Day 18: Leaving on a jet plane (or two)

Today has been a very long day with very little to report. We bid farewell to Kayseri, which I learned this morning is the ancient place of Caesarea. The luggage is becoming a problem for some in the group but not all. We checked in, moved through to the human hoarding pen and waited to be called for the flight to Istanbul. Finally off in the direction of Rome. Istanbul airport is much bigger, and there are some eateries on the airside of customs, so we took over the food court, grabbed a tea while others grabbed lunch and then we mooched 'til it was flight departure time. Another little delay and it was off to Roma!! That is where the wheels fell off!

Arrived through customs at Rome to realize that I had left the Kobo on the plane and went in search of Chris to see if it could be retrieved which it was… but my news seemed positively second rate in comparison to the 10 or so that had lost their bags, apparently a whole trolley went missing, which, given what we saw of plane stuffing, this was going to be a problem. So some travelers came to the bus without their bags and we journeyed into Rome and to our accommodation to discover that all bags and my book had arrived. On the way in we did a burn past the Colosseum and other significant buildings in and outside of the city walls. So it was off to Mass, but first we needed to enact the Heathcliff and Kathleen scene from Wuthering Heights. Chris woken and rinsed off, made it to greet me in the cloisters and then it was time to have Mass and the dinner before bed.  Roma… finally here!!!

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 and what Chris did....

My jet planes started yesterday when I left Sydney bound for Rome to catch up with Liz and the other pilgrims.

Early morning arrival into Rome. I headed out to meet my driver, organised by Harvest - he had a little English, I had a little Italian, buon journo, hello. Travelling into Rome early on a Sunday morning is great. We had no trouble and made good time. We even went pass the Colosseum on our way into Rome. No problem finding the Domus as I had googled its street view. Only problem was very narrow outside, and buses tear through.




After breakfast (with Lamingtons no less) I caught the train out to Ostia Antica, the ancient Roman port on the Tiber. This was to be my first ruins experience since Liz had had so many over the last three weeks in Greece and Turkey.

Ostia is well preserved, and the printed guide I had downloaded from the internet was useful in seeing the important sites, like the temple precinct, the fish seller's stalls with their mosaic floors of dolphins and Triton, and the amphitheatre which is in excellent condition.

Back in Rome I checked out the entry to the Baths of Diocletian - 1900 years old and full of statuary. Then a short walk back to Domus.

Of course I was exhausted, so I went off to sleep, to have the phone ring to tell me the pilgrims had arrived and it was time for Mass. It was a very special moment to share Mass with Liz again, and to meet up with the pilgrims.

Day 17: We will ROCK you!

Today’s big adventure started very early for some of the younger members of our crew as they set off at 4am for an optional hot air ballooning expedition. We were relieved to see their exuberant faces at breakfast where they entered triumphant having had a fabulous time. The photos of the hundreds of hot air balloons in the air together were a truly amazing sight. 

Our first stop today was the underground city of Kaymakli. This city is built in caves which occur in volcanic ash rock that can be relatively easily hewn. This area is purported to be the underground escape for early Christians to hide the persecutions. It involves tunnels and chiseled stairs with “cave rooms” to the left and right of the path. There was a food storage area, a chapel with a little stone that looked like an ambo, a kitchen, with a large stone with little circular recesses, used for grinding herbs and spices, a ventilation shaft and many other unmarked rooms. Moving through the cave complex was claustrophobic, the corridors only just being wide enough to walk through and so short in places that I had to be bent at 90 degrees to get through them before emerging into somewhat more cavernous areas. This was no place for the fainthearted or the claustrophobic and it certainly gave my legs a workout.

We moved on from the underground city, heading supposedly to a cave church where we were to have Mass. Unfortunately on the way another group beat us to it so we rescheduled the day and headed off to see a pottery workshop and store. For those of you who know how I feel about these scheduled tourist stops, it felt a bit like a pearl factory in Hawaii… but it was really very entertaining. A potter showed us how he hand throws and manually pedals to make a circular jug centre and then Steve had a go at playing master potter. I think I have well increased my personal stash of 'God as potter' pictures. After the demonstration and tour we saw some absolutely exquisite pieces and many in the group bought beautiful pottery and had it shipped home. It was then time for Mass and so just out of the small town of Avanos. We stopped, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. 

