After a 3 hour bus ride, we arrived in Konya.
Well, we arrived somewhere.
Konya is a religious city, Turkey's equivalent of the Bible Belt according to our guidebook. It's the hometown of the whirling dervishes, which are a religious group despite the entertainment they provide. We were warned in Cappadocia that, for this reason, Konya is a dry city.
Judging by the titty bars our bus was passing, this was not Konya.
Our bus drove through a neighborhood so shady it put the worst parts of southeast DC to shame. We stopped in front of a warehouse. And that's when things got really weird.
The driver exited the bus. The guy serving the drinks told everyone to stay put (not one of the 10 people on this bus spoke English, our first clue that Konya is not a big tourist destination, but the emphatic gestures made the point clear).
Then he opened a small panel by the stairs down to the back door of the bus. And a man climbed out.
Who the heck was this guy? And where had he been all this time? In the cargo hold? What the eff was going on?
The cargo hold was opened and everyone started unloading what looked like huge gas cans and taking them into the warehouse. This continued for about 30 minutes, including the argument that broke out between the warehouse guy and the random cargo hold guy.
When the random guy from under the bus came back on, we pieced together our limited Turkish to ask what was in the containers. He put his thumb to his mouth, pinky in the air, and tipped his hand towards his mouth three times. Ummm....alcohol? Did we just smuggle alcohol into a dry city? Aww, our first criminal activity as a married couple. How sweet.
Finally we left the creepy warehouse and drove another 10 minutes to the otogar. We needed to book our tickets from Konya to Antalya, and find a local bus to get us to the hotel that Hottie at the hotel in Göreme had booked for us when he found out we had no reservations (he seemed quite panicked about our lack of plan).
The only problem was no one in the entire otogar seemed to speak English. We only know five words of Turkish! Most of which have to do with food! We are so screwed.
We pick out a young group of guys and figure our odds are better with young people. We ask one if he speaks English. He stares at us, uncomprehending. What followed was the most elaborate game of charades to ever take place in a bus station. Or possibly anywhere.
We finally get the point across that we want to go to Antalya tomorrow, and preferably buy the tickets from someone who speaks English. He escorts us to company after company, translating our needs to the various vendors who helpfully suggest other companies to try. Finally we land on one who speaks English and learn that between that company and the one next to it, there is a bus every hour. Ok, so we'll wait and buy our tickets tomorrow.
Now where might we find the dolmuş (local bus, basically) to the center of town? Nice young helpful guy (I assume he had a name but damn if I know what it was) leads us outside, across the parking lot, across the street, and to a random spot along the side of the road. There is no sign for a bus stop. There is no indication at all that a bus will be coming there.
But we wait. And he waits with us. Wearing nothing but a track suit. Did I mention it was freezing cold outside?
He jumps around, trying to stay warm, until he spots the dolmuş coming. He flags it down, asks the driver if he's going our way, tells him what hotel we're going to, and puts us and our bags on the bus. He smiles and waves as we drive away.
Well that was either insanely helpful, or we've just been kidnapped.
We realize we don't know at what stop we need to get off the bus or how to get to our hotel from there. We try to ask the driver. He just gestures for us to stay put. We had no idea where this might lead. Then the bus stops, and the driver points. We were right in front of our hotel. Well that was easy.
At this point it's past midnight and we're exhausted. We stumble to our hotel room only to discover there's no heat, no hot water, and it reeks of smoke. (Everyone in Turkey smokes. One guy in Istanbul estimated it's 90% of the population. If I ever get lung cancer, it may very well be from traveling in Turkey. Just sayin.)
We slept in our clothes that night to avoid making the pajamas we still had to sleep in for the rest of the trip smell as badly as the bed linens. It was freezing cold, yet we couldn't pull the covers all the way up without gagging. Fun times.
Suddenly, I awoke with a start. Someone was being murdered outside our window! No...wait...a cat was being murdered outside our window! Wait...a cat in heat? Ohhhh...it's 5am. It's the call to prayer. Man those guys can really wail.
