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We started out by taking a bus to the nearby ferry (above) and crossing the Marmara Sea to Yalova where we continued for another hour by bus to Iznik. Our first stop was the Adil Can Nursan Art studio. Adil Can was our teacher’s teacher, so we were privileged to get to go around the studio and even see the workshop. Here are some examples:

After our tour of the studio we went to the Aya Sofya (St Sophia) church where the Second Council of Nicaea was held in 787 AD (the first also being in Iznik but not in this church. It should be mentioned that this is not the original as that was destroyed by earthquakes).

Our tour then continued on to Köfteci Yusuf, a local eatery (with a few branches elsewhere too) specialising in köfte and kaymaklı ekmek kadayıf. Köfte is Turkish for meatballs or rounds of meat looking like little burgers. It’s a dish taken VERY seriously here, and the köfte at Yusuf’s place was fab!

Kaymaklı Ekmek Kadayıf is also a regional speciality (according to my friends). Kaymak is clotted cream and kadayıf is the word used for a sugar syrup and honey soaked pudding. This kadayıf is ‘ekmek‘ (bread) kadayıf as the pudding has a spongy bread-like texture. It’s DELICIOUS, but tooth-tinglingly sweet!

After stuffing ourselves we had a 25 minute walk in the hot midday sun to the Iznik Foundation where pottery is still being made. It’s apparently almost impossible to tour the place, but our teacher managed to get us in (Queen Elizabeth has also been here according to photographs proudly displayed all around the building!). Unfortunately taking photos inside was forbidden, but even the grounds of the place are inspiring, not least after the grey concrete and noise of Istanbul.

After leaving the foundation we walked back to the town centre on another long walk – I thought it was just mad dogs and Englishmen who went out in the midday sun…! We visited the small but nevertheless impressive Iznik museum (below) with some lovely examples of excavated china work, and one huge ceramic jar with a human skeleton inside – euugh! Apparently giant ceramic pots were an early form of coffin! Shame we couldn’t take photos inside the building.

As you might expect, there are plenty of places to see and buy china in Iznik, and after a MUCH needed stop for tea in a nearby tea garden (below top) we then went to a fine row of teeny boutique shops where local china painters were exhibiting their work (below).

We also went to the Medrese, which was historically a place attached to a mosque where young men could be educated in Islamic theology. Now, however, it is a lovely quiet courtyard surrounded by artisan shops and with swallows nesting in the cloisters. I had a coffee and was shown by the lady in the cafe how to make traditional Turkish coffee (actually, I already know, but it was nice to make friends ). A real personal highlight was then going to a chinaware shop which instead of ready-made goods sold plain white ‘biscuits’, ie. unfired pottery goods for you to design and paint yourself. I bought some plates and jewellery bases in the hope that I can paint some of my own designs over the summer… we’ll see… (click here to see some of my previous work if you’re curious!)

Finally we took the bus to the edge of Iznik lake and had tea and ice cream overlooking the view. The lake is stunning and there were children swimming and playing as well as rowing boats gliding across the surface in the far distance. Beautiful!

Finally it was time to head back home and we piled back on the coach and settled down for the two hours back to Istanbul. As the ferry was leaving the port a lone stork slowly flapped its way across the sky above us. A real pleasure of a day with many happy memories

To see more photos click here.

Through Ferizli and Adapazarı we then joined the main motorway back into İstanbul and kept going, via issues with the toll road system (which had recently changed and we didn’t know), a pushy driver who was indicating for us to pull over and argue with him after he must have misconstrued something in our driving, and a tricky exit to the coast road which we needed to our house. However, these issues safely navigated, we were finally home and, after unpacking, were glad to hand the car back to the hire guys.

What an adventure!

The kitchen area

Sedir – Turkish traditional cushion seating that also doubles as a daybed

Dönme dolap – lit. ‘turning cupboard’, used so that servants could serve food without being seen. The cupboard opens in two rooms and revolves so food can be put into it by the servants in their room, and then taken out of the other side in the dining room!

