The ferry for Asia apparently leaves in ten minutes and is the only one today. We manage to board on time, after we took a picture of the statue of the great Turkish Admiral Piri Reis (1470-1554). It costs us about six dollars to float from Europe to Asia, and what a view!

Ha, Asia.! But we cannot feel like Alexander the Great long before us; he certainly was no tourist and he had his sights set on much farther east. Driving ever southward, we see the shimmering Dardanelles seaway and large oceangoing ships to our right.

Brand-new holiday homes recently built here, strike the eye. We heard that the Turkish Government had “received” one hundred billion dollars from the USA for organizing holiday-housing complexes all along its western and southern shores. Farther south and west it was indeed just amazing to see so much construction going on.

We belong to the do-it-yourself tourist species. Thus we had a perfect lunch, pick nicking in an empty field. We have a view far and wide of olive trees and the sea. Excuse me please, would you have such joy, such freedom with your all-in package tour? Maybe other pleasures, but not this one! I think what mankind needs is an all-out non-package tour, at least for the free-spirited people among us. (Respect for nature and other people’s property to be included of course!).

All of a sudden a road sign appears for Troy (Truva in Turkish) of Greek mythology. You know, the story in which an enormous wooden horse filled with warriors hiding in it was given as a present to that city. These then opened the gates of the town to waiting invaders.

As for the reality of today, the tourist-trap type booths and the horse, which was out of sight, did not attract us. So we decided to have a look at the here and now of the local hamlet instead. The colorful small farms with a few cows and chickens in the backyard, cotton fields, the harvesting of the last outdoor-grown tomatoes of the season, and so on. The fields here are somewhat smaller than in the European part of Turkey, but – like there - they are all worked just up to the roadside. There are not a lot of wild trees or rough land around as we are used to in Bulgaria. Although Turkey is quite a big country, one third bigger than Spain and Portugal combined, the pressure on the land appears to be heavy because of its ever-expanding population.

Further south and more eastward we take a break at Ezine. Here we bought the necessary foodstuffs and Turkish tea for on the road. The town is very pleasant, well kept and distinctly Turkish. Apparently tourists are extremely rare here. While we walk on the street some people ask us where we are from. Ah, Bulgaria, “komshii”, neighbors. This is just a town for Turkish people, no McDonalds or Kentucky Fried or other signs of shrivilization a.k.a. “civilization”. We meet a very hefty policeman whose smile reaches from one ear to the other. A typical young Turkish family poses for a picture (we asked their permission of course).

For small amount of money we drink a glass of tea in a teahouse (about 100 sq ft.). The proprietor crosses the narrow street delivering orders for hot tea, while he floats by, with his tray high in front of him on one hand. Traders are outside and  on the street.

My wife bought some wool in a very small shop – wool is stacked up to the ceiling - which I think has not seen any refurbishing the last forty years. The owner must have been well into his eighties.

It is the middle of October, and the weather is balmy.

On the road again! By asking we find in the village of Güre a nice pension for the night, ¼ of a mile from the sea. Great luck because all other homes in this holiday village are already boarded up for the winter. A swim in the clean and cold water is invigorating after a long day on the road. Moreover we have a glorious view of an island in the bay, which later we find out is the Greek island of Lesvos. All in all this is a perfect place. However we decide to move on into the new day.

Izmir

The sound of the name alone – Izmir- (“eezmeerr”, the Smyrna of old), makes you dream sweet dreams of fig trees and ships from far away lands, narrow streets and Turkish rugs. Starting at the outskirts of this famous city however, we notice the bare hills full of new colorful apartment buildings, no trees, no landscaping, no shade, but commuter trains, buses and hectic traffic. Hey, wait a minute, what’s going on with the air quality, it looks and feels like brown soup, close the windows, will you. With a quick glance onto the beautiful bay we continue, but not downtown as originally intended. Who likes the beehive goes and flies into it, but not us, out, out, that’s what we want. By now you must have got it of course, we cannot hide it any longer: despite living in a city, we are absolute provincial yokels when it comes to experiences like this.

Even in the sky the weaving goes on: over our heads I notice a nice carpet of interwoven white lines emanating from airplanes; real sky-art. The palm trees in the park along the water are also nice – as on a postcard that was never sent.

South of Izmir we somehow cannot escape the freeway, which is not free, but it is a way that must be paid for. For only a few Euros we “fly” south and gain a lot of time, which we do not need, because we have plenty of it, and where should we store this extra time? Maybe someone should invent a time-bank - where you can later claim your saved time - with the slogan “Save time now, travel even more later” (how’s that for an alternative to the outdated “Buy now, pay later” !).

