Bozcaada/race/Istanbul redux

I am bereft of my proofreaders as I enter this last post from Turkey in a room at the Istanbul Airport Holiday Inn.  Nate drove back to Ravda yesterday morning, and Chuck flew back to Boston shortly thereafter.  I could not get a ticket on the same flight with Chuck, so I have abided another day with the Turks, a "good thing".

The Sunday tour of Bozcaada was well worth it, despite overcast weather for a good part of the day.  There are two notable islands at the mouth of the Dardenelle Strait on the Aegean side, Imros and Bozcaada.   Massive and mountainous, Imros is off the north shore of the Gallipoli peninsula on the European side.  We had many good views of it from the bus.  Off the Asian coast not far from Troy, Bozcaada is smallish (40 sq km) with a single hill and Ottoman fort at one end, and windswept fields covering the rest. An early Turkish wind farm is co-located with an old lighthouse that we weren't able to see because "there was nobody there to let us in", a rare lapse by the Turkish tourism folks.  It was the closest I had been to so many active turbines, and I have to admit that the thrumming vibration was disconcerting.  These 17 turbines looked puny compared to the massive ones that dominate the landscape nearly everywhere you go in the vicinity of the Marmara Sea.

Bozcaada is a popular summer beach destination for Turks, and the population swells to many times the year round number of 2500.  Of the 15 beaches available our bubbly guide "Izzy" (not his real name) took us to Ayazma, a municipal beach in a protected cove where Homer says Achilles hid his ships while laying in wait for the Trojan Horse ruse to fulminate.  We had a beautiful swim with some Aussie fellow racers and a couple of their supporters.  The water was quite a bit colder than the Hellespont.  Aussie "Phil" called it "spanner water" for its nut-tightening effect.  Very funny folk those Aussies.

I was having tea with Izzy on the ferry back from Bozcaada when he suddenly got excited (for the thousandth time) and asked "Do you feel the change in the weather?".  I said "I guess so", and didn't think much of it.  Later that evening at the final pre-race briefing (never had a swimtrek group been better prepared than us) our fearless leader Simon said they were expecting  a 15 knot NE wind for the race, still daunting.

After a night of flying dreams for Chuck, the next morning we looked out the hotel window and could not believe our eyes.  Zero wind.  The trees were still bent over from all the battering, creating an optical illusion of wind, but they were still.  The sky was clear, and we were ecstatic.

The Hellespont was toast.  It is a technical swim, and you have to be careful to play the currents right, but in the perfect conditions we had it was pure pleasure, and never once did I feel any doubt about making it across.  Needless to say, Nate, Chuck and I completed the course with reasonable but not competitive times.  To put our achievement in perspective, an 11 year old boy from Boston who has been swimming open water with a private coach for a year completed the course.

Nate by dint of his good form and straight swimming finished first among the college buddies.  I managed to stay with him for about 40 minutes, taking advantage of his watch to change course to new sightings at the proper moments, but, as I knew from previous swims would happen, as I tired I started veering sharply left.  Nate understandably let me "go my own way" and we were separated for the second half of the swim.  No worries for me though because a wildly gesticulating Izzy showed up a couple of times in one of the safety boats (fishermen from Chanakkale) and kept me on course to the finish.  Chuck the Hammer powered across with his patented combination of breast stroke and freestyle, and as he came in to the finish he smartly breaststroked past several struggling freestylers.

We didn't have much time to celebrate in Chanakkale, and after a four hour drive to Istanbul, plus an extra hour in rush hour traffic after overshooting our exit, we checked into this artful Holiday Inn.  After a scrumptious buffet dinner and a few glasses of Glenmorangie we laughed ourselves to sleep.

Yesterday I did not feel abandoned after Nate and Chuck left as I still had the Turks, who are truly wonderful.  After watching Chuck disappear into the bowels of Attaturk, I boarded the metro and rode most of the T1 line to Galata Tower.  After a short climb up steep streets, a bit of a line, and a $9 elevator ride, I was snapping away at the Istanbul skyline from a precarious catwalk.  I did not bother with the tower-top cafe or restaurant. I shopped my way down the same steep streets, and then walked across the metro bridge over the Golden Horn.  Many fisherman were casting bits of bread and hauling in buckets of what appeared to be sardines.  I joined a throng of Turks at the other end for lunch, a sardine sandwich grilled on one of three ornate boats docked there.  Quite a scene.  I completed my shopping expedition at the nearby Spice Market, where a talented porcelain merchant named Haji reeled me in for what I am sure was a very good profit.  The tram ride back to the airport was long and hot, but the Turks suffered this ugly American with good patience, and I might say even concern, as they had throughout our sojourn.  What a people, what a trip.

limbo day

Every day is different, and now all three of us have decided to stay and race tomorrow.  Nate changed his mind after yesterday's "fun swim" (with posted times go figure), saying his appetite for racing had been whetted.  Chuck and I made our decision after checking with our wives and making sure the travel arrangements were reasonable.

