Driving Eastern Turkey Part 1: Ankara - Van

Of all the places to visit in Southeastern Turkey, the tiny village of Hasankeyf, might just be the oddest. The village, once the capital of the brief Artuklu kindom (1102-1232), found great prominence due to its location along major trade routes and on the banks of Tigris River. During its heyday, Hasankeyf had a large fortress built upon a tower of rock overlooking the river, a stone arched bridge that spanned the with of the Tigris at over 100 meters as well as numerous palaces, mansions, and mosques with minarets that reached to the sky, but its fortunes slowly started to decline and now the tiny village is almost an open air monument to a brief period of glory.

Set on the banks of the Tigris, but hidden inside of a small ravine, Hasankeyf is certainly one of the more picturesque villages in the region. Adding to its picturesque charm are the numerous caves carved into the limestone that were once used for housing and storage by the residents of Hasankeyf. On the steep walk up the rock face to the citadel, you will pass a number of these along the way, some of them converted into small restaurants and tea houses where you can stop if things get a little exhausting. The citadel itself lies mostly in ruin today, but the views are fantastic. From the top of the rock precipice, you can look down at the Tigris river as it comes around the bend, slowly carving its way into the rock below the castle. From the top you can also see the few remaining pylons of the once glorious bridge that connected Hasankeyf to the other bank. It is also from here that you will get the best view down the deep ravine that cuts back into the countryside, speckled with various cave houses along the way.

Back down in the town center (all three blocks of it) you will find a towering minaret, the only thing remaining of a once proud mosque. Elegantly carved out of limestone, the minaret today has little specks of green grass poking out of its cracks. Across from the minaret also lies a small path that you can climb up (watch out for donkeys) and reach the remains of a palace. Although not terribly impressive in itself, the views again are superb.

Other than a large tomb back across the river, there is not much else to do in Hasankeyf. There is a small hotel where you can bunk up for the night if you wish, and you will find the locals (almost all Arabs) overtly friendly and willing to accommodate you. In fact, this is the other small pleasure of Hasankeyf. It is a village and has a village feel to it. So pull up a chair, drink some tea, play some backgammon, and enjoy it.

Van, the ancient Urartian capital of Tushpa, the heart of the ancestral Armenian homeland, and home to the spectacular Van cats (Van kedileri) is a city, nestled in a lush and fertile plain between snow-capped mountains and the majestic Lake Van, is a city that has long attracted the admiration of visitors, and unfortunately, conquerors. Sadly, the most recent of these conquerors, the Russians completely leveled the city in World War I leaving nothing but piles of rocks that used to be churches, mosques and houses.

Today the city of Van is a banal modern city, rebuilt after the war on a simple grid plan just to the northwest of the old city. The city itself is uninspiring, but that doesn’t mean that it’s still not worth a visit, and do to its location conveniently at the eastern end of Lake Van, you will likely end up spending the night, and I recommend that you do, because there are still plenty of sights in the vicinity of Van to keep you occupied for a solid day or two.

In addition to the nearby sights of Akdamar and Hosap (see separate entries), the remains of the old city and the Urartian citadel on the shores of Lake Van are well worth a stop. The Urartians, an ancient kingdom dating to the 9th century BC once ruled over most of Southeastern Turkey, and are were the predecessors of the Armenians who moved into the region around the 7th century BC. Van was their capital and they built a large citadel atop the lone hill in the city of Van whose remains you can see today. What remains of the citadel are the walls and a few impressive gates. The area is a historic park that you have to pay to enter and is a popular spot for picnics among Van residents. Without a doubt the best time to go is just before sunset when you can sit atop the ruins, with a bunch of amorous couples and watch the sun sink behind the mountains and Lake Van to the west. It would be a perfectly romantic experience if it weren’t for the groups of adolescent Turkish lads eager to chat up foreigners.

From the citadel you can look down at what are now the overgrown remains of the odl city of Van. This was once a bustling city full of Kurds and Armenians, but thatnks to Russian invasions, all that remains today are two minarets, a crumbling church, and an outline of the walls. It’s rather depressing to look down at the large green plot of land that used to be a city and think about how many great monuments were lost, but the sight does have an eerie beauty.

The other thing Van is famous for is its cats, an extremely rare breed that lives only in Van and are recognizeable for their white coats and one green eye and one blue eye. They fetch thousands of dollars today, so seeing one is unfortunately unlikely.

Driving south from Urfa, the landscape slowly gives away to the Mesopotamian plain. What was once a brown, dry, relatively infertile land is slowly being changed as a part of Turkey’s ambitious Güneydogu Anadolu Projesi, or GAP, the Southeastern Anatolian Project. The project consists of a series of dams on the Euphrates and Tigris rivers designed to create artificial lakes that will be used to create millions of hectares of arable land. The project, which is drawing concern from environmentalists and the ire of Turkey’s southern neighbors, Syria and Iraq, has so far been a great success for the residents of southeastern Turkey. The area, mostly with disenfranchised Arabs and Kurds, has long been Turkey’s poorest region, but as the project brings in new investment and agriculture, those fortunes are starting to change. Therefore, what you see now as you drive south towards the Syrian border is vastly different from what you would have seen as little as 5 years ago. Old is giving way to modern as the brown land gives away to green. One place where you can still see vestiges of older southeastern Turkey is in the small town of Harran, just 10km from Syria.

Harran is another in a long line of religiously important cities in Turkey. Having been mentioned in the Bible, ancient Harran was where Rebecca found water for Jacob, and where the prophet Abraham, having been born just to the north, decided to move to Canaan. In ancient times, Harran was an extremely important city in the region, famous for its philosophers and thinkers, and is also near to the site where the ancient tablets carrying the Epic of Gilgamesh were found. Today, what remains of the ancient and medieval city of Harran is mostly walls and a palace, as well as the a few churches and mosques, but the reason people, albeit very few, come to Harran is because of the unique style of living shared by the inhabitants.