Onwards it goes towards Didim, which according to the map should be just the perfect place. Sad mistake! It turns out to be a modern concrete ghetto in a desert near the sea. During the high season it is surely full of people, lively and interesting, now it is an eerie moonscape with concrete huts and no trees or even shrubs. In the dark we find a hotel, noisy, kamikaze mosquitoes in the room, no-sleep, but a very nice breakfast. It’s all in the game, no complaints, adventure is adventure and if something inside you wants to complain you just tell it to shut up.

Somewhere on the road we pick up a Turkish farmer whose tractor had run out of fuel. We dropped him at a gas station with the intention of returning him to his tractor, but the idea came to nothing because we could not understand each other. The road onwards was exceedingly beautiful through a desolate landscape with colored mountains and a shining lake.

Driving on the roads of Turkey is a pleasure because the traffic is very sparse. The price of gasoline certainly is a factor, what with 1.25 Euro per liter (at the time about 6 USD per US gallon). Always be aware please of the difference in the price indicated on the road signs of the oil companies, and the actual price at the pump!! The price at the pump can be 10% to 20% more. I categorically boycotted all gas stations with phoney prices and made clear why. The Turkish State petrol company mostly advertises honest prices though. Once I drove back about ten miles, again fed up with a gas-price ploy, and filled up at the Turkish State petrol company with “real” prices and excellent service. They were very friendly and helpful and moreover did not only clean the windows, but offered to wash the whole car, for no extra money.

The approach to the city of Mula, which lies somewhat away from the coast, is very scenic. From high up one looks down over the valley and sees a very large modern dairy farm; the cows are like small specks in the field. This city turns out to be very pleasant. It has a university - students are all over the place – and there is a lot of nice greenery. Trying to find a parking place is difficult, because this is a bigger town and full of cars! We end up in the old-town with narrow streets and hope we’ll be able to get out again. Finally we park at a guarded parking place, i.e., a boy gives us a piece of paper and we pay him later.

What a very nice and interesting city, worth a visit! And I think many a westerner would not mind living here! It is cleaner than a whole bunch of western cities and has a lot of amenities; and no tourists to be seen anywhere (except us of course). Modern buildings, old buildings, nice little restaurants, modern shops, old shops, parks, fountains. In the old town there is a street for artisans, a street for bakers, etc. I imagine the streets of medieval Europe with its artisan guilds as I walk. If you like Turkish rugs, they are plenty here.

We continue south to Marmaris, a very well-known seaside tourist town. The road leads over steep mountains with a fantastic view. Driving is for the not so faint-hearted because the roads are very steep, apparently to save on road building costs. Just before Marmaris there is a wide flatlands, almost at sea level. Here large eucalyptus trees thrive and also orange-trees, the fruits of which are still greenish. The lay of the land changes completely; we have definitely arrived in a subtropical region! On a map of the Mediterranean basin it can be seen that the latitude here corresponds with Tunis in North Africa and Seville in Spain.

And there it is, Marmaris, seen from above, on a splendid horseshoe like bay, what a beauty, and with boats along the shore. Once down to the level of the town, we find out that life here is hectic, with still a lot of tourists, despite it being the second half of October. “Heck, it was not our idea to be in some anthill, let’s move out and up”, I say. We are at the end of the day, no hotel, the sky darkens as does the expression on the face of my wife as we move up steep winding mountain roads along deep ravines. We move further to the coast as we descend from the mountains. Aided by some signs and just a general feel for the land, we arrive at a perfect place, Hisarönü. This must be what a south-sea island looks like. A beautiful bay, absolutely deserted, some sailing boats on the beach. A hotel. Hurray!

The hotel appears to be closed for the season. Some friendly worker points us to a pension further along the beach. Yes, it’s really so, we meet an American, and he even speaks German and English and, oh surprise, some Bulgarians. But, alas, the room is dank and cold.

We move on, in pitch dark, but there is another hotel on the bay. Me oh my, what a luxury outfit! A bus with European tourists arrives. This appears to be a five star hotel. What to do? OK, I agree it is dark and we have to sleep after a long day on the road. All in all we spend a few days here, negotiating the price, after all this is Turkey, they understand these things, and it’s out of season. The formula is: you pay for a certain period, up front, you get your room key, there are no worries anymore, because you don’t pay a dime when you are here, all is included, food as much as you like, drinks as many as you want, swimming pools, beach facilities, tennis, some other sports, just great, all is included. And all of this in a nicely landscaped park in a beautiful isolated setting on a bay with mountains rising up from the sea and forests reaching the seashore. From the docks you can even see schools of fish! Can you believe it? And even people can swim here; the water is quite salty and it keeps you afloat.

