ASIA: The land of Great Travels

By Roger Webber

Asia (with Europe) is the largest continuous landmass, containing a variety of countries, peoples and scenic wonders. It is the objective of many travellers to get from one end to the other, but in doing so there are different ways and many hazards in the way. The northern route is by the trans-Siberian railway, with a link to China, to then return via a more southern route through India and Iran. In ancient times there had been the Silk Road, with its many alternative sections. These routes formed the basis of many of my travels, but not as a continuous journey as there were countries to explore on the way.

In ASIA, Webber covers the whole continent and comprehensively includes all countries in Asia. The book is beautifully illustrated with both black and white and colour photos as well as route maps of all the journeys. It is set over sixty years and includes historical and geographical descriptions of large parts of the region.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Release date: Feb 28, 2024
• ISBN: 9781805147633

Roger Webber

Roger Webber grew up in East Africa which gave him early exposure to travel to foreign countries. He qualified in medicine and worked in the Solomon Islands for the next ten years, during which he undertook research that led to a programme of eliminating filariasis from the world. He was posted to Tanzania as a Medical Coordinator of an aid programme and completed his second travel book. In 1985 he joined the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine where he made extensive visits to Asia resulting in the book’s title.

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CHAPTER ONE

Turkey

The first country in Asia I had been to was Turkey, in the summer of 1963, as I made my way in the hopeless quest of getting to India in the limited time I had in the long university vacation. Coming through Europe mainly by train this seemed the best way to continue as they were cheap and would get me to where I wanted to go more reliably than hitch-hiking. Somehow I caught the slowest possible train, but it did have the advantage that I could see the countryside as we travelled through on our way to Ankara.

Despite being a recent capital chosen by Atatürk after World War I Ankara had ancient origins and was a village when Alexander the Great came through on his conquest of Asia. Like so many cities in Turkey it had a citadel and around this the ancient part of the town was situated, but apart from this skyscrapers and motorways formed the modern city in a mass of confusion and bad driving. Its saving grace was the museum containing treasures from all the ancient civilizations that had made Anatolia their home and were to be an endless source of interest as I was to explore the country.

The next train passed through the centre of the country, through Kyseri, Divrigi and Erzurum. It was the area around Divrigi which was the most attractive, with deep canyons and all around snow covered mountains. Erzurum though was as far as the train would take us so we set about hitch-hiking to the border town of Dogubayazit, given the nick name of Dogy’s biscuit, in our failure to pronounce it properly by the many like-minded travellers who had taken this route. (This journey and the onward travel into Iran are covered in my book Solomoni).

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I returned several times to the western part of the country, the part familiar to most people, the wonderful coastline that had once been as integral a part of Greece as its islands, and the eternal city of Istanbul that had gone through the transition of Greek, Roman and Byzantine before its Islamic transformation. The eastern part of Turkey though remained a country to explore that I never managed to get to until the end of 2019.

I started off in Adana which I could easily fly to and hire a car, to travel to Iskenderun and Antakya, now called Hatay, the name for the part of the country that protrudes into the Levant and its troubled border with Syria. The road passed through Issus, now a nondescript area of factories but the site of the famous battle in which Alexander defeated the Persians. His army then continued south to also conquer Egypt and create the first of the towns called Alexandria. It is surprising that the Persians did not try to stop him crossing the mountains at the place where Belen is now situated as this is a strategic pass on the road south.

Antakya was formerly called Antioch and founded by Seleucus Nicator, one of Alexander’s generals and a centre of the Seleucid dynasty that was to rule this part of Asia. Taken over by the Romans it grew into one of the largest cities of the ancient world, attracting St Peter to found a Christian community and subsequently a patriarchy. Much of the ancient city has been excavated and in what must be a unique piece of architecture built over them in a large series of viewing platforms that form the floors of a hotel. To the north of the city a church was made from a cave excavated into the cliff and reputably where St Peter preached, so must be one of the first churches ever. Nearby is an even more remarkable Christian monastery, that of St Simeon, who spent nearly all his life perched on the top of a pillar, preaching to the faithful who came to hear him. Situated on the top of a hill it is now surrounded by wind turbines and only the base of the pillar remains.

Keeping to the east of the mountains I travelled back north along what was an extension of the African Rift Valley to come to the remarkable Karatepe Hittite sculpture factory. Rather like on Easter Island this was the place where statues were made, to be distributed to the various Hittite towns around the empire. There were lions, horses, sphinxes and various other symbolic shapes that had been carved to various stages of completion, and rather like the enigmatic statues on Easter Island stood where they had been worked on but never completed. Further north was Tilmen Hüyük, no more than a mound like the many on the flat plain, but surrounded by a river that made it into a defensive site to become an important Hittite outpost. Excavations had revealed a succession of occupations from the late Chalcolithic to the Iron age.

Of a later age were the beautiful mosaics in the Zeugma museum in Gaziantepe, rescued by a team of archaeologists from several countries before the waters of the Birecik Dam overcame them. A city the size of Manchester it left me confused as I tried to find my way through it. I was therefore glad to head north into open country and the remarkable mountain of Nemrut Daği, which had been the major objective of my coming to this part of Turkey. I travelled through the northern part of the Tigris-Euphrates basin, known as the fertile crescent for its origin of agriculture and civilization. From the plain a road climbed up an escarpment and near the top were some dolmens, the only ones I had seen in the country. One had high sides and a large capstone like you would find in Cornwall or Brittany while the others were much lower, but appeared to have been burials. They certainly had a grandstand view of the plain that had been so formative in the development of civilization as we know it.