The inhabitants of Harran, related to those farther down the Euphrates Valley in Syria, have traditionally lived in what are often referred to as "Beehive houses." These mud-brick houses, held together with logs, take a conical shape and can actually be large elaborate structures with multiple rooms. They provide excellent abodes for this region because they are cool in Harran’s hot summers, but warm in the bitter winters. Although the majority of residents do not live in this style of house today (they are mostly used for storage) in the ruins of the old city, you can still find a cluster of them open for you to visit. They are set up for the specific purpose of tourism, but built the same as the traditional houses, and will provide you with an excellent idea of this ancient living style shared throughout the Mesopotamia. But don’t be surprised if a so-called "traditional house" turns out to be a rug shop. Harran gets very few tourists, so expect some extra attention from people trying to act as guides.

If a gigantic earthquake were to hit Turkey and Ephesus, the Haghia Sophia, and Blue Mosque were to all come crumbling down, I would hardly shed a tear. But if the island of Akdamar were to somehow sink into the icy waters of Lake Van and disappear forever, I would launch into a hysterical fit of mourning not seen since the mythical days of Dido.

Without a doubt, in a way I cannot even possibly hope to describe on paper, Akdamar Island in the waters of Lake Van, is my favorite place in all of Turkey, and one of the most sublimely beautiful locations I have ever beheld. Standing there on its rocky shores, beneath the blossoming cherry trees, staring out over the cobalt waters of Lake Van, it isn’t hard to understand why the Armenians loved this, their ancestral homeland so much. It is literally a slice of heaven.

As Armenian legend goes, a strapping young Armenian youth used to sail out to the island every evening in order to be with his beloved Tamar. One evening, however, a storm came and the boy, thrown overboard, drowned. With his final breath, before his lungs filled with the freezing water, he shouted "Ach, Tamar!" The name stuck, and it was called Aghtamar by the Armenians ever since (Turkified to Akdamar). Tamar, of course, devastated by the loss of such a striking young man and full of guilt like all mythical maidens who lose their beau, died soon after. As far as places to have secret romantic liaisons go, Akdamar is about as perfect as it gets.

The historical story of Akdamar starts in the late 8th century AD. The Armenians had long been at odds with the Byzantine Church, which wanted to bring them under their doctrinal control, but the Armenians wanted their independence. Enter the armies of the Muslim Arabs. The Arabs beat back the crippled Byzantine Empire and gained sovereignty over the lands of the Armenians who had welcomed their arrival. The Arabs, in a show of thanks allowed the Armenians a high level of autonomy and the Armenian prince Ashot Bagratuni, was granted rule over a kingdom stretching all the way to Ararat. Under the Arabs and the leadership of Ashot, Armenia witnessed a cultural and artistic revival, the result of which was the magnificent Church of the Holy Cross on Akdamar Island. Initially, the church was accompanied by a palace, but the palace is now gone.

Akdamar lies just off the southern coast of Lake Van, along the road between Tatvan to the west and Van to the east. It is only reachable by boat, which you can catch from a small landing along the main road. The boats leave when full and will cost about $2, paid on return. The island is popular with picnickers from Van on summer weekends, so it is best to avoid the weekends, unless you want to be escorted by swarms of screaming kids. I arrived in early May, when the surrounding mountains were still covered by snow and there was a slight wind that blew across Lake Van, but this turned out to be the perfect time. Spring was just arriving, and because of that, the numerous sour cherry trees scattered across the island were in full bloom, something that only lasts for about 2 weeks. Also, it was still chilly enough that the picnickers hadn’t arrived, and thus I was escorted by two lovely Turkish couples and two guys from Ankara on a brief tour of Eastern Turkey.

The trip across to the island takes about a half an hour, but is a beautiful ride. As you pull away from shore, your view of the lake opens up and you can see the surrounding mountains soaring majestically at over 2,000m along its shores. Approaching the island, the red stones of the Church of the Holy Cross will become visible, as will the blooming cherry trees. The island has no other development on it, save for a small building for restrooms and a couple of benches carved from wood. It is a protected area and one that the Turkish government, as well as the local Van government, has decided to put a lot of money into to preserve, most of it going to the restoration of the church.

The Church of the Holy Cross is the star of the island, and one of the most striking examples of Armenian religious architecture remaining. Its unique rose-colored stones were brought from just outside of Diyarbakir and are similar to the sort of stone found in other Armenian sights, such as Ani. The church, while not large, is still impressive. It follows a sort of clover-like plan, with four round naves forming a cross around a small center square. The central cupola is tall and narrow, typical of Armenian architecture, and shows the relative genius and skill of the Armenian architects. The Arabs, Selçuks, and Ottomans all recognized the unique ability of Armenian architects and employed them their early years to help build monuments, and thus many of the architectural features of this church can be seen reflected in later Selçuk and Ottoman monuments.

While the architectural style of the church is not unique in the Armenian world, the reliefs on the outside are. The whole outside of the church is decorated with carved scenes from the Old Testament, many of which you may recognize. This feature makes Akdamar’s church unique among Armenian churches and adds to the unique air of the island. Alongside the reliefs, you will notice something more common of Armenian churches: random scrawling by worshippers in the walls. All along the outside and the inside you will find prayers and names carved in Armenian on the walls, most of them accompanied by dates.