A short walk down a path revealed a small cave that had walls decorated with some crosses and other religious symbolism, A little work had been done on the space because there was a sanctuary and there were wooden benches for the congregation, but it was all  quite original and so very simple and beautiful. After the hustle and bustle of the other tourist spots we have been in to in Turkey in recent days, it was lovely to be somewhere spiritual that we had to ourselves. Mass was lovely and the elegant and ancient simplicity of the space made for a very prayerful experience , in spite of the somewhat challenging choice of reading… let’s face it, it wasn’t going to make much difference what spin Sam put on Paul to the Ephesians “wives be obedient to your husbands” it wasn’t going to be good. 

Mass over, it was lunchtime and we went to the tiny tourist area at the foot of the Goreme World Heritage Park to have gozleme. A funny experience really. The menus were placed on the table and then we were told that the only thing we could have was gozleme, and there was no spinach into the bargain. Still it was a yummy lunch and time then for a quick shop before heading up to the Open air museum containing the early monastery churches dating back to the 4^th century and possibly before.

This was fairy chimney country, and again the softish volcanic ash rock made for an ideal material for hewn chapels in the rock. Unfortunately there is no pics of the inside of the building so you will have to imagine the interior, although the internet has helped me a little here! The earliest chapel of St Basil was quite amazing with its fairly monochrome red and unique line sketches and naïve frescos that are badly faded and aged. Still it gives a great idea of the evolution of early Christian art. We went into another couple of chapels, with varying degrees of paintwork. It appears as though the original straight onto the wall paintings had been plastered over and frescoed in places. The most impressive of the chapels is the DARK Chapel. So called because for some time it had been used as a storage area and was locked away, preserving the colorful frescoes of Jesus, Mary the saints and the evangelists. It is a truly amazing piece of art and most of the murals date to about 11^th century. Wow, underground byzantine architecture.

Back to the bus and a final photo opportunity for very weary travelers was at the fairy chimneys that are topped with an igneous outcrops. This has given them their quite distinctive shape, but by this time the group had almost lost the plot and wanted to head back to the hotel to organise the ever growing luggage for our departure from turkey tomorrow. As I pottered around the hotel packing (after getting the wrong laundry back it’s not good!), I realized that there was such an incredible cost in being an early Christian. Today we are so lucky to be living in a free and relative tolerant religious society so different to that of the persecuted ones in the early years. What has it cost me to be a Christian? It cost my forebears so much. I am blessed.

Day 16: Caught in a theological and cultural time warp

Another morning of packing suitcases and leaving hotels. We would bid farewell to Istanbul today, but not before enjoying a beautiful breakfast rainbow and then playing exotic bag stack in the elevator in an an attempt to get all of our bulging suitcases down to the lobby for departure. When you see this stairwell you don't wonder why we needed to stack the lifts. We then spent three and a half hours of sightseeing, caught somewhere between ancient Roman history and the 17^th century, I am talking about our visits to the Hippodrome, Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia  or the Church of Holy Wisdom.

We started with the Hippodrome. Reminiscent of the chariot racing scene in Ben Hur, the Hippodrome was the ancient Roman cultural sporting and political centre. The area which is still a local meeting pace contains three obelisks. The first dates back to ancient Egyptian times even though the granite on it makes it look almost brand new. It was transported to this part of the world from Egypt in about 300 BCE but it took over a hundred years for them to be able to move it into place in the hippodrome. The second monument is greenish copper and is missing the three snake motif from the top, but it is an early 5^th century monument whereas the last obelisk is only dating back from late Byzantine time. They are all very beautiful and the oldest one has a marked base which tells about the chariot races and the development of the blue and green teams and their subsequent development into political divisions in the city.

