 ft asl

After a warm night (no heating needed), we checked the times for the 30-minute crossing to Canakkale, then walked round the impressive new 'Respect the History Park' next to the ferry. This memorial/outdoor war museum, with a model of the 1915 battlefields and a reconstruction of trench warfare, was funded in 2006 by Opet (Turkey's national petrol company) as part of a splendid project that involved rebuilding work in various villages on the Gallipoli Peninsula. Opet donated paint to residents to restore their homes, erected monuments and hung giant screen-print canvases which illustrated the campaign on the facades of buildings. This was all very well done, with the emphasis on the Turkish victory (don't mention the Germans) and the motto 'Everything is for a Modern Turkey'. The great man Ataturk himself would have approved.

We boarded the 10 am ferry (running every half hour) for a fare of 35 YTL and had a view over Eceabat from the upper deck. The boat was quiet (only 6 cars and no trucks) and the town peaceful, though a high-rise pension called 'Hotel Crowded House' reminded us how busy the area can be in summer, especially around 25 April - Anzac Day. As we crossed the Dardanelles (the Hellespont of antiquity), there was also a good view of Kilitbahir, south of Eceabat, with its 15th C castle built to defend the strategic strait.

Arriving in Canakkale, a large bustling harbour town that is a popular base for exploring both Gallipoli and Troy, we made the mistake of following the road signs for Troy and Izmir. Instead of taking you directly onto the southbound E87, they lead the hapless motorist several miles north and east, then circle back to meet E87 at Kepez, by a Kipa hypermarket. Next time we'll ignore them and trust the SatNav. Having driven 10 miles, thanks to this detour, we paused at Kipa for a few items, such as Turkish bread – delicious and at a price that makes the breadmaker redundant!

Continuing south on the E87 dual carriageway we had a good view of the tip of the Gallipoli Peninsula, with the tall Turkish war memorial at Abide. At 20 miles the new 'Troy Park Restaurant' overlooking the water sported the inevitable wooden horse. Then 4 miles later we turned right (signed Troy National Park) along a country road, edged by olive groves and ploughed fields. The occasional shepherds watched over flocks of sheep and goats, kept for Trojan cheese and milk.

Two miles along on the right (and half a mile short of the archaeological site of Ancient Troy), the all-year ACSI-listed mini-camping/cafι/souvenir shop welcomed us, in the person of Grandma, waving us into the gate with her stick. She remembered our phone call and assured us that her English-speaking son would soon return. We settled in the small garden (complete with hook-up), watched by an extended family of tortoiseshell cats. See http://www.troiapension.com/ for more details.

After lunch we took a walk along the road as far as the entry box to Ancient Troy, passing more cafes and gift shops, as well as 'Schliemann's House'. This reconstruction of the humble cottage was built by a German TV company making a film about the Heinrich Schliemann, the German treasure-hunter who trusted to Homer and uncovered the site in the 1870's. He went on to excavate at Mycenae in the Greek Peloponnese.

We've visited the historic site twice in the past – the first time back in 1989 when it was unguarded and free! (See Newsletter for 1989, Diary for November 1997 and the Newsletter for 1997). Looking over the gate, we wondered what the Japanese coach party made of it all, as they photographed each other peering out of the windows in the giant wooden horse! Entrance is 15 YTL per person (guided tours extra).

Back at our peaceful little campsite, the owner turned on the cafι's WiFi internet, enabling us to listen to Radio 4 while we made dinner, followed by a DVD film on the life of Jane Austen. It seems that 'Pride and Prejudice' was almost autobiographical. The only disturbance was the call to prayer from a minaret in the nearby village of Tevfikiye.

The weather remained beautifully mild (17ΊC) and dry, with a warm wind – ideal drying weather. We duly did the laundry and cleaned the van, as well as making full use of the internet during the daytime. It was turned off in the early evening, once the cafι closed.

It's a short walk into the agricultural village of Tevfikiye, with a couple of mini-markets for bread (fresh daily) and a small produce market on Sunday morning.  The largest building is the mosque, painted in shades of green, opposite the tea-house where a few old lads sat over their glasses of cay – the equivalent of the Greek Kafenion where men retreat to play cards or backgammon and read the papers. A travelling greengrocer also called at the campsite, selling local fruit and veg, and we saw a van selling fish in Tevfikiye.

In the larger village of Kumkale, a couple of miles north, there is a big market on Wednesdays, where we met a helpful German-speaking stallholder who had worked in Hamburg. Very little English is spoken, though the giggling schoolchildren like to practise 'My name is ...'

We finished our festive preparations by icing the cake (Barry's speciality), using the surplus egg yolks in a leek and cheese flan. On Christmas Eve we opened a tin of cream of reindeer soup from Finland for lunch (don't tell Rudolph), and cooked a dish of white fish and prawns for dinner. For Christmas Day dinner we made a turkey and bacon pie, roast spuds, carrots and cauliflower (who needs sprouts?!) followed by Margaret's Xmas pudding, well doused in plum brandy. White Tokaj wine from Hungary and a large box of chocolates from Bulgaria completed the feast. We also thawed our last wedge of good strong Swedish cheese for the occasion. All that was missing was a big pork pie (don't tell our Muslim neighbours).