The road passed close to a large lake created by damming the Euphrates and centred on the town of Adiyaman. Soon after this I turned off on a smaller road to climb steeply to Nemrut Daği. It was a spectacular road as my little car struggled to go ever higher into the mountain, which appeared as a pointed mound in front of me. From the parking place it was a steep walk to the two platforms where giant figures had been erected, now fallen, their massive heads on the ground. The whole complex was constructed by King Antiochus, choosing the highest mountain in the area and then building a huge mound of stones on top in which he is presumed to be buried. As well as a head of Antiochus there were those of Hercules, gods and mythical creatures, spanning the beliefs of the Hittites and the Greeks. Originally these were large sitting figures, parts of which remain towards the back of the platform, but with the snow and ice that covers them in winter they have been broken up and now the great heads stand staring at you from ground level. All the people of his kingdom were obliged to climb up to the mountain and pay homage to the statues much in the same way that present day inhabitants of North Korea have to in front of the huge statues of the Kims. For all its megalomanic implications it was a wonderful place, with superb views in every direction.

Further down the mountain, following a valley I came to Arsameia where King Antiochus had constructed a religious site. There was a statue of his father King Mithras and a finely worked carving of Antiochus shaking hands with Hercules. Two tunnels led into mysterious cult chambers and an alter looked over the castle where the king had once had his palace, now a Mamluk fortress. Further down was a fine Roman Bridge over the river, complete with commemorative columns and built on a massive scale. Back on the valley bottom and looking back at Nemrut Daği was another tumulus in which his wife was buried.

A new bridge crossed a fine gorge where the Euphrates entered the lake, then continued to Sirek from where I turned south to Sanliurfa. This was perhaps the most attractive of all the cities in this part of Turkey, with fine citadel and in front a large open area on which its two superb museums were situated. The most impressive of these was a huge dome built over beautiful mosaics from various sites, the most complete being of Amazons hunting wild animals. To one side of the central park was a necropolis from Roman times while in the old part of town were carp filled lakes and the revered cave of Abraham. Outside of the city and to the north-west was the recently discovered site of Göbleki Tepe. Originally appearing as a large mound, now excavated, it has revealed a remarkable series of circularly arranged T shaped monoliths. Exquisitely carved animals, ducks, dogs, cats and others have been worked into the stones either free standing or as reliefs, dated to 11,000 BCE. This was at a time before agriculture had been invented and the people were still hunter-gatherers so there is speculation that a pre-civilisation had developed not dependent on agriculture and this was their cult site, the oldest ever discovered.

The next day I explored Dara, close to the Syrian border and advised by the Foreign and Commonwealth Office as an unsafe area, but there was no sign of any fighting or even of troop emplacements. It had been a Byzantine town and was most remarkable for the cisterns that had stored water during the long dry summer and in case of siege. This was south of Mardin a spectacularly situated city that had formerly been the centre of the Syrian Christians, before they moved to Damascus under pressure of persecution. From here I took a large loop to the east, to Midyat and Hasankale where a dam of the Tigris was under construction right through the old city. The cliffs on both sides of the river had been excavated to make houses and tombs.

My stop for the night was Diyarbakir, the in-theory capital of Kurdistan if there ever was to be such a country. With the Kurdish people spread over the south-east of Turkey the northern parts of Iraq and Syria, as well as in Iran there has been unrest for many years as the people strive to make their own country. As I entered there were well entrenched gun positions and even tanks of the Turkish army to make sure no insurgency would start again. This apart Diyarbakir was a walled city and World Heritage listed.

I left across the last of the Tigris plain to Silvan, after which the road climbed into rocky mountains, an attractive gorge and Bitlis. A huge citadel, originally built by one of the generals that fought with Alexander the Great, stood over the town. At its base was a river along which the town had grown, so had been a strategic place for thousands of years. This was just a short distance from Lake Van a really beautiful part of the country. I climbed up to Nemrut Daği, a volcano overlooking the lake and quite different from the other mountain of the same name. Much taller than it presently stands a huge eruption over 200,000 years ago toppled the summit to block the river to form Lake Van. There was snow on the highest part as I descended to the crater lake with the setting sun, to shed a wonderful orange light onto the crater sides. As I returned the moon came out over Lake Van and the snow covered mountains shimmered in its light on the other side.

In the morning I set off along the southern shore of the lake, the mountains coming close to the water’s edge so that in places the road had to tunnel through. The water was a beautiful turquoise colour and across the lake could be seen the 4434 m volcano of Siphan Daği. The people that had originally made the Lake Van area their home were the Uratians, who constructed buildings with the most perfect of stonework, that rivalled the Incas in its precision. On a ridge at Cavustepe were the remains of a palace, while the limestone crest of rocks near the modern city of Van had been their capital, originating from 844 BCE. Remains of a temple and tomb can still be found, although most of the rock has been covered by an Ottoman fortress. The Persians had also increased their empire by defeating the Uratians as shown by an inscription on the rock left by Xerxes.

This whole area, extending across the border had once been the lands of the Armenians, one of the earliest Christian sects so their churches were still very much in evidence. Persecuted by the Turks, the churches had been left to decay but of recent times become of interest not only to visitors but even local people, so many have now been restored. The best known of these is the Church of the Holy Cross on Akdamar Island, reached after a short boat journey from the southern shores of Lake Van. Erected between 915 and 921 CE it is particularly noted for its relief carvings of stories from the Bible, covering its external surface. It has the characteristic circular tower and pointed roof found on all Armenian Churches and the remains of original frescoes which once covered all of its inside.

