It’s a big, ol’ country, Turkey. In contrast to much of the mashrutka-hopping I engaged in for the last couple of months, I seem to be spending considerable periods of my day on the road – 5 hours to Trabzon, 8 hours to Samsun, 7 hours to Ankara tomorrow – which leaves little scope for general hilarity on the road.
I can’t even complain about the state of the roads, my offensive mashrutka-mates or questionable cuisine. I’m in Turkey and the livin’ is easy, my friends. Find the otogar, jump on a clean, new, streamlined vessel replete with air-con, coffee machines and wireless internet, zoom down the motorways until you reach your destination. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Fine – so one bus had a few issues somewhere between Trabzon and Sinop, necessitating a pause of an hour or so, during which we were fed, watered, and encouraged to have a stroll along the beach. Slightly more convenient than this series of multiple breakdowns in Kazakhstan.
The realities of the Turkish road network mean that I’ve now peeled myself away from the Black Sea coast which I have been following since crossing the border from Georgia. It’s a wonderful drive – dropping in and out of small seaside resorts where old men sit under pines in the parks drinking tea looking out to the sea. If you lived in one of these places you’d be drip-fed ice cream and no doubt feel that life was one non-stop holiday. Fantastic.
With the “utilitarian” city of Samsun behind me, I head on towards the Turkish capital, and finally across the Bosphorus to Istanbul.