Turkey

I had to return to Changchun to check on Perfect English, the school that Janet and I founded five years ago and found that the new management team I installed last July is really doing well. It was great to see some of my friends and colleagues and while the visit was good, I was ready to return to Istanbul, meet Janet (who had flown to California to see the kids) and get on with the ride on our beautiful new bike.

There is a problem with Turkey—there are just too many really cool places to go and because winter is just about here, we have to head to warmer climates. The other problem we faced is that the German plates on the bike and the international insurance I got in Germany only last for 30 days and time is up on December 19^th. I was lucky enough to get a two week insurance policy on the bike that starts on the 20^th so we have a little more time.

I was also able to transfer the Chinese registration from Max to the new bike and the insurance company found no problem with that. I will be able to get ‘Green Card’ international insurance in Greece that is good that should last until we get to the States sometime next spring. So all is well with the world.

We left Istanbul after a very short delay due to a Turkey Trot problem and even made it over the bridge that connects Europe with Asia with almost no traffic. The roads are terrific, the bike is really running well, and other than it being much colder than we had wanted it was almost perfect. Any new bike takes some time to get used to. The same is true of new gear; especially something like a full face helmet. During the 30 or more years that Janet and I have been riding, we have always had open face helmets so the thought of being trapped inside a fiberglass fishbowl was not the most appealing thing either of us could imagine.

I was lucky. I had the chance to get used to it when I rode from Germany to Istanbul. At first it was confining but as the temperature dropped I was thankful that I had it. Airflow inside the helmet is controlled by external vents as well as by opening the clear visor a bit—this also prevents fogging when the temperature is low and the humidity is high. I also had a chance to get used to the BMW seat (which is a far cry from the Bar seats we had on Max).

As we left Istanbul I could feel Janet fidgeting which is a clear sign that she is uncomfortable or that something is bothering her. I also know that I need to pull over and either fix the problem or somehow convince her to just tough it out for a while. Well, it was the seat, she seems to slide forward a bit and that is making her uncomfortable. "Don’t worry, the seat will feel better over time", I told her. Then she had a problem with the feeling of confinement with her new full face helmet and the technique of getting it on and off.

My helmet was a tad big so I wear a thin cap and when it’s cold, I also pull up a thin sleeve I wear, as a protective collar, on the back of my head so my helmet fit is sung. Janet did the same thing but this caused the helmet to fit too tight resulting in her right ear rubbing against her glasses. We finally figured out that if she removed the sleeve the fit was better and there is no ear irritation. It’s funny how the small and seemingly inconsequential things can become the source of major issues.

Because of the delay in leaving Istanbul we were only able to make Bursa on the first day. I could have been my usual self and tried to push on to Chanakkale but I remembered that there is no rush! Beating up Janet or me by pushing too hard or too long or too often is only defeating the purpose of the trip. The next day was the same—cold, foggy and a bit rainy but altogether it was fine.

Troia

  Figure 1 - Walls of Troy

Chanakkale sits at the northwest corner or Turkey, directly across the Dardanelles from the Gallipoli Peninsula. The importance of this city to Janet and me was that it provided a staging point for us to reach the city of Ancient Troy, just 27 km away

No one had to discover the Pyramids of Egypt. They have remained visible on the banks of the Nile at Giza since their construction. But imagine a place that was once considered a myth becoming reality due to one man’s love for Homeric legend and a desire to prove its historical accuracy by archaeological excavation. This is ancient Troy

I became fascinated with Troy after watching a BBC documentary last year. It told about how the German archaeologist Heinrich Schliemann began excavations in the 1870s that unearthed the actual stone walls and battlements of an ancient city he claimed was Troy on the hills just south of what is now Chanakkale.

Building at Troy started in 3,000 BC and continued until about 500 AD. The site actually contains the remains of seven successive Troy’s, each one built upon the last. However it is Troy VII A that is the generally accepted Troy of Homer which was destroyed by fire just about the time of the traditional period of the Trojan War. Further, it is because of Schliemann’s discovery that contemporary scholars believe that Homer's account of the Trojan War has some basis in fact.

I, like everyone else who visits ancient sites, began to wonder about the people who must have lived here, what they did, and the rigors of survival. We know from Homer a bit about Troy but there is always more. I also feel, when I walk ancient grounds, sadly lacking in my knowledge of these places. I wonder how much more I could appreciate if only I had read more, remembered more or even prepared more. But at least I am walking these grounds and can lay my hands on stone hewn for mighty temples or mud brick made to enclose trash heaps, both vitally important for the city.