You will be free to stay on the island as long as you wish, and I advise that you do. If the weather is right and the sun is shining (like it was for me), the light pink tints of the cherry blossoms will blend in with the rose stones of the church, providing a stark contrast to the sky-tinted water, lush grass, and snow-capped mountains in the distance. The explosion of color will delight your camera lens as much as your eyes. My main suggestion: bring along someone you love, because sitting there in the sunshine beneath the blossoms, next to snuggling Turkish couples reliving the myth of Tamar, you are going to wish you had someone there to share this sight with as well.

Most people, if they know anything of Diyarbakir, only know of it as the center of Kurdish Turkey and the home to the bitterest fighting during the Kurdish separatist movement. However, if you come to Diyarbakir expecting to see bullet-ridden houses left in shambles by a mortar shell, be prepared for a shock. This is partly the image I had as neared the outskirts of the city on the road from Urfa. The media was partly to blame, but so were the Turks, many of whom, when I would tell them of my aspirations to visit Diyarbakir, would fill me with visions of a war-damaged cesspool. Imagine my surprise when, upon entering the city, I was greeted with a brand new sparkling mega mall and a Burger King.

Diyarbakir is an ancient city, full of history, but ever since the turn of the 20th century it has been one ripe with strife. The Selçuks gave the city its glory, and under the Ottomans it became center of power and wealth thanks to its mix of Muslim Kurds and Armenian Christians who gave the city a distinct feel and style. However, the city’s fortunes declined after the turn of the century as the Ottoman Empire started to crumble. Russia, ever hungry for Eastern Turkey stoked the nationalist aspirations the Armenians in an attempt to cripple the Ottomans. The Ottomans retaliated brutally and the local Kurds, ripe with their own ambitions turned on the Armenians as well. By the end of WWI, the city, which was almost half Armenian, was now almost emptied of them. From the end of WWI until the capture of Kurdish leader, Abdullah Ocalan in 1999, Diyarbakir witnessed the devastating effects of terrorism and an on-and-off separatist war with Turkey. Many of the residents of Diyarbakir today, however, seem eager to put that behind them, as does the Turkish government, which has pumped billions of dollars into rebuilding the area, mainly through the GAP project that has brought scores of new opportunities and money to Diyarbakir. That said, the chances of conflict resuming are always high, especially with the strife in neighboring Iraq, so any visit should be one of caution.

The possibility of conflict should not dissuade you from visiting this charming city. The citizens on the whole will welcome you openly, as they often realize that foreigners are more sympathetic to their past than Turks, and will be eager to show you around. Diyarbakir’s old city is its heart, a large maze of winding streets, houses, markets, churches and mosques all surrounded by towering black basalt walls. There is one central street that runs down the middle, the only straight street in the old city, which is home to most of the major sights of the old city. The 11th-century Ulu Camii, a former church that was gradually converted into a mosque with an elegant courtyard and striking façade that is reminiscent of the Umayyad Mosque in Damascus. Also on the main road is an old Caravansaray that has now been converted into a hotel and is the place to stay in Diyarbakir. If you don’t want to shell out the money to stay in one of its restored rooms, then you should at least stop in to admire the magnificent courtyard and have a quick drink.

Diyarbakir’s most striking features, and greatest testament to its past, are the citadel and city walls. The citadel, which features a mosque, basilica and palace is an impressive monument, but more enjoyable is the chance to walk around parts of Diyarbakir’s walls, something not to be missed. From atop the walls, the old city will present itself to you as the literal labyrinth of streets it is.

But as with any old city in the Middle East, the biggest treat is just wandering around. If you have a guidebook or pick up a map of Diyarbakir, throw it away. There is no way that any map will be able to help you once you turn off the main road, there are just too many streets and alleyways. Once you do turn off, though, you will undoubtedly stumble upon all sorts of treasures, such as mosques, churches, and a few old mansions that still retain their former glory. The kids playing football in the street with barrage you with shouts of "hello!" and sweet smell of roasting meat will float out of nearby restaurants.

My favorite memory of wandering around the old city was stumbling upong the ruins of an old Armenian church. I had noticed a small sign in Armenian on a rusty doorway and decided to head in. The door led to a courtyard that was now filled with somebody’s house, but right next to the house was a crumbling old church. I started to walk towards the church when I all of a sudden heard the chirp of a young female voice shouting at me in Turkish, "No, come this way!" She said. I turned around and found two young Kurdish girls waving for me to follow them, which I did. They took me in a back entrance to the church, and then to the main hall of the now roofless church. It was obvious that this was once a grand cathedral, but has now been left to the ravages of time and war. I started to walk into the courtyard, but the girl stopped me, "It’s dangerous," she said, "rocks will fall on you." So I pulled back and followed her up a stairwell to the top of the church where we could look down at its majestic hall filled with fading Armenian inscriptions. The sight was impressive and I was glad to stumble upon it. To thank the two girls I gave them a packet of cookies I had bought earlier, which the snatched smilingly and nibbled on with content.

I have no doubt that you’ll find a similar experience in Diyarbakir, a city eager to share itself with adventurous tourists to Turkey. It’s just sad that more Turks themselves don’t get out there to see it as well.

The city of Urfa, or Sanliurfa as it is known today (the term Sanli, which means "heroic" in Turkish, was added to commemorate the heroism of its citizens in the War of Independence) is perhaps the most fascinating and historic of all the cities in southeastern Turkey. The city, deep in the heart of Turkey’s Arab south, is one that without a doubt feels like it belongs more in neighboring Syria than Turkey, and for good reason. Urfa has long been a major city in the region, one whose days as an important trade center is still reflected in the cities thriving bazaar, a veritable maze of streets, mosques, and shops almost the equivalent of nearby Aleppo. Its citizens are mostly of Arab descent, and although most citizens, due to Turkey’s strict language laws (although they are loosening) speak Turkish on the street, most of them claim Arabic as their mother tongue.

