Day 26: Ayvalik to Kuşadası

Waking up with the hot sun hitting the tent the next morning, after showering and collecting our washing that had all but dried, we returned to the camp restaurant where we had dined the previous night to see what was on offer for breakfast. Not open until 8.30, we waited patiently again simply watching the activity on the water until the buffet was open. It was worth the wait, with fruits, breads, eggs, pastries, yoghurts, cheeses and a variety of other Turkish treats to choose from. 

Though it was hard to leave such a beautiful setting, we dutifully pulled the tent down and were on the road by about 9.30am. Our destination for the evening was planned to be in a national park just south of the tourist town of Kuşadası, and we were to visit Izmir, Ephesus and Kuşadası en route. 

Wildly underestimating how large and busy Izmir would be, the planned stop became much quicker than anticipated due to the sheer business of the traffic, difficulty to park and really lack of anywhere central from which we could gain an appreciation of the place. After making a quick trip to a pharmacy, having by luck seemingly found a park in the 'chemist district', I opted to continue driving without an elongated stop if only to escape the hustle and bustle. It was worse than both Istanbul and Bursa!

By mid day we were thus at Ephesus, an ancient city ruled at various times by the Greek, Roman, Byzantine and Turkish empires. An important centre with regard to the development of Christianity, it has been a melting pot for Paganism, Christianity and Muslim religions. Arriving into the car park, it was immediately apparent that this place is a major tourist attraction; despite the near 40 degree heat, the car park was full of cars and buses and not much shade was to be had around the perimeter. Luckily we found a place as someone was leaving that afforded some protection from the sun. 

Momentarily after stepping out of the car, we were greeted by some friendly locals touting horse carriage rides to see the attractions. Not usually one to be interested in such a thing, I was convinced immediately when I was informed that it was a four kilometre round trip on foot, uphill and downhill, or a 2 km downhill walk if we were to take the ride to the top. I forget the price, but think that I would have paid almost anything given the heat and that I knew Gerle was likely to expire if we were not careful!

Jumping into the back of the carriage, we were soon on our way bouncing over a rocky track around the back side of the slope that Ephesus sits upon. We passed through mostly orchards growing peaches and nectarines, but also some apples and plums, disappointed that all this juicy fruit was only just beyond arms reach from the moving carriage. On the way we stopped at the 'Cave of Seven Sleepers' in which a miracle purportedly occurred in the 5th Century AD. 

Supposedly, seven young men sought refuge in the cave in a period when Christians were being persecuted, and after their persecutors closed the entrance to the cave were trapped for several months. Somehow, without food or water, they survived until they were accidentally uncovered by a shepherd and emerged surprised to find that the region was now accepting of Christianity. From this point onward, particularly from the 5th to 15th Centuries, the site became a centre for Christian pilgrimages with a cemetery and basilica established inside. 

Giddy-up, our short cut to the top gate.

Entry to the Cave of Seven Sleepers

Above the Cave of Seven Sleepers, looking into the Basilica from above.

Looking back to the modern day city of Selçuk from the Cave of Seven Sleepers

Arrived at the top; horses sweaty, passengers not.

Arriving at the top gate, shortly after buying our tickets were were offered a personal guide service. Truth be told, in hindsight I wish I had taken up the offer of this. The Ephesus site is enormous, and there is limited signage and information within explaining what you are looking at. Saying no to the guide service, we persevered with a tourist guide book and the signage that was available in English. 

Walking down the hill, we first stopped to marvel at ruins of the ancient baths and a basilica, before stopping to look within the Theatre. It was easy to image how it would have looked in its time of glory, with sail roof, seats full of people and the colour and atmosphere that might once have been. 

It's always good in places like these to at least know what you're looking at... in this case a site of baths.

Performing in the Theatre

The Theatre, much smaller than the 44,000 seat Grand Theatre which somehow we missed!

Some welcome respite within the internal staircase of the Theatre.

The internal staircases provided shade and cool breezes, and after lingering a while we continued down the slope. Passing through the Heracles Gate, we made our way down toward the Celsus Library to marvel at the ornate stonework and statues upon the facade that remains.   

Sitting in the shade underneath the Celsus Library, we watched the throngs of tourists passing by whilst we cooled down and regained some strength. The sun felt exceptionally strong today, easily the hottest day that we had experienced on holiday thus far. That it was reflecting off all the bare stonework around us only made it more difficult to tolerate. 

Looking up the hill from the Heracles Gate.

Trying hard not to break a sweat!

Gerle beneath a wall representing the entrance to the Library of Celsus

After we had regained our composure in the shade, we continued down the hill walking along the Marble Street, and for some reason missed the Grand Theatre. Whether it was the heat or the glare, neither of us noticed the 44,000 seat theatre to our right! Like I said before, this amongst several other things, would not have been missed had we taken the guide, or had it been 20 degrees cooler. Hopefully we will be able to return another time to tour this site properly, there is much still to be seen that we were too haggard to notice and / or persevere with. 

