MELAS VALLEY______Coffee House Lodgers Day 1&2___Seydisehir-Suleymaniye

Our first campsite

In good spirits despite the cold weather

Holding Beard Pass

Dinner preparations at the old school boarding house

Did I mention about the rain?

As would be expected, the idea came from the mountain man Benoit. Our goal was to reach Manavgat, starting from Seydisehir, following the Melas Canyon route, which according to some was part of the ancient caravan route, or according to others was part of the Roman route Via Sebaste, and was recently marked for trekkers and hadn’t been explored much. Our team was nothing short of the A-Team: our natural leader Benoit;  equipped with GPS and other technologies our head scout Ali; supplies and food manager Asena; mushroom expert Gamze; and natural born tea-man myself. We all met at the bus terminal in Konya, with Ali and Asena arriving from Gokova where they live on a boat, Gamze from Istanbul by bus, and Benoit and I flying in from Istanbul without much sleep after going to a very pleasant concert by Elif Caglar the previous night. After a three hour bus ride to Seydisehir we arrived to the starting point of the trail. We were thinking of taking it easy on the first day but right away found ourselves climbing a steep mountain. After a two hour walk we set up our camp at the first plain we came across. It started raining right as we finished setting up the tents. We took refuge under a large tree, build a fire, and being at the begining of the tour with tons of food to choose from we had bean stew and mushroom chicken with rice for dinner. After some bonfire chatting we retired to our tents and had a deep sleep listening to the free jazz style sounds the raindrops hitting the tent were creating with the rain going nonstop all night.

The next morning after completing our crash course on how to pack your tent the fastest under rain successfully, we had breakfast and hit the road. One of the hardest legs of the whole trail was waiting for us ahead. It was a long leg with a lot of steep uphill climbing and just naming the places we past by was enough to write an epic story: holding beard pass(or was it pulling beard?, don’t ask me, it doesn’t make any sense in turkish neither), no return mountains, and nine detour fields!! Through the fog without getting bored, passing by fountains with jubilance we kept on going and going for it was never ending. Finally we started asking everyone we came across how much we had left until reaching the town. The very first villager we came across told us we had 2-3 km, or about 15-20 min walking distance left. We were overjoyed to find out that we were so close so kept on walking in good spirits. After an hour and a half of walking we decided to ask yet another villager, and the answer we recieved left us in deep suspicion: we had about 2-3 km, or 15-20 minutes of a walk! As we were going to verify it over and over again during the rest of the trip, my dear countrymen had no sense of time or distance, and the answer was always fixed: 15-20 min., 2-3km. Realizing that we weren’t going to be reaching our destination, we decided to swerve away from the route to the closest town and right at that moment three extremely healthy and big shepherd dogs with their stentorian barks in an unfriendly manner started approaching us. Comandante Benoit ordered us all to grab a few rocks and walk in small steps, but the enemy was way too smart and had started surrounding us in all directions already. Of course I got furious and was about to set them straight, but my friends held me back and told me that they’re not worth it. Seeing how formidable I was, and perhaps partly due to the shepherd woman calling them, they left us alone without having a taste of our salty skin. I don’t think I need to write the answer we got from her regarding the distance left to reach the town. Finally arriving at Suleymaniye village, we went straight to the tea house. Along with two or three old man sitting at the tea house we all started sipping our teas including Asena, who got a very stern answer from the owner about not having coffee at the place, and waited for the reeve (reeve: head official in small villages). Once the reeve arrived we told him that we were planning on spending the night at their village and asked him whether or not there was a suitable place for us to stay. Probably because of our shabby looks he took us to the old school building instead of the guest house, which the existence of we found out later. At least the unused housing for the school building had all the amenities we would need. We concluded our second evening after having dinner and drying out our clothes and shoes at the wood stove. 

DIYARBAKIR / Newroz Piroz Be!

Doors in the old city were all very small and colorful, decorated with various designs

Local grey stone used from buildings to tombstones provide a simple but serene aura to places.

Hand-operated whirling swings that were commonplace in Istanbul as well in my childhood.

An old Armenian church turned into a carpet weaving workshop.

Streets decorated with colorful flags for newroz celebrations.

Newroz dresses for sale.

Diyarbakır Ulu Cami (Mosque) is one of the most beautiful in the country. Kids examining the intricate decorations in the courtyard.

The interior is quite modest compared to the courtyard.

Our breakfast with my host Uğur Özdemir: lentil soup with meat stock, lamb tandoori and rice.

Newroz celebration area

Stage built for celebrations with "Free leadership, Free Kurdistan" written on top. The main focus of the speeches was freedom to Ocalan.

The climax of celebrations was lighting up of the newroz fire. 

Watermelon seeds are consumed much like pumpkin or sunflower seeds. 

Little peshmerga

One of the most memorable moments of the trip was listening to dengbej, who sing poems without any enstruments.