The road north of Van climbed to 2644 m to cross the lava fields that had come from Tendurek Daği (3660 m), while ahead was the formidable shape of Ararat (5137 m) that had been such a feature of the countryside when I came this way in 1963. It was a steep descent to Doğubeyazit which I explored in more detail this time, climbing up to the Ishak Pasa Sarayi a restored palace from Ottoman times, set in a magnificent position. There were 14 rooms for the women of the harem, a dungeon, servants quarters, mosque and baths as well as all the function rooms associated with a palace. Further up the mountain was a fortress and tomb from Uratian times.

I continued on to Kars, and then headed east to Ani right on the border of what is now Armenia and had been their capital in 961 CE. Devastated by the Mongols and an earthquake in 1319 only the walls and churches, in various states of collapse, remained of what is still an imposing place. Recent excavation has unearthed a fire temple so the site had been occupied for some period before the Armenians. On one side is a spectacular gorge while the churches stand sentinel over the remains of a city that once rivalled Constantinople in importance. The best of the churches was that of St Gregory, perched on the side of the ravine and still with some frescoes. Although little was left of the Convent of the Virgins it was situated even further down the slope of the ravine in a more inaccessible position, perhaps to keep its inmates away from the rest of the population. A natural rise was the base of the citadel, while beyond it, on a finger of rock poking into the ravine, was the monastery of Kiz Killsesi now quite unreachable as the tunnel to get to it has long since collapsed. Above all though it was the situation of Ani that made it so impressive and had ensured its inclusion on the World Heritage list.

This seemed to be a remarkable corner of Turkey as not only were there the reminders of its Armenian heritage, but also of Georgian and even Russian incursions. Fine buildings in Kars took one back to the golden days of Russian architecture such as found in St Petersburg, while Georgian churches remained in several remote places. I followed round the shore of Lake Gölü with its Georgian villages and remains of churches, then climbed high through bleak grasslands at over 2500 m. Snow covered the hillsides and a fragile wooden village guarded the summit of the pass as I descended through old pine forest and the most attractive scenery I had been through.

After Savsot was a castle close to the road which amongst its usual facilities had a pharmacy, while somehow they had managed to excavate the rock to form a cistern at the very highest part of the building. A little further on a sign encouraged me to follow a stupendous road up the side of the valley to Tedeskoy where they had made a rural-life museum. The autumn tints only added to what was already a beautiful scene. The road continued to descend with the river, passing through a fine gorge before loosing all the trees and entering a rocky valley and the start of dam works. A turquoise coloured lake had been formed but the hills were very scarred as I neared Artvin. Instead I turned south through another valley that was so steep sided that it became almost one continuous tunnel as I came to Yasufeli. An attractive town it was set in the heart of the mountains, and at a lower level, so was not as cold as Erzurum situated above 2000 m, and my next stop. Travel there had been a lovely journey through mountains rising steeply on both sides and the wonderful autumn colours on the cypresses and other trees. On the way I visited several churches, Ishan, which had been so restored that it looked like a new building, Osk Vank with which they are preparing to do the same, and Haho, the only church that will be left as it was originally as it has been converted into a mosque. In Erzurum were various Islamic buildings, some of which had been constructed by the Mongols, rather a change from the destruction that had been their main achievement. It was to here that I came in 1963 and the end of my long rail journey that had started in Vienna.

I left with the dawn, descending off the bleak plateau into a river valley and some attractive scenery. Just before Erzincan I spotted Altintepe, an Uratian castle, with on the lower slopes a Byzantine church. Tepe must mean hillock or prominent place as wherever this name was used there was something ancient. I bypassed Erzincan and found the road to Kemah which followed a pretty stream and was also the way the railway went. Kemah had high cliffs behind it on which was an ancient citadel (Kemakha), this country was just crammed full of ancient remains. The road then left the railway, which continued in the valley, climbing high over the hills, with the Munzur range of mountains always visible. Descending from this highland I came to Divrigi, an attractive town with old houses and narrow streets set in a wide valley. Its masterpiece though was the flamboyantly decorated great mosque and hospital, so unlike any other mosque, and probably the work of Armenian craftsmen. A citadel guarded the town above while on the other side was a steep canyon that made almost a complete circle. I had not originally intended to come here, it being away from the logical route to follow but it turned out to be one of the pleasantest towns I was to ever stay in.

I returned to the main road over a grassy plateau to come to Sivas, with its central square surrounded by impressive Islamic buildings built by the Selçuks, then continued on to the more atmospheric city of Tokat. Surrounded by hills the citadel was high up on a rocky ridge. On the lower slopes of this hill were many old houses and streets set at illogical angles to each other so the only way of telling which way to go was to follow downwards. There were interesting museums and outside the city the remains of the Roman town of Comana Pontica.

The last of this triplet of cities was Amasya built in the bottom of a gorge such that high up on one side was the citadel, below it Pontic tombs cut into the rock face, and at the bottom beautiful Ottoman houses set along the side of the river. On the other side was the commercial town and museum containing important Hittite items. I was now in the region of the Hittites, one of the most important and interesting peoples that lived in these lands. Cutting across to Coram to spend the night I was in the vicinity of their most important ancient cities. The northernmost one is called Alacahöyük with its fine Sphinx gate. This seemed to be a Royal city for here were the tombs of royalty, each a rectangular enclosure with a skeleton in one corner and the heads of water buffalo that had been sacrificed at the time of the burial. The main city Hattuşa covered a vast area, with the remains of its walls stretching over several hills and at strategic places large gates, which were the main feature of the site. The lion gate is perhaps the best known, while below the Sphinx gate was a tunnel like in Alacahöyük, thought to be a way of controlling the flow of pedestrians and any would-be attackers. Within the walls were the remains of temples and the Great Fortress or fortified palace. Inscriptions and some fine reliefs have helped to shed more light on the Hittites and the Hatti that came before them, originally constructing the city around 2500 BCE. Further clues were found in the temple site of Yazilikaya where reliefs of gods and kings have been carved on the rocky sides of two narrow ravines. A feature of many of the figures are the tall conical hats that were worn by the gods, and like a crown by the king.