It is a deeply historic city as well as a deeply religious one,. Locals call it "the city of prophets," and for good reason. Urfa not only lays claim to being the site of Job’s suffering, but the birthplace of Abraham, who is commemorated in a lovely park complex filled with mosques and rivers of carp. Many guidebooks and Turks will probably tell you that Urfa is the most conservative town in Turkey. I don’t buy it. It probably the most religious town, but I don’t believe that it is the most conservative. Most people just think it is because of its decidedly Arab feel and because of the numerous Iranian pilgrims that flood the cities holy sights. To me, though, it does not feel nearly as conservative as cities in the Anatolian heartland, like Kayseri or Sivas. There people seem conservative, but in Urfa, they just seem religious (which does carry an element of conservatism), but in general, the people seem much more open.

The center of attraction in Urfa is the absolutely lovely mosque complex and park surrounding Abraham’s cave. This oasis of green in the urban sprawl of modern Urfa is nothing short of charming on a sunny spring day (by summer, Urfa’s legendary heat makes it a bit harder). The park complex is built around a series of mosques, some new, some old, in what used to be part of the Old City of Urfa. Canals full of waterwheels and carp flow through the complex, and as tempting as it may be to feed them, do not. Signs (in Turkish only) warn visitors against "feeding the sacred carp." While I was there, one group of Iranian women, unable to understand the sign, started dumping in bread. Before even two pieces fell, the guard was rushing towards them, blowing on his whistle to get them to stop. The funny thing is that I know for a fact that 3 years ago, you were able to feed the fish without getting an earful of whistle, as everyone in town did it. The ban on feeding seems to stem less from the sanctity of the fish, but rather from their exponential population growth.

The highlight of the complex is the Abraham Mosque, built around the supposed cave of his birth. You are free to enter the mosque (a small donation is suggested), and once inside, you will find a small prayer room where you can touch the rock wall of the cave and admire dedicated worshippers bent over in solemn prayer.

Keeping watch over the mosque of Abraham is the city’s citadel, a large structure dating back to Byzantine times. You are free to walk up, and the views are well worth it, but the structure itself isn’t spectacular.

What most visitors to Urfa are most interested in after the mosques are the bazaars. While not the biggest in the Middle East, they are still large enough to lose yourself in them for an hour or two, and you will still be able to find plenty of handicrafts. It’s proximity to Syria allows Urfan traders to get the hands on a lot of stuff you won’t find in Istanbul, the best perhaps being the varieties of olive-oil soap from Aleppo.

Once you have had your fill of spirituality and shopping, it is time to take part in perhaps Urfa’s best offering, food. Urfa is famous all over Turkey for having some of the best food in Turkey, the standard favorite being the eponymous Urfa Kebab, lamb kebab made with eggplant, tomatoes, and peppers (see my entry on food for more info). You can get Urfa Kebab back in Istanbul, but it’s not the same. Down in Urfa, the spices are what make the dish.

When it comes to historical landmarks, Turkey is hard to beat. Ephesus, Haghia Sophia, Cappadoccia, Pergamum, Topkapi I would gladly trade all of them for Nemrut Dag. You can see Roman ruins all over the Mediterranean, you can see as impressive mosques and churches elsewhere, and the world is full of palaces greater than Topkapi, but there is only one Nemrut Dag.

Hidden deep in the mountains of southeastern Turkey, Nemrut Dag (Mt. Nemrut) is one of the most uniquely spectacular sights I have seen in all my travels and if you have heard anything about it before hand, you surely have one picture burned into your mind, gigantic stone heads. These stone heads, carved by Kommagenian worshippers thousands of years ago and placed almost 3,000 meters atop the sacred Mt. Nemrut, are certainly a spectacular sight and one of the symbols of Turkey, but they are just one part of Mt. Nemrut National Park.

The National Park spans a gigantic area of southeastern Turkey, covering mountains and valleys full of historic treasures dating from 10,000 BC to the Crusades and with your own transport, they are yours to explore at will.

If you are coming from Urfa or Malatya, you will approach Mt. Nemrut through a green valley that is the heart of Turkey’s natural gas industry. The landscape on the approach, dotted with oil pumps and boom towns, unfortunately gives you no impression of the unrivaled natural beauty you are about confront in Mt. Nemrut, but thankfully the area is protected so that the gas craze cannot encroach any farther. Leaving the boom towns behind, you are presented with two roads to Mt. Nemrut, one is the direct road up the mountain to the site of the Kommagenian heads, this is the route that the tour groups love to take and the one that, if you have your own trasport, would be crazy to take, because the left fork takes you on a winding road through valleys of flowing green grass and rivers hiding ancient castles, bridges, and cities, all tragically (but luckily for you) left behind by the few tour groups that venture out this far.

The first sight along the way is a smaller version of Mt. Nemrut itself, an oldKommagenian burial mound that features a few towering stone columns topped by busts of eagles as well as a few stone lion heads strewn about the grass. The heads themselves are impressive, but the view is the most spectacular, especially in early spring when the plains are full of long grass speckled with the occasional red poppy.

Moving on from the burial mound you will eventually arrive at the bridge of Septimius Severus (Cendere Köprüsü), named after the Roman emperor who built it. The multi-arched stone structure stretches over a small Euphrates tributary as it comes pouring out of the mountains, carving a deep ravine along the way. The bridge has been aptly restored and you can walk over it, but a modern bridge has been built nearby for motorized traffic.

