Here comes Nuray - time to head off
Crossing the Marmara Sea by ferry
A child looks towards the south coast of the Marmara Sea
Rusen and Nuray on board the ferry
A child tries a bike too big for him
Tariq driving at night
The moon lights up our night
 
The mad vehicle has lost a wheel
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Heading straight east out of Istanbul, we drive along the Sea of Marmara until we catch a ferry to cross it and save time. The pleasure of travelling in non-Western countries comes back to me when I eat a simit (a kind of pretzel) and a hot corn from passing sellers, as we await the ferry. The crossing is smooth and blessed by the soft light of a slowly setting sun. An old man insists on spraying my hands with Cologne as I walk out of the men's toilets, and gratifies me with the generous smile of someone happy to share his country's traditions. His shiny eyes and wrinkles resonate inside me even as I have already moved on to return to the journey. Young men are singing and beating the rhythm on the railings, people exchange kind glances and smiles. We continue our drive along the old imperial capital of Bursa, my hands smelling strongly of the cologne. I wonder if this will be the perfume of the whole trip, or if I will manage to stay clear of it the next times. Tariq takes over driving - we are well into the night and still have some way to go to make it to the Aegean coast. Freed from her duty, Nuray begins to sing traditional Turkish songs, in a soft melancholic voice. From time to time, Peri and Rusen join their voice to the tunes - we move smoothly through the darkness. When we reach the village of Zeytinli, famous for its olive oil, we are greeted by a man who escorts us by motorcycle to a small village where Fulya was attending a local wedding. A close friend of Rusen, she has come to this part of the country to take a break from the hassles of the big city, and is helping out for the summer at a camping site we are about to discover. First of all, however, we need to get there, and the bumpy and rocky dirt road is as difficult at times as the reward at the end is bound to be worthwhile. The motorcycle breaks down, so the man runs off to get another vehicle: an unlikely small tractor with a trailer. Amused, Rusen joins Fulya at the back, as we follow in the car. We manage to keep up with them until we spot them in a bend with one of the wheels having come off. Laughter is general at this surreal scene. Beneath the moonlight, we slowly carry on, all the way up to the campsite. We can hear the gentle flow of a lovely stream, and see the famous tree houses built up in pine trees. After some food and drinks amidst the telling of tales amongst the friends, we retire to surprisingly comfortable rooms for a unique night of rest.
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Turkey road 