Talkin turkey!

My head has developed a callous on the side already from the bus window jack hammering against it the past few hours. Looking around this "Sleeper Bus" I can understand why its only insomniac geriatrics on board, and then theres us two sucker tourists. Its a 7 hour bus ride for us from Izmir in Turkey's south to Istanbul in the north, including a stint with the whole bus parking up on a ferry to cross from Asian Turkey to European Turkey, which was about the only time I managed to get in some sleep. Sleeper trains had been great to us so we figured sleeper buses were the same.. haha No. We boarded at 11:30pm in the darkness, and somehow I have pretty much seen every minute tick by. My only real source of entertainment is laughing at our sadistic bus driver and watching Lynda drop things all over the place and have them slide around the bus. I think her backpack just went under the driver's pedals. haha... he's holding onto that one now.

Chios the island was a short lived stop but pretty cool. Our last night in Greece, and it worked out well. We hit a local Greek Nonna's restaurant and had some local specialties- celery/lemon pork and tomato/onion beef stews. After we hit one of the 50 odd subiaco-style local cafe/bars for a drink overlooking the busy island port and then retired back to our 25 EUR room overlooking the same port and cafe strip. While sitting out front of a packed pub, I noticed about 10 worked 4WDs pass by, covered in mud! This is the first time I've seen decent 4WDs here aside from ski regions- it seems the car scene in general is pretty big here too. The guest house was cool- run by a kiwi, it was about the cheapest accommodation we had seen for a while and it was one of the best places we had stayed at too. Everything neat and clean and a kick arse balcony with a view. The only down side was the local bogans have found the perfect pitch note that pierces through windows to wake people in waterfront hotels, and funnily enough its every damn song on "Hit Machine 9, 1995". Each time I got to sleep, I was woken by another hammering 90's dance tune on full treble. At least buy some god damn sub woofers so it doesn't sound like a mobile ring tone through air raid speakers! Actually it gave me a laugh each time I heard Gloria Estefan and Alex Party. Early the next morning it was onto a small ferry for the 1 hour dash across the sea to Cesme in Turkey. The SARS warnings plastered all over the ferry had us wondering, as did the Asian tour group on board that was wearing the disposable face masks...

Our first taste of the Buses in Turkey wasn't the flashest- We had no Turkish Lire, only Euro so I tried to sort that out. I got rolled on the conversion rate by some old grandpa coz I had no idea, but we managed to get on the right bus somehow from our little sleepy coastal town of Cesme to the bigger hub, Izmir and just kicked back having a laugh at every other vehicle on the road being a tractor. The national bus network is pretty cool in that its privatised and the fleet is only a few years old, and on each trip theres a steward that comes through and dishes out drinks and a snack to you. After we got into Izmir station from Cesme, we started shopping around for our next bus ride. Izmir bus station is basically a 4 storey building the size of Perth international airport with about 20 kebab/pide shops, a small shopping centre and all sorts of other shops, the entire second floor is a chain of about 200m of counters- each section about 3m wide for each different bus company. Different mobs do different quality, sizes and locations for buses- sadly for us, there was only one company doing the Canakkle route so we did the 150m walk to them and sorted out tickets for twice the price that the lonely planet said they should have been- gotta love a lack of competition. After a re-introduction to squat toilets and about an hours wait, we were on the bus and heading towards Canakkle with some miniature Turkish kebabs in hand. Turkish kebabs, like other kebabs, involve meat, pita bread and salad. The difference: much gherkin, barely enough lettuce to colour it green, and tomato sauce and mayo. Also, the pita bread is about a foot long so it looks impressive but resembles sweet and sour pork balls from a buffet Chinese shop: You know theres meat in there, but buggered if you can find it in all that dough.