Moving on from the bridge you will soon be greeted by long set of castle walls, snaking their way along a rock precipice. This is Eski Kahta (Old Kahta). Originally the site of a Kommagenian palace, the structure that stands today is a Mameluke castle that dates back to the Crusades. Upon arrival you may find the castle locked, but don’t despair, the gatekeeper lives in the town at the foot of the castle. Most likely he will come wondering up in his suit and tie a few moments after you show up, but if not, just find some one in town and ask, they’ll hunt him down for you. Luckily the gatekeeper also doubles as a guide, but like many places in Eastern Turkey, without Turkish, I don’t know how much you will learn. Either way, he will show you the hidden parts of the castle that you might have missed other wise, sights like the hidden tunnel leading the river that was used to gather water during sieges. Climbing around the crumbling walls it’s hard not to wonder just how they managed to build such a structure along these craggy cliffs. Without a doubt the castle gets an ‘A’ for strategic location. When we finished up inside the castle we thanked the gatekeeper and handed him a tip, which he politely refused saying he was happy just to have someone come.

Moving on from Eski Kahta, the road will begin its long slow wind up to the top of Mt. Nemrut, passing along the way, the ruins of an ancient Urartian city. The Urartians came after the Komagenians and are responsible for much of the development of the area around Mt. Nemrut. Among the remains of this ancient city are numerous exquisitely carved statues, the remains of a fortress, and the highlight, a large stone engraved with Urartian writing that marks the entrance to an ancient tunnel. The real glory of the ancient city, though, lies in the views which look out over the castle of Eski Kahta and the river valley below. From the citadel of the city you should also be able to see Mt. Nemrut, likely with its top shrouded in cloud.

From the Urartian city, the road winds its way high up into the mountains, first on pavement, then gravel, dirt, and then finally cobblestone. The views are nothing short of spectacular as you slowly push your way up to the top. Eventually you will come upon a small building with a ticket office and a deck. This is as far as you go by car. The last 500 feet are on foot along a rocky path that circles around the tip of Mt. Nemrut. The top of the mountain contains two sets of Hittite statues. One is on the West, side, the other on the East. On our visit (early may), the west side was baked in sun making it t-shirt weather, but the east side, neglected by the sun, was covered in snow, making passage difficult.

The high altitude may leave you a little winded, but you will be amply rewarded by the 5 nearly 10-meter-tall statues awaiting you and their eerily severed heads strewn about below. This ancient sanctuary was originally designed to merge the divine worlds of the Persian and Roman religions, a reflection of the unique Kommagenian culture. Here you will find Gods such as Apollo and Zeus, as well as the King himself. The sheer size of the statues calls to mind serious questions about just how they managed to build them at 2,200 meters, no doubt an impressive feat.

From the East Terrace you can continue around to the West terrace where you will find another set of statues, 15 of them to be exact, and plenty of heads. In this sanctuary you will find such great kinds as Darius, Xerxes and Ptolemy as well as numerous other carvings scattered about. On the West terrace, just as on the East, the views over the Taurus Moutnain range are nothing short of breathtaking.

Hopefully, if you ever make it to Mt. Nemrut, you will find yourself alone at the top surrounded by the limestone ghosts of kings past, because the sheer majesty of the place lies in its seclusion. This was once a holy sanctuary and the thought of it flooded with tours like Ephesus is sad, but probably inevitable. As things settle down in Southeastern Turkey and hungry tourists push east looking to escape the crowds of Western Turkey, Mt. Nemrut is bound to fall pray the the crowds. But until then, it’ll remain a place of quiet mystification that is truly awesome (in the original sense of the word).

Unfortunately our visit was cut short as hail storm took us by surprise, forcing us to flee in our car. A reminder that even in May, the road to Nemrut may be blocked due to icy weather.

The drive from Kayseri to Malatya may just be one of my favorite drives in all of Turkey. The road is a long and straight two lane highway that rolls along the Anatolian steppe surrounded by towering snow-capped mountains to the south and north. As you head East, the dry, brown, extraterrestrial landscape of Cappadoccia gives way to tolling hills dusted with specks of green grass and herds of grazing sheep. In Medieval times this was an important trade route connecting Eastern Turkey and Persia with the ports and cities of Western Anatolia and all along the road, old caravansaray’s, (some crumbling, some still in visitable shape) mark the points along the road where traders bunked for the night.

Turkey does a rather good job of posting signs along its roads, signs for distance and direction, but as well as signs for tourist sights. In fact, Turkey probably over does it and posts signs for basically every single historical sight you could conceivably want to stop at, making it a bit hard to decipher which ones are actually worth the time, and since most guide books only gloss over this section of Turkey, you won’t find any help in them. In Turkey (like the US) the historical sights are marked with brown signs and will say things like "Ancient Hittite Dam 5km" or "16th-century Caravansaray 10km."

On my road trip my travel partner and I decided that we would stop at every brown sign we saw, unless we were really pressed for time (which was rare). After all, this trip was about seeing as much of Eastern Turkey as we could and there was no real plan except to just go. So that is what we did and this section of road was a goldmine. About a half an hour outside of Kayseri we stumbled upon a caravansaray about an hour later there was an old Hittite dam dating from the 10th century BC. The highlight, however, was probably a tomb and mosque built for a local holy man about an hour from Malatya. The mosque was a relatively new construction, but was built straddling a river and was full of fountains and marble. The place was full of families out for picnics and adorable little kids running around enjoying the pools of water that flowed through the courtyard of the mosque. To the side was a bridge and waterwheels. While there was nothing really historic about the place, or anything that should have been of interest to us personally, the mosque was in an beautiful secluded setting and it was a chance to mix in with locals and it was one of those rare moments where we could stand there and think "There is a good chance that we are the first tourists to ever visit this place," something that is rare in these days of global tourism. Moments like that are why I suggest that if you decide to take your own Turkish road trip, always leave time for impromptu chances to follow brown signs.