I braved the traffic of Ankara to find the Museum of Anatolian Civilization in which the finest treasures of all the ancient places I had visited were kept. After Alexander and the Greeks, the Romans had also made it a city, with the Temple of Augustus, incongruously sided by a mosque, of importance because of its inscriptions on the achievements of Augustus. To the west was Gordion with the tomb of Midas below a huge tumulus and containing a massive wooden sarcophagus, while nearby was the extensive remains of the Phrygian city of which he had been the last king. Alexander came this way and destroyed the myth of the knot that cannot be untied by slicing through it with his sword.

It was then a long boring drive to Afiyon and further south to Burdur and the magnificent remains at Sagalossus, built high up on the side of a mountain where there was a good supply of water. Originally built by the Pisidians, it was conquered by Alexander, to subsequently be enlarged by the Romans with a series of fine buildings, fountains and large squares to make it one of the most beautiful of their cities in Anatolia.

This part of Turkey is called the lake District with the loveliest of the lakes at Eğirdir, where the old town juts into the lake on a fortified peninsular. It was a beautiful drive alongside the lake to Psidian Antiochia which St Paul visited and preached his first sermon. It had been an extensive Roman city, with two main roads, a theatre and bath house remaining, while coming from the hills were the arches of a massive aqueduct that had been the main source of water. In the museum were Hittite as well as Roman items so it must have been a very ancient place to have a town. Although the road then passed Lake Beyşehir it was less attractive than Eğirdir.

I came on to Konya, a large well organised city that has become famous as the home of Mevlâna and his mystical sect of Islam, better known as the Whirling Dervishers. A form of Sufiism, they believe that contemplative and mystical practices, enabled by the whirling action of the body, will free them from worldly anxieties. His teaching did much to formulate the version of Islam practised in Turkey so the city is a centre of pilgrimage from which it has grown wealthy. The Mevlâna mausoleum is surrounded by an area of fine buildings and parks, with a huge new hall (Semahane) in which the whirling dervishers perform. It is a very formalised ceremony, paying homage to the master while the second in command is like a dance master controlling the period of turning movement and making sure that everyone circulates. Unlike ballet dancers they do not turn their heads quickly to avoid getting dizzy, but after each session of whirling none of them became unsteady so they must have learnt how to compensate for this. Despite its religious nature it has become something of a theatrical performance with changing coloured lights and admission tickets.

I somehow found myself to the World Heritage site of Çatal Höyük which initially was just a large mound like several others in the surrounding plain. Excavation has found the remains of a unique kind of village in which all the houses were built next to each other with no streets, doors or windows, but entered from the roof by a ladder. They buried the dead under the floor and then constructed another house on top so the mound of the village grew ever taller. It is the oldest Neolithic village ever found although another of similar design has been discovered in Cappadocia (mentioned below) which is still being excavated.

I tried to find ancient Lystra but finished up in what had been Kilistra, (present day Gökyurt), thinking it was a modern day translation. There were more associations with St Paul but I think he probably came to the cave houses on the other side of the river rather than the present day village. It was then a long drive across a stony desert, past the large lake and swamp of Tuz Gölü. Despite the inhospitable landscape it was clearly an important route because the largest caravanserai I have ever seen had been recently restored at Sultanhani. There was a covered area for winter use and presumably it was a stopping place for travellers to and from Konya. I however continued on to Aksary where there was a good hotel and museum, placing me in an ideal position for my exploration of Cappadocia the following day.

I started in the Ihlara gorge with its vertical sides and beautifully clear stream, which must have made an ideal refuge. There were churches cut into the rock face, several still with frescoes. I walked from Belishrma to the visitor centre at Ihlara visiting all the churches I could get to, that of St George being perhaps the best. It had been built quite high up the cliff and still had good frescoes. Returning to where I had left the car I noticed the sign to Asikli Höyük the other Neolithic village similar to Çatal Höyük and dated to 10,000 years ago. The guard kindly opened up the tent protecting the excavations and showed me round the site, which will add considerably to our knowledge of this intriguing period of pre-history.

One of the most interesting features of the early Byzantine Christians of Cappadocia were the underground cities that had been constructed to offer a secure place from persecution. The largest is at Derinkuyu reaching a depth of 55 m, although ventilation shafts and wells went down even further. They contained living quarters, churches, schools, wine-presses and everything required for this subterranean life. There was another at Kaymakli which had many of its doors in situ, large stones which could be rolled into place to block off tunnels in the event of an attack. A third one has now been discovered north of Avanos.

Cappadocia is particularly famed for its so-called fairy chimneys, columns of rock in the shape of pinnacles of various sizes that are easily excavated into homes, churches and various other uses. The best place to see them was at Pasabagi, although the whole of the countryside is covered in them. Most famed is Goreme where they have been excavated to form churches and monasteries, some with beautiful frescoes. Then at Uçhisar was a honeycombed mountain that must have held a huge population, protected by a citadel on its summit. Further south was Ürgüp where I stayed the night, before exploring the Soğanli valley. Here was a unique type of rock church that marked the southern extent of Cappadocia.