In Canakkale we had nothing booked. It was pretty worrying doing the whole "rock up, wing accommodation, food, entertainment" with no idea of what to expect at all. It turned out pretty well though. After 20 mins of checking hotel and hostel prices we were checked into a cheap place (ANZAC House) and well sorted. They also ran day tours of Galipolli so we signed up for that the next day and crashed out after a $2 AU dinner at a local pizza store followed by some beers with some locals on the Dardanelles foreshore and a walk around town. The surrounds of our hotel made me a bit wary- no lie, every second shop was a second hand mobile phone retailer for 3 blocks radius. I got the distinct impression we were in pick pocket central, but the place is harmless. In between the mobile shops were baklava bakeries with impressive collections and displays, Turkish delight shops and all sorts of boutique stores. The place we had our beers on the foreshore reminded me of Lygon Street- Swanky brightly lit and freshly decorated pubs and cafes with spruikers out front trying to coax you in, and the crowd on the street all well dressed and everyone looking like they were going somewhere. We never spotted any clubs though- just pubs. And a shisha lounge that looked like someone started a bush fire inside it by the amount of smoke.

Galipolli the next day was a pretty moving place. It has been changed a bit over time as they have made it more accessible to tourists and improved the condition of roads, but it could not detract from the ruggedness of the landscape there. We stopped at ANZAC cove and saw the beach the diggers landed on, one mile up from their intended landing, and tried to picture how the hell 15,000 blokes in their gear managed to land on a 60m stretch of thin beach, then scale a near vertical dune to start their assault on a foreign country. To hear the 9 months of struggle summed up and hear some of the stories that came out was pretty powerful stuff. I'm still amazed at the Turkish outlook on the whole situation: Australians came, under orders, to invade. The Turks defended their homeland. Both sides did what they had to do and did it admirably, the fact that they are not hostile in the slightest amazes me. I'd have thought after we caused them 253,000 lives to be lost there would still be a grudge, but no. Having heard stories from both sides, I can understand why it was called "The last Gentleman's war".

In the areas where trench warfare was carried out barely 8m from each side's turf, There is the story the ANZACs lobbed over a can of bouly beef to the Turks- they weren't sure of it, thinking it may have been pork, poison or anything equally as bad, so sent it back with a note in English asking for biscuits- and so it started the a trench trade. At one stage the turks proposed a daily exchange of their tobacco for ANZAC papers for rolling so each day the diggers would go through getting old newspapers to keep the trade alive. On the side they put on puppet shows for each other and tossed each other toys and presents. There were a few moving stories too about ANZAC soldiers lying wounded in no mans land being carried back to ANZAC trenches by turks waving white flags.

After the tour, we headed out for a quick kebab and a few beers with Aldo, the diesel mechanic from Sydney and then got into a doco and the movie Galipolli. I almost pissed myself laughing when seeing the training camp they had in Egypt- The behaviour and language of the Egyptian salesmen doesn't seem to have changed at all in the past 85 years. We also figured out the reason so many Egyptians have bright blue eyes haha... Before too long it was time to head back up the road to the port and board our "Sleeper Bus" to head in towards the nation's largest city: Istanbul.

Sleeper-bus is an oxymoron, and not even a funny one at that. I tried to get to sleep immediately- bad move. Woken up so the steward could offer me a coffee at midnight before getting some sleep. After a little while the lights went out and it was just mind numbing vibration from there until the end, interrupted by a fuel stop for a modest 290 litres of diesel and a couple of toilet breaks at small towns. On arrival into Istanbul we continued the theme of stupid transport choices with a driver that was off his head on speed. 130 in 90 zones, unable to control a clutch and with two settings: go faster and stop! He had no idea where to take us, but we got there in record time after directions from other taxi drivers, hotels and coppers. 5:30am, Istanbul, cold, dark, we have no beds and are falling asleep while standing with our backpacks on. Enter the Orient Hostel! We passed the 1.5 hours in the basement until 7am where we were afforded an early check in and then hit the sack for the night. It was pretty awesome- a warm, comfy bed that we could actually sleep in!