(11) To the East of Turkey: Dyarbakir

14 - 16 December 2012, Dyarbakir, Turkey

Barren Landscape on the way to Dyarbakir

From 11 to 14 December I stayed in Bozyazy - a big village between Alania and Mersin on the south shore of Turkey. In this place I was hosted for three nights by a lady with her little daughter.

The morning of Friday 14 December I left Bozyazy and hitched for about 800 kilometres till Dyarbakir, one of the most important cities of the so-called Kurdistan. I decided to go there, as my host in Bozyazy recommended me this city for its distinguishing old town center.

On my way aside Mersin, Adana and Gaziantep I felt that I was yavash yavash moving away from a south-European/Mediterranean place into a out-and-out Middle-East country. The number of women with headscarf increased and some men wore the traditional Arabic headscarf. The music was becoming also more Middle-Eastern than in western Turkey.

One of the gate on the city's wall of Dyarbakir

This sensation was strengthened by the signs that - at the highway near Syria - were written not only in Turkish but also in Arabic. Proximity to Syria was also demonstrated by a refugee camp that was visible just beside the highway.

The idea was to reach Dyarbakir at the end of the same day but it was not possible to travel all the way at once. Especially because in this part of Turkey at five in the afternoon it is completely dark and I do not like to hitch-hike at night.

I had dinner in a restaurant for truckers on the highway with a Kurd truck-driver headed to Iraq who was bringing me for some kilometres. Afterwards, I spent the night on a couch of another restaurant on the highway where he dropped me off.

View from the top of the wall

The following day I woke up in the early morning and continued my way towards destination.

When I left the highway for the county road I realised that the environment was barren - almost desert-like -  and strongly reminded me the one of the war in Iraq, which in facts was nearby.

By approaching the outskirts of the city and seeing a number of residential high rises scattered in the desert without any urban development plan I got an unpleasant feeling of ugliness.

Indeed, despite its undisputed historic heritage, Dyarbakir is not particularly beautiful.

The city's historic patrimony is blended with a widespread social wretchedness surrounded by a mixture of poor modernity and rurality.

Crumbling Buildings just beside the wall (in background)

The city boasts imposing high walls of black basalt forming a circle of about 5 kilometres around the old city. These walls were firstly built in antiquity and then restored and extended by the Roman emperor Constantius in 349. Some claim these walls to be the second longest wall after the Great Wall of China.

These walls are poorly cherished and at some point they run aside crumbling buildings, heaps of rubble and various decaying huts.

However, Dyarbakir - with almost one million inhabitants - is one of the main city in the area and of strategic importance for its geographical position.

The Hearth on the City Wall

Near to Syria, Iraq and Iran, not far from south Russia and facing minor Asia it represents an important link between Turkey and Middle East. For this reason an American-Turkish Pirinçlik Air Force Base - within the NATO framework - was active for 41 years near the city.

Beside that, Dyarbakir has mainly been famous for the terrorism of PKK - the Kurdistan Workers' Party - and for its worldwide-known prison.

The city did not give me the feeling of a tourist city. I did not encounter any tourist and locals do not speak any English and seem to be unaccustomed to foreigners.

Being a tourists-free city had also some significant pros. For example people are genuinely intrigued by foreigners and do not try to scam too much - as it usually happens in tourist places.

I spent one night in the city, and on the evening of Sunday 16 December, I departed by bus for Trabzon, on the Black Sea.

(10) Bye Bye Europe. Arrived in Turkey!

My last day in Athens

5 December 2012, Fethiye, Turkey

After Crete I came back to Athens with Kara.

From there she departed for Canada while I went on with the travel eastward.

On 5 December I left Europe and arrived in Turkey.

The night before a ferryboat brought me in fourteen hours of voyage from Athens to the Greek island of Kos.

Afterwards, another boat navigated from Kos the few remaining kilometres to Bodrum, in Turkey. I did not want to spend the night in this expensive and tourist city, therefore I took a bus to move away from it.

Butterfly Valley (Picture from the Internet)

A participant to the rainbow gathering in Croatia had told me about a beautiful natural and uncontaminated place called Butterfly Valley with a rainbow community living there. This place is near Fethiye and I stopped there hoping to camp a couple of nights.

In order to reach it, an extremely steep slope had to be climbed down. In these days it was raining heavily and so the soil was soaked with water and slippery and I did not want to risk my life. Thus, I renounced to it and stayed in a hostel.

Despite the bad weather, the first impression of Turkey was positive. Turkish people made me feel welcome and warm. In the bus station a man helped me to find my accommodation and arranged for me a free bus to it. Furthermore, in Turkey life is considerably cheaper than in Greece. For example for this hostel I paid 20 Turkish Lira per night (approximatively 8 Euro) with breakfast for a private room.

On the ferry to Turkey

The first night a violent storm blew and caused the electricity to go away. I sat at the table in the makeshift reception and I enjoyed the romanticism of the setting. I wrote on candlelight while hearing the water tickling and with a cat sleeping curled on a cushion on a chair beside.

During the day on the boats my mind had been unclear, as it usually happens when I restart travelling alone after days in a city where I am surrounded by people, things, noises and lights. Worries and doubts about my future buzzed in my head and I could not do much more than let them occupy most of my attention.

A huge quesion mark lied in front of me. What will I do in the following months? Should I keep moving eastward?

Several options were unfolding before me and in these days I could not decide.

After few days where I was stuck there with the rain, I indeed decided to keep moving eastward, direction Antalya.