Email to Colin and Chrissy's friends in Khoy

This email bounced back, so am posting it on Colin and Chrissy's blog in the hope that the Ebadi family will see it:

Dear Mr and Mrs Ebadi and family

Colin has written about the night he and Chrissy spent with you, and I just wanted to say – from one mother to another mother and her family, how very grateful I am to you all for making both Colin and Chrissy so welcome and letting them, for a short time, experience real life in your country. This experience will live with them forever because this is what true traveling is about; not just visiting the tourist spots, but meeting the people and trying to gain a knowledge of their lives.

So thank you all; your kindness and hospitality is greatly appreciated by Colin and Chrissy but in the wider family context it is also greatly appreciated by me and my family, and Chrissy's family. So a very big and heartfelt thank you to you all.

With best wishes.

Val Javens

Posted by Blog Assistant

Western Iran - 25th - 27th July 2010

Kandovan is a village in the province of East Azarbaijan, near Osku and Tabriz, Iran. Its fame is due to its troglodyte dwellings. Some of the houses are at least 700 years old and are still inhabited. Kandovan is also known for its scenic beauty. A popular resort, it offers hotels and restaurants to serve tourists. Its mineral water is also popular with visitors and is believed to be a cure for kidney disease.

From my tracking of Cols and Chrissy my preconception of Iran has been blown out of the water. Khoy, as Cols has already mentioned, is said to be the original garden of Eden. There are paddy fields and Iran was the home to the original barley. Bordered by Mesopotamia and Turkey, western Iran has witnessed many of civilisation’s great empires, fortunes oscillating between trading glories and military decimation. The region is known for its great hospitalitybut it lacks the well known areas of central Iran so it’s often skipped by first-time Western visitors. But that makes it all the more appealing for those who relish delving a little deeper and being the ‘only tourist’.

Posted by Blog Assistant

Carry On Camping

As my first blog entry, I don’t know what to begin writing about due to the fantastic sights we’ve witnessed and experiences we’ve had. Col has a brilliant job keeping the blog functioning and his dedicated many hours to this, even to the extent that he’s been blogging on the bog! Val, you are the best blog assistant this side of the Caspian and thanks for filling in all the bits we’ve missed and keeping worried mums posted on our whereabouts. So where to begin. When I reflect on all the good times on the trip so far, the people we have met spring to mind and so I dedicate this blog entry to the campers, characters and champions we have met enroute.

It has been nearly a month and half since we’ve been on the road and we’ve camped every night apart from four, three of which we spent in Serbian hostel’s (not that we didn’t grow to love our aforementioned ‘Soviet-esq Campsite’) and one in a colossal 4 star eye sore in Tabriz, Iran. As such we’ve become acquainted (in the case of tight Speedo clad Germans, ‘very’ acquainted) with our fellow campers. We have noticed that campsites have a dominate nationality as people of a similar heritage tend to cluster in packs. Germans and Italians have dominated the scene and have left the biggest impressions on us.

Zee Germans

You can spot Germans a mile away. They park their caravans in an orderly fashion, keeping their surroundings immaculate and they parade around in Speedos one size to small, pulling them up as high as their world-cup induced beer bellies allow. They are the ambassadors of speedo’s so much so that they promptly dress down into them like a pair of pyjamas after a jammed pack day of sight seeing, even with no beach in sight. They also like to take an authoritarian role in the camp. For example, in one case a german retiree approached me about a serious matter one morning. She placed her hands a ruler length apart and said sternly, “You have left zee big package in zee toilet!!” It was at this point Col looked at me alarmingly, wondering how my body could produce something of this unflushable dimension, but after she marched me to the toilet like a naughty school girl I realised she was merely referring to the bin bag I’d naively placed in the rubbish bin adjacent to the toilet, when its correct home was the identical rubbish bin outside. In another example Col rightly pointed out that to Germans camping spots are like sun beds. We discovered this on our second day in Oren (on the Aegean Coast). We had selected what we thought was a pretty mediocre camping spot. It was close to the toilet block and our view of the beach was obscured by two symmetrically placed caravans. Moreover, the ground was littered in rotting fruit from the tree above, which ended up covering our vanfloor in a sticky residue. But apparently it was like the crème de le crème of camping spots. On arrival, a German couple circled our camping spot like lions on a kill. When Col flashed one of his infamous smiles it was only met with a cold stare. We thought that we must have got the wrong idea when the lady finally approached us, but instead of the usual formalities e.g. where are you from, where have you been (hell even a hello would be nice), she directly stated ‘Vhen vill you leave?’ followed by ‘Vhat time vill you leave?’ It was only then that we realised that we mistakenly intruded on this seasonal territorial German couple’s annual camping spot. All we could do was laugh. On the plus side we have met some great Germans and really do have a soft spot for them. For example, we have met Helga and Hossein - a lovely German couple on a Turkish road trip to rediscover Hussein’s Turkish roots. They kindly invited us over for our first cup of campers tea and were routinely popping into our van for a chat. Then there was Michael who regularly helped me push Col’s shower chair to and from the bathroom across pebbly terrain, enthusiastically relaying the latest world cup football scores on these short journeys. In a similar case, there was also another German who without prompting eagerly helped propel Col aboard his shower chair at high speeds towards the shower block, upon seeing me struggle. We never caught his name as the guy was in such a rush – although adept at multi-tasking, the poor guy had been busting for a number two during his spontaneous act of generosity. Finally there was helpful Herbert who happily divulged the secret GPS coordinates of other crème de la crème camping spots and suggestions on the best sights to see.