The special landscape of Cappadocia was caused by volcanic activity, the soft ash forming the easily eroded tuff, while a layer of harder basalt prevented it from being worn down in layers. The largest of these volcanoes is Erciyes Dagi (3917 m), south of Kayseri, the slopes of which are covered with towns popular in the hotter months, while in winter they become the base for skiing. The main part of the city was centred round a crenelated citadel, inside which they had thoughtfully built a new museum containing items that had been recovered from the Assyrian trading city of Kültepe, to the north-east. Considerable damage was done to the city when it was destroyed by fire so the actual site is not that impressive, but many clay seals were recovered which gave much information on life in 2000 BCE.

I found I had extra time so made a long diversion to the one city I wanted to visit but did not fit in to the route I had taken, Malatya. Leaving Kyserie I had superb views of Ericiyes then passed through bleak hills with a powdering of snow, before descending through attractive valleys to come on to the plain on which Malatya had been built. As with most of these modern cities, the original, here called Arslantepe, was situated a few kilometres away to the north-east. First constructed in 3500 BCE the various layers had revealed Chalcolithic, Bronze age and Hittite remains, now in the museum. Incredibly some painting on the plastered walls had also survived from these times. Nearby was the Ottoman town of Battalgazi with a caravanserai and the remains of its walls.

From Malatya I soon climbed into the mountains but eventually had to go through them by the Erkenek tunnel, to descend steeply the other side to an unattractive area around Türkoğlu, the most northerly extension of the African Rift Valley, that I knew so well from my time in East Africa. Climbing through the hills that I had crossed some weeks before I came down to Adana where as anticipated got quite lost. Time was still on my side though so once I had untangled myself from the confusion of roads I continued down the coast and then inland.

I had stopped at the right place on the coast last night, a resort hotel off-season that had no other guests, for in the morning I soon came to the beautiful ruins of Kanlidivane, originally Greek but then Roman. A major industry had made olive oil while the town was arranged around a sinkhole, where in ancient times wild animals were said to have been kept. Just a short distance further on were the ruins of Ayas, bisected by the road, with the theatre and agora on one side and palace and fort near the sea. The attractive coast road continued past the castles of Kizkalesi, one on the beach and the other on an island. A short turn-off led to the charming village of Narlikuyu with its Bath of Poimenius and its fine mosaic of the Three Graces. A small sign led to a road going inland, past two ruined and overgrown Roman ruins, before joining the other road to Uzuncarburç, first settled by the Hittites, but most of the ruins were Greek. The large temple of Zeus had 3rd century Corinthian columns, while a high tower gives the place its name. Nearby was the small site of Olba more famous for its name than for the ruins that remained. I continued along the road which would eventually come to Mut but first passed through spectacular limestone scenery including a most imposing canyon. My objective was the monastic remains at Alahan, in its wonderful position high up on the mountainside. Starting off as a cave church, three further churches had been constructed of stone. I returned in a wonderful evening light to stay the night at Mut, but for all my planning there was fog in the morning so I only caught glimpses of the canyon that the road followed back down to the coast.

I came back to Adana for the last time, through Mersin which just seemed to be a town of endless apartments, to Tarsus, familiar to any Christian. St Paul was born here so could claim Roman citizenship and there is a well and church associated with him. Forty six years earlier Cleopatra came to Tarsus to meet Mark Anthony so there is also a gate named after the Egyptian queen, while even more ancient is the grave of Daniel the prophet. A mosque had been built on the place, with no obvious tomb, but recent excavation found a chamber some depth below the ground level covered by an arched roof, so Tarsus has taken on added fame as a religious centre. (Daniel is also reputed to have been buried at Susa in Iran).

There seemed to be almost nowhere you could go in this incredible country of ancient remains without finding more, as taking a drive south of Adana to pass the time before my evening flight I came to Margassus a coastal city not far from Karataş, dating from ancient Greek times, and not shown on my map or mentioned in the guide book. One could spend all one’s time exploring this fascinating country in more detail.

CHAPTER TWO

Azerbaijan, Georgia and Armenia

It was 2007 and I had checked myself into a very nice hotel in the centre of the old city, which with its palace, mosque and the Maiden’s tower was the heart of Baku. Gifted with some fine architecture and pleasant parks especially along the sea front it could have been a fine city, but the water was heavily polluted with oil, the smell of which wafted in with the breeze. Baku has always been about oil, right from ancient times when it was used as Greek Fire, until the 19th century when Azerbaijan supplied half of the world’s oil. A peninsular juts into the Caspian Sea and this is where most of the oil is found in an environmental horror story. Industrial plants and nodding donkeys cover the land but amongst them is the Ateşgah Fire Temple. Built on a natural gas vent it became a Zoroastrian temple in the 6th century CE with its continually burning flame. Further south along the coast are much older remains, petroglyphs of people and animals the oldest of which are dated to 34,000 years ago.

I left Baku heading north-west across barren ground, the bus then climbed into greener country, forest and a view of snowy mountains, to come to Qebala, an ancient city from the 3rd century BCE, but little remains except for what has been found in excavation, now in the museum. I continued on to Saki to stay the night in one of the two huge caravansaries. A pleasant town, it was situated at the base of the mountains at a place where a river emerged, while high up was the Khan’s palace, with many painted rooms.

The mountains looked attractive and I was tempted to stay on and do some hiking, but without a guide or knowing where were the best places I pushed on to the border with Georgia. The only item the Azerbaijani customs wanted to see was my map which fortunately was out of date and did not have the separate enclave of Nagorno-Karabakh marked on it (recently fought over and annexed by Armenia) which might have caused me problems. The Georgians had no such hang-ups and as luck would have it there was a taxi willing to take me to Tbilisi, paying for it in Azeri money which was all I had. To get there we crossed the valley of the Alazani River and then passed through a gap in the hills, guarded by the fortified town of Sighnaghi. There then followed an area of monasteries and old towns as we made our way to the capital.