The mens’ quarters

The hilariously ingenious banyo dolabı or ‘bath cupboard’. As shown by lifesize ‘Ken’, it contained an area with drainage that could be used as a washing area (like a bath) and then closed off (with the hatch you can see) to form a shelf-like area for bedding (from the sedir) to be kept during the day. Now there’s a storage and space solution for IKEA to think about…

Family dining area (when there weren’t guests and they ate together).

The Museum building

We had saffron tea, which has a honey-like flavour, in the museum tea garden (Safranbolu getting its name from it’s trading in this precious spice), and then went off to get a few local souvenirs. We visited famous sweet shop Safrantat and enjoyed a good many tasters before buying helva and some of the famous saffron flavoured Turkish delight from the friendly shop assistant. We also bought two tablecloths from a friendly man called Mr Şenol (lit. Mr ‘Be Merry’) that seemed to be traditional but who knows…? They’ll be good for the balcony table!

We left Safranbolu via some superb caves just to the north west of the town. The friendly ticket seller gave us a huge LED torch so we could see more than just the lantern lit route, and we entered the cave series that is 6km long(!), although only 400m are open to the public. Having said this, the walkway through the caves seemed to go on forever, past formations resembling jellyfish, a coral reef, a giant church organ and the insides of a giant monster! Here’s an example.

Superb! We emerged cold nosed before giving our torch to an apprehensive looking woman and her husband about to enter the caves, and then heading off to Bartın.

Not MORE roadworks!

Unbelievably, this road was also being resurfaces, and we bounced and bobbled along the stripped surface for several miles before hitting a better surface again. The countryside here seemed to look even more homely and English than anything else we had seen before, and was a soother of the soul after so much travel. Amasra was past Bartın and on the coast, so we had to climb over yet another hill before descending into the cove where the town sits. The road down from the hill gives a great view of Amasra (but unfortunately we didn’t get a shot of it due to the masses of signs and hotel adverts along the road!)

The town looked lovely, but as we got into the centre it seemed tremendously crowded. We realised that this was not only a tourist destination for Turks, but that there was also something going on this weekend. On our second circle around the centre, we were stopped by police as a brass band parade started off through the streets! Eventually we parked a little out of town and walked back in to find our guest house; the cheapest we could find, but clean and very well located. Actually, amazingly our room looked over an excavation site. Apparently a local construction firm had wanted to build something on the land but during their digging they had found some old graves which professionals want to fully excavate and then make into a museum. Not good for the construction company, but great for us and even better for the guest house owners!

We bought ice cream from the guest house (which also has its own cake shop) and meandered down to the sea front and pier. Before we had walked far we found ourself on a boat tour of the headland that was due to set off any minute! (It had seemed a good thing to go for so we jumped on!) The trip was great fun, although Ruth had to practise some deep breathing exercises to cancel the motion sickness coming from waves that were larger than anticipated!

It seemed that we had picked the party boat, as the whole time heavy beats and dance music blared out of the speakers at a volume only rivalled by Loughborough fair! Having said this, around the town we had seen posters of a young Turkish pop/rock star in all of the shop windows, and on the boat trip we saw a statue of this man on the shore too. Before getting off the boat, we noticed a large poster advertising the Barış Akarsu memorial concerts this weekend, and we hazarded a guess that this young man must have been something of a local hero being celebrated the very days we were there.

We later looked online and found that, indeed, he had been a promising young star from Amasra who had also campaigned for various charities. But he had tragically died after complications following a serious car crash on the way to his birthday party with friends, after singing at a charity concert. A really horrid tale, but one that a whole town comes together to commemorate each year.

Crying Trees and Uncle Mehmet

After the boat trip Mark went to get the car and Ruth annoyed a few drivers by standing and holding the only free space (luckily just coming available at the right time) in the coastal road car park. We took our stuff to the guest house and then trekked up to the castle. To get there we walked via the first fortified part of the headland and two old churches, before walking across an ancient Roman bridge and through a heavy set archway to the second, island like part of the headland at the tip of the town. At the top of this piece of land was the Ağlayan ağacı (Crying Tree) tea garden, and we passed through this and hiked right to the top of the hill, next to the tiny lighthouse, for a brilliant view of ‘Rabbit Island’ and Amasra.

