On to Northeastern Turkey

After tunneling around Cappadocia, Okan and I headed up to Bolu to take in the scenery before traveling to Ankara where we would catch our train. Bolu was pretty but a bit on the conservative side. Okan and I were refused the room we had reserved because we weren't married. No matter that we are just friends, the fact that I have a boyfriend back home. . .and they didn't have another room available. So we hightailed it back to Ankara a little earlier than expected and stayed with Okan's extended family and toured the ethnology museum in Ankara (recommended).

The next day we caught our train to Kars. The journey was to be 26 hours (though it turned out to be 29). I was ecstatic when we got to our sleeping car. It was beautiful, clean, and even had a sink and a small refrigerator. I would curl up with my two books and look out the window occasionally as we crossed mountains and the Euphrates river. I had made sure that the train was non-smoking, so best of all, I was looking forward to escaping the cloud of smoke that is present anywhere Turkish men congregate.

Unfortunately, as I should have learned by now, in Turkey the rules have little to do with reality. As soon as the train set off, our cabin filled with smoke from the adjacent cabins. The conductor explained that he could do nothing, and, in truth, I think he was contributing to the air pollution. We finally managed to get him to unlock the top window so I could at least open it when the air quality reached red; however, it had to be shut immediately upon entering a tunnel lest one get a mouthful of deisel smoke. By the end of the trip Okan was mimicking me rather convincingly, "Close! Open! Oh, horrible, horrible, close, close!" I did fashion an elegant headpiece that, when soaked in tea tree oil, kept the smells at bay. Also works for dirty bathrooms. You may see it in Paris next spring.

When we finally arrived in Kars, I was disappointed to see that that town wasn't as ramshackle and seedy as Orhan Pamuk had painted it in his novel, Snow ("kars" in Turkish). We met up with a Spanish couple the next morning, and they were driving to the thousand-year-old deserted Armenian capital of Ani nearby, so we hitched a ride with them. The ruins were amazing.