Leaving Turkey

Only one more day before I board the Trans-Asyan Espresi to Iran, 66 hours from here, Istanbul, to Tehran. But to quickly recap the last few days.....

I left Olympos on Saturday morning, with a hurried goodbye to the people I'd made friends with - 3 days is a long time for friendship building in the travel world. It was a 20 minute bus ride to the top of the valley where I was thrown with once bounce straight into another bus to Antalya - being the last on the bus I sat on a wooden box facing backwards for two hours feeling nauseous. On arrival in Antalya I was on another bus to Denizli within 5 minutes. Four and half hours later we pulled into the Denizli Otogar (bus station) - where I was informed I could get a train to Istanbul - with only 5 minutes to spare before the train left I was told the station was on the other side of town. All over for that run of catching transport in the nick of time. The next bus to Istanbul was the overnighter, 5 hours later, so I had an internet session, ate a kebab and sat on a bench reading. When I finally boarded what appeared to be a luxury bus I discovered that the roaring engine of the great beast was tucked below my right elbow - keeping me nice and sweaty, and awake, until I arrived in Istanbul 10 hours later. Since then I have been ferrying myself between the Iranian embassy and the home of the Kocatepe family who have graciously accepted me into their household for a few days. Giving me the chance to live 'Turkish' for a few days, including the 1st birthday party of their little boy Ozan.

There are not many things that take me by surprise, the most stunning man made creation, the most dire poverty, the cruelest act of human atrocity and the most selfless display of love - all these things I have either seen or heard about and imagined. But something that continues to surprise and even delight me (although maybe sometimes I should be a little concerned) is the behaviour of children around the world and how their cultures have and haven't affected them.

On a train from Athens I offered a slender young Greek boy one of our biscuits. Looking at me with his big brown eyes, he held up a long fingered hand - arm half extended and palm facing me, his gesture was almost like a paint brush, stroking my face and said with a slightly elongated but gentle 'No' - almost as if he was trying to soothe me from my frantic state of biscuit offering. It felt like the gesture of a contented old man.

Then on my bus from Antalya to Denizli, I offered a young Turkish boy one of my sweet (but high fibre!) biscuits as an alternative to the bland white bread he was picking at. This time a shorter, younger and more squat little character whom I'd seen earlier frolicking with a younger brother - he half turned to me and smiling with the corners of his eyes only, touched his heart with right hand - saying something in Turkish that sounded like 'gadgitze' - then turned away again. This gesture I have later learnt actually has more religious connotations (I was told this with a slightly concerned tone - the Turks distance themselves from fundamentalism in any form). But at the time it seemed like the behaviour of an older more self aware individual.

Before I leave Turkey I just wanted to quickly sing it's praises. The people are more often than not genuinely friendly - with a sense of humour that seems to gel with Australian humour better than any I've come across in a long time - we had a great time with the Turks in Olympos. It is an efficient, comfortable, organised, colourful, clean, culturally rich, diverse and beautiful country. Bearing in mind I haven't yet been further east than Anatolia. But from what I have seen, I recommend it to anyone traveling to this part of the world (meaning Europe or the Middle East).