We then walked back down to Mehmet Amcanın Yeri (Uncle Mehmet’s Place) for dinner. This was obviously an up market place (we felt quite underdressed) and they served us a truly posh salad, before buttered prawns and small battered fish (mezgit and barbunya). Yum! We were really stuffed and weren’t going to eat pudding, but the waiter brought us a yoghurt and honey dessert, topped with little nut pieces which we seemed to polish off without too much trouble!

Feeling stuffed we wandered home before heading out to one of the memorial concerts. The security was tight and everyone had to pass through a police check to enter the concert zone. But it was a free event, so it was worth the trouble. That night it was a singer called Ali Altay, and it was good fun to be a part of the crowd, even though we didn’t know any of the songs! He sang one called ‘Islak Islak’ (lit. ‘Wet Wet’ – but probably with greater metaphorical significance..) that we believe was Barış Akarsu’s first single, and then got us all shouting ‘çok çok’ and ‘yok yok’ (equivalent to ‘a lot, a lot’ and ‘not, not’ in English) at the appropriate moments in the chorus of the next song. In fact, this evening led to one of the most hilarious moments of the holiday…

All evening Ali Altay had been shouting “Are you ready?” Of course, everyone yells back, “EVET!” (‘YES!’) However, once, and only once, he changed this to have more political significance. In the next town, the government want to build a big power station, and the Amasya population is campaigning against it being built. So, Ali, without warning, and in exactly the same tone as before shouted, “Do you want the power station in the next town?” And, suffice to say that Mark was the only person to shout “EVET!”

After a few songs we came back and watched some Ghana and Uruguay before bed.

Then we headed off, but not before Ruth accidentally walked in on someone using the public toilets – oops. Not easy to explain mistakes when you’re a foreigner, but I think I looked apologetic enough when the woman challenged me later… Drove out of Osmancık via a surprise castle we didn’t know was there until we were under it (you might be able to spot another stork nest in the photo too!).

We then followed to road to Karabük and on to Safranbolu, famed within Turkey as having the best example of a surviving Ottoman village in Turkey. We had to drive over an immense hill before we could snake down into the valley where çarşı the oldest part of Safranbolu is located. The first views were stunning…

…but as we drove round the cobbled streets we found our small Lonely Planet map to be insufficient for driving, and were soon stuck and lost. Horrid! We decided to get out and walk to our Pansiyon, Turgut Reis Konağı a 200 yr old house which had been converted to a guest house quite recently. It was literally 3 minutes from where we parked, but the only through road was being used as a covered market. It turned out that this was only opened to cars after 9pm. Shame we didn’t know that before!

Oh, we get by with a little help from our friends

At the house, the owner found two friends who drove off with Mark to find our car. 15 minutes and a round trip later, our car was in the car park and we were in our little room. Very comfortable, even though it didn’t have any windows as it was ground floor – the rest of the rooms were booked though, so we were lucky to get a bed for the night. We went for a walk around the town and fell for its antique charm. In fact, when we peeked into the Cinci Hanı (large old mansion) courtyard and saw it all set up for a wedding, it reminded us of being back for balls and events in Cambridge.

The old hamam (Turkish bath) building (above, 2nd picture from the bottom) was also impressive, but the whole place worked together so well that just wondering around was a delight. We had a bit of trouble finding a place to eat but eventually settled on Çevikköpru-2, a restaurant with 3 branches in the town and a varied menu. We sat on a little balcony overlooking the town centre and enjoyed a gorgeous surprise appetiser of hot fresh bread, local butter and honey (with honeycomb in it) to eat too. So simple yet such a treat! Then our salad and mains came: Ruth had kıremıtte alabalık for the second time this holiday, while Mark had kiremitte köfte, the meatball version of this oven baked dish. We both opted for the delicious melted cheese option on top too, which was a bit of an indulgence.

We wandered ‘home’ via a lively museum courtyard with young people enjoying the evening over tea. But we only came to check opening times for tomorrow and then headed off to our comfy beds for a good sleep.

Looking back over Yusufeli

We had previously wanted to take a more inland route following the roads around the back of the mountains via Gümüşhane and Tokat, however, we were sick of poor roads, dry landscapes and getting lost(!), so we decided to partly retrace our steps instead.

