Too right we are.
We are in the harbour of Babakkale, a remote village in Canakkale
Province of Western Turkey. There’s not
a lot here. However, the town council
does go to the trouble of issuing certificates stating that you (insert name)
are at the westernmost point of the Asian continent and standing on the shores
of the Aegean (Ege in Turkish). This was
extremely exciting for us so we pushed the envelope and walked out along the
harbour wall to the western-est point of the breakwater we could find, which is
part way around a bend. (the island of
Bozcaada is more west but is not mainland).
On the dock in Babakkale
As little as this town has to offer in terms of
luxuries, what it does have in spades is that extremely comforting Turkish
hospitality. We arrived here in rising
winds, concerned about the layout and possibilities for secure berthing. As we were manoeuvring around this very
modern but sparse fishing harbour, a chappy with a limp did his best to hurry
over to an alongside spot and motion us to come over. Can’t pass up an opportunity like that so
over we went. He took our lines and we
secured. He wandered away and came back
with his receipt book and told us it was TL30 per day. That’s $15 AUD. Excellent deal and we were good friends
immediately.
We checked out the castle (open 24/7, no locked doors)
and the sad small cemetery below the walls for the mariners from here who have
lost their lives at sea. Wandered about
town a little, scaring the living daylights out of several residents who exited
their houses to the sight of a very large long-haired westerner and a very blonde
pretty lady.
We went for dinner up to the first of 3 hotel
restaurants on the right of the street up from the harbour and had a satisfying meal.
The Octopus
We were convinced by the owner that the octopus was
good. And the Calamari. And the fish.
And the salad. So, being tired,
hungry and glad of a safe haven, we splurged.
The octopus was indeed good.
Grilled, soft and full of flavour.
The squid was imported but still quite nice. The fish were the small red mullet you get all
over here and came from one of the boats we are tied up near. The salad was wonderful. Carol couldn’t resist a small bottle of
Shiraz and I wanted my usual 500ml Efes.
Total was a bit higher than usual, $62, but it was a wonderful meal in
pleasant surroundings overlooking the harbour and over to the Greek island of
Lesbos, some 10 miles away. It was worth
41 years of hard slog, tension, stress and drama to be able to look out from a
place nobody has ever heard of and realise that we could do whatever we wanted
to and go wherever fancy took us, albeit at 5 nautical miles per hour. But it is
the westernmost point of an entire continent and we did feel a little
special standing out on the breakwater. I have contacted a Geocaching friend in
Istanbul and he’s going to put an Earthcache here (a type of Geocache), one in
the Castle and one up in Apollon Smintheon.
The entrance to Babakale Harbour
In the morning, we got on the dolmus to Canakkale. We were told the bus left at 7:50 but we
wandered up at 7:30 to see the brake lights on and the engine running. Off we went through tiny village after tiny
village for the next 2 ½ hours until we got to the Canakkale Otogar. We could have exited earlier but we had no
clue where we were. Then into town and a
wander about this very large city, which is the base for almost all ANZAC tours
and also for tours of Troy. There is even
an ANZAC house hotel/pension.
Our main mission was twofold. 1, check out the marina. Met a very large Turkish marina manager who
said sure, come on up, there’s space. Nice
man. TL1400 for a month’s stay =
AUD$700, or under $180 a week. Walk 50
metres to any number of great seafront restaurants. A good place to visit the battlefields, Troy and maybe the Black Sea coast. We’re in.
Second was to return yet another dead Kindle. Carol kills these things with overuse. I think they are using her as a crash-test
dummy. When she contacted Amazon help,
the dude said it was actually just out of warranty but it would seem that as
she singlehandedly supports half the authors on Kindle’s list, they decided to
replace her out-of-warranty dead one with an upgraded Kindle Touch!! You can tell who’s their favourite girl. We
couldn’t find the UPS office we had to use so we asked in a business if they
knew. The lady thought she knew and then
her husband came out and said that they used to be around here but they moved
over to the airport. He rang them to
confirm it. Then he insisted that we get
in his car and he drove us over to the new location. He is a retired Biology teacher who has
travelled widely in his lifetime and now works for his two sons – they are engineers
and have built a magnificent block of apartments and he sort of runs the office
for them while they are being sold off. Once again, Turkish generosity from every stranger you meet.
Day #3 we got on the Dolmus to Assos. Old, old city. The ruler of Assos liked to have nice things
around so he invited Aristotle to come and stay, and Aristotle did. The city is very high up, which discourages
plunder. We thought the return bus was
due at 6:40 but were not at all sure so we wandered down at 5 just in case. Turns out it arrived at 7:10. We sat in the bus stand with an old Turkish
dude who was convinced we could speak Turkish, so he kept up a conversation
with us. He sat there all the time we
waited but we assume he left when we did.
It’s a fair bet that he wanders down the hill from Assos every day just
to sit in the bus stop to watch all the action.
And there’s action a-plenty at this bus stop. Most cars don’t know where they’re going,
because we’re in the back blocks. So
they stop in the middle of the intersection.
Then a guy with a tractor and a trailer comes along and he has to
stop. He blows his horn, so the lost guy
in the car takes this as an invitation and gets out to go ask the tractor guy,
who must be a local, how to go somewhere.
The old guy in the bus stop finds this endlessly amusing and keeps up
quite a banter about it. He was most
taken with an old lady who was not on the normal bus with the other ladies as she tried to flag down car after car without success. He chuckled away at every attempt.
Next day, we went to the town of Gulpinar, to the site
of Apollon Smintheon, or Apollo, God of Mice (or rats if you prefer). Apollo can save you from the mice or he can
send you a plague of them, depending on the occasion. Homer's Iliad actually begins here in this obscure place - but more of that in a later post. This is a wonderful site, full of interesting
ruins and fruit and nut trees all over, plus green grass and running water. There was a road that has begun to be excavated
that ran 30km from Smintheon to Alexandria Troia. Yes, Troy is just 30km away.
Temple of Apollo, Smintheon, Gulpinar
The Baths, Smintheon
The day after, we went again to Gulpinar to get some
supplies (Babakale is a little light on for shopping) and had lunch in the
Hektor Restaurant. The man who owns this
has spent something like 40 years working on the historic site – it’s a sort of
community effort in Gulpinar – and has old photos of him and his tractor moving
huge marbles and friezes around and off to the museum. He has a superb book on the site, but it’s in
Turkish so we could only look at the pictures.
The Hektor Restaurant with Oral Uysal
Exiting the harbour was easy – no wind and no
swell and off we went to the beautiful holiday island of Bozcaada, where we arrived safe
and sound at around 11am, tied up on the harbour wall and settled in.
On the harbor wall, Bozcaada
Our kind of town
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