Adjacent to the Hippodrome is the Blue Mosque or the Sultan Ahmet Mosque. Here we moved forward in history to about the 1700s when this building was created. Lining up at the visitors entrance we took off our shoes. It was like stepping into a beautiful blue haze. The Nicea blue Isnik tile work from which the mosque derives its nickname dominates the interior of the building and the stained glass on the side that faces Mecca is exquisite. The lights hang low in the mosque because originally they were oil and paraffin lamps and needed to be able to be reached from floor level before the days of switches! All the features of a mosque were there, and this mosque has 6 minarets. This is most unusual because most mosques have 2, the sultan’s mosque may usually have 4, but this one has 6 because Istanbul was the centre of Islamic life in the Ottoman Empire when it was built in the 1700s and it was desirable for it to have an extra minaret over the mosque in Medina that has 5 minarets. Shoes refitted we walked across the square and stood in time between the 4^th century and the 17^th century, between the Christian world and the Islamic world as we stood between the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia. Holy Wisdom.  

The building that stands here in the heart of old Istanbul today is the third church to have been built on the place. The first, built by Constantine in the 4^th century was destroyed with little remnant, the second built in the 5^th century is in evidence with its lintel and foundations apparent near the entrance to the present 6^th century Byzantine masterpiece, built by St Justinius in about 7 years. It was the cathedral church of byzantine Christianity until the Ottoman invasion in 1453 when it became used as a mosque. In 1930 Ataturk decreed that this was a building for the world and so today the Hagia Sophia is a museum which tells an amazing story of the genesis of Christianity and the power of Muslim influence over time. It is a huge overwhelming outstanding building. The outer narthex is bare walled with no remaining evidence of the beautiful frescos and mosaics that covered it. In the inner narthex there is some evidence of the paint work and mosaics with their glistening guilt and glass. Once overstepping the threshold I became engulfed by this enormous worship space. As it was most recently a mosque, and of course because Turkey is a predominantly Muslim country, the most dominant religious embellishment is still Islamic. The discs with the names Allah Mohammed and the 4 righteous Caliphs definitely dominate the space as does the mihrab and minbar. But above all these is the uncovered and restored image of the Virgin mother in amazing mosaic. Restoration on the arches to the side reveals four angels one of which is fairly well restored. To imagine the entire building covered in these beautiful artworks is really mind-blowing. We went to the upper gallery up a very very long ramp and from the top the perspective was even better as we walked around the gallery and saw mosaic pieces and could look down and get a different perspective on the hugeness of the space and an understanding of infant Christianity emerging from persecution to grandeur in the world as represented in basilica architecture. Two significant pieces of the basilica really caught my attention. The best preserve mosaic is at the entrance to the inner narthex and features Christ in the centre with Justinius and Constantine on either side of the Saviour. The other feature was the baptistery that is found in an ante courtyard. Apparently, it is a vessel of marble that could have been able to be free standing, unlike the earlier ones we had seen that were hewn from rock and lined with marble. What an experience that was. 

It was time to head to the airport and undertake the exotic dance that is group check-in. I think the staff had a heart attack when they saw all our bags, as we Aussies don’t travel light! The flight was smooth and only took an hour and we had arrived in the mountains of Kayseri, with their snowcapped peaks. About an hour from the airport is our hotel, in the middle of a high rise semi deserted town in the middle of nowhere, our stay for the night. Mass at tables in the conference room made for an interesting experience and the Cardinal’s homily on the nature of Christ and belief was an interesting juxtaposition to the Holy wisdom we had experienced today at Hagia Sophia. And so to bed at the end of another day of sensory overload. What a blessing this pilgrimage is.

Day 15: It’s Istanbul … not Constantinople…. How bazaar!

Sleep was deep and restful after such a big couple of days and today’s program was not any less packed. Our first stop to share Eucharist which eminence celebrated at the Church of St Peter and St Paul, a short but very steep walk from our hotel. This tiny catholic community numbers only about 30 parishioners and is run by a Franciscan. He spoke to us with the Cardinal translating from the Italian to lament the disintegration of the Catholic presence in Turkey with a massive decline in numbers overall from somewhere in the vicinity of 40000 to 4000 in the last 50 years. Mass was beautiful as was the church with its gilt icons and the enthusiasm of the parish priest in the face of such incredible adversity was quite inspirational. Mass over we headed off towards the  ferry wharf for a cruise on the Bosphorous. Some of us, self included, were feeling a little reluctant after our previous “cruise” experience, but this one was just fine. We cruised downstream to the meeting of the seas and then turned back around and sailed back towards Istanbul.