Did you know that there is not a single spot in Turkey that isn't within earshot of a mosque? Neither did we! But we quickly found out, as we woke up every single morning to the sounds of the call to prayer. We eventually got semi-used to it. But the only thing it made me want to pray for was more sleep.
Now a little word about the traditional Turkish breakfast. It's included in the price at most hotels, but don't expect anything elaborate. Or good. It consists primarily of bread, cheese, and olives. Is this breakfast or cocktail hour?
Anyway, moving on.
We spent our morning at the Mevlana museum. This was the former lodge of the whirling dervishes, and is named after (and devoted to) the most beloved and respected mystic philosopher in the Islam world. It was gorgeous, but overrun with hordes of people. We were approaching a religious holiday, of course, so it made sense that people would be visiting such a religious site. But they didn't take to kindly to foreigners getting in their way. So it was a pretty rushed tour, but it was ok because it was primarily a mausoleum. Lots and lots of dead people. And a random box containing a lock of hair from Mohammed's beard. That for some reason smells like roses. Creeepy.
By the time we finished, it was 11:30. Hey, if we hurry, we can catch the noon bus and not have to wait until 1! We sprinted for the main road. We spotted a dolmuş and hailed it like a taxi. So that's how that works!
It was the slowest bus in the history of buses. The driver slowed down for every single pedestrian we passed. None of whom were trying to catch the bus. We watched out the window as cars flew past us, and kept an eye on our watches as our half hour window quickly closed. When we pulled up at the otogar, is was 2 minutes past 12. And these buses are usually nothing if not punctual.
Hubby was resigned to waiting another hour at the otogar, but I was not giving up so easily. I wanted out of Konya asap. The place just had a weird vibe. So we ran. Have you ever tried to run as fast as you can while wearing a giant backpack that weighs as much as you do? Yeah it's not fun. BUT...we made the bus.
Hells yeah. We'd get to Antalya by 5, much earlier than we'd expected, grab a rental car and get to Çıralı with plenty of time to hike up to the Chimaera before bed.
Oh, if only things had actually happened that way...
Well, we arrived somewhere.
Konya is a religious city, Turkey's equivalent of the Bible Belt according to our guidebook. It's the hometown of the whirling dervishes, which are a religious group despite the entertainment they provide. We were warned in Cappadocia that, for this reason, Konya is a dry city.
Judging by the titty bars our bus was passing, this was not Konya.
Our bus drove through a neighborhood so shady it put the worst parts of southeast DC to shame. We stopped in front of a warehouse. And that's when things got really weird.
The driver exited the bus. The guy serving the drinks told everyone to stay put (not one of the 10 people on this bus spoke English, our first clue that Konya is not a big tourist destination, but the emphatic gestures made the point clear).
Then he opened a small panel by the stairs down to the back door of the bus. And a man climbed out.
Who the heck was this guy? And where had he been all this time? In the cargo hold? What the eff was going on?
The cargo hold was opened and everyone started unloading what looked like huge gas cans and taking them into the warehouse. This continued for about 30 minutes, including the argument that broke out between the warehouse guy and the random cargo hold guy.
When the random guy from under the bus came back on, we pieced together our limited Turkish to ask what was in the containers. He put his thumb to his mouth, pinky in the air, and tipped his hand towards his mouth three times. Ummm....alcohol? Did we just smuggle alcohol into a dry city? Aww, our first criminal activity as a married couple. How sweet.
Finally we left the creepy warehouse and drove another 10 minutes to the otogar. We needed to book our tickets from Konya to Antalya, and find a local bus to get us to the hotel that Hottie at the hotel in Göreme had booked for us when he found out we had no reservations (he seemed quite panicked about our lack of plan).
The only problem was no one in the entire otogar seemed to speak English. We only know five words of Turkish! Most of which have to do with food! We are so screwed.
We pick out a young group of guys and figure our odds are better with young people. We ask one if he speaks English. He stares at us, uncomprehending. What followed was the most elaborate game of charades to ever take place in a bus station. Or possibly anywhere.
We finally get the point across that we want to go to Antalya tomorrow, and preferably buy the tickets from someone who speaks English. He escorts us to company after company, translating our needs to the various vendors who helpfully suggest other companies to try. Finally we land on one who speaks English and learn that between that company and the one next to it, there is a bus every hour. Ok, so we'll wait and buy our tickets tomorrow.
