January 27th, 2009 
Turkiye 
Note: I will call the city Canakkale, but it is pronounced chan-i-KAH-le. The first “c” has a cedilla. If you don’t know what a cedilla is, it is a caterpillar-like monster killed by Rodan.
Until now I have not had even a bit of jetlag. I am not this lucky even when I fly to California. I have taken some catnaps in the evening but I guess that I would call jetlag wanting to sleep and being unable, not vice versa. This morning I woke at 5am and was not able to get back to sleep. I am not sure it is fair to call that jetlag since it would have been as likely to happen at home. I have been sleeping to normal times more consistently in Turkey than I did at home. I would be curious to hear what Henry Kissinger did about jetlag, since he seems to have been known for having it not bother him. I don’t really mind getting up early if I can have enough light to see my palmtop. I am going through my first pair of batteries very quickly, but then the palmtop is in constant use. I cannot imagine keeping my log on a Palm Pilot. That seems to be the most popular portable device these days. Even the current versions of the palmtop are not so hot since they have widened the keyboard to the point where you cannot easily thumb-type. But HP can get as many unsolicited testimonials as they would like from me on the HP 200LX. These days when I come back from a trip my log is almost entirely written and typed in. It would make for a very long and for you boring description if I explained everything the palmtop does for me on a trip.
The room is fairly cold. It is something like 67 degrees Fahrenheit. That was the one complaint that we had heard about the Berk, that it is chilly. Also half of the lightbulbs are burned out. Maybe that contributes to the cold. We were all packed up and ready to go by breakfast time. Breakfast was much the same. Good tomatoes. The cheese looks like Feta, but is rather tasteless. After breakfast we tried to book a room for May 16, when we return to Istanbul but the Berk was booked. We asked where else we might try and the owner suggested the Alp around the corner. We tried one other hotel first, but the Alp it was.
From there we lugged our stuff to the travel agent. We let him talk us into a tour of Gallipoli at Canakkale. We were planning on going, of course, but it might be for the best to book a day tour.
We got a shuttle bus to take us to the big bus terminal. On the way I was looking at people and noting the variety of different types that Turks are. More so than most countries that we have visited, Turkey seems to be a melting pot of different racial types. Some Turks could be Scandinavian; some are dark enough to be from South India. We see lots who are just swarthy. Big moustaches are popular, but there are relatively few beards. Particularly in Sultanahmet it is hard to tell who is really Turkish and who is tourist. That is a problem we have in the US, but I had not expected here. (Well, not really a problem, I can get in trouble for saying that. It is just hard to tell.) One more comment on their looks, nobody wears moustaches like the Turks. No stingy little pencil-line moustaches for the Turks. When you are Turkish you don’t wear a moustache unless you are serious about it.
This is really our first trip outside the Sultanahmet area since the first day. Streets could be like Hartford, maybe a little run down, but seasoned with the tall pointed spires of minarets. As you look around, however, there are a lot of once-beautiful places. Some building complexes have broken windows and falling masonry. In the middle of the city are building gutted by fire and just left. There are also a lot of buildings that are in the process of being built, but it is a process that takes many years. That is one form of investment. When you have some money you put it into a building. Same day you will have a valuable building. Until then you may have nothing. Many of these buildings may never be finished.
The Turks seem very fond of small, traveling amusement parks. We see a bunch of them on the roads. At least most of the ones I saw seem to load on trucks and travel. Where we live the amusement parks are mostly more stable, except for the occasional carnival. But it is odd to drive through a metropolitan city and see all the spires for mosques and the occasional carnival.
Our shuttle bus takes us to the Otogar, the International Istanbul Bus Terminal. This is one of the largest bus stations in world and while we are on the outskirts where there is not much happening in the station, you can see the terminal just goes on and on. We climb on the bus and listen to the people behind us. These are Australians and they are real travelers, not like us. They are swapping stories about driving around the Zambezi and Kenya. Apparently they had planned to hike up Kilamanjaro but were too drunk. Pity. I would have wanted to know if there really is the carcass of a leopard near the top.
While we listen someone comes through and takes our ticket. They are telling a story about trying to cross some border on top of a truck. My best travel stories pale by comparison-or would if I tried to enter in the conversation.
The bus pulls out of the station among an entire herd of buses hitting the road. For a while it is bumper to bumper. There is little progress.
The steward-if that is the word-comes around second time asking for the ticket. We had a hard time explaining we had given it already. He did not understand our English. The woman behind said in a thick Australian accent “I gave it to you already.” That he understood. We said us too and he was satisfied.
The steward comes around with same sort of lemon-scented aftershave like stuff so we could freshen up. After that he comes around with packaged cookies and with orange soda. This is apparently a music bus with refreshments.
