Ankara is not a city to fall in love with
at first sight. Our first sight was a long, hot, dusty, hilly trudge through
streets full of litter, most of it a carpet of tout cards for escort and
massage services. Apart from a couple of grandiose banks, the architecture was
soviet-style brutal concrete blocks, softened only by their crumbling edges. It
was the end of Ramazan holiday, so most shops and cafes had their shutters up
and the people milling around looked hot and listless, especially the women in
their scarves and long gabardine raincoats. Back at the hotel we checked out
what there was to do in Ankara and hoped that we could tolerate it for three
days while waiting for the Friday train to Kars.
Fortunately, it got better. Next day we
purchased a metro card which greatly improved the transport options, then
headed to downtown Ulus, the old historic centre. Here a Hittite/ Roman/
Byzantine/ Seljuk castle sits at the highest point, presiding over the densely
built-up surrounding hills and offering the most appealing perspective on
Turkey’s capital. The streaks of graffiti on its walls were almost compensated
for by a man playing traditional music in the courtyard, which did contribute
some atmosphere to the scene. The old town itself is a pleasure to wander
through, with restored Ottoman buildings now housing small shops and
traditional crafts along with some more upmarket stores.
Ankara Vista from the Castle
This chappy was very good.
We went to the main museum as usual and
this one – the Museum of Anatolian Civilizations – is a beauty, with artefacts
cherry-picked from all over Turkey. The building itself is a lovely restored
Ottoman market and the collection is organised as a walk-through time tunnel,
beginning with the fossil record (Turkey’s own early hominid, Ankarapithecus) and progressing through
the Paleolithic, Bronze, Assyrian, Greek, Roman, Phrygian, Ottoman and
Republican ages. For an Australian tourist in these parts, there is a constant
sense of just how lived-in every place is, often by entire civilizations that
you’ve never even heard of. And with this comes a sense of just how fragile and
temporary even the greatest cultures can be – loot a few temples, burn a few
libraries, assassinate a few leaders and it’s all but over; just a pile of
stones, an olive tree and a herd of goats to mark the spot where a great
philosopher taught, an artist crafted something beautiful or an engineer
planned a complex water system. The highlight of the museum is the collection
of artefacts from the Gordion burial mounds, which include the presumed remains
of King Midas, along with remarkably well-preserved metalwork and furniture.
Another museum is worth a visit here – the
private Industrial museum of Rahmi Koc, once again in a beautifully restored
Ottoman building. This quirky museum has collections of trains, cars, motors, tools,
toys, instruments, pharmaceuticals, old photographs, Ataturk memorabilia,
cameras and film paraphernalia, diving gear and lots more, all well presented
and with helpful labelling.
Ceramic piece in the industrial museum
On our last day we decided to take an
evening stroll to Ataturk’s Mausoleum before an evening rendezvous with a group
of Ankara’s Geocachers at a local bar. The Mausoleum is an impressive sight,
visible for miles at the top of a wooded hill and lit up after dark. There is a
museum of Ataturk’s possessions (including his dog) and a photographic record
of his funeral. The collection of documents is testimony to the man’s enormous
energy and vision in establishing the modern Turkish state – it’s no surprise
that virtually every business, home and even vehicle in Turkey has a portrait
of Ataturk or a copy of his famous signature in pride of place. We had expected
the tomb itself to be a place of utmost respect – like Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum
in Hanoi, where the pilgrims file silently past with bowed heads, many of them
in tears – but here people were chatting and taking photos, even the Turkish
tourists. Oh well. Apparently Ataturk himself never wanted a mausoleum anyway.
Behind me is almost every Lonely Planet ever published.
We walked on through leafy suburbs to the Varuna Gezgin Café del Mundo, a splendid
bar/ café with about four levels including a rooftop, an international
collection of beers, and every corner decorated with fascinating stuff from the
proprietor’s many years of world travel. Terry was in heaven, especially after
a dry few days in Ankara city. We enjoyed meeting the local geocachers: once
again it’s proven a great way to get off the beaten track and see a different
aspect of a place.
Café De Mundo
Then early on Friday morning we headed for
the station, discovering on the way that the tunnel under the highway and
railway had been bricked up and it was a very long walk around – fortunately an
enterprising taxi driver had discovered this too and was busy making a killing
on five lira trips back and forth to the station. We were there in plenty of
time, and settled comfortably into our sleeper car for the 26 hour journey east
across Turkey to Kars on the Armenian border.
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