Lively Italians:

You can always hear Italians well before seeing them as you approach a campsite whether it’s due to their loud and impatient announcements that dinner’s ready “mangia, mangia bene, andiamo MANGIATE” or the rev of a hired-motor scooter. Their campsites are tainted by the scent of another mouthwatering Italian Bolognese sauce or the waft of espresso. They usually travel together in big groups of extended families and are even apt to packing their pet cats along for the journey! Italians love to be involved where the action is and are always willing to help. Upon pushing Col up a grassy hill to a shower block in Selcuk, in our ten minute journey we picked up three random and jovial Italians along the way, all keen to help and direct the pushing process, all keen to hear about our travels and all keen to joke around. E.g. One of these jovial Italian’s, who was not convinced that I was Australian, had a good time ordering me to jump up and down like a kangaroo, to test the authenticity of my heritage. On another occasion, when I was loosening the wheel nuts that had been overtightened during our scam incident, in no time at all two separate Italians had approached me, each demonstrating with flexing biceps and macho charisma the appropriate way to loosen the nuts. This was despite the fact I had already requested help from a Turkish fellow, who accidentally put his foot in it, when unaware that the new helpers were Italian, joked that Italians were the ones who taught the Turkish how to scam tourists. On our journeys we met some great Italians – a family of Italians who had opened a camping ground near Ephesus and were prone to stuffing our already heavily laden vehicle with free food –bunches of mint, tomatoes, cucumbers and massive watermelons. Vincenzo, Adrianna, Lorenzo, Antonio and Rita a gregarious bunch of lively Italians always keen to chat about the latest campsite gossip in the toilet block. Finally, we met a lovely unassuming retired couple Paula and Lorenzo who we eagerly bumped into again and again on our travels, so much that when they weren’t around, we hopefully looked at the camping ground entrance like kids waiting for Santa Claus on Christmas eve. They were very laid back and yet would always go out of their way to help – assisting us with maintenance checks on the car, offering us tourist tips and giving us slideshow presentations of all the unaccessible parts of Turkey Col and I had missed. On one occasion I had a laugh as Paula offered to stand for a good ten minutes next to Col, holding a pink parosol over him to shield him from the blazing sun like he was royalty.

But it’s not just fellow campers who have left us with great memories. On these journeys it has also been fantastic to catch up with old friend’s en route and a few thankyou’s are in order:
- Val, John, Barrie, Harry, Oscar, Esme, Ben, Heth and Viola – thank you for giving up your weekends to help us load the vehicle and prepare for our journey. We wouldn’t have made it without you.
-Barrie, Catherine, Mike, Ryanie, Char, Doc, Kiko, Emma x 2, Steve, Nat, Evita and Youssef thankyou so much for the warm send off in London on a schoolnight. We had a fantastic night. P.s. Catherine and Mike thanks for the fantastic hospitality!
- Lad, Christianne and new addition Rea thankyou for the coffee and cakes and making time to meet us in unseasonally drizzly Swiss weather, during an important world cup game. It was great to see you and hopefully next time it will be sooner!
- To the entertaining Shari and Mark, our first campervan guests, thank you for squeezing into Miranda for a night of pasta, minty wrapper competitions and laughs. You guys are legends and we wish you luck on your road trip.
- Sabine we loved schnitzelling it up with you in Vandans. Thankyou for being our video camera guinea pig and preparing a delicious Austrian smorgasbord breakfast for us.
- To the Ohrid crew your Belgrade hospitality was seriously exceptional. Thankyou for being our tour guides, arranging accessible accommodation for us and showering us with delicious foods. Tijana you should open a tourist office. Dearest Mile thankyou for the book, Milun for the lovely beer and funny footage, Vlad for the tasty Burek, redwine and candles; and Llijia for the funky flip flops!
- Last but not least, even though we have only just met you, to the amazing AJ, Rosa, Asha, Eden and Portia thanks for cooking us such a delicious gourmet three course camping meal. It made us grin from ear to ear and we look forward to seeing you guys in the UK along with Nick and Jo. Hopefully the after eight game hasn’t kicked off too many a food fight.