 I was struck by the diversity of architecture in the city, of the dominance of the landscape in the inner city by the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia, not to mention Topkapi Palace, and the ostentatious private river transport that was docked along the waterfront. There are two large suspension bridges spanning the watercourse, and these bridges literally link 2 continents, as this is the join between Europe and Asia and I think that symbolically that says a good deal about the place that modern Turkey finds herself in... suspended in some ways between east and west.


I spent the outward trip on the upper deck but as the wind became unbearable it was easier to enjoy the return journey from the covered downstairs deck. While on the top level I took the liberty of trying Turkish Apple tea. Yum!

After the cruise we went to inspect the Basilica Cistern. On the way it was funny hearing some in the group asking about cisterns as if this were a toilet. The Basilica cistern is one of many underground water storage facilities that provided water for the city of Constantinople from roman times. Built sometime in the 500s CE it had evidence of recycled stone materials, as there was an interesting column from a pagan temple and two large pillar bases featuring the head of Medusa, one turned on its side and one upside down. It was a cool wet place, but an amazing indication of the architecture of the time and it rightly lives up to its name as Basilica cistern because with all the arches and columns it does look like a Roman basilica.

Topkapi Palace was our next stop after a quick Turkish kebab for lunch, followed up by some Turkish delight. Yum!! This was the home of the Ottoman sultans from the fall of Constantinople. It was a massive property with magnificent buildings and beautiful gardens. On display was a collection of jewelry including a huge diamond of about 80karat. The most intriguing place for me was the relics room. It was decked out in original Iznik blue tiles and contained bizarre dead bits of saints such as the arm of John the disciple. There was also some of the works of the prophet Mohammed and some old garments dating to the 15^th century. In the final room an Imam was chanting passages from the Qur’an. It was a very interesting experience.

And then the stop that many on the pilgrimage had been waiting for… the Grand Bazaar!!! Shopping!! Some in the group were very adventurous and bought leather jackets and beautiful jewelry, whereas I stayed safe with scarves and a coupe of trinkets. It was a lot of fun but quite overwhelming as the sellers tried all sorts of flattery to get you to buy their goods.





Dinner was at the hotel on the 10^th floor and this time we watched a beautiful Istanbul sunset and the twilight lights of the city reflected off the harbour. This was indeed a million dollar view. Unfortunately the special dinner that was prepared for us tonight featured 3 different kinds of fish, two with heads intact and the smell and the taste were overwhelmingly stomach turning. I am led to believe that it was a very special Turkish delicacy... struggling a bit, but the first course of broccoli soup and the company and hilarity on the table more than made up for the fish. And so another day on pilgrimage ends. 

Day 14: At the going down of the sun, and in the morning…

And how true is the title of today’s blog entry, because just after the sun went down on April 24 the pilgrims made their way onto the coach for the short drive to Canakale to board the ferry for the other side of the Dardanelles and the short drive to Anzac Cove, the venue for the Dawn Service. There was great excitement and anticipation in the group as well as some terminal tiredness which would only get worse. Aret was worried about how long it would take us to get a car ferry as sometimes the bus has to wait for about an hour, but we literally drove straight on and then they closed the ferry gates and off we went so it was a reasonably early arrival for the Michelin men and women with all our layers on to keep warm in the wee small hours.

After passing the first checkpoint in the bus it was time to walk to the site, about 1.5km along the hills half way up the cove. There were a huge number of people already in the site and I thought that my bracelet number of 3514 was a good indicator of the number there already. Being official guests of the Australia Government, compliments of us being in the party of the Cardinal who was a dignitary, meant that we were seated in block A1. No question that these seats were fabulous . Not 10 metres away the waters of Anzac Cove were gently lapping the coastline as each wave broke gently and softly in the eerie predawn stillness. They were tiered stadium seating not unlike the Edinburgh tattoo or Dawn service in Canberra.

As we had almost 3 hours before the service would begin we watched the pre-show entertainment, an interesting documentary on NZ casualties in WWII, an Australian documentary and some children who won awards giving their speeches. We then went for a walk to discover a whole mini Turkish suburb out back, selling souvenirs, mountains of Turkish food and hot chocolate, the latter of which was irresistible in the cold crisp morning air. In the hour immediately before the ceremony, the temperature dropped dramatically, as it is always coldest just before the dawn. Bone chilling and it added to the atmosphere.