 

But no, Anne was more important. My father, Fred and my uncle Bill were both masons and even I got a chance to work as a mason while going to college. Our work was not in the fresh air building walls, homes or decorative items but rather in the dark and hot confines of boilers that heat industrial water for steam and power.

Figure 3 - From the temple of St. Helen

Often we had to work with large blocks of refractory material and cut and shape these pieces to fit the burners, arches and other special applications for which they were designed. This work took skill, time and patients but if I made a mistake, there was always extra material that I could use to make another. This may not have been the case with the ancients.

Maybe it is because of the skill passed on through generations of Murray’s that I have such a deep appreciation of the carving at these sites. I know the tools, I understand many of the techniques but I still stand in awe of the accomplishments of the artists who carved granite and marble, limestone and other materials with such grace and detail.

I look at the Bas-Relief above from the temple of St Helen and cannot imagine the time it took to carve such a splendid piece. But then there are thousands of such examples of this work lying wherever you look. There are columns, capitals and friezes. There must also be miles and miles of small detail carved into long blocks of stone.

Bergama sits slightly inland from the coast and we could feel the temperature drop as we headed for the town. I had seen a pamphlet in Istanbul and had copied the names of several sites that sounded interesting but I couldn’t remember what was so interesting about this location. Never mind, I thought, we would discover it when we arrived.

We found a hotel on the main street that would let us park the bike on their patio, the room had a double bed (a real treat since we had been sleeping in twin beds almost every night) and we were near almost everything in town.

The attraction was the ancient fortress of Pergamum, the capital of the kingdom of Pergamum and the stronghold for the Macedonian general Lysimachus. The city once supported more than 150,000 people even served as the artistic and literary capital of Asia Minor. I was surprised that the library of Pergamum was the only library to rival that of Alexandria with more than 160,000 scrolls! Finally, Pergamum was bequeathed to the Romans. Under Roman control, Pergamum remained one of the chief cities of Asia Minor, even serving as the capital of the province of Asia. The ruins of the ancient city surround the modern town of Bergama. Noted for their splendor, they include a Roman theater, an amphitheater, and a circus.

 

 The city sits atop one of the highest hills in the area which afforded it the protection it needed to serve the many functions it had. The ride through the town changed quickly from a relatively modern area that quickly turned into an older section with small narrow roads, small narrow shops that were filled with items for local consumption rather than items for tourists that I am sure will begin to appear as the good weather returns.

Figure 4 - Entrance viewed from the parking lot

Then we started to climb the narrow road that leads to the entrance of Pergamum. The size of this ancient city is hidden from view by the walls and even though you can see some of the structures from the city below, it isn’t until you pass into the city itself that the massiveness begins to make itself apparent.

 

Even the stone blocks are massive. Certainly they are not of any size that would match the Pyramids but then the Pyramids are not located several tens if not hundreds of meters above the valley floor! Where did they come from? How did they get all the building materials to the building site? I am sure these questions are easily asked but in our case, there was no one to ask.

We did meet some members of the Turkish Air Force who were on guard duty but they were not guides who could answer stupid tourist questions.

Names of long ago forgotten Roman emperors, gods, places slowly came back to me as though I were remembering through a haze—Trajan, Zeus, Athena, Attalus.

 

But of all the structures in Pergamum, the one that I found most fascinating was the amphitheater. I think the reason is that we first saw small sections and thought, "Oh, that’s nice." But as we moved through the city and more was revealed, its size finally became apparent.

The problem with Turkey is there is simply too much to see. Every time we turned our heads there was something else that held us in awe. The carvings, arches and vaults, sculpture, temples just seemed never ending.

The Turks have a funny little squiggle that they add to the bottom of the s and c that changes the pronunciation from ‘c’ to ‘ch and from ‘s’ to ‘sh’, hence the funny spelling of Selçuk which is a seaport in western Turkey. We had heard that the ruins here were something a bit special and that the Virgin Mary had lived a portion of her life here in Efes (Turkish) or Ephesus (English).

 

We arrived early and decided to head to Ephesus that afternoon. The roads were well marked and finding the parking lot was very easy. A shuttle to the top entrance was arranged for the easy walk down to where we parked the bike. One regret was that the driver went by "Mary’s House" rather quickly and since it was getting a bit late, we decided to press on. We did learn later that the Pope had visited here during his recent visit and said a Mass either in Mary’s House or very near by.