I had been to Tbilisi before when Georgia was part of the Soviet Union and churches were abandoned. Now religion had made a considerable comeback with all the churches repaired and the huge new cathedral that had been built on the bank of the Mtkvari River. There were several other important churches both of the Georgian and Armenian persuasion as many Armenians had settled here in the past. The name of the city indicates that it has a warm spring, hence the number of baths and reputation as a place of healing. Dominating the city is the Narikala Fortress dating from the 4th century Persian citadel, and the aluminium statue of Mother Georgia, of Soviet design.

Georgia is a compact country and I found it easier to do a number of day trips returning each time to the capital, the first being to Davit Gareja, a series of caves cut into the soft limestone. There had been many monasteries here in the past, some with beautiful frescoes but sadly they had been damaged and neglected. Nearer Tbilisi and a former capital was Mtskheta with its wonderful old cathedral and Jvari church, built on a rocky promontory. It was a peaceful ancient place with superb view over the river.

Somehow my long and incredible day worked out with an early start to Uplisteke, an ancient cave city originating in the late bronze age (1,000 BCE) and the residence of Georgian kings, until devastated by the Mongols. Set above the river it was an impressive site, with some well-carved cave churches. The car continued to Gori, famous as the birthplace of Joseph Stalin and where his house is now preserved. Further west was Khašuri where the road turned off into the mountains, following a raging river through a lush green canyon to Bordžomi and Akhaltsikhe. Taking a small rough track we climbed high over the mountains to beautiful Sapara, an ancient monastery with two churches. We then turned east to follow another river, climbing all the time until we came to Vardzia, the most impressive place in the whole region. On one side of the river the cliff had been completely honeycombed with caves, originally for defence, but subsequently as a religious complex, with central church still covered in frescoes. The finest were of Queen Tamara and her husband before they were married. A passage went behind the church, climbing to a higher level and with rooms off to the sides. There had been several other fortified cities in this strategic valley.

This journey had been a preliminary to going to Armenia, however the road was atrocious, so bad that in places people just went off to the side to find an easier way. We climbed all the time until we were high up in the hills with remnants of snow, until finally coming to the border. Having left the Georgian part some police took it upon themselves to guard me as I crossed no man’s land to the Armenian side where there was something of a pantomime as they prepared my visa. The immigration official struggled with the computer until I eventually had to type in my own name as it seemed something too difficult for him to do. Fortunately there was a taxi waiting on the off chance that somebody like me might want to get across so I gladly took it to Gyumri, arriving at the same time as a huge storm. There was the most awful darkness, lit by continuous lightning, then it was as though a lake had been dropped on us.

I was able to arrange a car for the next day with a talkative Armenian who told me the whole of his country’s history from when it was a great nation up to its present state, dependent on Russian protection from threatening Turkey. Apparently when the Azerbaijan army collapsed in its attempt to re-conquer Nagorno-Karabakh Armenia could have taken over the whole of Azerbaijan if Turkey had not threatened to invade.

We went first to Marmashen just north of Gyumri, a non-functioning but still well preserved monastery from the 6th century. It was in a pleasant place, by a river and had the remains of three churches. We then returned to Gyumri, now a bit more alive with traffic and people as we went through the very Soviet style main square. We had not gone far south before my ever-resourceful guide wanted to show me the ruins of an early city and palaces, then to Harichavank monastery, over the most dreadful road. It consisted of two churches that had been joined together by several ages of construction but the most interesting feature was the Persian influence in the ceiling and around the doors. Nearby was a tiny 5th century church still in very good condition. All these diversions had taken time so it was not until late afternoon that we made our way towards Yerevan, passing the two snow-covered peaks of Mount Aragats (4090 m) and coming to Echmiadzin, the Vatican of the Armenian Church. There were three churches, all fine pieces of architecture and associated with early saints, especially of beautiful Hripsime who wishing to remain true to her faith rather than marry the king was stoned to death as a martyr. Further on were the remains of the great round cathedral of Zvartnots, which at three stories high must have been incredible to see, before being toppled by an earthquake in 930 CE.

Arriving in Yerevan I first went to Garni, with its reconstructed Ionic temple, even with a roof. Next to it was a church and Roman bath house, while down in the valley was a ridge of basalt columns. Following the river to the head of the valley we came to the finest of the monasteries I had yet seen in Armenia, Geghard. Partly carved out of the rock and then built onto it was a pleasant and attractive place. There was another church completely carved within the rock as well as several cells that were still venerated. Nearby the river thundered down a fall, while on the other side were pieces of cloth tied to the trees in the more ancient practice of obtaining spiritual help.

Yerevan was a vast place spread between several hills and with a huge cascade monument of steps and fountains in the centre, from which all the streets, arranged in a diamond shape, spread out from. There was nothing old about the city except for a couple of churches which were difficult to find. The main square was huge with massive buildings constructed of pink tuff, including the history museum, with exhibits from 3000 BCE Metsamor and the Urartu Empire centred on Van in Turkey. Here also was the national gallery with works by Italian, French and Dutch masters. A city though is also its people and amongst the many characters of Yervan could be found classical profiles of ancient Greeks and Persians.

