The road onward through Dogubayazit towards Erzurum was narrow and rough, with some gravel sections which were generally smoother to travel on than the potholed bitumen surfaces. There was widespread military activity in the area – troops training, tanks, anti-aircraft guns, convoys and checkpoints. The country was very beautiful, broad green valleys, roaring meltwater streams, snow-capped ridges and quaint villages, now with stone rather than mud brick buildings. Trees were very rare and the villagers seemed to cultivate a few in groves for timber.
We had not been overwhelmed by the welcome of the Turkish people. We regularly passed individuals on the wayside and found our reception quite disturbing. Some gestured that we give them a lift, followed by anger at our refusal (there was no room in the car). Others asked for money or cigarettes. A very few, mainly children, just waved and smiled. Not all children were so endearing, however. The boys’ favourite was stone throwing and the girls tended to poke out their tongue or spit.
Eastern Anatolia is a vast plateau with an elevation of about 6000 feet. After Erzurum we had the choice of continuing west directly to Ankara, or of diverting north and travelling along the Black Sea coast. We chose the latter route as it was reputed to have better roads. Beyond Askale we turned north. The road rose steeply to about 8500 feet, then descended to the pleasant town of Bayburt. The grades were up to 10% and the laden Fiat would not climb two steep pinches at the first try. With the passenger walking and the engine screaming in first gear, it still took three attempts at each hill to struggle over. Fortunately we were not reduced to unloading the car.
Next morning we found that the high engine revolutions had taken their toll on the Fiat’s distributor. I fitted new points but the engine still had a miss under load. From Torsul we began to climb steeply again in first gear in a series of zig zags to the Zigana Pass at 7000 feet. Progress was slow but the country was very beautiful. There were steep gorges and extensive pine forests, with alpine-style high-gabled houses clinging to the hillside and a roaring torrent below.
Trabzon, on the coast, was a small city, but we were more interested in the Black Sea as we had not seen the ocean since Bombay. We followed the steep coastline west towards the larger city of Samsun. We encountered some more stone throwing children and for the first time the car was hit. At our overnight camp site we were mobbed by other children wanting to try their limited English vocabulary. One of them attempted to steal a book of Stuart’s which was later recovered. Much of the way the road was carved out of sheer cliffs directly above the sea. In the many small inlets, fishing villages nestled around their mosque with the boats drawn up on the beach. All available level land was intensively cultivated.
At Samsun we headed inland through attractive undulating country, southwest towards Ankara, the capital of Turkey. Just 20 miles from our destination, we reached an important milestone, 10,000 miles had been covered by the Fiat since Colombo. We celebrated with a photograph of car and crew. Since we were well overdue for a bath, in Ankara we treated ourselves to a room in the comfortable Turist Otel, which had its own bath, shower and Western toilet, and importantly, unlimited, free, hot water! Bliss.
We found that the next day, 19th May, was a National Holiday. Ankara was decorated with the red and white Turkish flag and some buildings were draped with huge paintings of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk. The celebrations related to a landmark speech made by Ataturk 50 years earlier in Samsun, at the end of the First World War.
Ankara was a modern city, westernised in many ways, with broad tree-lined streets and delightful open air restaurants. We had already developed a taste for the delicious Turkish food. When we had difficulty understanding the menu, we would often be invited into the kitchen to choose our dishes from the steaming pots. Signs now used the familiar European alphabet, making the country seem less foreign, and the local radio station played continuous American music.
We pressed on to Izmit, on the Sea of Marmara, where we discovered that our fuel tank was leaking. After inspecting the leak, we decided to continue into Istanbul. We crossed the Bosphorus by ferry, as was necessary at that time, and entered into the worst traffic jam we had ever seen. The streets were narrow, steep and cobbled, so progress was slow. We finally found the Galata Bridge, crossed the Golden Horn and made our way to the western fringe of the city where we found the BP Mopark, a modern camping ground, although with European prices. The ground was crowded with multi-coloured continental tents, VW Kombi campervans and caravans. We were indeed now in Europe.
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