Apologies for my less than average attempt at blogging
recently. It has been an extremely stressful and uncertain time for me, as my
lovely housemate decided to kick me and Maiju out of our home because we didn't invite him to a party. With three weeks left in Turkey, this was not fun. The
reality of staying on peoples sofas for a few weeks, along with 9 months’ worth
of my stuff that I had collected was not ideal. However, the situation was
resolved with many thanks to Phil – who agreed to take us in for a week or two.
Many Thanks.
So, let us rewind for a week or two. Imagine it is the 1st
of May. Close your eyes and let the waves of time take you there. Okay
children? So I shall begin.
IT ALL STARTED ON THE 1ST OF MAY. Jannet, Marijke
and Steffi - Marijke’s friend from
Holland (the most wonderful dutch ladies) Lorenzo, Andrea (the best Italians in
Turkey) and myself were to begin our venture to the North. With a very severe lack
of planning, we were on our way to Samsun. The over night bus ride which is now
standardized in my Erasmus year was bearable, and made amusing by the bustime
snack of “finger time” cake. We arrived in Samsun at 6 am – and spent a lot of
time milling around the bus station trying to figure out our next plan of
action. Finally, we managed to take a shuttle bus to the harbour, which was
followed by a small nap on the harbour steps. We walked along being the only
people awake in the small city. After a few hours we had our Turkish Coffees, I
read everyones fortune’s (Fal – the reading of someone’s fortunes through the remainders
of their Turkish coffee is a skill I have perfected over here!) Andrea got shit
on by a Pigeon and we decided that Samsun wasn’t so good. As soon as we could
we jumped on another bus to Unye – a small town along the coast. We arrived at
Unye at about mid day – quickly haggled a hotel down to a satisfactory price
and then began to enjoy ourselves. We grabbed lunch, with the help of 3 15 year
old school boys who were fascinated by the Italians and minced off to find a
beach to spend the day on. (or the beeeiiiiitttccccccccchhhh in Italian)
Following this, we grabbed some dinner and had a very pleasant
walk along the harbour.
The next day we headed to Ordu – another small town on the
North. After jumping off the Dolmus rather suddenly, Jannet realized she had
left her purse on the bus. With everything in. Panic. However, after about 30
mins of flapping and trying to figure out which way the bus station was – I received
a call from Serap – my Turkish friend who had originally bought our tickets to
Samsun. She told us that Jannets purse was found and given into the Ordu bus
station! The luckiest thing ever!!!
Following this fiasco, was a fiasco of my own. You know when
you’re scared of something and then you always think you’re not scared because you
haven’t done it for a while? Yeah… turns
out you’re still scared. I discovered this unfortunate truth on the cable car,
which was 9888888208382 miles high and took about 6 hours to get to the top of
the mountain that shadowed Ordu. Luckily, my friends let me squeeze their hands
to death to try and assist me. But jesus, I am so scared of heights its unreal.
However, it was worth it with an absolutely amazing view over the ocean and the
country side that bordered it. The north is a really special place, and so so
so so so green in comparison to the sapphire blue ocean. Once more, we sat ate
and slept. What goes up must come down is a very unfortunate truth as I faced
my fears once more to head back down. We once more strolled along the harbour,
being the only foreigners in sight and had to sneakily drink beers in the park
like 14 year olds. The north is a lot more conservative than I first thought. That
night, we decided to head to Trabzon – the whole aim of the trip to the north
itself. And thank god we did, as here is where it gets good.
As we sat at Ordu bus station, with our best friend who
worked for the bus company, getting us free tea and making sure we were very
well looked after we got a lot of looks. Most of us are used to this now,
always exclaiming “Yabanci var” when we feel we’re being looked at. There was a
family sat on the bench next to us consisting of a three year old girl, two
women and a teenage boy. They were very interested in us and we tried to have a
very limited conversation. When we stopped for cay, we thought it would be a
good idea if they could call ahead to a hotel for us as we had nowhere to stay
and it was already 10pm. This was met with an invitation to stay at their house
in Trabzon. After literally a minutes deliberation we all decided that this was
an amazing offer and very happily took them up on it. (This involved a lot of
very bad Turkish, very bad English and a man on the phone that apparently spoke
English. He could not understand me, but
he understood Lorenzo’s English perfect – perhaps they were on the same level!)