Posted by Chrissy

Border Crossing

The border crossing was a bit of a nightmare as it took so long (5hrs) to get through and it was cooking - I think it must have been close to 40 degrees. Having crossed the border it was getting late, so we started to look for somewhere to sleep. Finally we stopped in a remote village to ask if we could sleep anywhere in our van. Luckily, the man we asked could speak English (he is a retired Math’s teacher but was tending to his small farm in a remote village) and he invited us to stay with him and his family in the nearby town (60km across a twisting, hilltop road) called Khoy. Khoy turned out to be a bustling town and we ended up arriving in the dark at his home where his wife, two sons and two daughters made us feel incredibly welcome. They fed us a traditional Iranian meal (chicken, chilli & tomato like casserole with fried potatoes and you eat it with a chapatti-like bread) followed by water melon and lots of cups of chai, whilst sitting cross legged on their Persian carpeted floors. They seemed absolutely delighted to be speaking English and sharing their lives with us. They were all incredibly smiley and all laughed with great ease. Even though they insisted that we should sleep in their home that night we decided to sleep in the van, because it was easier to get into my bed rather trying to sleep on their carpeted floor (getting me from the floor to my chair would have been really difficult). The next morning I almost wished we had slept in their home because the 'sweat box' was absolutely boiling. I later thought that it was really lucky we have become a little acclimatized to the heat otherwise the heat in the van would have been really difficult to cope with. That morning they fed us again. This time we had another type of flat bread which you spread a soft white cheese on to it as well as cranberry jam. After breakfast the oldest son along with his wife, younger brother and sister guided us in their car towards the road to Tabriz.

We had the most fantastic experience sharing a little part of their lives, which was mainly thanks to their warmth and generosity. We also learnt so much about Iranian life in such a short time and with out writing to much about the restraints they endure on a day-to-day basis it made Chrissy and I really appreciate the freedom we have to do what ever we like in the country that we live in. In retrospect it was interesting to contemplate – ‘if a stranger pulled you over in your town looking for somewhere to sleep would you invite them into your home?’ I think I could guess what the answer would be from the majority of people, which just goes to show what a generous and trusting act it was for them to invite us into their home.

Rather than stopping in the bustling city of Tabriz we decided to try and find somewhere to sleep in a village called Kandovan 50km south of Tabriz, which is a rock chimney like settlement equivalent to Cappadocia in Turkey but not quite so grand. Kandovans claim to fame is that it is the supposed site of the garden of Eden. What we didn’t account for though was that it was a Friday (The Iranian equivalent to our Saturday) and Iranians LOVE and are EXPERTS at picnicking. In the short time we’ve been in Iran we’ve seen families pitched up under the shade of a tree; sitting on their blankets; brewing up chai on their gas burners and generally going about picnicking with great expertise. As a result I think the majority of the inhabitants of Tabriz had packed up their hampers, piled them, along with their families into their cars or balanced them along the length of their motorbikes and headed for the same destination we were headed for. The drive was like driving up the towards Rhayader dams in the Elan valley in Wales but very much drier. The land we have been driving through had been very barren, so it was great to see so many trees (hazel nut we think?), which lined some of the valleys walls that we drove through. When we finally arrived at Kandonvan we never imagined every man, his dog and his kebab would be there. Traffic along the narrow road was banked up for miles and we (my hand-controls) seemed to be the star attraction of the hordes of people weaving through the queue of cars, whilst carrying their bundles of picnic gear. As we continued up the road, the tarmac ran out giving way to a cobble street which later turned into a dust track that was constrained by houses that were built directly on the roadside. Every other moustached pedestrian turned out to be a volunteer traffic warden, however, their patients would run out with in ten minutes and they would walk off leaving the traffic in a worse state of chaos than it had previously been in. Occasionally we would see a man on a donkey or a women herding a few sheep in between the chaos and I could just imagine that they were wishing all of the tourists would leave so that their home could return to the tranquil valley (with a stream trickling through the bottom of it) that it had been before they had arrived. It took us roughly one and a half hours to drive to the top of the valley (1km); half an hour to do a U-turn (thanks to the help of some unhelpful volunteer traffic wardens) and another one hour and a half to get out of the village. In that time Miranda scraped through one nasty pothole; she picked up a scratch down one side of her thanks to some not very good local driving; the hand controls had hell of a work out but on the plus side I would now class myself as a world class professional ‘Local Driver’ e.g. I now use my horn during every manoeuvre (no matter what I’m doing) and I never use my indicator to let anyone know what I’m doing. After ALL that we had to drive the 50km back to Tabriz and ended up in a gaudy ‘business hotel’ wishing we where camping in Miranda. We are now sitting in the foyer making the most of the free internet. Chrissy is currently writing her diary and is dressed in the strict Iranian dress code i.e. a black headscarf and with only her hands and feet showing. Oh yes and Chrissy seriously loaded up on the complimentary breakfast this morning, so much so that I’ve nicknamed her ‘little horse’.