When the travel bug in me started itching again I decided to save myself from the embrassment of not seeing one of the most important cities in the country, Diyarbakır, and took a short trip there.  After purchasing the plane ticket I was pleasantly surprised that my visit was going to coincide with the Newroz celebrations. Nowhere else in Turkey you can feel the excitement building up as newroz day approaches as you do in Diyarbakır, which has turned into a day to celebrate the political and ethnical identity for the Kurds of Turkey rather than a new year celebration. To make the most of my limited time in the city and to get into the local culture and life as quickly as possible I decided to stay with a local through couchsurfing site. I found myself in the very heart of all the action as Uğur Özdemir, who accepted my request, turned out to be quite a Kurdish activist himself. 

Inner city (or the old city) is the nicest part of Diyarbakır with its historic feel. Its narrow streets are adorned with colorful markets, historic mosques and churches. Of course not to forget all the grilled liver stalls you will find wherever you look. To follow suit I had grilled liver for breakfast most of the mornings. The use of word “zerzevat”  to define vegetables or salad, which also  means “small, unimportant things” in Turkish, will give you the idea of how little they think of vegetables in the city. As an eastern traditional city in Turkey, Diyarbakır was more modern than I had expected. I was happy to see young woman comfortably and freely walking around in the city late at night. Another surprising thing was seeing how dominant Turkish was in the daily life of this mainly Kurdish populated city. The city was buzzing with everyone coming from both different parts of the county and abroad for newroz celebrations. Unfortunately discussions we had with Uğur, his roommate Feridun and their friends visiting while enjoying some homemade Syriac wine and burma kadayıf dessert of Diyarbakır were not all that optimistic about the future of the region and Turkey from my perspective. Diyarbakır was a completely different world with its own agenda, air, and dreams than the western part of the country only a few hours away. I returned to Istanbul both with the sorrow of seeing us move apart from each other at a fast pace, and with the happiness of recieving great hospitality and making new friends…

ANTAKYA / Itty Bitty Bites To Munch On (Part 2)

Unbelievably delicious tepsi (tray) kebab

Getting our kebab prepared at the butcher

Making of the dough for kunefe

A business owner's just protest against the war in the region

Harbiye, Antakya

Arab Orthodox Christian funeral home / it's a tradition to serve Turkish coffee to the funeral attendees

Caretaker of the funeral home Cathrine

Our feast at Huseyin's home, complete with homemade raki and game

Huseyin's father

Huseyin's mother

Behold infidels, Huseyin is coming!!

Olive trees in winter time

A dessert similar to churros

We started the new day at Uzun Carsi (Long Bazaar). It provided us with the perfect excuse to get hungry again with all the streets full of colors and smells. Our stop this time was Poc Butcher Shop. Butcher shops in Antakya all function as a restaurant at the same with a couple of tables thrown in the back. They either barbeque the meat you buy by the pound, or get it baked at a bakery close by and all there’s left for you is to enjoy the most delicious kebabs, while surrounded by the meats hanging on the hooks around you. We learn another interesting fact about the butchers from our beautiful friend Hüseyin. Meat from any female animal is inedible according to Arab Alawi belief. Therefore all meat in the displays are hung with the testicles still attached and showing due to the large Arab Alawi community living in the city. After finishing off the last bits of one of the most delicious kebabs I had in my life we topped it with the most popular dessert in Antakya “kunefe”,  sold at many shops in the bazaar area. Although, I have to confess that growing up in Istanbul, I’m more used to the fake Istanbul style kunefe and prefer it over the true Antiochian one.  We spent the rest of the day in a recreational suburb area of the city called Harbiye.  After visits to the silk shops and waterfalls, we returned home with nightfall. Since we had stuffed ourselves with kebabs and kunefe during the day we decided to skip dinner, and were about the leave the house with Can to get some wine from the store when the girls decided to come along with us. On our way back from the store after purchasing some wine, Can asked a question he shouldn’t have. The answer to his question of whether we were hungry or not was same as always: “no, but! We could have some itty bitty bites to munch on.” In Antakya all the kebabs, kibbehs,and  kunefes are eaten as snacks, therefore each little munching turns into a big feast. We went to yet another butcher and ordered some of the sac oruk Bambina had been craving for since we got there. Sac oruk is the flat and round version of a kibbeh cooked over a flat hot surface. After finishing our mezes and oruks we headed over to Samandag beach to enjoy our wine. As we drove in circles around a tomb of some muslim saint I don’t know the name of, we found out about another interesting local tradition. It was a tradition to walk around the tombs of saints three times while praying to their soul. But the modern-day believers keeping up with the times fulfill this ritual by driving around the tombs three times with their cars!!