The land was hot and parched again through here, and along one road there had been a fresh landslide just before we reached it. Small rocks were still tumbling down across the road as we cautiously drove past. Then up, up, up back over the hills and out of the valley to Artvin, before heading back through tunnels, over viaducts and over the mountain road to the verdant, green, coastal hills we had come to love on our journey here.

Cruisin’ on the Highway

After the bad driving conditions of the last few days, the coastal road felt like luxury. We cruised along to Rize and back to Bekiroğlu’s for lunch (beans and beyti again) before ploughing onwards to familiar beats put loud on our MP3 player. Eventually, after a whole day of driving, we were back at Dede Evi in Perşembe, and delighted to find the room this time even better than the first: wood floor, fashionable paint, and wooden furniture. Rested for an hour watching How to Build a Nuclear Submarine and the headed back over to Ceren for spag bol (again!) and chicken güveç, a kind of baked chicken and vegetable dish in a round ceramic pot. We ate while a man played the saz and sang some traditional Turkish songs, before going back home and crashing out.

Views from the pansiyon

Back to room for reading, diary writing, washing (hurrah, we could use their machine!) and general chilling out before venturing a few metres to the old church (Barhal kilisesi – below) situated right next to the pansiyon. There was an old lady there trying to collect some ‘bread money’, as she called it, by knitting village style (thick and colourful) socks and selling them there.

Back to the room for a leisurely snack/lunch on the balcony outside our room, before drifting back to sleep to the sounds of wind in the trees and with the heat of the day making the shady room a perfect temperature for napping… We later walked into the village, joined by Peter halfway, and then left Peter to find some bits and bobs as we strolled off, enjoying the serene little place.

(In the shadow of the mountain above)

We then meandered back to the guest house, still at a leisurely pace. Watched most of the Time Traveller’s Wife before being called for dinner (the guy knocked on our room door as a woman in the film was loudly giving birth – not sure what he must have thought..!). A lovely dinner: vegetable soup with salad and bread, followed by pasta in a tomato sauce, runner beans and potatoes also in sauce, stuffed peppers and fried chicken pieces. Delicious! (Everything was served in the middle buffet style). Then we had freshly picked mountain cherries (rhubarb and custard colour), gathered by Mr Karahan himself. We ate with Peter so had some conversation, although there were lots of mosquitoes around as we were outside on the open terrace. A cat also came to keep us company before we disbanded and watched the rest of the film and the first new Top Gear. A great chilled out day

Then back through Oltu and out on what we thought was the right road but soon turned out to be wrong. Turned back and drove around Oltu, eventually asking where the road to Narman was. Eventually off on the road and winding through some more spectacular scenery. Turned left into Marman and drove along through poplar lined villages. Really stunning scenery but in a more ‘homely’, cultivated and welcoming way (not arid, bare and hostile like before).

The wayside flowers were purple, pink and yellow with red poppies in the mix too. Beautiful. Behind them streams and poplars marked the edges of fields that stretched to the mountains behind. Although the road was mostly flat, we eventually came to another mountain pass, and our hearts sank as we began the familiar climb up and up. We tried to keep the car at a steady pace, and thankfully made it to the top where an incredible view awaited. (Kireçli Geçidi = Chalky Pass, Rakim = Height)

After a joyous sail down the other side of the pass we picked up another passenger and dropped him in Tortum before bearing back towards Uzundere. On the way we found the turning off to Bağbaşı where the old Meryemana Manastırı (Mother Mary Monastery) or Taş Cami (Stone Mosque), as it is now called, can be found. We drove along the road through some gorgeous villages until we reached Bağbaşı, and drove past lovely houses, shady orchards and playing children on the way to the church itself.

We entered the monastery on foot through a crumbling, plant covered stone archway, and wandered around the outside of the church. As it is now used as a mosque, we waited for the Hoca religious leader to come for prayers so that we could look inside, but unfortunately he didn’t come that time. We did see two lovely woodpeckers playing and drumming in the trees while we were waiting though. A mother, daughter and grandmother came by while we were there, and we found that the grandmother has previously lived in this area, but now the family lived in Istanbul. What a massive relocation!