Anyway our three days in Iran has been fantastic and we hope to update the blog as soon as we can but internet access may be harder to find from here on in. We can't upload pictures at the moment but we will do in another country.

Posted by Colin

Cappadocia Cross Roads

For years Cappadocia has been a fundamental trading post along the famous ‘silk route’ where traders from East and West have met to sell various goods. Silk, was an obvious trade good but just as importantly was textiles. In the fairy chimney town of Goreme we heard how textiles (carpets) use to act as a type of currency. When a woman married she was given a handmade carpet from her mother, which acted like a dowry. Generally these carpets were stored in a metal container and the woman knew that what ever happened i.e. whether her husband died or in case of a rainy day she could exchange the carpet for money, so if you see a Persian carpet and it looks brand new it could have been stored away for years and have just been cashed in to buy the latest flat screen TV? It was also expected than women would generally make four carpets in her life. Quite an impressive task when you consider how intricate the carpets are and that she would have to make them in between doing the cleaning, tending to the land, cooking or looking after her children.

Goreme was a magical place and to us it felt like the ‘Over-Landers Cross Roads’. We waited nearly a week in one campsite waiting for a package from the UK where we met several other over-landers. We met

Nick & Joanne, who had just travelled up from Cape Town in their Toyota and AJ, Rosa, Asha, Aiden and Portia – a family who are completing the same African overland challenge. All great people and we hope we can meet them again in the future!

In preparation for the next stretch of our journey i.e. Iran and the ‘Stans’ Chrissy stocked up with supplies and only bought 16 (BIG) boxes of cereal!

Dogubayazit - last Turkish stop before Iran

Dramatic Dogubayazit, set on a stark treeless plain between ranges of craggy mountains, is the last Turkish town on the highway to Iran. The border, 22 miles to the east, helps to define the role that Dogubayazit (Altitude 6400 feet, population 36,000) plays in life, as does the striking 18th-century Ishak Pasha Palace 3 miles to the east.

You may be here to gaze upon legendary Mount Ararat, or the giant meteor crater 2.5 miles west of the border, or Eski Beyazit, the foundations of a settlement thought to date from Urartian times (800 BC).

To put Turkey into perspective, Istanbul is 939 miles from Doguybayazit!

Famous in the Bible as the final resting-place of Noah's Ark, Mount Ararat has been wreathed in legends for millennia. Its two peaks, Great Ararat (16,854 feet) and Little Ararat (12,779 feet) were revered by the people of ancient Urartu (13th to 7th centuries BC), who gave their name (Urartu = Ararat) to the mountain. The nearest town to the mountain is Dogubayazit.
When permits are granted for climbs up the mountain, the treks depart from this town. The Sumerian Epic of Gilgamesh (c. 2000 BC) describes a great flood, as does the later record of Berossus (3rd century BC), and of course the Bible (Genesis and Gospels) and the Kur'an. In the story, a flood lasting 40 days and nights wipes out all living things except those in a boat or ark built, on orders of God, to survive The Deluge. In the ark are male and female representatives of each species, including Noah, his wife and family. Recent marine archeological research in the chill, deep waters of the Black Sea has revealed sunken cities on the underwater slopes along the Turkish coast. Geological evidence supports the theory that in ancient times the northern end of the Bosphorus was blocked by earth and rock. Were there characters like Noah who saw the flood coming and built boats to survive? We may never know. Posted by Blog Assistant.

Erzincan - Turkey

Erzincan is the capital of Erzincan Province in the eastern Anatolian region of Turkey. It is quite close to the city of Erzurum. The city is located at 39° 45' 12" North and 39° 20' 28" East, with an altitude of 1185 meters. The population is 90,100. Its climate produces snowy winters and cool summers. The city is notable for a special cheese called "Tulum Peyniri". It is a significant road and rail junction and was once noted for its silverware. Current industries include sugar refining and textile industries. Erzincan has the largest man-made of Portrait of Atatürk, located north of the city, 176m×43m. It covers 7,500 square metres. Posted by Blog Assistant.