The next day we drove over to Huseyin’s village, this time following the mountain route. After stopping by a Turkmen village to have a picnic with delicious bulgur salad (kısır) made by Sevgi along with some wine, we also visited the one and only remaining fully Armenian village in Turkey, Vakifli, and purchased some home made flower and fruit liqueurs from the villagers. At another village along the way we were hosted at the house of an Arab orthodox christian woman named Catherine, who is the caretaker of the funeral home of the village, and tasted some of her homemade wine, not forgetting to stock up a few bottles before we left. At Huseyin’s home we were welcomed to a feast prepared by his mother. The table was flowing with milk and honey, complete with little birds hunted by Huseyin’s nephews and cooked in our honor. Others decided to skip the birds for some reason, therefore I engorged all three quail-like birds myself. Another special treat at the table was homemade raki (a popular anise seed flavored drink in Turkey) that was accompanying the dishes.  Although illegal, homemade drinks are still very common and popular in Samandag, and they distill raki either from raisins or figs and flavor it with anise seeds. After a good night’s sleep at the village surrounded by green mountains we spent the next day first visiting a monastary dedicated to famous stylite Simeon, then not to bring the wrath of Muslim saints over us we also visited a local muslim shrine and walked around it three times as for the custom, and later wandered in the orchards and gardens.  When we returned to Can’s house in the evening, Antakya style marinated sea bass was waiting for us. Even though I like my fish plain grilled usually, we thoroughly enjoyed the sea bass marinated in a lightly spiced tomato and pepper paste. After dinner we were invited to Can’s brother’s house, who had been living in Northern Syrian town of Latakia until recently. After terrorism erupted in Syria they had to move to Antakya with his wife of Syrian origin. Even though we had just gone for a cup of tea visit, his wife Abir with her warm smile had prepared a table full of food, we had no choice but to munch on itty bitty bites…

We spent our last day in town by walking the streets, shopping for cheese, spices and such, and enjoying last drinks with friends. Of course we purchased a bottle of “medicine” for Gamze to overcome her flight anxiety, and headed to airport while sipping the medicine on the way…

ANTAKYA / Itty Bitty Bites To Munch On (Part 1)

A delicious Antakya breakfast prepared by Can

Arched streets of Antakya

Just two of the many beautiful doors found in Antakya

One city suffering the most from Taksim protests of last year was Antakya as many of the young man killed were natives of that city.

A street corner where one of the killings took place is marked in their memory

Street where Ahmet Atakan was murdered

A church bell and mosque minaret are in the same frame, one of the most famous frames of Antakya

Famous Haytali dessert at Affan Coffee House

Staples of Antakya cuisine: Mashed broad beans, hummus, salted yogurt, muhammara

Interesting window frames and Bambina

Coffee is consumed in tea glasses in Antakya and called "suvari"

We arrived in Antakya (ancient time Antioch), which is the best place to walk around with just a t-shirt on in February while having orgasmic culinary experiences, after a decision made during yet another happy hour beer. Saying is easy, but getting there was actually a little harder, because my travel mate Gamze (a.k.a. Bambina) had developed a flight phobia lately. But as one should never forget, there’s a solution to every problem, and it was something called Cointreau in this case. After a bottle of it, there wasn’t the slightest trace of any phobia left at Bambina, who had taken off herself before the plane did itself. She was so relaxed and casual about it that she decided to have a smoke in between the ten feet walking distance from the shuttle bus to the steps leading up to the plane. As she striked her lighter and lit her cigarette all the cabin and ground crew rushed towards her. After a much enjoyed drag, she put off her cigarette carefully with her foot, without blowing up the plane, and we ascended into the plane under the grumps and head shakes of 138 passengers and crew in disapproval. We arrived in Antakya and met our beautiful friends Can and Sevgi after a flight full of emotional eruptions and chatter. Even though we weren’t that hungry we wanted to utilize every moment we were there to savor the famous culinary offerings of the city, therefore stopped at Abdo Doner for itty bitty bites to munch on. We were way over the clouds still to really appreciate the taste of anything, but at least we had a start to our four day eating marathon,and  then headed home for a rest.

We woke up to a grand breakfast table prepared for us by our beautiful and talented friend Can. After devouring the food with the eagerness of an animal stocking up before hibernating for the winter, we went downtown to explore the city. Perhaps “exploring the city” is far stretch of a claim, because after our short walk to downtown we immediately had a quick food stop to regain the calories we had burned during the walk. Saray Street is the equivalent of Istiklal Ave. in Istanbul, the center for shopping, eating and drinking. Towards the end of the street we found a place overlooking the serene courtyard of an Orthodox church to have some meze and beer. Even though hummus and mashed broad beans are dishes still consumed in large amounts in the area, there’re only two old fashion shops selling it by the pound left in the city, I advise you to stop by them before they close down as well. After visiting the Catholic church where Can and Sevgi had their wedding photos taken, and also Habib-i Neccar Mosque, which is believed to be the oldest mosque in Anatolia (Asia Minor)(current building is dating from a later period) we stopped by another historic shop, Affan Coffee House, to have a taste of their famous dessert called Haytali. We ended the day sipping our drinks and listening to Blues music at Cabaret Bar, which is located in a renovated traditional Antioch house.