Last night's "post-race dinner" was anti-climactic, but the colorful sunset over the water from downtown Canakkale, and the Turks out in force enjoying their Independence Day made it a memorable evening.  The main event was a Tae-kwon-do competition held in a circular pit/amphiteatre on the seaside esplanade.  Chuck's ever-exploring ear led us to a group of Sufi musicians nearby consisting of an adult male playing a Turkish flute as three boys beat various percussion instruments.

So here we are in a lull between race dates.  Today, Sunday, we're going to the Aegean island of Bozcaada.  Hopefully it will be sunny over there.  It is overcast and blustery here in Canakkale this morning, and the Hellespont continues to look uninviting, but come tomorrow it's toast :-).

Race Postponed to Monday

Saturday morning, Turkish National Victory Day: for the first time in the 28 year history of the race, it has been postponed due to weather.  Gale force winds are whipping through here today.  They think they will be able to hold it Monday.  Chuck and I are weighing our options, while Nate seems ready to abandon mission due to time constraints.  He has to drive back to Ravda, pack up for end of season, perform some bureaucratic chore, then fly out on Wednesday.  Understandable.

Swimtrek is putting on a 3km fun swim along a protected segment of the Asia shoreline in Canakkale this morning, and we will participate in that.  They will also follow through on the post race dinner tonight in town.

As for tourism, yesterday the Troy visit was quite exciting (for me anyway), as even though the site holds no single architectural marvel, the layers of uncovered history spanning 3500 years are quite compelling, especially when they're capably overlaid with the story of Heinrich Schliemann and. of course, the Iliad, by a passionate guide such as our Erdem (aka Adam).  "Was the Trojan horse real or a myth?  You decide."

We dined al fresco on the Hellespont bank last night at a fish restaurant just down the street from the hotel.  There was a spectacular wedding going on, but we were allowed to eat with the general public in a side section and ogle the proceedings.  The western-gowned bride (maybe we saw her Thursday in Sultanahmet?), the band, the female vocalist/dancer, the traditional men dancers, and the salsa dancers (yes, salsa cubana) were all top notch by any standard.

Thinking about going to Ephesus tomorrow.

At the Hellespont, Hotel KOLIN, Asia side

The last two days have been all over the map, in many senses.  Wednesday in Ravda was idyllic, with another training swim in the morning (technical focus: drafting), a lazy mid-day of laundry and lounging, and a late afternoon expedition by Chuck and Hal to Nessebor, a world heritage site slightly farther east up the Black Sea coast.  Nessebar is a small island, now connected to the mainland by a causeway, upon which the Bulgar Christians of the past built an inordinate number of churches, some say as many as 40, over the centuries since the early Byzantine Empire.  Ten still remain as archaelogical sites, and Chuck and I entered St. Stephen, a small 10th century 3 nave basilica housing a gorgeous array of 15th and 16th century wall paintings of the saints and the activities of the Virgin Mary.  The sites are surrounded by an intense cluster of honky tonk gift shops and bars.  We sampled two bars: the Hemingway, overlooking the lagoon and beach hotels on the mainland, and the Panorama, overlooking the Black Sea and the harbor, its fishing fleet, many styles of tourist boat, a cruise ship at anchor, and a hydrofoil passenger ferry that resembled the Meteors of the the Neva in St Petersburg.  In the evening Chuck, Hal, and Nate's son Nicholas braved the crashing surf for a quick dip.

Early Thursday morning we set out for Istanbul at 5:30 am in Nate's comfy Peugeot.  Nate had some morning business to attend to at the Bulgarian consulate.  We were not able to get a GPS app to work on his tablet, so we "flew blind" into the heart of Istanbul, Nate ably handling the wheel and Hal not so ably navigating with help from a few google map printouts.  Needless to say we got hopelessly lost in the bridal gown district on the wrong side of the Golden Horn from the consulate, and Nate abandoned the car for a cab while Chuck and Hal found something to eat while awaiting his return.  A few hours later we were back on the road, heading southeast to Asia over the Bosporus.

It is nearly an 8 hour drive from Istanbul around the south shore of the Marmara (Marble) Sea to the Asian side of the Hellespont.  Nate and Chuck split the driving duties.  There are many, many marble quarries along this route.  The high point (for Hal anyway) was a kebap feeding in a town called Yalova on the south shore of the Marmara (Marble) Sea at a place called Nefis Kofte.  If you ever go there ask for Ersin.

Adding in the 5 hours from Ravda to Istanbul it became a long and trying day, but the impressive and unending juxtaposition of mountains and sea provided visual relief.  We arrived at Hotel KOLIN about 9:30 pm.  We spent way too much money on some gin and tonics, walked over to the bank of the Dardenelles, witnessed a strange and inexhaustible stream of seemingly hapless gulls caught in a wind tunnel over the strait, and called it a night.

This morning as I write I'm overlooking the Hellespont in the breakfast room, watching a ferocious current and tail wind drive massive freighters from right to left toward the Aegean.  Nothing seems to be going the other way at this point.  Our race starting point tomorrow in Gallipoli is just out of view beyond the next visible point to the east on the European side.  It is a daunting prospect.  There will be an acclimatization swim later this morning, followed by an expedition to Troy.