A week in Kaya Campsite, Goreme, Cappadocia

Cappadocia lies in eastern Anatolia, in the centre of what is now Turkey. The relief consists of a high plateau over 1000m in altitude that is pierced by volcanic peaks, with Mount Ericiyes (ancient Argaeus) near Kayseri being the tallest at 3916 m. The boundaries of historical Cappadocia are vague, particularly towards the west. To the south, the Taurus Mountains form the boundary with Cilicia and separate Cappadocia from the Mediterranean Sea. To the west, Cappadocia is bounded by the historical regions of Lycaonia to the southwest, and Galatia to the northwest. After bringing the Persian Empire to an end, Alexander the Great tried to rule the area through one of his military commanders. But Ariarathes, a Persian aristocrat, somehow became king of the Cappadocians. The kingdom of Cappadocia lived in peace until the death of Alexander.

Cappadocia contains several underground cities, largely used by early Christians as hiding places before they became an accepted religion. The Cappadocian Fathers of the 4th century were integral to much of early Christian philosophy.

Posted by Blog Assistant

One Month Progress Report

We have been on the road for just over one month now. I have to say I found the first two weeks driving through Europe really difficult. The driving was a challenge due to the steep camber. Added to that I found it quite hard being unable to help Chrissy with everything she has to do. Put simply, when I’m at home my life is very independent. I’m generally very busy and as a result it makes me forget the limitations that my spinal cord injury imposes on me. Being on the road, living out of small van, seeing jobs that I could have done before my accident (everything from making a cup of tea to sweeping the floor) reminded me what my limitations are. I’m not writing about this to moan. There were some serious plus sides - some of the country side that we have driven through has been absolutely breath taking. As a result I have had to make the conscious decision to not let my spinal injury get in the way of this fantastic experience. This decision and change of attitude has certainly made me focus on the positives and I feel very privileged to be on this journey.

From an observers point of view I think the first month has been very challenging for Chrissy too. We have been getting up really early and initially it took us four ours to get ready in the mornings. Chrissy has now got it down to two hours, which is fantastic. Whilst we’re on the road Chrissy is either: totting up our budget; filming with the camcorder; taking pictures or navigating. When we stop she is either cooking or cleaning something. All of which has meant she has had to forgo a lot of the thing she really wants to do and one of those is to write. That is why she has been unable to add any entries to the blog even though she has been dying to.

I hope I haven’t painted a bleak summary of our first month. On the contrary, although it has not been a relaxing holiday it has been a fantastic experience. In Turkey we have followed the Mediterranean coast for over 1000 miles seeing some fantastic sights and meeting some great people. Although it has been very hot (during one days drive it was over 40 degrees – hot enough to melt the tar on the road) it has been at least a dry heat and the spray from our plant spray has helped me to stay cool. We have had a minor set back when we were scammed but it has probably been a good learning experience to prepare us for the rest of our journey. Having left the coast behind us a few days ago we have headed in land and we have been amazed by the change in the scenery. So much so that whilst Chrissy was busy totting up our budget a heard her saying ‘dam you Turkey for being so beautiful’ as she dropped her pen and picked up her camera to take another picture. We literally haven’t had one hour drive that we wouldn’t do again if we had the chance.

Ahead of us we have Iran and the ‘Stans’, so we are busy preparing for the next few weeks. Also due to the current situation in Kyrgyzstan we’ve started planning what we are going to do, so we’ve written to the FCO and sought advise from in-country tour operators. Finally, thank you to everyone who has made a comment on our blog and sorry I haven’t had time to reply – we certainly have appreciated them.

Posted by Colin

Pictures of: Chrissy at 5am in the morning watching hot air balloons at dawn fly over the valleys in Cappadocia. And of Colin just after getting out of the sweat box during a 38 degree day and being blasted with the water spray, whilst men in a café look on.

Ephesus

We visited the ancient city of Ephesus on the Eastern Mediterranean. The open theatre, library and marble walk way are still in an amazing condition - even after withstanding a earth quake. An excellent day!

Posted by Colin

A Tribute to Atatürk

The more I read about the Macedonian born Mustafa Kemal (mentioned earlier) the more impressed I become. During WW1 the Ottoman Empire had been defeated by the French in the south east Anatolia; the Italians in the west Mediterranean; the Armenians with Russians support in the North and the Greeks occupied Izmir, which meant that Mustafa Kemal emerged as the only successful leader having stalled the progress of the Allied troops during the Gallipoli campaign. In 1920 the Empire was split up by the Treaty of Sevres. Humiliated by the treaty the Turkish retaliated by setting up a nationalist movement, which was lead by the one and only Mustafa Kemal. All of which must have come as a quiet a surprise to the European countries who at the time must have been rubbing their hands together in anticipation of a great feast.

