Turkey Feb 2007

Eastern Turkey Feb 2007

Photos -
http://picasaweb.google.com/MSherrin/EasternTurkey2007#

Have had an excellent time on the first 2 weeks of my eastern turkey, caucuses and iran (hopefully) trip. Highlights so far have been old armenian church on a little island in Lake Van and the most wonderful friendly people. Not seen another western tourist - I seem to be the only person mad enough to think a trip like this is a good idea.

Georgia is truly one of the strangest countries I have ever visited. But I should start from the start.

I am supposed to be in Iran but the saga with that ever elusive visa continues so in some new hope of getting my Iranian visa I headed to Dogubuyazit in eastern Turkey where my new found friend Zafer, the travel agent, runs a sideline in getting visas, for a price, for people who have failed through the usual channels and need a 'tour' to be arranged so a visa can be obtained. But I hold no real hope.

Dogubuyazit is about 35k from the Iranian border and the region is a significant place in terms of biblical history, Armenian history and Kurdish separatism. It's a real frontier town, complete with many soldiers, tanks, frequent ID card or passport control checks, a thriving black market and is completely un-Turkish. I should add that it's winter over here and everything is covered in snow and ice and it's f**ing cold.

Mt Ararat rises up over the town and it is spectacular. The place where some believe Noahs Ark came to rest was worth a visit - the actual site is covered in about 6 foot of snow but still very interesting. Over the years Dogubuyazit has been controlled by the persians, armenians and the russians and the old capital has certainly seen better days. I've attached some photos above of the old seat of the capital - Ishak Pasa Palace (1685) and the other sights.

Public transport is a bit thin on the ground so I hired a car and driver (Ibrihim) to get around. The guidebook says that soccer is the Turkish national obsession - but nah it's not, it's petrol prices. A litre is 3 lira - about $2.70 (imagine the outcry in Aust if petrol was that expensive... it'd be the end of little johnny). Over the border in Iran it's about 9cents - so yep there is a fair bit of smuggling going on.


Ibri (as he likes to be called) takes me to a"cheap cheap iranian benzine" place in Dogu where it is only 2 lira. As we go around the region he takes me to places where the price is as low as 1lira - he seemed to have some network of cousins who know where to find the cheap petrol - "miss, miss it is kurdish benzine and we are kurds so it is our benzine". Not sure about the accuracy - but anyway.

Unsuprisingly there are many, many abandoned petrol stations in the region and a fair proportion of the Jandarma are involved in trying to stop the flow of cheap petrol - surprise road blocks where if you have an extra container of fuel you are fined (or shot) etc etc. Just before the roadblocks you see a whole bunch of trucks pulled up with their drivers furtively trying to put their "spare" fuel either back into their truck or sell it to passers by - this all seems to happen just away from the view of authorities and is the the subject of much amusement to Ibri and all the other drivers that he meets on the way. I asked Ibri who was making all the profits from the smuggled petrol - "oh miss there are many people, many people we must pay bribes to".

But it ain't all good petrol....on my last night in Dogu, Zafar and his friend, with an unpronounceable name which sounded something like issi, take me out of town for fine kurdish dining (mutton chops and salad) and on our way back the car dies. So picture this, it's pitch black, we are way out of town, the roads are covered in snow or thick, greasy ice and the wind chill factor was right up there. These 2 guys have no idea how to get this car going - Zafar manages to flood the engine. We try to push start the car - Issi and I are pushing the car, slipping over on the ice and laughing at poor Zafar who is mortified that his female guest is pushing the car. The car kinda starts does some bunny hops and dies again - repeat above steps for 1k or so. By this time Zafar is swearing in some strange strangled sounding langauge and screaming that the "iranian benzine is corrupt" and then over pulls a very fancy car with two well dressed kurdish men - I think spiffs is the best way to descibe them - they looked like mafia guys. They try to fix car - fail - so that's 4 men standing around an engine making hmming noises and not knowing what they are doing. I am wet, from falling over about a dozen times on the ice, almost frozen and trying not to laugh at this absurd situation. The new guys put me in their car and drive me back to my hotel, (leaving Zafar and issi to deal with their car), these two don't seem to speak a word of english but insist on feeding me corn chips and some strange pickled celery - bizarre mob the Kurds - always trying to either feed you or give you a cup of tea.

The next day I quiz Zafar about them - and yup the guys were the local mafia and control the flow of iranian benzine. How cool - never thought I'd meet real mafiosa types or that i'd meet them in Turkey.

Enough of that. The sights of eastern Turkey are awesome - the area has only just opened up to tourism and I was the only tourist around. Highlights included some bloody old armenian orthodox churches - the area is all old Armenia, a bunch of very cool Seljuk castles and so much snow.

One arvo we got cut-off from Dogu by a blizzard - had a challenging time finding a hotel that Ibri thought would be OK for me to stay in because there was no way that we were getting over the mountain back to Dogu. Ibri and Zafar had the whole network of cousins ringing in on mobile phones trying to work out what the hell they were going to do with me and where they could possibly find an OK hotel out in the rather rough wilds of the area - I tried to explain that I was not fussy but to no avail. I think the main problem was that most hotels are brothels for the iranian truck drivers. All was fine though - it always is.....

On hotels, at some point remind me to tell you about Frank, the rat, and the lack of heating that brought us together one chilly evening.

From Dogu I headed to Trabzon. Nice enough city on the Black Sea - but has some problems with ultra right wing nationalism and soccer violence. Trabzon is where the Catholic priest was murdered last year and where the killers of the pro Armenian journo who was recently shot down are from. So it has issues. But the people I met while getting hopelessly lost about 3 times (stupid lonely planet map) were very friendly - insisting on personally escorting me to whatever I was trying to find and insisting on feeding me or giving me tea.

Next stop Georgia......