After the third day of luxury we are fully satisfied with this excellent hotel and are rested enough to continue our tour. We decide to return home on a road that will takes through the interior of the country. Over a narrow and winding road we pass through extensive forests, pine plantations. It had already struck me that large areas in Turkey, mainly mountain areas and hills, have been deforested. I think the Turks have done a great job here. Instead of ruining the landscape, they are restoring it and at the same time producing valuable wood and improving the water table.

We pass by Kavakldere (Turkish for “poplar-valley”) and continue north. In the Bozda-mountains (Turkish for Gray mountain) it is exceedingly beautiful. Very steep, high mountains, great view. We pass through a green valley up in the mountains, with high trees. Don’t get confused as I first did, by the sign, which says kayak merkezi, that does not mean white water rafting, but rather skiing. This is a ski-center.

We follow a sign to a hotel. The hotel is Turkish, and I mean Turkish, only men sitting around in droves, all staring at us. Here people are still interested in what goes on around them, everything out of the ordinary is an event. We decide to continue driving, and arrive in a small town. We find a pension, it is clean, but the price totally out of kilter, no lights on the stairs and no negotiating accepted in any way. It is already dark, what to do?: “to get in the car and drive to the end of the world if necessary”. Well, we don’t quite reach that far, but winding our way over a narrow but well kept road, we reach the town of Salihli. It lies on the main Izmir-Ankara road. Big trucks galore, a lot of noise, gas stations, restaurants, car services, neon lights. We drive through the center, hoping to find a pension in a quiet part of town. Nothing around there, no go.

My wife decides to ask a young couple, probably students, about a hotel. They speak only Turkish, we are deep into the country, why speak another language. Nevertheless they understand her and we somehow understand them; we are learning Turkish. They sit with us in the car, guiding us to a hotel we thought was suitable. So friendly and helpful! Yes of course they are dressed differently and pray differently, but they were very nice people!

The hotel is small and in a busy part of town, but no traffic outside after 10 p.m. It was a place in fact used only by Turkish people, not foreign tourists. After last night’s five star hotel, this is absolutely a no star hotel - this makes it all the more interesting to us. In the morning, about 6 am, a loud prayer-call from a nearby mosque wakes us up, reminding us that here we live in a different world, with a somewhat different approach to people and things. Early in the morning we are already walking around, taking pictures. In a narrow street we drink tea and laugh tears because nearby we are amused by some local free morning theater. A man on a flat roof is waving a broom over his head to chase away the pigeons and disappears. The pigeons return after 30 seconds, after which the man pops up again out of nowhere and repeats his act of vengeance. This goes on for at least 15 minutes. Without a trace of an idea on both sides to give up the battle: survival of the fittest? We share our observations and our laughter with the Turks in the teahouse. We part, each side waving goodbye like we were old friends.

A bus comes down the street, on it is written Allah Korusun, something like God Protects. We see a woman in traditional dress going by a store with signs: Elektronik, Gold Master, Sunny, Next Star. Thus new and traditional exist side by side; a very interesting world. We even notice a small shop advertising real estate, but we do not take notes. I find it hard to imagine that prices would be high by western standards. Certainly it would be quite unusual for a “westerner” to want to live here I presume.

On leaving town we see horses and wagons lined up near an intersection, waiting for transportation orders. White, big horses are common here, but also the smaller sinewy tough Asian type.

North of Sahlili we drive over a narrow road through a landscape with orange-trees, fields of alfalfa and cotton-fields. The villages offer an interesting contrast of modern and traditional. Some roofs have solar collectors, while in the background one sees the tower of the mosque pointing at the sky. Most of the forest on the mountainsides behind the village has disappeared, on our left is pastureland for goats and sheep, and olive trees have been planted. I stop to take a picture of the boy on the mule, on his way to the steep gardens outside the village.

The winding mountain road is good but narrow. There is no curb or reserve space. We see a real off-road vehicle: a truck whose fate is sealed. When you are off the road here, you are really off the road! The road enters a pine forest. We stop for a bit of water and bread and see beehives under trees. This honey must be of excellent quality.

Hours later we enter a wide valley with strange conical shaped hills. Our first impression is that these are man-made, but to what purpose? We follow a path onto an empty field: a good place for a picnic and a closer look at these enigmatic hills. Up drives a pickup truck and a gentleman gets out. He speaks English, we have a friendly conversation; an olive tree plantation a bit further on is his. He explains that these hills are tumuli, graves built for Lydian kings, who ruled from the other side of the valley, he points across the valley to the city of Sardis, the capital of the once thriving Lydian empire. These people lived here with the Greeks to their west and the Persians to the east. Turkey is an amazing place as far as history is concerned.