Upon arriving in Trabzon we all gathered to enter the unknown. In a matter of
minutes we were in our own private dolmus, along with flashing disco lights and
very very loud, very very old trance music. Odd. We arrived at their home to
meet their mother, a very traditional looking woman who was about 4ft tool,
about 5 metres wide and dressed in very tradition clothing. She welcomed us
with such a huge smile on her face. All 6 of us crammed into the apartment that
consisted of only 4 rooms. Together we were 11 people. We sat down to one of
the most delicious meals I have ever eaten in Turkey. All prepared by the
mother at about midnight, it was absolutely incredible. Followed by home made
Baklava and buckets of cay we were all so full we could not move. The three
year old that I mentioned before had taken a shining to me – and we quickly
became best friends playing games of “Kedi Nerede?” (Where’s the Kitty – in reference
to her bedraggled stuffed yellow cat) “Kedi Var!” followed by lots of kisses.
Within a few hours she refused to not be by my side, even though I was very
sick of asking where the kitty was. I was also told by the mother of the family
that I was not allowed to leave the house, as she thought I would make a very
fine wife for her 15 year old son. Poor boy, he was so embarrassed. It was
funny for the first time but after about the 7th mention I actually
thought I was going to be kidnapped and never seen again by my family. At about 3am, after hours and hours of broken
conversation and funny moments we were finally allowed to all cram in and get
some rest. It is amazing how much fun you have when neither of the parties can
understand one another.
In the morning we were treated once more to amazing Turkish hospitality,
with the most impressive and tasty Turkish breakfast I have ever eaten.
Incredible. Following this, we ventured into Tarbzon. Trabzon is a really
really interesting city, with a very unique feel to it. I was surprised with
how conservative the North was, but it makes sense as we were also so far East.
We were one of the only women who were not wearing headscarves – and I saw more
women in full burqas than I have ever seen in Turkey. There is also a certain
energy to it, a hype that is difficult to explain. The windy streets were grey
and cobbled and it looked very different to the cities I had visited before.
We had decided that with our limited time we had to visit
the Sumela Monastery. We arranged a bus to take us there. What a sight. This
was by far one of the most impressive and beautiful things I have ever seen in
my life. After about 20 mins of driving out the city, the landscape was so
green and so luscious –it looked like it could have been a valley in France. There
was also a ridiculous amount of walnut trees, we were informed that 80% of the world’s
walnuts come from this area of Turkey. The drive began to wind itself round
mountains and burbling streams. It was really beautiful with so many shades of
green. (50?) Nestled in the greenery was
the Monastry – which looked like it as just hanging to the rockface. Built in
the 1300 as a Christian retreat, and then conquered and remade in the 1800 it’s
history was evident. It was interesting to see inscriptions in Arabic, Persian,
Russian, and then eventually Turkish – giving a very physical representation to
the history of the area. If you ever get the chance, go. It will blow your mind:
We returned to Trabzon in time to check out the market. The
Trabzon women did not take very kindly to the foreign girls and I heard a few
women say some very untoward things, but this did not deter us. We minced
around the carsi, buying more scarves than needed and trying our luck at
haggling in every possible situation. Shopping with Italian boys always takes a
lot of time, as the hour or so in the scarf shop proved. We somehow managed to
find our way back to the families house for another massive dinner. At around
midnight we decided to depart, after a lot of convincing we should stay (and an
awkward moment when one of the women told us her husband had been hitting her)
we managed to convince them that we had to leave for our flight. This was after
a brief session of Turkish dancing however; check this out for a prime example:
So, we headed into the night and back into Trabzon. We
expected to be able to grab a beer and just chill before our flight at 6 am –
the only trouble is… Trabzon closes at
11pm. Literally nowhere was open. We wondered around with our backpacks on
wondering how to kill 6 hours. Luckily, we saw some fellow Yabanci wondering
around who were also on their Erasmus in Trabzon (why would you?) we asked what
we could do for a few hours. They told us their was nothing to do, but
suggested we grab some beers and head to the university as it was just next to
the airport. After grabbing some Efes we discovered that the dolmus’s had also
stopped running. After asking a shopowner how we could get there, he said he
would drive us! And so we all jumped in his car, he locked up his shop and true
to his word, dropped us at the university. Another demonstration of insane
black sea hospitality!
When we arrived at the university we were greeted by a group
of students who were on their wild Saturday night bike ride. They’re English was
very limited, they were also very conservative and were shocked to see girls…
girls drinking beer… wearing skirts. We had a lot of fun trying to understand each
other.. “I get the ball…. You get the ball…. We have the ball…. We go get the
ball… you have ball?” and “Do you know muslims?” Yes.. “Okay.”
When it got to 3 am we decided that we should leave with our
balls and muslims – the conversation was getting ridiculously hard to follow
and everyone was on a bit of a crazy sugar high from the cherry juice on offer.
Conclusions
-
People from the black sea are insanely friendly
and helpful
-
It is probably best to wear a headscarf in Trabzon.
-
We still don’t know who has the ball
-
I am still scared of heights
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