We wandered through the village to try to find the remains of a castle the info board had mentioned, but after no luck and truly withering heat we drove back to the main road. Then we travelled on to Öşvank. The scenery (above) taking us along the valley and to the village was stunning in itself, with villages leading donkeys, little boys walking arm in arm, and mountains framing every side. But the church itself was MAGNIFICENT. Now, of course, it was falling to pieces, with no Christians to keep it in order, and only pigeons and puppies using it as a home. But this once central place of religious learning, famed for its craftsmanship in calligraphy, was still captivating and it was emotional to walk within its walls and cloisters.

The heat of the day was now unbearable and we were also hungry, so we drove on to Tortum Lake (below) to find a fish restaurant recommended by our book. The lake was a startlingly grey and green, steep sided place, and although we found the restaurant on a little jetty sticking into the water, it was closed, and locals were using the land as a place to swim from and have their own barbeques. We drove on via various villages that had nothing on offer foodwise. We reached the Tortum şelalesi (waterfall – below) and hoped to find an eatery there, but although the waterfall was lovely, the only eatery was overpriced and had a fee for using the car park… We decided to drive on to Yusufeli as by now we needed food and petrol.

After finding a petrol station, we then picked up another passenger who came with us to Yusufeli. Yusufeli is a strange isolated little town which has been condemned to be flooded when a new dam project is finished. We parked up and wandered through a few industrial looking places before crossing a rope bridge across the surging river (Yusufeli is one of the best rafting spots in Turkey) and sitting on a wall for a picnic. Bread and jam again, as we hadn’t found anything else, but it was good to eat nevertheless. We sauntered back to the car in headachingly hot sun, and bought two ice lollies which started melting before we’d even unwrapped them!

Along the road to Yusufeli

We then began the 34km to our pansiyon for the night in Barhal. Oh my goodness! Little did we know what the road would have in store! 34km of bending and winding on mountain edges and blind corners above a fast flowing river! Some was even as bad as the road from the previous day, which was all the more terrible as we were both tired, frustrated and worried about the car. The scenery, as ever, was wonderful, even if Ruth didn’t dare to look at times because of the drop down into the valley. Eventually the river had risen to meet us and we were again on flatter land, although still at a good altitude. Barhal proved to be a tiny village at the foot of steep mountains, and after getting lost once (due to driving too far along the village road) we eventually found Karahan Pansiyon high on the side of a steep-sided leafy hill. We hiked up a pretty vertical-feeling track lead us from the parking spot to the house, and there we were welcomed by the owner’s son, who gave us juice on the house balcony terrace, where we sat with Peter, an Englishman and the only other guest. (We had actually honked the horn at him on the road earlier!)

The winding journey to Barhal

With Peter we were then showed to our simple yet stylish chalet rooms, and soon were enjoying a rest before we were treated to a lovely home cooked evening meal in the conservatory style room: soup, battered trout with rice, salad, homemade chips, deepfried aubergine, yoghurt, with fresh watermelon for pudding! Gorgeous. Halfway through the meal the owner’s son came and asked if everything were ok, and confessed that he cooked this evening, whereas it was usually his father. We (including Peter who ate with us) assured him that the meal was delicious so he didn’t need to worry! Then we asked if they have bears near the house and he told us that they have every type of bear except polar bear! Maybe we should lock our door well tonight…

Watched some F1 action on the laptop before bed.

Back to room, packed, prayed for a good day and bought water before heading off towards Ardanuç with the damp washing laid out on the parcel shelf! Going east from Artvin, the road was far more windy and steep, as though the construction guys had given up on tunnels and decided to go around and over the mountains instead. We were amazed at the speed that some of the Turkish drivers used on this road, although after being overtaken by one van, we later passed it pulled up on the verge with one passenger outside, bent over after being ill… Oh dear. The high roads also gave us a full view of the new dam project this side of Artvin, and a sudden understanding of what a ‘scarred landscape’ really looks like. Everywhere lines in the hillsides and electric wires zigged zagged infront of us, and it actually felt quite devastatingly shocking after passing through so much untouched countryside before.