A little van came early in the morning with a driver that did not speak a word of English, nor could I speak a word of his tongue, but we somehow managed. As we travelled south-west we had good views of Mount Ararat (5165 m) which seemed so close considering it was in Turkey. Seeing it again reminded me how I had passed it 44 years previously on my way to Iran. Coming to Naxçivan, the enclave of Azerbaijan, the road turned into the mountains and climbed through grassy slopes to then come down to the turn off to Noravank monastery. Set in a beautiful gorge there were two churches made from the same pink stone as elsewhere in the country, the main one a perfection in design so that the whole structure seemed surprisingly delicate. The smaller church was the original shrine constructed in 1227. Continuing through grassy countryside we came to Karahunj (Zorats Karer), a mysterious ancient place, dating from 3000 BCE. It was made of basalt blocks arranged in a circle and with serpiginous arms radiating from it, both north and south. In the centre of the circle was a central cyst and subsidiary ones indicating that it had originally been used for burials. There were meant to be celestial alignments both with the Pyramids and Stonehenge. Further on we turned off the main road along a spectacular track to Tatev monastery. It was by far the most impressive scenery I had seen in the country and a joy to be amongst trees. The monastery was walled like a fortress, with an intriguing little church built over the gateway. The main church was quite large and had a beautiful uncluttered space inside. It was certainly one of the most dramatic settings I had seen and well worth the atrocious road to get to it. We finally came to Goris, where there were some cave houses, and as far as we would go as we were near the border of the troubled Nagorno-Karabakh. Returning to Sisian I was put into a little hotel where I found I was not able to communicate with anybody.

Sisian was actually a pleasant place to stay with good hotel and cool climate, from which we climbed back onto the grassy highlands and over the Vorotan pass. We then turned off the road we had come on to go north into a broad and attractive valley, to zigzag up the hillside to the even higher pass of Vayots Dzor (2410 m) and a wonderful old caravanserai. This was the gateway to Lake Sevan to which we gradually descended, although it was itself at 1,900 m and the largest lake in the Caucasus. Following its western shore we passed a small monastery situated on a promontory on what must have been part of an ancient town as there were the remains of walls and a few caves that had been inhabited. Near the northern end of the lake it was rocky, making the road come close to the shore and providing the finest scenery. This was where the town of Sevan was situated and its monastery, built on a prominent hill which protruded into the lake. Leaving the lake we descended through a tunnel to Dilizan, a disappointing place after being cracked up to be the Switzerland of Armenia. I had a final treat in store with a diversion to Haghartsin Monastery, with its three churches set in a lovely secluded valley. Passing through a corridor of hills we came to Vanadzor, a scruffy town, to continue down the Debed River valley to a strange hotel set on the side of a rushing river.

The next day we continued down the lush green canyon, beautifully cool in the early morning to a footpath where I was told to walk, not knowing where I was meant to go. However, after I had climbed up a hill for some distance I came across the ruins of a church and beyond it a cave at a place called Kobayr. This was particularly lovely as there was a small stream falling over the front of it. We passed the the church of Odzun perched on the side of the canyon and later on came to the turn off to Sanahin Monastery, unique because of its function as a teaching establishment. Two churches were joined by a large hall in which the classes would have been held. Established in 928 CE it functioned as a medical school into the 12th century. Further down the canyon was Haghpat Monastery also built by Queen Khosrvanuch in 976 and World Heritage listed, along with Sanahin. Finally there was Akhtala, prominent on a rocky ridge and surrounded by walls, with inside some fine paintings. This was the end of my time in Armenia as soon we came back to the border with Georgia. (As there is still ill-feeling with Azerbaijan over Nagorno-Karabakh, and Turkey which supports it, both of these borders are closed so the only way to enter and leave the country overland is through Georgia). This indicated the end of the spectacular canyon as the valley opened and the Debet river turned east towards the Caspian Sea.

I was soon across both-check points with the help of an eager taxi driver who wanted to take me on to Tbilisi. It got progressively hotter as we came out onto the plain and by lunch time I had reached my destination. I fixed up my train ticket for the following day as from here I planned to make my way towards the border with Turkey, stopping off at places on the way.

It was a strange express hurtling across the plain as far as Khašuri, to then slow down and stop at every station as if to show me the attractive mountain scenery between here and Zestaponi, where it speeded up again. Two carriages were then uncoupled and taken on to Kutaisi, where I wanted to break my journey. It was a pleasant city, one of the oldest in the world. Founded almost 4,000 years ago, and associated with the story of the Argonauts, it still had some wonderful old houses. The great Cathedral of Bagrati that stood on a hill above the city was in ruins, destroyed by invading Ottomans in 1669. The big star was Gelati Monastery eleven kilometres north on a wooded hill, radiant with frescoes and even more colourful due to a series of weddings taking place, each of which was only given five minutes by the officiating priest. Famous for the tomb of King David he requested that his grave was placed near the entrance so that people coming into the church would walk over it, while in reality everybody bent down and kissed it. The other little chapel at Mozameta was more attractive for its position overlooking a gorge than the building itself.

The lady in my homestay looked after me very well, giving me a huge breakfast and finding a car to take me to Vani and Batumi for a reasonable sum. The old driver had a strange tremor and his car seemed to copy him, made even more uncomfortable by the many pot-holes in the road, but we did get to Vani. This was ancient Colchis where the Golden Fleece was kept and Jason’s quest in the myth. The old city was situated on a hill, the various levels of excavations revealing walls and buildings of a temple-city. Discovered by accident, rain had uncovered some gold items which are now in the museum, some of the finest worked gold I had ever seen. I particularly admired the headband on which had been made a scene of a cow being attacked by lions. Gold was collected by placing a sheep skin across rocks in the river onto which specks of gold would be caught, giving substance to the story of the Golden Fleece.

From Vani it was an easy journey to the coast across a level plain and through fertile countryside, while inland clouds covered the hills and a sultry air smothered everything. The Black Sea was calm and despite its name was a gentle shade of blue. Bits of beach and holiday places started to clutter the coast and soon we came to Batumi, the principal port, with road and rail connections to the rest of the country. I visited the art gallery and the museum as well as have some nostalgia for it was the last night I would be staying in Georgia. It was a country I would like to return to and spend more time in the mountain area.