Uran Savas, the owner's son, manages the campsite/cafι/souvenir shop/two-room motel. He is also an official Troy Guide (as was his 86-year-old father, who began his career selling postcards at the entrance gate). On Christmas Eve, Uran walked us round the archaeological site on a 90-minute guided tour, bringing the very stones to life. Excavations continue here in the summer months and he knows all those involved and the latest finds and theories - he is a real find himself! Born and brought up in Troy, Uran claims to be the Last of the Trojans.

The previous day, we had taken a meal in the campsite cafι, cooked by Uran's mother. The food was somewhat disappointing, being very simple and overpriced, but it did enable us to make more contact with Uran. He entertained us with a film about the recent excavations, led by the late Prof Manfred Korfmann of the University of Tubingen, and we bought a copy of Korfmann's authoritative Guidebook to Troy (new edition 2010). On the left are two images of the Troy of Hollywood myth! On the right are two images of the realities of today.

Immortalised by the myths of Homer, who wrote the Iliad in the 7th century BC, Troy is the most complex archaeological site we've seen - a large mound with ten layers stretching over 4,000 years. Layer I (the oldest) to Layer VII are Trojan (VI being the time of the attack and siege described by Homer); VIII is Greek (including the base of a temple where Alexander the Great made sacrifice), IX is Roman (complete with Odeon theatre where a complete statue of Hadrian was recently found) and X is Byzantine. Looking out to sea across the reclaimed plains, we could picture the consternation as Agamemnon's fleet approached the beach below Priam's palace – 'feel the rush' as Uran said. We had the place to ourselves, apart from scampering red squirrels, since the coach parties did not stray far beyond the wooden horse and tiny exhibition room! Apparently a new museum is planned. To be built on an area of land opposite our campsite, it will be the largest in Turkey.

No-one else came to stay or camp, but every day tourists on their way to the Ancient Site called at the cafι/souvenir shop by car, minibus or coach, some accompanied by our master-guide, Uran. The majority appeared to be Japanese or Chinese, along with an occasional Canadian, American or Antipodean. Most would leave disappointed, seeing nothing like the set of 'Troy' (with Brad Pitt as Achilles), which was actually shot in Malta and Morocco in 2004, though Uran remembered some of the crew visiting Troy.

The prevailing north-easterlies proved one of Troy's assets, forcing ships bound for the Black Sea to wait in Besik Bay for a rare southerly. The technique of tacking into the wind was not mastered until the first century BC and so, as Homer said, 'the wind brought wealth to Troy'. The north wind still prevails, fuelling a coastal wind farm on our horizon.

Click: Images inside Ancient Troy

Cycling

Map of the Cycling Routes Around Ancient Troy

Click: Images of Cycling around Ancient Troy

The warren of quiet lanes that link the agricultural hamlets in the Troy National Park area were ideal for the bicycle. We cycled to the next settlement, Kumkale (= Sand Castle, though we found no fort), lying 4 miles north, greeted by the astonished villagers, who live simply, with very few private cars, and rarely see strangers.

Just beyond Kumkale we came to a memorial cemetery for 14 local members of a Canakkale regiment, killed defending the entrance to the Dardanelles in 1915. Continuing a mile to Sehitlik at the end of the road, by the coast, we found a pair of gun emplacements rusting away behind barbed wire. They lie by a new fishing harbour, right opposite the tip of the Gallipoli Peninsula, with the tall Turkish monument at Abide clearly visible across the strait.

Another cycle ride took us west to tiny Kalafat, from where we made our way north on unpaved roads and field tracks, across the Scamander River, to meet a cobbled lane that bumped for a mile east to Kumkale. On this ride we saw great white heron and egrets by the water, as well as shepherds with their flocks of sheep, goats, cattle – and one baby camel!

Our longest ride began by cycling to Kalafat, from where we followed paths that swung south and east alongside the irrigation canals. We met the coast at Yeni Koy (= New Village, though it wasn't), which has a tiny beach and a fishing harbour. We managed to buy a drink of hot tea in the empty cafι, as a departing customer summoned the cafι owner (presumably) from the neighbouring shop. Two tiny glasses of cay were poured, costing €0.30 each. The owner returned to the shop to fetch our change, then drove off without a word in a truck loaded with bags of cement, leaving us in charge or to help ourselves to another glass (there was nothing else on offer)! Inscrutable. From here we rode north on an unsurfaced track through the hills that parallel the Aegean, leading to the headland marking the entrance to the Dardanelles. Below the modern shipping control tower we found a large First World War gun emplacement – an extensive complex of crumbling concrete bunkers and overgrown underground tunnels, with just one 120mm canon remaining. Then we turned west towards Kumkale, eventually meeting the cobbled lane that led into the village, from where a familiar road runs south to Tevfikiye and our campsite near the gates of Troy.

