Travel Stories - Turkey

It is half past four in the night when the bus stops and we gently push our curtains aside. As always we try to figure out whether we have really arrived at our destination or it’s just a stop to stretch the legs. But in this case there’s no mistaking – a big neon sign on top of the busstation shows us the name “Van” – our destination and the final stop of the bus. The busdriver turns on the bright lights in the bus and shouts the destination again - everyone is summoned to get out. Sleepy and totally without haste we grap our stuff in the bus together and trudge to the door to then keep an eye on our bags because they are of course the first to go out. Fortunately, our bags in the trunk are squeezed between a lot of bags hold together by tape. In the station we repack our bags and I order two cups of coffee to wake up a little bit. Because the bus station and the new city of "Van" are miles away and we are a bit sleepy from the short night we take a dolmus to the center to find a hostel there. We find a "double" for 8 million, which is of course a bargain.

A region that, like "Diyarbakir", has been inhabited for centuries (for sure from the 13th century BC) because it was situated at a very strategic and important crossroad between Mesopotamia, Syria, Persia and Anatolia. Now a typical Kurdish city, once an Armenian city that chose the side of the Russians to establish their own state. We put our stuff in our room, refresh ourselves, take a day bag and walk to the minibus station where dolmuses leave for the biggest attraction of the city - "Akdamar" island. It is about 45 kilometers away. 

Arriving at the banks of the lake we take the ferry to the island - the water in Lake Van, "Van Golu", seems to have many different minerals in it so you’re suppose to put your clothes in and clean them without washing powder or soap. I do not dare. We ripple on the water about 3 kilometers towards the island where the famous "Armenian" church of the Holy Cross rises, which we see from afar. Pete and I walk from the shore of the island upwards to the church. In the 10th century, a former Armenian prince built a palace, a monastery and a church here; of the first two is little left but the church is still standing proudly. The Prince fled to the island because in the 8th century AD. he was threatened by Arab armies coming from the south. The church got a specific brown colour with a flat turret - it looks a bit like Byzantine architecture. The most remarkable are the arches, domes and beautiful Biblical frescoes - we discover "Daniel in the lion's den", "Samson", "Jonah and the wall", "Adam & Eve" and "David & Goliath". The frescoes fade away with the year but it all makes it more mystical. On the island we meet our motorcycle friends (from Kahta) who went here with a small group, in a tour. We talk a bit and decide to meet tonight at our hostel.

Back in "Van", Pete and I decide to have a beer on a terrace. Looking around us we see a fairly modern city while it is already centuries old. Well, I know that during WWI the Armenians who lived here and formed a large group joined an alliance with the Russians to enforce an independent state. And from then on, the Kurds and Turks have regarded the Armenians as traitors. The whole city had a hard time during the heavy fighting in 1915; just before the Russians and Armenians wanted to occupy the city, the fleeing Ottomans destroyed the old city of "Van". The Turks and Kurds have still tried to conquer the city but had to wait until the Russians retreated because of the Russian Revolution. The city we now see has only been built up after the establishment of the Turkish republic and a few kilometers from the site of the old city. The beers taste delicious because it is hot today even though the wind blows here and there - not so strange because we are at almost 1800 meters altitude. 

First we walk back to our hostel hoping to spot another famous white "Van" cat - they seem to have long white muddled hairs and also have a blue and a yellow eye. Unfortunately, we see nothing and still have to hurry to meet the others outside in time. Back on their motorbikes we meet at a a real Turkish restaurant where the guys picked up more Turkish and Western tourists. We have a great typical Turkisch meal at this fancy local restaurant. Then the guys bring our back to our hostel. I sleep wonderfully when I hear it rumbling in the distance; with one eye I hear Pete get up and say something. It does not get through to me very well yet, but he is pretty nervous and reminds me to stand up. But what is going on then? There is an earthquake going on and we need to get out as soon as possible. A few minutes later we are on the street with many other people; there are some aftershocks, but not serious. When we are back in bed an hour later, I realize that these are the first earthquakes I have ever felt. Luckily it didn’t seem very serious.