Now where might we find the dolmuş (local bus, basically) to the center of town? Nice young helpful guy (I assume he had a name but damn if I know what it was) leads us outside, across the parking lot, across the street, and to a random spot along the side of the road. There is no sign for a bus stop. There is no indication at all that a bus will be coming there.
But we wait. And he waits with us. Wearing nothing but a track suit. Did I mention it was freezing cold outside?
He jumps around, trying to stay warm, until he spots the dolmuş coming. He flags it down, asks the driver if he's going our way, tells him what hotel we're going to, and puts us and our bags on the bus. He smiles and waves as we drive away.
Well that was either insanely helpful, or we've just been kidnapped.
We realize we don't know at what stop we need to get off the bus or how to get to our hotel from there. We try to ask the driver. He just gestures for us to stay put. We had no idea where this might lead. Then the bus stops, and the driver points. We were right in front of our hotel. Well that was easy.
At this point it's past midnight and we're exhausted. We stumble to our hotel room only to discover there's no heat, no hot water, and it reeks of smoke. (Everyone in Turkey smokes. One guy in Istanbul estimated it's 90% of the population. If I ever get lung cancer, it may very well be from traveling in Turkey. Just sayin.)
We slept in our clothes that night to avoid making the pajamas we still had to sleep in for the rest of the trip smell as badly as the bed linens. It was freezing cold, yet we couldn't pull the covers all the way up without gagging. Fun times.
Suddenly, I awoke with a start. Someone was being murdered outside our window! No...wait...a cat was being murdered outside our window! Wait...a cat in heat? Ohhhh...it's 5am. It's the call to prayer. Man those guys can really wail.
Did you know that there is not a single spot in Turkey that isn't within earshot of a mosque? Neither did we! But we quickly found out, as we woke up every single morning to the sounds of the call to prayer. We eventually got semi-used to it. But the only thing it made me want to pray for was more sleep.
Now a little word about the traditional Turkish breakfast. It's included in the price at most hotels, but don't expect anything elaborate. Or good. It consists primarily of bread, cheese, and olives. Is this breakfast or cocktail hour?
Anyway, moving on.
We spent our morning at the Mevlana museum. This was the former lodge of the whirling dervishes, and is named after (and devoted to) the most beloved and respected mystic philosopher in the Islam world. It was gorgeous, but overrun with hordes of people. We were approaching a religious holiday, of course, so it made sense that people would be visiting such a religious site. But they didn't take to kindly to foreigners getting in their way. So it was a pretty rushed tour, but it was ok because it was primarily a mausoleum. Lots and lots of dead people. And a random box containing a lock of hair from Mohammed's beard. That for some reason smells like roses. Creeepy.
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| Sorry, no photos allowed inside. |
By the time we finished, it was 11:30. Hey, if we hurry, we can catch the noon bus and not have to wait until 1! We sprinted for the main road. We spotted a dolmuş and hailed it like a taxi. So that's how that works!
It was the slowest bus in the history of buses. The driver slowed down for every single pedestrian we passed. None of whom were trying to catch the bus. We watched out the window as cars flew past us, and kept an eye on our watches as our half hour window quickly closed. When we pulled up at the otogar, is was 2 minutes past 12. And these buses are usually nothing if not punctual.
Hubby was resigned to waiting another hour at the otogar, but I was not giving up so easily. I wanted out of Konya asap. The place just had a weird vibe. So we ran. Have you ever tried to run as fast as you can while wearing a giant backpack that weighs as much as you do? Yeah it's not fun. BUT...we made the bus.
Hells yeah. We'd get to Antalya by 5, much earlier than we'd expected, grab a rental car and get to Çıralı with plenty of time to hike up to the Chimaera before bed.
Oh, if only things had actually happened that way...
"Suddenly, I awoke with a start. Someone was being murdered outside our window! No...wait...a cat was being murdered outside our window! Wait...a cat in heat? Ohhhh...it's 5am. It's the call to prayer. Man those guys can really wail."
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