Ravda, Bulgaria

After another excellent evening in Istanbul spent at a bar watching Fenerbahce take down Galatasary in the Super Kopa in a penalty kick shootout (no goals in the run of play!#@?), we boarded a very comfortable MetroTurizm coach at Bayrampasa bus terminal in the morning and rambled over the Balkans to Bulgaria. The crew (driver and attendant) allowed us to travel the extra 30 km from Burgas, our ticketed destination, to Ravda at no extra charge, and they dropped us off on the shoulder of the highway, pointing us toward a supermarket a couple of hundred yards away.

After texting Nate that we'd arrived, we started walking toward the Black Sea, and he met us halfway on foot.  Chuck hauled his mighty carry-on on his shoulder while I tested the rollers of my American Tourister on uneven pavement.  Arriving at the waterfront we were immediately dumbstruck by the splendor of Nate's newly completed luxury seafront condo building, for which he is in the early phases of selling units.  The ground floor commercial space features the Milagro Bar with free wifi by the sea. Stunning!

Nate's rustic yet impeccable cottage is just a few houses down the seafront, and after depositing our baggage, greeting his wife and son, and changing into bathing suits, we headed barefoot to the beach for a swim.  The shoreline is fairly rocky and the afternoon breeze stirs up a respectable chop, so the entry into the open water was a bit challenging, particularly when your legs are stiff from riding in a bus all day.  Nonetheless, once out in the open the water was clean and warm, and the swimming just fine. There were no wave runners or pleasure craft of any kind in sight. We completed a roughly 2km lap along the jetties and seawalls, ogling beautiful large white jellyfish (non-stinging) whose ancestors apparently caught a ride here from the North Atlantic on tankers. The experience was almost like snorkeling.  Nate introduced me to a product called Sea Drops that you rub into your goggles lenses to prevent fogging - works like a charm.

Dinner was wood-grilled local fish (sardines, striper, and sea bream) and some of Mila's delicious fixings, including gazpacho, roasted red peppers, vegetable casserole, and potatos.  Simple and elegant, the entire evening, both cooking and consuming, was spent outside, and there are no bugs.

I might have downed a little too much of the local "Savoy" gin, but I fell asleep quickly to the lapping waves, slept well, and awoke early to watch a magnificent sunrise on the sea from the third floor balcony.  Paradise.

Monday in Istanbul

After a limbo weekend consisting of a canceled Friday night Turkish Airlines flight from Boston to Istanbul, an extra day in Boston (with a Walden swim), and an actual flight a day later, Chuck Luce and I arrived in Istanbul on Sunday 8/24, which turns out to be a holiday of some sort, or maybe just Sunday as we know it.  The shoreline from Ataturk airport to Sultanahmet was lined with picnicking families featuring tiny hibachi-style grills and producing a massive, mouthwatering haze across the city.  There was lots of footy going on, even on the basketball courts, and quite a few people splashing into the Marmara Sea.

A rooftop dinner of grilled octopus and sea bream at Mostra Restaurant was outstanding, and just a short walk from the HOTEL ERGUVAN, just below the Blue Mosque, where we're staying for two nights on a recommendation from my friend Bob Mulcahy.  It's a decent place in a great location with a panoramic roof terrace for breakfast and evening drinks.

Today, Monday, we ventured out after a late breakfast with no particular plan but to check out a few of the many historic sites within walking distance of the ERGUVAN.  It turned out to be a bad day for it as the Hagia Sophia is closed Mondays, driving the throngs of tourists to the Blue Mosque, Cistern, and Topkapi Palace.  After suffering about a 20 minute ticket line at each of the Cistern and Topkapi, we succeeded in scoring some serious tourism points.

The Basilica Cistern is an underground reservoir built during the 6th century by Emporer Justinian to hold water fed from the Belgrad Forest (19 miles away) via aqueduct.  It's a cool retreat from the hot August sidewalk, but there's not a lot to be seen down there besides some huge darkness-loving koi, an interesting structure called the peacock-eyed column, and two column bases carved in the shape of Medusa heads.  Still, the very size and improbable fact of it make it well worth the hour or so spent there.

The Topkapi Palace is the 16th century palace of the great sultans of the Ottoman Empire.  My favorite spots were a breezeway between the Felicity Gate and the Hall of Audiences, and a porch amidst the Treasury rooms overlooking the Bosporus strait.  The harem, eunuchs' quarters, queen mother's quarters, sultan's quarters and crown princes quarters were very interesting, but I think people with guides were getting a more colorful historical experience, from what I could overhear.
Unlike European palaces, the Topkapi features nearly no artwork beyond decorative tiles and a few 19th century frescoes in the queen mother's quarters.  The tilework, and other adornments are indeed beautiful, but they don't impart an implicit narrative to keep you looking.

Late lunch at a laid back place called the Palatium was punctuated by a surprise descent from the center of the restaurant down to an excavated portion of the original Byzantine palace that dates back to the time of Constantine.

Tomorrow we're off by bus to Ravda, Bulgaria to join up with Nathan Longan for some Black Sea swim training, general merriment, and/or contemplation of our own mortalities.