At 5am the official party arrived and the ceremony was underway soon after. There was a reading of the names of many of the victims who died in the Gallipoli campaign… the youngest victim being a14 year old boy. It just blows you mind really. Their faces as they scrolled on the screen made me realize the enormity of loss of life of the youth of our country and caused me to think about those special young men who I know who are currently serving in our defence forces.  As all this was happening the beach and shoreline was floodlit with an eerie blue light and the outline of the mountains could barely be seen in the pre-dawn light while the water continued to lap hypnotically on the shore. I was shaken from this hypnotic reflection by the mournful wailing lament sung by two Maori women.


 

The dawn service progressed much as any dawn service does, readings, prayer, a couple of reflections and the last post and reveille. At the first sound of the bugle the tears rolled down my cheeks: for so many years ANZAC Day has been a part of my story and now, in this place, I was moved to tears beyond words. With each passing minute, the sharp hills came clearer and clearer in to view and the water showed sparkling on the shore. Flags flew at half mast and then, when the service concluded and the official party departed, it was as though the cove sprung into life. The reverence and silence gave way to a burst of energy as the young people clambered down and over the monument snapping photos on the shrine and along the beach. As security was lessened following the service you could access the beach and it was fabulous to take a brief stroll along shoreline, placing fingers in the icy waters and contemplating the feelings and thoughts that would have been in the minds of those young men as they landed 97 years before.

We pilgrims started collecting our things and having our photos before moving on. We all gave the Cardinal a cheer and a wave as he left the arena and then, some of our crew discovered that the closest porta-loo to where we were had been the PM’s toilet, reserved before the ceremony for the official guests. The photographic evidence shows the need for a Bayan… no Bay allowed.

It was then time for the trek to Lone Pine.

Lone Pine is a 3.4km hike from Anzac Cove. The first 1.8km is flat tar sealed road and then it is straight up the side of the mountain on dirt and stones. The sun was now high in the sky and it was quite hot. Of course we needed to shed the layers that had kept us warm in the pre-dawn chill. It was a long way up that hill. The course is peppered with grave sites and monuments. One of the most moving is the verse from Ataturk …

“Those heroes that shed their blood and lost their lives. You are now living in the soil of a friendly country therefore rest in peace. There is no difference between the Johnnies and the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side here in this country of ours. You, the mothers, who sent their sons from faraway countries wipe away your tears; your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land they have become our sons as well.”
 

Arriving at the top of the hill at Lone Pine we jumped the queue with our official guest passes and we found our way to A1 seating. The atmosphere here was so totally different to what we had experienced at the cove. The master of Ceremonies was doing something more akin to the start of a football match as he was getting everyone to cheer based on what part of Australia we came from. The Queenslanders gave we NSWelshpersons a run for our money. The Oz Army band were playing songs, some a little up tempo and some more reflective like “The prayer” and “You raise me up” accompanied by the Brisbane school kids who had sung at the cove. The area was fairly free to wander around and so we could walk and see the graves with the Lone Pine towering over them. I have a soft spot for the Lone Pine having been connected with the trees that were planted in schools and it was a fabulous thing to see the tree. It is not actually the original, but it is a near relative of the tree that was obliterated during the shelling on the site.

At 9am the official party started to arrive and Julia Gillard went on a walkabout right up into the stand where we were sitting. Jo and Deirdre managed to even get a photo with her. Then, with all of the officials seated, the ceremony began, with the same pomp and precision of the Anzac Cove ceremony. The crowd which had been so exuberant minutes before was silent and reverent. Many wreaths were laid and the last post and reveille rang out once more.

We were very fortunate to have the bus pick us up from the Lone Pine site to save us the 3km walk to Chinuk Bair, as by this time the sun was really blazing. The bus got within about 200m of the Chinuk Bair site and then the road was blocked. This is the site of the NZ monument and there was a ceremony here. It is also the site of the Turkish memorial and statue of Ataturk that was visible from our hotel at sunset two days earlier. WE managed to find the Cardinal who had been released from his official party duties for the day and started the very long drive to Istanbul.