My entrance into Turkey was eminently smooth aided by an early start, which even with a stop at Gonio fortress meant I was there by 9 am. For the visa all I needed to do was pay £10 and have a sticker placed in my passport with no need to fill in any forms. Once through there was a chap willing to take me to Hopa for $20, from where he said I could get a bus. When we got there sure enough a bus was doing the rounds soliciting for passengers, so nothing could have been easier. It was a pleasant journey along an excellent road, with the sea on one side and mountains on the other. We passed through a succession of towns with nothing special about any of them, arriving at Trabzon by lunchtime. The city was so named from the trapezoidal piece of land on which the citadel had been built. There were still parts of the wall that once surrounded the ancient city, while old churches had been turned into mosques. Greatest of the churches was Aya Sofya which formed the design for many later mosques. Sadly there was little to see of the thirteenth to fourteenth century Christian Trebizond, the semi-mythical city of intrigue and luxury that rivalled Italian Renaissance city-states, and was the lure of early visitors. Taken over by the Ottomans it saw the birth of Suleyman the Magnificent the final conqueror of Constantinople.

Inland from Trabzon is one of the highlights of this part of Turkey, Sumela Monastery. Passing up a deep-sided wooded valley, with rocks closing in on either side the monastery is built into a natural overhang. There was a wall of rooms on the outside and the church built into a cave within, more its position making it such a special place. There were frescoes both inside and outside the church, sadly badly damaged but still full of colour. Constructed in the Byzantine era the monastery was at its peak during Trebizond’s Komnenos dynasty, being famous ever since a Black Virgin statue was discovered here in 385. I drove further up the valley following a raging stream until I came out above the tree line and there was still some snow on the mountains. Purple and yellow rhododendrons added colour and perfume as I continued on to Torul just the other side of the pass. It was a beautiful drive and I was tempted to continue into the hills but I was on my way along the coast, to where I now returned.

The first part of the journey, as far as Giresun was attractive, with the mountains close to the sea, which was calm and blue and the hills looked interesting. However the many towns had little character, with modern buildings and apartment blocks so there was nothing to stop for. Onye was not nice and it became more level as the bus continued to Samsun, a large modern city. None of its ancient past was left, apart from that found in the museum so I did not stay the night there as I had originally planned but came on to Sinop. This was quite different scenery as the road climbed through trees and wheat fields and gave every appearance of a piece of Europe. Built on an isthmus between the mainland and a rocky promontory, extensive walls still protected this attractive little town. It gained its name from Sinope, an Amazon queen and daughter of a river god who attracted the attention of Zeus. Much to Zeus’s dismay when he asked her what she most desired she asked for eternal virginity which he reluctantly had to give her. Sinop is still regarded as the legendary home of the Amazons. Originally a Bronze Age settlement it became an Ionian city to subsequently be visited by Alexander the Great. With its wonderful harbour, now full of fishing boats and waterside cafes it was a nice place to stay.

The first bus took me as far as Turkeli, over the hills and down to the towns on the coast, through a rural scene of farming, from where another, after the usual delay of waiting around until it was full, got me as far as Inebolu. From here there was no further transport that day so I hired a taxi. Even at the rate he drove it was a difficult road, climbing and descending, with wonderful views of the coast, now with patches of swirling mist that made it look like parts of it were floating, to come to Amasra. Like Sinop with which it had much similarity, a wall protected the town but the nearby island was joined by a stone bridge to make harbours on both sides. There were plenty of hotels but it was mainly the beaches that were its attraction, rather than its ancient past. Mentioned in the Iliad as Sesamus its name derives from Queen Amastris, who ruled this part of the coast at the time of Alexander the Great. As with so much of history it was subsequently taken over by the Romans, of which most of the finds in the museum are from. Sadly this was the last place on the gentle Black Sea I would visit as I now headed inland and westward until I came to the Mediterranean.

Just inland are impressive pine covered mountains and in their midst the historic town of Safranbolu. This is perhaps the most Ottoman of any town in the country, with its half timbered houses, the lower section being made of stone and the upper made of wood or mud and wattle. The rooms were large and airy, all opening off a central hall and gave you a good idea of how the Ottoman merchants lived. With their pastel coloured walls and red-tiled roofs there was a marvellous homogeneity to the town.

It was quite a long journey to Iznik involving several bus journeys, at first through mountains then the highway to Izmit, before following the Sea of Marmara coastline and north shore of Iznik Lake. I had particularly come here to see the remains of Nicea, mostly from the Roman and Byzantine periods. The walls were still extent and the Aya Sofya Museum, founded by Justinian had some fine but damaged frescoes. Also the famous tile-making industry had been revived, said to be the finest in the country. It was a pleasant town and with its lakeside setting, an attractive place.

It decided to rain in the morning but this did not dampen the beautiful journey along the north side of the lake. It was surrounded in mountains in such a way that it looked like a lake inside a massive caldera, so I wondered if it had been a volcano. As expected when we came to the end there was a climb over the edge and then a descent to Bursa, attractively situated at the base of a mountain. It was a fine city, the old part on a hill with wall extending round both sides. Although originally a much more ancient place it was now predominantly from the Ottoman era, being its first capital, with tombs of early sultans, two of which were very fine. There were the usual array of mosques, the Yeşil Camii and the Yeşil Türbe being the most spectacular. The centre of town throbbed with activity and the bazaar which could have occupied me for hours was particularly famed for its silk.

It was a most attractive drive along the coast with good views of the of Kapidag Peninsular and the Marmara