We learn from this farmer that Turkey is the largest producer of olives in the world; that a lot of so-called Italian olive oil is made from Turkish olives. In our experience, Turkish, Greek, Italian oil is all of excellent quality if you don’t buy the cheapest. Wherever we went on our trip in this southwestern part of Turkey, we saw olive trees; old trees, new plantations, in the valleys, up the hills, on the mountainsides. Agriculture in Turkey is very important. We also see large cotton fields, the cotton is picked by hand. In the European part of Turkey the growing of wheat is prominent judging by the enormous grain elevators by the roadside.

Despite its large size, the city of Balkesir has clean air. We easily find our way out of town; we have no intention of staying here. Generally speaking the roads in this part of Turkey are of a high quality and road-signs are clear. Driving is easy, because chauffeurs are not as much in a hurry as in Portugal or southern Italy. The city appears to be a mixture of older and more modern architecture and certainly does not look backwards; it is thriving!

We plan on taking the inland route leading to Çanakkale on the coast. On the map this looks like a first-class road. About 40 km out of Balkesir we enter an area of deep forests and great nature, but the road here is more like an upgraded donkey trail than anything else. It is about 100 miles to the coast, what can we expect from here on in? Hey, if we want to see something interesting off the beaten track, then we must continue, what the heck! We see lots of interesting plants, birds of prey, rocky ledges, pine plantations, scrubby oak forests, sheep, cows, poor old and poor young shepherds, little hamlets, villages with a mosque, a truck that didn’t make it (off the road) – very winding stretches of road, in fact most of the about 100 miles is winding. We stop and drink water at a source, apparently quite old, because something is written in old Arabic? In Turkey, as in Bulgaria, in the mountains one can find unadulterated safe natural water for drinking.

We cross little streams, clear as the light of a beautiful day. Everything becomes greener; the influence of the nearby sea. To our right is a plowed field so steep that we wonder how they could get up there at all. Later on the area gets wilder and wilder again, surely bears and wolves live their peaceful lives here. It gets dark and we are still winding through this forest, and no lights anywhere to be seen. Finally Çanakkale comes in sight and we decide to try our luck for the ferryboat to Europe. It appears they cross every hour or so. Bye-bye Asia, hope to see you again!

Eceabat is the town on the European side of the Çanakkale Boazi (Dardanelles), the strait connecting or separating (that depends on your point of view) Europe and Asia. Our hotel for the night is only 100 yards from the water; a location for millionaires. I contend that this is not your average Hilton, its past glory is evident, but the staff is friendly, the room is clean and God bless, there is no TV, so the neighbors are quiet. From our balcony we have a superb view of the Turkish flag, the ferryboat dock and large ocean ships passing by. The price of the room is 30.000.000 Turkish Lira. You see, in Turkey everyone can be a millionaire, honestly speaking you have to be one, because for the ferryboat we paid eight million Lira, which is about six dollars.

And on a totally different issue, if you want to process your e-mails here, you can! We saw the Mesken Internet Café, on the square just opposite the ferryboat dock. But, as this is still Turkey, and because of the charm of it, you can see in front of this internet café a blue painted wagon drawn by a white horse.

The next morning we see three officials bring a salutation to the statue of Kemal Atatürk, the great father of Turkey. The occasion is the commemoration of one hundred years of Turkish Postal service. In every town in Turkey we saw a statue of this great Turkish personality. And it becomes even clearer why Atatürk is so revered. In the area where we are now, the battle of Gallipoli once raged. Atatürk is said to have played a leading role in the successful outcome – for the Turks - of this battle.

In the First World War, many Australians and New Zealanders fought very bravely here for the interests of the British Empire, but the Turks drove them back. We conclude that it is about time for mankind to smarten up, and we travel on.

In Gelibolu (Gallipoli when the Greeks lived here) we take our time now. Living here for a while seems like a good idea. What with this superb location at the water and so near Istanbul, Greece and Bulgaria! The town itself is very scenic with an old fortress, an inner and an outer fishing harbor and ferry docks, a view of Asia, large ocean freighters, little fishing boats bobbing in the water, a fish market, waterfront houses, restaurants, nice shops in winding streets going slightly uphill, old quarters with wooden houses, fig trees, various mosques, friendly people. We see the students coming by in their school uniforms. All in all, Gelibolu is a very nice town, historical, yet modern with all the amenities, picturesque and lively.

At Uzunköprü (Turkish for long-bridge) we cross the river over a bridge made of stone; it may be five hundred years old.

The interesting thing in Turkey is that you see a country modernizing itself and at the same time clinging on to tradition. That makes Turkey very worthwhile to visit.

The adventurous may even consider putting roots down here. Why not? It is a beautiful and sunny country and surely in and through tourism there is an income to be made.

Anyway, we had a nice time and we wish you the same!