The final hour of the drive to Malatya takes you out of the Anatolian steppe and up into the mountains. When you eventually crest the mountains you are greeted by a sprawling lush green valley and the city of Malatya. Malatya is the center of apricot production in Turkey and its apricots are famous the world over. As you descend into the valley you will notice (if the season is right) huge orchards of apricot trees spouting out of the ground, bearing their orange fruit. All along the road you will find stand hawking fresh, homemade apricot products ranging from jam to dried apricots to tart apricot roll-ups. To stop and sample some would be a crime.

Malatya lies in the heart of the valley and at the foot of a range of mountains towering over 2,000 meters. This is still relatively conservative country for Turkey, but its agricultural wealth gives it a more modern feel than Kayseri. While there is not much to do or see, it’s a convenient place to spend the night and prepare for a trip up to Mt. Nemrut.

As you drive east out of Cappadoccia, make sure to wave to the tour buses as they pass by, as this is the last you will see of them for a long time. Cappadoccia marks the Eastern frontier of tourist-market Turkey, a borderland between the tourist-oriented destinations of western Turkey and the tourist-neglected area of eastern Turkey. From now on, don’t expect fancy hotels or package tours offering to show you "traditional Turkish life," because you are about to enter it. To Turks, the Anatolian heartland, the area east of Ankara, is the home to the real Turks, the ones who fought for independence in 1921, the ones who still herd their sheep, work the land, and value family and blood above all else. This is the symbolic heart of Turkey, a place where the ultra-nationalist Nationalist Movement Party (MHP) and the Islam-tinged Peace and Justice Party (AKP) compete for the hearts, minds, and votes of the Turkish masses. Just as any American politician must appeal and win over the South if he wants to be president, so must any aspiring Turkish Prime Minister carry the Anatolian heartland if he wants to stand a chance. Keep this in mind as you head out from Cappadoccia towards such symbolic Turkish towns as Sivas, Kayseri, and Malatya. Istanbul may be Turkey’s face to the world, but Anatolia is its heart.

Upon leaving Cappadoccia to the east, the first city you will stumble upon is the venerable Kayseri, an old Selçuk stronghold with an old city dating back to the 11th century, when the Selçuk army, fresh off a victory of the Byzantines at Manzikert, overran the crumbling Empire and began the long processes of Turkifying Anatolia.

Coming into Kayseri from Ankara, the first thing you will notice is that the city immediately has a much more conservative feel that the secular capital. Kayseri and the surrounding area is the most devoutly Muslim part of Turkey. The majority of women will be kapali (wearing a headscarf), and the city will seem slightly more disorganized and chaotic than the rest of Turkey. This is the beginning of a trend as you head to the southeast, in which you will slowly feel more like you are in the Middle East than western Turkey.

Without a doubt, you will immediately notice that you will get a few more stares or curious glances as you make your way around Kayseri, and it may make you feel uncomfortable at first, but you shouldn’t pay too much attention to it. You have to understand that they don’t get a lot of tourists around these parts. I would say that 90% of tourists to Turkey don’t make it past Cappadoccia, and the other 9.99% will skip over this region of Turkey and head for the slightly more traveled parts of the southeast. Thus, tourists are an extreme novelty in this part of central Turkey. The one nice thing you will discover, however, is that since there is no tourist industry, you won’t have the hordes of touts chasing after you like in Istanbul or Ephesus. If someone does try to talk to you, it’ll be out of mere curiosity than anything else.

In terms of sights, Kayseri is a veritable heaven for those (like me) fascinated by medieval Islamic empires and architecture, but if that’s not exactly your cup of tea (as I’m sure it isn’t for most of you), the city should still manage to impress you enough to make a 2-hour stop worthwhile. Kayseri is home to some of the oldest mosques in Anatolia, the mother of them all being the 11th-century Ulu Camii, a perfect model of Selçuk architecture with its low arched ceilings, black basalt walls, and grand entrance way. This was before the Ottomans revolutionized the dome and mosques were held up by a gauntlet of arches and pillars. Most likely, one of the caretakers will escort you along and do his best to explain things, although if you don’t know Turkish, you may not learn much. Still, the mosque will impress upon you an air of quiet reflection, and it will be hard not to notice the maze of pillars designed to impress upon worshippers the infiniteness of God.

Beyond the mosque, Kayseri is home to a large bazaar that winds its way along the walls of the old city. While not immediately impressive as Kapalçar in Istanbul, it isn’t as museum-like and has the chaotic feel more reminiscent of those found in the Arab world. There isn’t much their that you’ll probably want to buy, but it’s definitely worth a look.

Kayseri in general is a chaotic maze of stone and metal, not exactly the most picturesque of towns, but there is one haven of peace and quiet in town and that is the central park. The park is a haven of green in Kayseris urban landscape and home to various pools and bridges full of young couples seeking a few moments of privacy. The park is also home to a small museum on Islamic medicine. Housed inside a medieval hospital, the museum displays works by Muslim scientists and doctors who were advancing the understanding of the human body while Europe was still relying on leeches to cure diseases. There are also a few instruments and dioramas that make the museum worth a visit.

Beyond that, there is not much else to see in do in Kayseri, but if you are driving East from Ankara or Cappadoccia, it is definitely worth a stop not just for its Selçuk monuments, but because it will give you a taste of Turkey’s conservative Turkish heartland, something most tourists skip. And although I don’t recommend you spend the night, if you have to, Kayseri is now home to (inexplicably) a sparkling new Hilton Hotel, and of course, there are plenty of small hotels where you can get rooms on the cheap.