The shops were all but closed during this off season and I was only approached by one vendor who wanted to sell me original coins (illegal of course) that he had found in the ruins. "No thank you, I have no room because we are traveling by motorcycle."

For 10 YTL (Turkish Lira) each we entered the city. If Janet and I had been overwhelmed by Troy and Pergamum, we were absolutely aghast at Ephesus. Once this city supported more than 200,000 people and while it is a ruin, there is so much there. Baths, temples, homes, colonnades, sculpture, and so much more. At every turn we found a history that we could touch, walking on paving stones that had been worn through the centuries by thousands of footsteps that had gone on before. It was almost too much. I had once thought, "I hope I don’t see so many ancient sites that they become mundane or uninteresting." Well that hasn’t happened yet.

                            

And then we came to a beautifully enclosed area that is currently under construction. The building itself is partly sponsored by the Austrian government, partly by commercial (European) sponsors where the reconstruction and restoration of a section of Ephesus that was, we think, the living area for either for the political elite or wealthy.

One of the workers restoring walls that were once covered by thin stone panels as a decoration to cover the brick walls.

Original mosaic tile floor in a residence. We saw a lot of this time consuming are that was still in its original form. Areas like this one were common in the restoration area but we also saw one sidewalk in front of a merchant area that was nearly 50 meters long.

Another area where the reconstruction is taking place but you can also see the glass walkways supported by stainless steel and covered with sturdy plastic panels so the work can continue even in inclement weather. Altogether an impressive enclosure for such a treasure.

In looking at the map of Efes after we had traveled along the major path for some two hours, it was almost disheartening to find that we had missed almost half of the city.

While we have the apparent luxury of time, there is simply not enough time to see it all or to do it all. There isn’t even enough time to any of it with any depth whatsoever. Besides it was cold and both Janet and I wanted to go to the warm so after finding a pension for the night, we headed off to our next location.

Pamukkale

    Figure 6  The Cotton Mou

Pamukkale is known for its geothermal springs that feed pools formed by calcium carbonate deposits left after the water has either evaporated or simply passed over the underlying strata. The wide area fed by the springs is called the Cotton Mountain. You can imagine our thoughts of wallowing in 35⁰C water (about 90⁰F) while the ambient temperature is much colder.

You can also imagine our disappointment at finding that during winter the pools are empty and the pool at the base of the Cotton Mountain is only luke warm at best. We were ready to simply get on the bike and find a better location. But after a cup of strong Turkish tea, we decided to get a good night’s rest and be gone on the morrow.

Directly across from the Kale Hotel where we were staying is the Oz Pipe shop where Beril and his father Mohamet carve pipes from Meerschaum, a very soft stone mined near Anchora.

  

Beril speaks rather good English and after a few minutes he had me hooked on his craft. I used to smoke a pipe and even had a prized Meerschaum. Here was another of the artisans that we wanted to video so I made arrangements to visit him in the morning and shoot him and his dad.

Meerschaum is found in alternating layers deep in the ground. Shafts are sunk to about 100 meters and when a layer is found side shafts are dug to expose the yellowish blocks. When this area is depleted, the main shaft is dug deeper until another layer is found. In its natural state, meerschaum is wet and capable of holding a substantial amount of water. But this water also makes the block soft and easy to carve. But once the meerschaum is dried, it becomes hard and reasonably difficult to break.

The artistry of meerschaum pipes is in the hands of the carver. He must be able to look at a block/chunk of stone and envision what the pipe inside looks like before he takes carving tools (often made by himself) in hand to release the pipe inside. Some are simple, classic pipe designs often found in the more common briar pipes while others are ornate design of animals, heads, designs and such.

Mohamet offered me a knife and a small block of meerschaum and told me to carve. The stone is quite soft and easily yielded to the very sharp steel blade. It was easy to take too much of the stone away and took a deft touch to begin to see the shape emerge. But while I was fumbling with my carving, I noticed that in the same time, he had produced a beautiful sultan’s head. The features of the face were well defined, the proportions pleasing and the detail remarkable. But then he is an artist and I am only a biker tourist.

In the end I bought a magnificent, but simple white meerschaum pipe and a second brown (much lower quality but much younger meerschaum mined close to the surface of the ground) meerschaum. When delivered, Mohamet also gave me a second brown pipe.

We had spent the whole morning at the pipe shop filming and laughing and enjoying each other. The visit to Pamukkale was a great success after all.

This morning we are off to Antayla, a city on the south coast of Turkey which promises to be much warmer.

click for page 2 - Antayla to Bodrum