Reaching the car again, it was like an oven... so after five minutes with the doors open we tried again to get inside, this time with success. A few minutes driving with the windows down, then air conditioning and we were back more or less to normal internal temperatures (and I was no longer leaking like a sieve). Water, water, water... not enough could be had.

Kuşadası was only about 20 km away at this point, and we arrived there in short time. Parking near to the main seaside promenade, we stopped into an outdoor cafe with cool breezes blowing for a late lunch and some cold drinks. Nothing too special, but not too cheap either. Not exactly sure how far away the National Park was, nor exactly too sure on how to get there, we were back in the car and on our way again by about 5pm. 

The promenade at Kuşadası

This goes some way to explain the number of men holding hands in the street!

Stopping after seeing some water canisters sitting outside a shop we were driving past (we still needed to pick up some water vessels for camping) we stumbled into a locals only market devoid of tourists. Prices were well down on what we'd been seeing, and we wandered around a bit before getting some food for dinner. What we had seen from the road were not water containers, but agricultural chemical containers, full of chemicals... thus we opted for bottled water in the interim. 

Thirty minutes or so later, we were about to head into the National Park when we were stopped at the entrance and told that the Park was now closed for visitors until morning... I suppose that wild camping was not going to be allowed inside anyway, given this situation.

Not to worry; we had just passed two camping sites literally about 500m back down the road from where we had just came. The first looked dodgy, the second dodgier but only in the fact that we weren't sure if it were still in business. Nevertheless we dropped in, and were pleased that the man who greeted us was happy to have us camp though he spoke no English.

Perhaps he didn't advertise, or perhaps he didn't actually run a camping business any more, but the place was deserted albeit the property was in tip top condition. The bathroom amenities were basic but suitable, and there was beachfront access. Shady trees and beautifully manicured lawns were laid out beneath shady and fruit bearing trees. The man was having a BBQ with his friends, so we setup camp at the other end of the garden, and after a beer headed down to the beach. This time the water was a little rougher, scaring Gerle off from swimming, but I had a paddle whilst she watched from the shore.

With the sun setting, we returned to the campground to have dinner, a few more beers and then settle down for a good night's rest... and then the local blue light disco started cranking out the tunes at full noise, but we managed to rest at least before the music died down at about 12am. This was the safest and most secure camping site that we had found thus far, and both tired and comfortable slept easily whilst the sea breeze passed through the tent.

Camp setup early, before heading for the beach

Peaceful camping... no neighbours.

We were the only campers present, and it was only the owner and his friends for company.

Day 25: Canakkale to Ayvalik

Waking early with the sunrise after a shitty (pardon the pun) nights sleep, the frequent bathroom breaks continued as we slowly packed up camp and had breakfast whilst the temperature climbed rapidly. Once we had finished the fruit and veg that we had purchased the night before and the tent was closed up, we departed to tour some of the monuments and memorials to the Gallipoli campaign.

Heading toward Anzac Cove (Anzak Koyu) which was not too distant, we started to pass by numerous cemeteries containing many thousands of those that fell during the eight month long battle.  Stopping at 'Shrapnel Valley' cemetery, a few hundred metres short of 'Hell's Spit' which forms the southern boundary of Anzac Cove, we walked amongst the graves. The sombreness of the situation etched into both our consciousnesses as we marvelled at the the quantity and impact of the loss of life, reading the inscriptions left by the families of the fallen. 

That so many men, and so many boys, lost their lives in this cause amidst so much hardship really bit deep into my thinking. Having read a substantial amount of the history of WW1 and Gallipoli in particular, it was still a very powerful feeling to sit quietly and imagine the scenes of the day. Hardship hardly goes any way to describing how things must have been, even without the fighting. 

Beyond the 'Shrapnel Valley' cemetery was a track leading toward 'Plugges Plateau' which overlooked Anzac Cove. This site was captured early in the campaign and named after a New Zealand infantry officer. The crest is about 100m above the beaches, and it formed part of a strategic inner defensive line for the landing site. Beneath it, on the seaward slope, was located the headquarters of the Australian and New Zealand Armed Corps (ANZAC). Here too was a cemetery, with the graves of twelve Australian, eight New Zealand and one unidentified soldier. 

Anzac Cove from Plugges Plateau; so much irony in the beauty of it today.

Heading down from Plugges Plateau, we continued by car to Anzac Cove itself where a memorial site is located. A site of a reasonable amount of controversy between the modern Australian and Turkish governments since it was officially recognised as by the Turkish Government as 'Anzac Cove', there have been concerns about the roadwork, treatment of unmarked and discovered graves and rowdy Australian tourists on 'pilgrimages'. 