Leaving Ankara and passing by the muddy shores of Tuz Gölü (Salt Lake), the first sight of major interest that you will stumble upon the venerable Cappadoccia (Kapadokya), the mythical "land of the horses." High up on the Anatolian Plateau, the barren hills of Cappadoccia seem like something more out of a fantasy novel than a prime tourist destination, but it is one of Turkey’s more spectacular and visited sights. It is a land full of mysterious rock formations and underground cities used by medieval Byzantines as safe havens during times of attack. A land full of UNESCO Heritage sights, in Cappadoccia, you will undoubtedly delight as you wend your way through underground castles, admire the radiant frescoes of cave churches, and climb the rock citadel of Üçhisar. Sure, the crowds of tour buses can frustrate as a hoard of Japanese, German, or British package-tourists barge their way into a church you were admiring in solitude, but the sights themselves are worth it, and if you plan it right, you can avoid the crowds as much as possible.

The main attractions of Cappadoccia are, without a doubt, the underground cities. There are numerous cities spread throughout the whole area of Cappadoccia, but the two post important and most impressive are Derinkuyu and Kiymali. These two sites are layers upon layers of winding underground tunnel (most of which you may have to kneel through) connecting, large rooms; churches; and storage areas. Each of these cities were, at their height, designed to hold thousands of people underground in safety while invading armies pillaged above. Their construction is an absolute wonder. Each city consists of ventilation shafts that run down the centers of the cities, providing all with fresh air, as well as latrines and underground wells, meaning that people could stay down here for years if they had to. The entranceways are mazes of narrow, short tunnels designed to confuse and clog invading armies, and each entrance could be blocked off in an instant with a gigantic stone door.

Unfortunately, because these are the most impressive cities, they are the most crowded, and there is plenty of chance that you may get stuck in a small underground room with 50 Italian tourists, a claustrophobe’s nightmare. I find it best to show up either at opening, around 8:30 am, while the tour groups are still eating breakfast, or just before close, around 4:30pm, when the tour buses are at the local carpet factories paying too much for sub-par carpets. The good news is that if you are on your own with your own transport and just want to get a taste of the underground cities, there are plenty of other smaller versions that will feature hardly a tourist in sight. They won’t be as impressive, but you can still get an idea.

Beyond the underground cities, Cappadoccia features a host of other sights that are just as worth a visit. One of these is the Göreme Open Air Museum, a large set of cave churches carved into sandstone faces just outside of the town of Göreme. Again, this is a major stop on the tour bus circuit, but it is a worthwhile stop nonetheless because it features some absolutely fantastic rock churches with immaculately conserved frescos. The trick, though, lies in timing your visit just right so that you don’t get stuck with a bunch Japanese tourists inside a church.

Off the major tourist route in Cappadoccia lies the Ilhara Valley, a large green valley and home to some of the most spectacular churches in the region. Many tour buses will stop just to have a look at one or two, but because the valley is long and reaching many of the churches involves a lot of hiking, they miss most of them. If it’s not too hot and you are up to it, you can trek the whole valley in about 3 hours. Then, on your way back to town, you can hit up the Selçuk Caravansaray to get an idea of what it was like when trade caravans would regularly plow through the region and stop here for the night.

The last major sight of Cappadoccia is Üçhisar, a large tower of sandstone that was converted into a fortress by the inhabitants of the region. They literally carved their way into the rock, making stairs and rooms, and turned it into a large fortress with commanding views of the whole region. The views from the top are undoubtedly one of the highlights. Unfortunately, it’s also popular with the tourists, and therefore the entrance is flooded with numerous touts.

Capadoccia, despite the hordes of tourists, is one of the highlights of any trip to Turkey. It is a region and site unique to Turkey, and something that you’ll be hard pressed to find anywhere else. Two days should be enough to give you a good feel for the area, although with an abundance of great accommodation, you may want to stay longer.

It was just the second day of the road trip, and I was finally getting over my initial nervousness and fears of driving in Turkey. I had driven in numerous Middle Eastern countries, from Syria to Morocco to the UAE, and thus I considered myself rather well equipped to handle the intricacies of driving in Turkey. We had just left Kayseri and were cruising along, with all the might that our Ford Fiesta could muster, towards the city of Malatya. The road was flat and in good shape, so I cruised along at a cool 110 kph while the Anatolian steppe whizzed by. Then I came over a hill and immediately noticed a car sitting at the bottom with a man standing next to it. It was a police car. I pressed on the brakes and slowed the car, hoping that I was safely within any limits. Throughout the whole drive, I had never seen a single speed-limit sign throughout the whole drive, so I had no idea what the speed limit was, if any. As I came to the bottom of the hill, one of the police officers stepped out into the middle of the road and motioned for me to pull over. I complied.

The officer walked up to the car, gave me a gunaydin (good day), and then asked for my papers. I reached into the glove compartment and grabbed the papers the rental agency had given me, as well as my license and passport, and handed them to the officer. He looked them over and then asked,

“You are American?” I replied that I was. He looked at me perplexed, “But you speak Turkish?” I replied that I had studied in Turkey and therefore had picked it up. Satisfied, he began to explain that I was speeding and that he would have to give me a fine. At this, I launched into my “stupid foreigner” defense. I had been pulled over in Turkey once before, 2 years ago, and the cops tried to extract the equivalent of $300 out of my poor friend who was driving and spoke no Turkish. I had to come to the rescue and suck up to the officers in Turkish (which ultimately worked), and we escaped with just a $20 fine. So that’s what I did this time. “How fast was I going?” I asked.

”105,” He replied.

