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.

Day 24: Bursa to Canakkale

Not having had a late night, we woke reasonably early the next day with a plan to do some shopping (having passed numerous markets and factory outlets on our entry to Bursa) before driving the 400 or so kilometres to Canakkale. A little discouraged by the fare to be had at dinner the night before, it was a pleasant surprise to find that breakfast was an absolute smorgasbord of choices between fresh fruit, cereals and yoghurts as well as hot options. 

We ensured to have our fill, and were entertained watching the wide variety of people staying at the hotel breakfast. Turkey is a muslim country, however the hotel seemed to attract a large number of foreign muslim tourist, many of whom appeared to be adhering to muslim rules more strictly than seemed the norm in Turkey. This would explain the women wearing burqas whilst in the women only bath area, and also the eating of breakfast from beneath the veil. If they're closer to their spiritual leader and happy with it, good for them. I'll take my breakfast and bathing more easily!

Getting our money worth at breakfast...

After breakfast we packed quickly and checked out at about 9am. It was a relief to see the car come back with tent intact, after watching it disappear being driven by the valet paring attendant into an underground parking area. With the tyre on top of the tent, I guess that the vehicle is about 2.5m high, and I wasn't sure if the attendant noticed the tyre on top. Before leaving we took a few photos around the hotel, which did certainly look grand amidst lovely green gardens. 

The natural thermal water pool from yesterday. Natural except for the pool chemicals and filtering I guess...

Before the heat of the day arrived in full force, we spent the morning browsing through the streets of central Bursa looking into clothing shops. It was a good deal cheaper than in Istanbul, but with equally as much choice. An ideal choice for finding some more suitable clothing to cope with the Turkish heat and cultural requirements, as well as to find souvenirs and presents for those at home. 

Reluctantly, Gerle agreed around 1pm that it was time to make a move for Canakkale. I'm pretty sure that she would have happily spent all day shopping had there been more time. Anyway, we set off and the exit from Bursa was pretty simple. We travelled on a highway for quite a while, before heading off onto some smaller regional roads. Just prior to leaving the highway, we stopped for fuel. Gerle is a true believer in the energy drink and returned with some sensing I was tired from driving. Bless her concern, but I'm a little worried that too many of these will be the end of me. 

Too much of this stuff will kill you.

After leaving the highway, which I this was due to the GPS taking a shortcut along what it must have thought were more major roads, we entered Turkish countryside properly for the first time in the trip. Around us were many groups of people working in the fields; bent over crops, scything grass by hand, raking and stacking cut grass as well as tending to sheep, goats and cattle. 

We passed through a number of small villages attracting stares from the locals, but didn't stop as we wanted to find somewhere to camp before dark and also go for a swim. Leaving the farmland the road started to twist and turn as it increased in elevation, with natural and plantation forests on either side. Rounding a bend a car was parked and an old man was giving too young guys on a motorbike an earful. We slowed to pass, and then let the old man pass us. Looking back, I don't think that  the two young guys could have cared less about what the old man had to say. I imagine it would have had something to do with riding safely. 

Local traffic

Having fun, just after being scolded by another motorist

Locals between Bursa and Canakkale were outnumbered by Angoras

After peaking at about 1000m above sea level, the road quickly descended down toward the Dardanelles Strait, which we followed south west until we arrived at Canakkale. The drive had actually gone a little more quickly than I had anticipated, and as we had about four hours of daylight left we figured it would be better to organise a ferry across the Dardanelles Strait now, and setup camp on the Gallipoli side so that we better made use of our time tomorrow. 

Having missed the most recent ferry departure by about two minutes, we had about an hour to wait until the next departure. This gave us enough time to quickly walk the streets of downtown Canakkale. Seemingly overrun by Australian tourists (even in what I guess would be the off season), we stopped to get a doner kebab each as a late lunch, and some beers for later on in the evening, hopefully beachside.

Returning to the car just in time to board the ferry, we were lucky not to be late otherwise we would have held up the long queue waiting to embark. The ferry was much larger than expected, but was quickly filled to the brim cars, trucks and buses of both local and foreign registration. I suppose that it is a good shortcut for those travelling from Europe to the western coast of Turkey, avoiding having to navigate through Istanbul and around the Sea of Marmara. 

Onboard the ferry, with an ice cream and cold soft drink in had, we enjoyed the 25 minute ride across the Dardanelles Strait despite the strong sun glare as we tried to admire the scenery. World War 1 memorials were clearly visible in just about all directions, as were more ancient fortifications once used to defend this narrow stretch of water that is the gateway to Istanbul and the Black Sea beyond. 

The view on approach to the coastline leading to Canakkale

Doner Kebap, good for any meal of the day.

Leading from the front.

Kilitbahir Kalesi; one of two fortifications guarding the narrowest point of the Dardenelles Strait.

Across the Dardanelles Strait, from Canakkale to Eceabat

No shortage of customers wanting to avoid a ~500km round trip via Istanbul.

Arriving in Eceabat, we drove the car off the ferry and back onto the European continent. Still needing to get some real food for dinner, we stopped at a small 'corner shop' where everything was to be found. Leaving with fresh bread, fruit, vegetables and cheese we were set for a simple uncooked dinner. Eceabat was far less overrun with tourists than Canakkale and the pace was much slower. The shopkeeper was very friendly, helping us in broken English.  

The western coast of the Gallipoli peninsula was to be explored tomorrow, so we headed in that direction with intentions to either camp at a camping ground if found, or wild camp on the beach. After about 15 minutes driving, and not yet at the beach (on the other side of the peninsula) we came across Kum Camping Hotel. Usually this place only accepts camper vans and rents out caravans and simple bungalows, but they made an exception for us. Toilets, showers and beach access made it ideal. 

After parking the car and before setting up camp, we were quickly down to he beach. On the way we crossed a small stream, complete with a family of ducks and teeming with tortoises. I don't know how the ducks managed to keep their feet when swimming as the tortoises seemed game to bite anything. After feeding this briefly with flowers and grass, we continued to the beach were there were chairs and umbrellas as well as some natural beachfront. The water was calm, and the beach relatively sandy to those that we had previously visited, however only I was keen for a swim. The sun was sinking quickly, and there was a bit of a breeze, so too cold for Gerle. She opted just to get her feet wet paddling near to the shore.

Almost a sandy beach. Sandy, not not the ideal golden / white sandy beach.

A refreshing swim in the Thracian Sea before dinner.

A refreshing ale before dinner.

Magnificent view as the sun set.

Magic!

After swimming about a little, on return to the shore we enjoyed a couple of beers each that we had smuggled down to the water with us, watching until the sunlight disappeared. Before it was too dark, we returned to the car and setup camp via torchlight. A simple dinner of bread, cheese, tomato and cucumber and we were in bed before too long. The kebab from earlier was starting to affect me badly, and I was thankful we were camping at a place with toilets... I was up and down from the tent like a yo-yo until well into the next morning. Dodgy kebabs; destroying intestines the world over since time began!