I am glad that I was able to visit without hordes of Australians 'on tour'. That people can wear t-shirts and jerseys with slogans like 'ANZAC Tour 2010: Sydney to Gallipoli' tends to indicate a failure to understand the place, as does the footage of drunken Aussies belting out 'Aussie, Aussie, Aussie...'.

The serenity surrounding us at the cemeteries and other memorial monuments only served to heighten the sense of 'why?'. This place should not only be important for Australians, British, New Zealand, French, Turkish and German people, it should be a place of recognition for all people about how war is such a terrible waste of humanity. 

Gerle learned a lot more about Gallipoli, ANZAC and WW1 here than she had previously been exposed to, and the innocence of her questions about the battle and war really highlighted just how stupid the world can be at times. Lest we forget; I will be continuing the ANZAC traditions and my donations to help ensure that this is the case.

Simple. Not much needs to be said. 

A monument on the harbour front at Eceabat. 

By mid afternoon we had finished looking through various monuments to Gallipoli. I could have spent longer here, particularly looking through the various museums, but we needed to continue toward Ayvalik which was our next destination. I expect that I will return at least once to Gallipoli at some point in the future... I'm not a pilgrim, but it is a very important place in Australian history.

Driving back to Eceabat, we were lucky in arriving just in time for a return ferry to Canakkale. We were one of the last vehicles on, and the voyage seemed to go a lot faster than the original one across. Very hot and thirsty from our time on foot walking around the beachside scrub, we were glad to catch the breeze from the ferry movement in the shade of a mid deck whilst downing some cold drinks. 

Back on the ferry, heading toward Canakkale.

Once in Canakkale, we didn't stop driving having tired of the tourist nature of the place in the hour prior to our departure yesterday. Instead, we dialled in the town of Ayvalik into the GPS, and were on our way. It was only about 150 km to where we were going at this point, but with roadworks for almost the entire way it ended up taking about three and a half hours to get there. 

We weren't actually staying in the town of Ayvalik itself, but we were planning to stay at either a camping resort or wild camp on the peninsula sticking out into the Aegean slightly north of Ayvalik. On first arrival, it seemed that the peninsula would be swarming with Turkish tourists, but as we headed further out the land was actually entirely covered with forest and with only limited beach access from private driveways. Luckily, the camping place that we had seen online did exist and was quite reasonable; finding beachside wild camping may have been impossible.

Through the owner was somewhat smug and quirky, we did agree to stay and after parking the car headed for a swim. The sun was still fairly high in the sky, but it was late enough that the temperature had gone down a few degrees and the strength of the sun had lessened such that sun cream was not needed. The beach was not sandy either, but a few metres in from the shore and there were not too many rocks and a muddy type of sand which was not uncomfortable underfoot. 

The water here was a bit cooler than we had been swimming in since arriving on holiday, perhaps there had been some rougher seas in recent days. After a lot of coaxing, Gerle was out in the water deep enough to have a paddle about. The cold must have been distracting though, as the swimming lessons of the past few weeks were soon forgotten. 

About us were young kids playing in the sand / mud on the beach, middle aged kids jumping off a pier and older kids and adults swimming out to a pontoon some 300m from the shore. All was good. After the swim, some time snoozing on the chairs under the umbrellas was a great way to dry off and warm up, before showering and changing ready for dinner. 

Little kids digging for China.

Older kids jumping off the pier.

Snoozing under the umbrellas whilst we dried off.

After chaining for dinner, we headed to the campground restaurant that was literally on the water. The peninsula is somewhat sheltered by surrounding shallow water and islands, and there seemed only about 1m elevation difference between the high tide mark and restaurant floor level build out into the sea. Given the great weather of the day, it wasn't a problem for us. 

I had a few beers just watching the comings and goings on the water whilst waiting for Gerle. She wasn't taking long, but there were not many showers to cater for all the residents. We had also organised to have some clothes washed, and after some record breaking pantomiming were pleased when a man with a British accent was summoned to ensure that our communications were deciphered correctly. One load of clothes, one load of towels. The only thing we didn't understand was the price, which came as a rude shock the following day... 

Being on the ocean, fresh fish was the plan for dinner and we were happy that there was a variety of whole fish to be chosen from. Not knowing the species, we chose based on weight (indicated on the menu) and then just shared the two of them between us. With fresh salad, bread, cold beers and local wine to accompany the fish, the meal was as fantastic as the scenery. With not too much to do after dark, and with a big day of site-seeing planned for the following day, we headed to bed not long after dinner.

Deja vu? Beers at sunset.

Looking radiant after swimming, sunning and showering.

It's a tough light, but someone's gotta do it.

Mmm..... fish!

Peaceful water.