As we passed through the mountains and further from the verdant, rainy coast, the landscape changed to be more arid and scrubby. Again, this came as a surprise after the tree-covered slopes before. Entering into a dusty, dry gorge, we soon came across Ardanuç Ferhatlı kalesı (Ferhatlı castle) which was mounted on a rocky outcrop overlooking the steep sided valley.

As we stepped out to take pictures, the heat and the sound of the crickets hit us with force, and although the olive lined valley floor provided a quite intriguing contrast to the bare rock beneath the castle, we were glad to get back to the air-conditioned car! It seemed as though we had just slipped through a door into a totally different country. At the other end of the gorge was Ardanuç castle, which, although less impressive in itself, showed off an incredible location on top of an unnaturally flat plateau of rock.

We then continued along what we thought was the main road marked clearly on our new map. However, the road just seemed to get worse and worse… What was more, this road was following the river on the valley floor, whereas our desired road seemed to be much higher and staying above the valley. The gorge was amazing, but the road had no surface and was severely pot-holed. Halfway along we found a building site, where work was going on to take rock from the cliff, presumably to widen the track. But still no good road. We then emerged from the gorge into a new valley where the track was equally small, but the surrounding hills were far more alpine in look. After another few km we admitted that the roads we were seeing differed so much from the map in hand that we really were lost. We stopped to ask directions from 4 ladies (actually the only 4 people we had seen wandering along the track) who confirmed that we were a way from our intended route and directed us up a track that apparently took us to a village where we could (according to the map) meet the main road at a later point. So, we headed off, only to realise that the track was just as bumpy and pot-holed, yet now also steep as it was starting to climb the valley side. There were also a few vehicles coming down the track which meant progress was slow and cautious.

After a while we had climbed along and up far enough to have a view over the whole wide spreading valley. It was absolutely stunning and very Heidi-esque. By now though we were feeling rather desperate to find a good road. Surely it was only a matter of time before the car decided to give up on such poor, bumpy and steep roads? We drove on into another village where Mark jumped out and asked directions from some villagers chatting and drinking tea by the village mosque. They pointed onwards to a village of wooden chalets that we hoped would be Geçitli, the village where we could meet the main road. Upon arrival there, with no sign of any main road (or any road at all, for that matter), Mark jumped out again and spoke with two elderly men. At this point Ruth suddenly became aware that the flies flying into the car through Mark’s open door were HUGE; about the length of the top part of your thumb. Euuugh! Disgusting.

The men directed us up a road that actually seemed better paved than we had hoped, but, after driving for a minute or so, we saw that the road was continuing onwards to the valley side, with no mountain pass to drive through, just up, up, up on a steep winding curve. At this point we felt quite trapped. We couldn’t go back along the awful track, but the only way onwards was to scale the mountain in front of us. We had to go on, so pushed the poor car into a first gear crawl up the hill. What a hill! We wound around and up for a good few km without any sign of it stopping. And then, as we reached a long straight uphill stretch with views across the whole valley floor, the car made some distressed squealing noises, and we knew it had had enough.

Part of the view from where we broke down… not bad!

We halted halfway up the straight and turned the car off. Quite honestly, we really didn’t know what we were going to do. The village below had nowhere official to stay, we had no signal on our mobile phone and there was no shade on the road we were on because we were so high that only grass was able to grow. Even if we had managed to contact the car people in Istanbul, it was unlikely any breakdown cover (if they had any) would be able to find us here. Our only hope was that the car just needed a rest…! Mark opened the bonnet and immediately we could hear that the water in the car was boiling (which it should apparently never do). Of course, we were now so high up (around 2500m) that we could see areas of snow on the hills across the valley, so with high altitude and scorching weather, the water could boil much quicker than normal. We decided to pray and then wait an hour to see if we could continue. Wrapping his hand with an old T-shirt for protection, Mark managed to take off the water lid, much against Ruth’s will (everyone knows that’s very dangerous!), but in the best interest of cooling the car down. We then thought about ourselves. With no shade and thin air, we knew we needed shelter, water and sun protection. We got our hats and sunglasses, doused ourselves in sun cream and drank from our water reserves in the car.