It's good to be here, a change from Greece which gets more crowded each winter. We hear there are 10 motorhomes on the site we have used at Finikounda – 5 British, 5 German. We suggested 5-a-side football on Christmas day, in the no-man's-land on the beach. Too many for us. We are better out on the road, with our website and a few special friends when our paths cross.

Troy to Babakale, Biga Peninsula, Turkey     'Otopark' (car park) by Fortress Gate     61 miles     150 ft asl

Click: Images of the Motorhome Tour of the Biga Peninsula

Away at 9 am, we returned 2 miles east to the E87 highway. At the crossroads, where we turned south, women laden with bundles waited for the Dolmus (minibus) – a familiar sight. It was a fine day; the strong wind had dropped and rain held off until late afternoon.

The highway climbed to 630 ft/190 m, then dropped steeply. At 15 miles we turned right into Ezine, a shabby working town, and managed to park in the street at the far end. Walking back, we found a baker's (with wood-fired ovens and the usual delicious bread) and an ATM. The small supermarket sold basic foods.

Rather than continue straight down E87 (as on previous journeys), we decided to make a detour round the Biga Peninsula, a very quiet area of narrow empty roads and some rarely visited ancient sites. Following a sign out of Ezine for Bozcada (a small Turkish off-shore holiday island), we drove west through lightly wooded hills. Every tree and bush was draped in the tatters of multi-coloured plastic bags and we soon passed the source – an open wind-swept municipal garbage dump, being picked over by a pack of stray dogs and (very sadly) an old woman. This could have been India. What a curse plastic bags and bottles have become in the poorer countries, away from NW Europe and its recycling schemes. There seems to be complete indifference to the eyesore of rubbish in the loveliest of landscapes – or the danger it poses when left in the open.

Keeping west through olive groves, we turned left at 25 miles in Geyikli, following a 'Feribot' sign. Two miles later we reached Yukyeri Iskelesi (Yukyeri Harbour), from where ferries make the 35-minute crossing to Bozcada (thrice daily in low season). Here we turned south, past a few holiday apartments and cafes (all closed up), down the west coast of the Biga Peninsula.

Just past the tiny village of Dalyan there is a car park and sign on the right, at 32 miles, on the edge of the widely scattered remains of Alexandria Troas. This coastal city was founded by Antigonus (one of Alexander the Great's generals) in 310 BC. It lasted for over 500 years, finally destroyed by earthquakes. Entry was free of charge and we wandered around enjoying the atmosphere, watched by a taciturn guardian.
 
Driving on, we found more substantial ruins further along on the left, where we parked once more, ate lunch and explored. Here were the enormous baths, restored by Herod Atticus (one of the richest men in Athens) after an earthquake during the 2nd century AD.

Continuing south down the coast, we passed a strip of beach fringed with pines and holiday homes for sale; then rural villages - Kosadere at 44 miles, Babadere at 46 miles and Tuzla at 50 miles, each clustered round a mosque with a pencil-slim minaret. The main crop hereabouts is the cauliflower, with fields of decapitated stalks, the leaves being gleaned by sheep and goats. Tractors towed expertly stacked trailer loads to Tuzla (the Cauliflower Capital), for loading onto trucks.

At 54 miles in the farming town of Gulpinar we turned right, down a short steeply cobbled lane, and parked opposite the busy olive mill by our next goal: the 2nd century BC Ionic Temple of Apollo Smintheus among the scant remains of Ancient Khrysa. Entry was 5 YTL (€2.50) each, though sadly the little museum is only open during the summer months when archaeologists from Ankara University conduct excavations (funded by the Efes Pilsen brewery). After looking at the site, we had to be content with looking at photographs of the unique reliefs with scenes of the Trojan war that are on the temple friezes in the museum.

A mile further on in Gulpinar, we turned right for Babakale (Kale = Castle), along 6 miles of hilly rough and pot-holed road, past an unlikely holiday development area and through olive groves, to the extreme south-west corner of the Biga Peninsula – the end of the road. This tiny village (also known as Lekton) has a fishing harbour, army post and lighthouse, all tucked below an Ottoman fortress. There is one small shop and a restaurant at the Uran Hotel, which only had fish or squid on the menu.

We parked in the square by the entrance to the restored fort, built to combat pirates and guard this strategic corner at the entrance to the Bay of Edremit, opposite the looming island of Lesbos. The massive gates were open, entrance free, and we had a quick look at the splendid view of the coast from the walls before it began to pour down. A very peaceful evening, reading and listening to the rain.

Babakale to Oren, nr Burhaniye, Turkey     Parking Area at Harbour     84 miles

Click: Images of a Quiet Night at Oren Harbour