On seeing the country in disarray the Greeks must have imagined that it was their ‘time to eat’ and sent out an army from Izmir with the intention of recreating the Byzantine Empire. Initially the Greeks were successful taking Edirne and Bursa and headed on towards Ankara to defeat the Turks once and for all. After several battles the Turkish apparently savaged the Greeks at Dumlupinar and sent them fleeing in retreat to Izmir and expelled them from Anatolia. In retrospect the invasion was just what Mustafa needed to unite the country and once again he emerged as a national hero. The Treaty of Lausanne in 1923 followed leading to foreign powers leaving and the borders of today’s Republic of Turkey being formed.

Even off the battle field Mustafa Kemal’s leadership was impressive. After years of war the country was in disarray and was very impoverished. However, Kemal apparently had a vision that Turkey could be as great as any modern European country and set about this vision with apparent ‘limitless energy’. As a result he abolished the sultanate and later went on to get rib of Arabic and replacing it with a Latin alphabet that was easier to learn. This process of language reform was all aimed at taking the language back to its authentic roots. Both of these acts must have seemed like very bold moves at the time? One of Kemal’s main aim was to improve the lives of Turkish people and as a result he was given the name Atatürk, which means ‘Father Turk’. During his rein Atatürk went on to modernise Turkey taking on the Gregorian calendar, reforming the language, banning the fez (as it was seen as an image of the Ottoman Empire) and many other things. Another part of his vision was for the country to be a solely Turkish state. However, this denied the Kurds in the southeast any cultural existence (even though many Kurds had fought courageously) and has to this day it has lead to unrest in this region. This vision also meant that many Greeks were displaced in the south west of the country and as a result a few skirmishes with the Greeks have followed.

No doubt the combination of battle and inspirational leadership must have taken their toll because he died at the young age of 57. Atatürk lived up to his vision of modernising and improving the country. As a result the Turkish people still love him and everywhere you go in Turkey you see buildings and streets gratefully named after him and his legacy.

I am far from an expert on Atatürk but from the little I know about him his leadership and vision was inspirational. Looking at the other leaders that surrounded him at that time i.e. Hitler, Mussolini and Stalin his great example of leadership makes him stand out as high as a sunflower in a field of thistles. He highlights how a good leader can make such a difference to a country (I know I can think of more bad leaders than I can good ones). At times he showed great ruthlessness on the battlefield ordering roughly 600 of his men who had run out of ammunition to carry on fighting to the death (according to Annal this move was strategic, allowing enough time for reinforcements to arrive and secure the battle field) but he also showed great forethought and compassion for his people and his opponents. In 1934 he sent this message to the mothers of the Allied soldiers who had died at Gallipoli which is now engraved on a huge plaque in Gallipoli:

‘Those heroes that shed their blood and lost their lives you are now lying in the soil of a friendly country, therefore rest in peace. There is no difference between the Johnnies and the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side here in this country of ours. You the mothers who sent their sons from far away countries wipe away your tears. Your sons are now lying in our bosom and rest in peace. After having lost their lives on this land they have become our sons as well.’ Atatürk, 1934.

What have I taken away from Atatürk’s example? Well I’ve been thinking about that during the many miles we have travelled around this amazing country. Atatürk reminds me that in life one person can strive to make a difference - no matter what we do. All it takes is the right mindset, a good vision, energy and plenty of enthusiasm and I’m going to try to remember his example.

Posted by Colin

Lesson Learnt. We’ve Been Scammed!

After crossing the Dardanelles and having only been on the Asian continent for only few hours we were involved in a scam by three Turkish con artists.

We had just descended down a winding coastal road when out of nowhere a white car driven by a thin Turkish man with a moustache and two women (who turned out to be mother & daughter) started flashing their lights and motioning with their hands that our rear left wheel was wobbling. Seeing the two women and thinking that they didn’t look too dodgy I thought that they must be pretty genuine. As soon as we had pulled over the man was out of his car, strode over to the faulty wheel, cut off the hubcap and started tightening the wheel nuts. He then put his fingers inside the tyre and pulled them out to reveal that he had oil on the tips of his fingers. He indicated that it is a small problem now but in time it would get bigger. In limited English he said with a large grin on his face, ‘Tourist, good!”. Seeing the oil I thought it must be a serious problem and it confirmed in my mind that it must be a genuine fault with the wheel. Chrissy’s perspective was different. She had heard of a scam in Serbia how people pull you over saying that you have something wrong with your car and then they mugg you. Knowing this Chrissy didn’t trust them from the start and tried to block the front door that the mother (who had got out of the car too) was hanging around like a bad smell. When the man asked Chrissy to look under the car she was reluctant to leave as she was still watching the mother like a hawk and thought she might grab our valuables in this moment. Chrissy’s impression of them and their intentions only changed when she looked under the van and saw the oil.