We were rather stuck for shelter though, and the massive black flies seemed everywhere, intrigued by the white car. We knew sitting in the car was dangerous as passing traffic could hit it (being as we didn’t have time to pull right over to the side). However, in the end we decided it was our only option, so we took our mosquito net and draped it over two open doors on the right and keeping the left doors (road side) closed, we climbed in to wait. We had some cherries with us, so snacked on those. After a while a passing lorry and stopped, asking what was wrong. They poured some cooler water into the water tank (great!), and informed us that the flies could bite (not great!)…

One hour and lots of prayer later we tried the engine again – hurrah! It started! However, the guys had told us there was still 5km to go to the top… We slowly crawled along the track and eventually over the brow of the hill, expecting to see the main road awaiting us. However, all we could see was the dirt track winding off for miles, and road builders’ settlements along the roadsides. We realised that we were driving along a road that hadn’t been built yet! Eventually after another hour of crawling into and out of potholes, beside sheer drops to the valley below, and passing only the occasion JCB and one ruined castle, we reached the floor of the next valley, and found that the road, although still potholed, had at least had tarmac on it at one stage!

This place, and the next few hours of views, can only be explained as alpine plain. The valley floors stretched for miles on either side of the road, but as we were still very high up, no trees were growing here, so the grassland was full of wildflowers (above) whose scent floated on the breeze. Here and there we saw herds of cattle, grazing with their cowherd looking on, and elsewhere geese and ducks enjoyed an occasional puddle. It seemed that the local villages had this whole expanse of nature to themselves.

Eventually, far out of our schedule and unable to get to the hotel we had booked into for that night, we pulled into Göle. We hoped to find a hotel here, and soon saw a sign for Hotel Damla (Waterdrop Hotel). Unfortunately, it turned out to be rather ironically named, as their whole water system was broken and the manager had no idea when the repairman would come…

We continued along the empty road. Unfortunately our map marked towns of vastly varying populations with the same size ‘blob’, so we took a gamble on one that we hoped would be large enough to have a hotel. Some steep roads and a rather worryingly hot car later and we were in Şenkaya, but, to our dismay, our gamble hadn’t paid off and it was too small for a hotel.

Feeling rather like Mary and Joseph (even a stable would do!), we had no choice but to carry on for another hour or two until we could find another place that might be large enough. Along the way we passed Penek Church (one of the sights we had planned to see today before everything went wrong – above), so we took a photo from the road (sad not to be able to stop) and continued. The rock here changed colour again and we saw red outcrops of bare rock emerging from the ground. One massive example looked like Ayers Rock! Magnificent.

A man on the roadside signalled for a lift, so we picked him up and continued to Oltu, which – hurrah – was a good sized place and had at least 3 hotels. Our passenger had said he would find one for us (we had said we wanted to find a hotel) and so he soon found the manager for one place on the main town road. The room was decent and had a very basic shower room. The toilet was a squatty one, shared with other guests, but the manager said we would have this floor (there were 4 rooms to a floor) to ourselves this evening anyway, so we didn’t need to worry. We went out for a walk and found a sparse but welcome park along the riverside. It was also at the foot of an impressive citadel that sits right in the middle of Oltu. Opposite the citadel was an intriguing statue of a hand holding a string of Islamic prayer beads, and we later found that Oltu taşı (Oltu stone) is famously used for making these beads.

The citadel

The view from our hotel

Then we found a little lokanta and ate well before watching Old Dogs in our hotel room. This would ordinarily have been a terrible film, but it was quite a relief to watch light-hearted slapstick after a rather long, tense day. Mark went to bed and Ruth went to brush teeth in the corridor sink. Weirdly the hotel receptionist (a guy) chose this moment (10.30pm) to come and ask for our passports and payment! After our long day we both enjoyed a good night’s sleep.

We began the journey up the road we had previous begun to walk up. It began well, but before long turned into a horrendously bumpy track with sheer drops to our left, but incredible views along the valley, the low lying clouds and waterfalls tumbling down the mountainsides. We even saw a couple of (glacial?) ice masses on the mountainsides as we neared the top.