There was not a sound on the bus for quite a while, both for the fact that people were processing their experiences of the morning and also because terminal exhaustion had kicked in after being awake for in excess of 30 hours. It was truly sleepy time. A roadside restaurant provided us with a very pleasant three course dinner late in the afternoon and then we continued on the road to our hotel in Istanbul.

Istanbul is the largest city in Turkey with a population that appears to be counted somewhere between 6 and 13 million. The traffic jam was certainly extreme and the skyline was more like I had expected to find in a Muslim county with mosques dotting the landscape at every turn. It was a lovely boutique hotel. Because we had been unable to have Mass at Anzac cove due to the numbers of people and security at the sites, we had Mass in the hotel basement, again listening to the call to prayer from the local mosque. The cardinal reflected his thoughts that he had shared earlier that day with SMH journalists, that only a country with deeply  spiritual roots could find dignity and hope in a story of defeat. His words were poignant. As dinner had been had on the road it was time for a drink up on the 10^th floor, looking out over the lights of Istanbul.

It had been a truly amazing day. The experience of seeing the war cemeteries did not quite have the same impact as it had had on me on the western front; there, they were silent and there was only our small group of 8 at most of the sites. Here, there was little time for silent recollection as thousands of Aussies and Kiwis literally swarmed all over the monuments and grave sites. That was the down side. However the memories of the silence and the emerging dawn on the 97^th anniversary of that fateful day that gave birth to a national legend and identity will remain etched in my mind forever. Lest we forget!

Day 13: If these stones could speak… Alexandria Troas, Assos and Troy

Early morning slumber this morning was punctuated by squeals and screams as fellow pilgrims Steve, Amy and Emma braved the cold waters of the Dardanelles for an early morning dip. As the average sea temperature in Turkey in April is only 10 degrees C, I imagine it was very cold. Putting my hand in later was cold enough. Up, and off to a very interesting breakfast of cucumbers, olives and tomatoes with cheese and bread. The only cereal in site was something that vaguely resembled cocopops, and the tea… hmmmm well the less said about that the better. Thank heavens for bottled water on the bus, which we boarded after a quick pilgrim wi fi fix, destination Alexandria Troas.

There was very little to actually see at this site after we had wound down a very narrow windy road, escorted by motor cycling security, in fact of all the sites we had visited it looked the most limited, except for some very beautiful poppies and daisy field flowers scattered everywhere through the ruins. This had been the place that Paul had “escaped” to after he caused such a stir in Ephesus and was imprisoned. It was high up on an escarpment overlooking the sea…pretty but??? 

As this was the venue for Mass we literally joined the ants and pulled up a hunk of rock for the celebration. Sam’s preaching today on sonship was a bit of a struggle for the feminist consciousness in the congregation, but it did not spoil the beautiful outdoor celebration shared with the local wildlife, all of God’s creation especially the ants and the bees. After Mass, Aret gave us a rundown on the town and I have to say our initial understated response took on a whole new meaning. This had been a settlement founded in 3^rd century BCE in honour of Alexander the Great. It was a flourishing city, bigger than Ephesus and the spot where we had Mass was actually the temple to the goddess Athena. Apparently this ancient city also fell into disrepair and disuse due to a receding harbour, discovered as a result of most recent archaeological findings, although earlier tales had said that it may have been an earthquake. Estimates say that if they managed to excavate the entire site that it would take over 1000 years and it would reach all the way down to the ocean. At one stage Aret placed a leaf from the ground on one of the excavated carvings and the leaf pattern matched the live leaf exactly. Makes the artisans pretty amazing and says something about the lack of speed of evolution I guess. So all in all  it is a very impressive historical excavation and one which we were fortunate enough to experience on our own.

Our second stop, via a very strange Bay Bayan at a Turkish bathhouse, was Assos. We looked up toward the acropolis of Assos and saw the remnants of a temple, again to the goddess Athena. The route to the acropolis was lined with tiny village shops with shopkeepers plying their trade in handknitted scarves and the like. It had a very authentic country feel. The hill was an enormous gradient, covered in very uneven cobblestones and there was the option to catch a ride to the top or to walk. I owned the fact that it would not have been kind to my knees and ankles and caught a ride up to the top. So glad I did - the ankle is really struggling today. At the top the vista was amazing. Unfortunately overcast had fallen a little and we could not see as far as we had hoped, but I understand why the ancients built temples to the Gods in these places and I also understand why this may have been a pivotal point in Paul’s journey. Acts record that he was to meet Luke here, and rather than going by sea he went by road… some road!