We are traveling west along the north coast of the Marmara Sea. This takes us through Thrace, the home of Spartacus and the dragon from Dragonslayer.
At 1:50 we stopped for a rest top at a roadside stand. We bought some cookies and crackers for the bus. There was somebody selling grilled kofte sandwiches. Kofte is a lamb meatball in a finger shape. They took a quarter loaf of bread, sliced it open, painted the two halves with a hot peppery sauce, filled it with kofte straight off the grill, added minced onion and lettuce. That was 500,000TL or $2. One of the group labeled it a rip-off and said it should have been only $1. He went back for a second one though. I had only one and Evelyn gave me part of hers because the sauce was too spicy (!!!). If I had eaten any more it would have been unhealthy. But when I am hungry again, I know what I am going to be hungry for. These Turks know how to eat! Actually the Greeks get credit in the US for this cuisine. I am told they adopted it from their enemies the Turks.
Today was the first day we got any sunshine. Unfortunately we were on a bus most of the day. At one point in the afternoon I was actually caught up, but it is tough to stay caught up. I was writing a bit on the history of Turkey to include in the early parts of this log. Coming to Canakkale the last piece is a ferry across the Dardenelles. It gave us a chance to get some sunlight. We talked to an Australian woman of all of 21 who was spending a year just travelling on her own. Greece, Turkey, all over Europe, Thailand, Korea, on and on. She was traveling on the cheap, but really seeing a lot of the world. Australians supposedly seem to go in for these yearlong tours. If they are paying to get out of Australia, they are going to stay out. Interestingly her reasons for wanting to travel paralleled things I had said on my log. She is looking for culture shock and to understand how different people think. I think her year of travel will be more valuable to her than any year I will ever spend will be to me. I kind of wish I had done what she is doing when I was young enough to do it.
We got to Canakkale and booked a room in the Hotel Bakir, the oldest hotel that was recommended in the Lonely Planet. (Lonely Planet is the publisher a series of travel guides. They are indispensable in Asia. With the possible exception of the Rough Guide it is the best. It is by far the most popular.) I think Evelyn likes older hotels if they have some sort of a feel for a previous age. This one sort of does. Our room has a very nice view onto the water. The whole town has a very different feel from that of Istanbul. It is a sunny seaside feel I guess. You just want to sit and watch the rusty boats come in.
There is a restaurant just below our window. A boat is anchored in the water maybe 100 yards away. The room is not well maintained. The bottom of the bathroom door is curling and it is difficult to open. I am pleased to see that there is no little wastebasket next to the toilet for paper disposal. You never know if something like that is standard across a country or just in the first place you see. What is standard the same about this toilet is a metal tube under the seat but over the bowl. I think it is used to clean the toilet or it might be a bidet. This one sticks up a little high and sort of gooses the user. At the last place it was not set so high.
We were told to book a tour for Gallipoli at the Anzac House. We were not told where it was. Next chore was to go out looking for it. It took us some searching around but we found it. Then it turned out that the Lonely Planet cautioned against it, so we went instead to Troy-Anzac where they tried bait and switch to have us book a more expensive tour. No go.
Back at the room we were writing and reading a booklet. Our lobby had some free booklets explaining what Gallipoli was all about. I don’t know if they have them all the time. Last Saturday was Anzac Day. Every year on April 25 the Turks celebrate the coming of the Anzacs. They came to defeat the Turks but instead learned to like them. The Turks show their love of the Anzacs each year and since the Australians and New Zealanders have fought no battles on their own soil; they come to celebrate in Canakkale every April 25. The place fills up with Aussies and Kiwis.
That was last Saturday. There were three booklets. One was from the Australian War Memorial and was okay. The other two turned out to be different editions of a guide published by the Turkish government. I had researched the battle before coming and written an account for this log. I had used the some of the best books I have including Dupuy and Dupuy’s Encyclopedia of Military History. Ironically the best account of the battle I found was this booklet given away free in the hotel. It explains the fighting in more detail than the reader can take in one reading. You don’t generally expect to find good writing in little stacks in your hotel, but these booklets are worth studying.
I also tried to find good radio stations. If there is a classical music radio station, I cannot find it.
Dinner was at a cafeteria style restaurant. It was just okay. I had meatballs in sauce, which I sopped up with bread. Then the toothpick broke in my mouth with the tip stuck between my teeth. I had a heck of a time getting it out. When I did I found it was a piece of wood maybe 3/16 of an inch in length. From now on I will wait and floss.
More reading in the room and then to bed at 10:30. One of the tours offers seeing the film Gallipoli with Mel Gibson the night before. It would have been nice but it really has little historical detail about the battle, if I remember correctly.
I just have film too much in my blood. I tend to go into film withdrawal if I don’t see a movie at least once a week. I rather expect there will be a lot of film references in this log before it is finished.
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