We were VERY thankful we didn’t attempt the journey in our own car and were glad to be in the hands of an experienced driver, perfectly at ease with wheel-sqealingly thrashing his minibus up the hazardously steep potholed track, accompanied by the wailing yet funky music of local musician Sait Uçar. He was also acting, in some capacity, as the local postman. At the bottom of the hill one villager gave him a letter for someone living up the hill, and later, as we passed through another village, the letter was passed to some children who ran off to give it to the recipient!

Well I never did!

During the drive, an unimaginable coincidence occurred. We began to chat with an English-speaking Turkish girl in the bus with us. It turned out she had lived in London for a while, and, when we asked where, one place had been West Drayton!! Our own old home! Incredible – Going up a mountain in the Kaçkars and we find a girl who’s lived in ‘The Drey’!

On Top of the World

At the top was Yukarı Kavron, another yayla settlement but far more barren in appearance and right at the foot of the mountains themselves. An absolutely awesome place to see and worth the bumpy ride up.

We tried to get a better view of the highest peaks by following a wide stream up a nearby hill. However, after getting stuck on scree and realising that there was no real place to cross the stream higher up, we returned just in time to catch the minibus that had begun the return journey earlier than anticipated. We picked up a villager on the way down and there were some chuckles amongst the other passengers as she bellowed down her mobile phone to her friend Ayşe, not seeming to realise that distance wasn’t an issue on the phone.

Goodbye to Ayder

Our Pansiyon is shown on the hill here. In the foreground is one of the village woman carrying her crops home (“and anon, methought, The wood began to move“!)

Back in Ayder we waved goodbye to the pansiyon owner (who was hanging out of a window and waving enthusiastically down the hill to us in a lovely grandmotherly fashion) and set off to Konaklar. This was not far from Ayder and was supposedly home to some old Ottoman houses. However, apart from seeing one of our Danish friends again, there wasn’t much to be found there without climbing up the steep hillsides which we hadn’t planned to do. So we turned round and headed back to the coast. We wanted to try and find Çiftköpru and another castle on our journey but it turned out that the road was closed and so we got back onto the main track and headed towards Artvin.

At Arhavi we stopped for a lovely lentil soup with soft, delicious bread. We noticed here that the people were fairer and even ginger looking, compared to people further west, and we realised that we were now only around 20 miles from the Georgian border. After food we continued east before turning inland towards Artvin via Borçka. After climbing over another vertiginous mountain pass with incredible views across the hills leading down to the sea, we came down the other side via a beautiful old stone bridge (above) and into the beginning of Turkey’s dam building region. Dams are everywhere in Turkey, but this was the first time for us to see one: certainly, it was colossal, and led us to quite eerie thoughts of the villages and centuries of history that are now submerged under the water.

After a series of tunnels and viaducts we arrived at the bridge leading into Artvin, which we crossed before zigzagging up the worryingly steep road leading to the town centre. We stopped outside our hotel, but could only enter it through a very seedy shopping passage, and up some cranky old lifts. Ruth went in and asked about the car park, discovering in the process that the back entrance by the car park was actually the ‘main’ one (and the one that didn’t leave you feeling as though you would be mugged on the way in). We brought the car round here and then were showed to our room.

It must have been renovation time and the room smelt strongly of bleach, cleaning women were busy smoking in the corridors, and the shower sealant had been recently re-done, but never cleaned after the work (so all of the peeled old sealant, dust, mank and even old feathers made a disgusting mess in the bath – eugh). After complaining to the management, we were eventually given another room that was better, although still carrying a general grime that had come from years of use with no re-decoration. Pretty good view though, as we were on the top floor.

We had a wander around the town that didn’t seem to have much to win our hearts except for a friendly pastane where we stopped for ice cream, baklava and tea. We seemed to really stand out here as tourists, so felt a little uncomfortable. Back to the hotel to do some clothes washing in a bucket. Mark strung washing lines around the bathroom and we hung the dripping clothes up to dry. Watched a bit of football and batted around ideas for the next days before heading out in torrential rain to the pristine Bekiroğlu’s (probably not related to the Rize version) for a lovely meal of beyti sarma, yoğurtlu iskender (definitely favourites of ours) and a simple çoban salatası (shepherd’s salad – finely chopped lettuce, tomato and cucumber). Back to hotel, more football, arranging washing, and sorting some of our photos. Shattered!