The final stop of the day was at Troja otherwise known as Troy... home of the Trojan horse and Helen of Troy. There is not a great deal of evidence exposed at the site, but what is exposed indicated that the settlement in the area dates back to 3000BCE. Amazing. Now the whole Trojan Horse thing is probably a total exaggeration, perhaps the stuff of myth, but it was certainly fun watching people climbing into it and having a photoshoot. What was fantastic was the evidence of the 9 different layers of troy, corresponding to effectively 9 different cities and the carbon dating that has been undertaken to determine the ages of the various levels.

It had been another long day and as we snoozed lightly on the way back to the hotel for dinner, we knew that there would be no crashing into bed tonight. Bags needed to be down stairs at 9.30 for a 10.30pm departure. Destination ANZAC COVE, but more about that tomorrow.

Day 12: On the road again. Kusadasi to Canakale via Izmir and Pergamon

The day dawned in shades of pink across the crystal blue waters of Kusadasi. It was an early start after a late night of chatting to family and blogging, but on the road again we were, this time to Izmir, formerly known as Smyrna, and Pergamon now known as Bergama. Our first stop was to be the Church of St Polycarp in Smyrna. Polycarp was a 2^nd century bishop who was martyred for his faith. Unfortunately the church of St Polycarp appeared to be closed and even Eminence’s considerable influence could not budge the woman in charge! So it was around the corner, almost literally to the Santa Maria da Giorgio Church to have Mass. Now in a Muslim country, what are the chances of their being another catholic church literally around the corner. It was a lovely church, featuring extensive mosaic work on the sanctuary and side walls. After Mass it was off again for an hour or so to a roadside Bay Bayan stop where we encountered yet another bus load of Australian tourists. 

Next stop Pergamum, one of the seven churches of Revelation where we saw the Red Basilica or the Red Hall or even the Red Temple, which is actually one in the same thing.  This site is somewhere where the early church of Pergamum was established, but the site that we saw was actually an Egyptian temple, probably to the god Isis. It was appropriated in the 5^th Century as a Christian church, but it is poor repair. A wander around the site revealed interesting remnants from Jewish and Muslim burial places with tombstones featuring Hebrew text, and turbans to indicate male Muslims. On the hillside above the basilica was evidence of fortifications, amphitheatre and another marble temple. It was an interesting site but not much to look at after the overwhelming stimulation of Ephesus yesterday. 

Back on the road for a very very long drive to Canakale… over 4 hours in total. The countryside is interesting in that it reflects very traditional practice and suggests a rather impoverished community in comparison to the commercial hubbub of the cities with their factory outlets. We saw a tractor heading along the road with dad on the tractor, mum holding on behind and 3 kids sitting on top of the hay bales in the trailer out back. We also drove though rolling hills, dotted with mosques and small farm houses and shepherds wandering along the roadside with stick in hand, herding their sheep. There was also a lot of sleeping to be done. Not long before we arrived Aret suggested that we stop at a supermarket.. you should have seen the busload of retail deprived Aussies jump at the opportunity to stock up on snacks for our long day at Gallipoli on Wednesday. It was like walking into a Walmart, except that we couldn’t tell where anything was because we couldn’t read the signs. Maybe we looked like contestants on the amazing race as we bolted around the place looking for tissues and muesli bars. 

Then on the outskirts of Canakale we drove down a hill with water on the left side of the bus and Aret told us that we were looking across the Dardanelles toward Gallipoli. I got goose bumps at the thought.. and then we arrived in a tiny settlement just outside the town where our hotel is located to discover that we have a waterfront location on the Dardanelles, looking at the hills of Gallipoli. Wow!  Steve, Paul, Anne, Joe Dermott and I went for a walk and found an army base. Heading beyond that we came across a monument to a Turkish ship that was sunk by mines in the strait on March 18 1915… so real! Watching the sun set and the red sky at dinner was beautiful and then the moon and Jupiter rose and against a dusk blue sky. I cannot wait until the dawn Service on Wednesday. Sorry there is not more in the way of pictures tonight... internet is impossibly slow. ;)