Cutting a long story short. We followed them to a safe place on a flat piece of ground. By the time I had got out of the van he had removed the wheel. He put his fingers on the hub and withdrew them quickly indicating that the metal was very hot and that something must have been jamming against the metal to cause the heat. He removed the hub with tools that he fortunately had in his boot and pulled out the half-shaft. A little later he motioned that the flange and bearing had become loose in the hub and was the cause of the problem. During this time he pointed to the sky saying ‘Allah’ and pointing to the wheel trying to make out how lucky we were that they had seen us. With more gesticulations and pointing to the wheel he made out that if the problem was not fixed now the wheel could sever off. He then drove off in his car saying that he would find us a new part.

Whilst he was away we started talking to the two women. Although the daughter’s English wasn’t fantastic it was still good enough to have a basic conversation. She explained how the man was her uncle and that he was a mechanic. During our conversation she said two strange things. She said, ‘Mum good. Uncle bad’ and ‘brother had been stabbed in the heart and had died’. Her mum tried to ask us if we heard or felt any problem with our wheel and looked surprised when we didn’t?

In half an hour the uncle returned with a new half-shaft, flange and bearing. He made out how he’d been to three different dealers and finally the last one sent a motorbike courier to find one. After fitting it he gesticulated again that it was fixed and that it wouldn’t be a problem anymore. It was only at this point that alarm bells started to wring. He said that the part he replaced cost 500 Turkish Lira and he would take 200 Lira for his time, which equated to 350 Euro! As we didn’t have enough money on us we agreed that they would follow us to an ATM. During this short trip to the bank the following things went through in my mind:

1. When he removed the wheel I saw a large stain of oil at the base of the wheel but the oil had not been splattered all around the inside of wheel - as would be expected as a result of the rotating wheel.
2. It was very convenient he had clippers on him to remove the electric ties that secured the hubcap to the wheel when they first pulled us over.
3. It was even more convenient that he had all his tools on him and the speed that he returned with the new part was also suspect.
4. They had apparently been heading in the other direction so how could they have seen the problem.
5. We hadn’t felt or seen our wheel wobbling and we didn’t actually have a broken part that we could re-examine.

Unfortunately, it was too late and we felt were in a position that we had to pay them. On reflection it was the perfect scam. The Uncle worked so quickly that it didn’t give us an opportunity to question what he was doing and convinced us that there was a genuine problem. The oil on the wheel must have been sprayed on when they first pulled us over and having two women with him too definitely made him less suspect. Chrissy also heard from a German in the campsite we stayed at that night that the same scam had happened to their friends (expats) the previous year, so they must be highly practiced at this devious scam.

We reported the incident to the police, the British Embassy and our travel insurers but they were all unable to do anything to assist us. Although we felt frustrated that we had fallen for the scam we were pleased that they didn’t rob us and no one was hurt. It has also been a great lesson, which prompted us to go through all the ‘worst case scenarios’ we could think of and to make plans of what we will do in case they happen during the rest of our trip. It was an expensive lesson but a valuable experience for the rest of our journey and it will certainly make us more wary of who we trust in the future.

Posted by Colin

Ölüdeniz - South West Turkey

Ölüdeniz is a small resort village in the Mugla Province on the South West coast of Turkey on the Aegean Sea to the south and the high, steep sided Babadag Mountain, 14 km (9 mi) south of Fethiye. The town is a beach resort.

Ölüdeniz remains one of the most photographed beaches on the Mediterranean. It has a secluded sandy bay at the mouth of Ölüdeniz, on a blue lagoon. The lagoon is a national nature reserve and building is strictly prohibited. Ölüdeniz is famous for its shades of turquoise and aquamarine, and is an official blue flag beach, and is frequently rated among the top 5 beaches in the world by travelers and tourism journals alike. The resort is also famous for its paragliding opportunities. It is regarded as one of the best places in the world to paraglide due to its unique panoramic views, and the Babadağ Mountain's exceptional height. Posted by Blog Assistant.