”And what is the speed limit?” I asked again.”99 kph,” He replied.

I then started telling them that I had never seen a sign stating what the speed limit, so how was I supposed to know what the speed limit was? To that, he replied that the speed limit isn’t really official, but everyone knows what it was and the police set up these speed traps and pull over anybody going faster than 99. I told him that that seemed a little ridiculous and how is a foreigner like me supposed to know that. He admitted that it was odd, but explained that Turkey implemented this new system in order to cut down on the number of deaths by car accident, one of the highest in the world.

“So your fine is 95 YTL ($75),” he said, “Can you pay that now?” At that moment, the thoughts of the officers trying to extract money from my friend 2 years ago came back. I thought it was happening again. I told him that that is ridiculous. I said that I had no money on me now, only 20 YTL, and showed it to him. I then pleaded with him. “I was only going 6 kph over the limit! In the US, no police officer would pull you over for that!” I politely told him, and then pulled out my showstopper, “I think you’re only doing this because I’m foreign!” I told him. To that he chuckled and then pulled out a thick pad full of written-up tickets and showed them to me. There had to be 100, all from today. He had pulled people over for going as little as 100 kph, and they were all Turks. “I pull over everybody,” he said, “and all their fines are the same.” Indeed, they were all 95 YTL. “Plus,” he added, “you speak Turkish; you know this country. You should know better.”

That was it; he had me. I conceded and asked where I could pay the fine. He said that I had 1 month and could pay it at any bank. He then asked me if I had any other questions about driving in Turkey or the fine. I told him no. He then asked if there were any problems with the car. I told him no. And with that he smiled, told us to have a good trip, and then sent us on our way.

The difference between my two ticket experiences, 2 years ago and this trip, were striking. Turkey is obviously cleaning up its act. This officer didn’t have a hint of corruption on him, and only had the strongest air of professionalism. He treated me with dignity and respect, and this was something I would come to notice was prevalent in all the Turkish officials I met along the way. Of course, getting pulled over was no fun, but he made it about as fun as it could be. Needless to say, I stayed within 99 kph from then on and had no troubles. Also, I soon noticed that other drivers will flash their lights to warn of impending speed traps - always good to know. So here are my suggestions of what to do if pulled over:

1. Stay calm.

2. Be polite and smile a lot.

3. Never pay the fine on the spot.

4. Always make sure you are given a paper ticket to take to the bank. This is mandatory procedure, and it is illegal for the police to not give you the paper ticket.

The food of southeastern Turkey is celebrated all over Turkey as the pinnacle of Turkish cuisine. It is known for its generous use of flavorful spices, especially the dried red pepper (kirmizi biber) that gives southeastern food its trademark kick. Istanbul Turks are notorious wimps when it comes to heat, and many of them will whine about how hot the dishes from the southeast are, and while they certainly pack a punch, don’t expect the heat levels you will find in northern India, Sichuan, or Thailand. Still, though, the food is one of the highlights of traveling in the southeast, as it draws on culinary trends from northern Syria and the local Kurdish and Armenian traditions. This is also Turkey’s agricultural heartland and where you will find some of the freshest produce, all of which adds to the succulent flavors of southeastern cuisine.

Many of the prize dishes of the southeast are available all around Turkey, but they will never taste as good in Istanbul as they do here, mostly because the spices aren’t as fresh and they have to tone it down for the dull Istanbul palate. Two of these dishes are Adana Kebab (named for the town of Adana) and Urfa Kebab (named for Urfa).

Adana kebab consists of succulent ground lamb mixed with spices, put around a shish (skewer), and grilled. The kebab is then smothered in a red-pepper paste and served with grilled flatbread also smothered in red pepper, along with onions, parsley, and sumac on the side, a symphony of heat and flavor. It’s basically the same as Aleppo Kebab if you have ever been to Syria.

Urfa Kebab is the same spiced lamb as in Adana kebab, but they are smashed into small patties and then put on a skewer with eggplant (patlican) and tomatoes (domates). It is then served to you on the skewer with flatbread, parsley, sumac, and onions. The trick, however, is eating it in the correct way. What you do is lay down some flatbread, then take a piece of eggplant and peel off the skin. Then put the roasted eggplant onto the flatbread, smoosh it with a fork, and spread it around. Do the same with a tomato. Then take your patty of lamb and place it on top. Sprinkle with parsley, onions, sumac, and some red pepper and then roll it all up and take a bite. It is by far the best dish out there.

In addition to this, you will find many locally grown products that are well worth sampling. The city of Gaziantep is the pistachio center of Turkey. So connected are pistachios to Antep that they call them Antep fistigi in Turkish (literally Antep nut). They are featured in a lot of desserts, or you can just buy them from a nut seller to eat plain. Either way, they are scrumptious.

Malatya is Turkey’s apricot center, and if you are there in early spring, you will find people selling all sorts of freshly made apricot products. From jam to dried apricot roll-ups, they are guaranteed to be some of the best you will ever have.

Another southeastern city, Kahramanmaras, is famous for its unique ice cream. The residents of this region have been producing ice cream (dondurma) longer than almost anyone on the planet. This is no ordinary ice cream, but is a thick concoction that you can almost chew. It is made by using a long metal mallet and kneading the ice cream in a frozen metal container. During summer, ice-cream makers line all the streets of the southeast, kneading away. The most standard flavours are vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, and pistachio. I recommend a pistachio and chocolate blend.

Those are just a few of the culinary delights of the southeast, but it goes much deeper than that, so experiment and never be afraid to ask! You are guaranteed to find a few culinary treasures. It is in the southeast where you can really see why Turkish food is considered one of the most developed and admired cuisines in the world.