Gallipoli, Turkey

For any historian enthusiast out there you would have thoroughly enjoyed our visit to Gallipoli. For those who don’t know the Gallipoli peninsular juts out into the Mediterranean and it belongs to Turkey, however it is attached to the European continent but separated from the Asia continent by a thin strip of water called the Dardanelles. What the Dardanelles lacks in size it makes up for it in importance. Not only did Alexander the Great ford the stretch of water at its narrowest point (1500m) but essentially it is the only naval trade route from the Mediterranean to the Black Sea, Eastern Europe and Russia. Significantly, it is for this reason that during WW1 Britain wanted to open up a relief route to the European capitals and simultaneously knock the Turks out of the war. It was for this reason why we headed for Gallipoli rather then going to Istanbul. We had been to Istanbul two years ago, so we jumped at the chance at exploring new territory.

Wanting to make the most of our experience we decided to hire a guide. However, by the time we were ready we had missed most of the regular guides. Instead we hired the services of Annal (pronounced An-al) who is a Turkish taxi driver. Now, if God or Allah was handing out characters Annal had to be in the front of the queue. At each site Annal would leap out of his parked yellow taxi stride over to Chrissy’s open window, lean in and start describe the historic events that happened with a strong Turkish accent, spittle flying everywhere and flamboyant arm movements. Poor Chrissy faced the full front of the spittle attack as she was sitting the closest to him but thankfully she made it through this experience too.

Annal’s description of the first attack was very vivid. We were sitting in a car park next to ‘Logistic Harbour’, a natural cove on the East side of the peninsular that would have served a launching pad to support the proposed attack further up the Dardanelles to capture the Ottoman Capital. It was here in March 1915 that First Lord of the Admiralty Winston Churchill organised a Franco-British naval attack. Unfortunately four navy battle ships were sunk by lines of mines strung across the stretch of water and a result thousand of troops died in the attack. Annal described Herbert Asquith's reaction to the failed attack by shouting an angered mimicked voice of Herbert Asquith, ‘You promised me that we’d be drinking English tea in Constantinople by four o’clock the following day’.

As a result of this first failed attack Allied troops were deployed to the East side of the peninsular. They were aiming for a flat sandy beach code named ‘Brighton Beach’ (presumably for similar characteristics), which would have made an ideal landing site. At 4am in the morning the troops set out in row boats heading for Brighton Beach and this is where things started to go wrong and mistakes started to happen. Unaware of the strong current the troops drifted miles off coarse and ended up 2km away in Anzac Cove – a steeped sided cliff with 160 Turkish snipers above them. As the sun rose that morning the Anzac troops realised their mistake and as a result fifty percent of the soldiers died from enemy fire. A second phase attack at ‘Shrapnel Gulley’ pushed the Turks back, which eventually lead to trench warfare at the top of the hill. At points the troops were only separated by eight meters of no-mans land. Whilst we were there we could hear the voices of other visitors hidden in the now pined tree trench areas and it was eerie to think that each side must have been able to hear each other opposing sides voices only meters away. Annal described how both sides fort ferociously with bayonet attacks time after time and described how, ‘Grenades then had an eight second fuse and were tossed between trenches like a hot po-tar-to’. Nine months later with little advancement the Allied forces withdrew. All in all 130,000 soldiers died. One third where Allied troops and the rest where Turkish. Added to this there were over 500,000 casualties – a devastating number.


What went wrong? Annal wonders if the first attack had landed on Brighton Beach as planned the outcome may have been a different story. Added to the initial Allied mistakes the Turkish had thousands of reinforcements. What is more the Turkish were lead by an officer called Mustafa Kemal, who is now a national hero. Kemal guessed the Allied Battle plan although his commanders didn’t. He managed to stall the Allied advancement, whilst fighting in view of his men. The fighting was so ferocious that his whole regiment was wiped out. He even managed to survive a shrapnel wound to the chest thanks to the protection from a pocket watch. His role in the battle ensured he was promoted to General. Later he became Ataturk and was an inspirational leader promoting improved quality of life for the Turkish people.

Whilst we were there we heard many times how this campaign was the last ‘Gentleman’s War’ because both sides showed great respect for each other. There was even a story of a Turkish soldier who on hearing cries for help from a wounded Allied soldier in no-mans land waved a white flag from his trench, walked into no mans land, lifted the wounded soldier in his arms and carried him to the safety of an Allied trench.

Now Gallipoli is a picturesque place with pine forest, fields of sunflowers, olive trees, war cemeteries and importantly lots of visitors. What more can be said about our time here apart from emphasising what is engraved on many headstones and what we learnt by everything that is encapsulated in this quote -‘Gone but not forgotten’.

Posted by Colin