a trip to the dark sea of the world [part III]

Day 5—Thursday July 19, 2007

Sleep was restless. I kept waking up, think I was late, but it was 5:30, 6:30, 7 am…and what could I be late for?! But, the sun was bright and the river was loud and I was up.

Tiffin eventually joined me and we headed to breakfast, where we had heaps of kaymak and two types of jam—visne [veeshnay; sour cherry] and kayisi [kayeuseu; apricot]. No bee attack on the goodies, but there was a cool green bug on the chair. I ate much too much.

We waited for the rest of the group and, in the meantime, the rafting guide staying at the pension came and talked my ear off. He told me about all the different types of rafting available and all the places around the world where he’d gone rafting. He tried to allay our “fears” about the water being cold and by describing the beauty of the rapids:

“Shakira gibi dans ediyor!”
“The water dances like Shakira!”


Always the businessman, always the Turk, he knew “a guy who could give [us] a great deal in Trabzon.” Too typical. Just a tad annoying.

We left late, circa 10:30. Mehmet Bey brought us first to the bakkal [corner store], where he and Abu Bekir bought food for a picnic. It's also where we saw an incredibly large bag of hazelnuts Beckham's lil punim staring us down from the Pepsi machine [the man is everywhere, even the most remote villages in the mountains...oh oh it's magic, you know].

After our little shopping trip, it was time to really get going. We didn't know where he was taking us, but Mehmet Bey started driving towards the road that Tiffin and I walked up the first day.

T: It would be really funny if we turned down that road. We can look for your earmuff!

And yes, my friends, we turn.
We drive over the bridge.
We. See. My. Earmuff!

“Dur! Bir dakika!” x3
“Stop! One minute!” x3

I jumped out of the car, as everyone else in the stared at me dumbfounded. Harika! Everything I had lost was found!

Shaking his head and chuckling, Mehmet Bey continued up the hill.

Me: It would be quite funny if he also stopped at that promenade where we stopped last time.

Lo and behold, he stopped at the promenade:

“From here you can walk around and have a picnic. I’ll pick you up in 2-3 hours.”

OK! We put our stuff down and started to walk. It was nice because we were able to go further than we had the other day—we were three-quarters of the way up at that point. We followed the road—the butterflies were out in full force—and arrived at a fork in the road.

Problems ensue as no once seems to care [fark etmez]:

Filiz [aka Spunky Girl]: Do we go up or down?
Me: Fark etmez. What do you want to do?
Filiz: Fark etmez.
Me: What do you want Abu Bekir?
Abu Bekir: Up?
Filiz and kids chorus: Nooooo! Up is boring. Down takes us to a village.

I guess fark etti after all…

So, we continued down the hill and were passed by 3-4 dolmus along the way. The other day we had seen no one on that road! We got down to the town and, I must say, I was dreading the trek back up.

Suddenly, a dolmus stopped. The driver was friends with the kids and he offered to drive us up the hill. Huzzah! We drove up and then Abu Bekir said:

“wanna go to a nicer place for our picnic?”

OK! We packed the car and headed off. It was a harrowing ride—he took the curves 30x faster than Mehmet Bey. Back in town, we stopped at the bakkal to call Mehmet Bey, letting him know our plan. Then we moved on.

Again, we went down a road Tiffin and I had taken two days prior—the roadblocked one—but today the roadblock was gone. So, we went much further…20km further. It.was.gorgeous. No surprise.

After what seemed like an eternity we finally stopped at a pine covered area near the river. The driver, who I thought was coming for lunch since he had driven us so far, left without taking a coin!

We set up the picnic in the shade. The watermelon and cola were put in the water to make them cold. Spunky Girl and Tiffin made salad. Abu Bekir and Spunky Girl’s Uncle cooked the chicken and veggies.

It was all delicious, delightful, relaxing. Just great fun. We were so lucky to have the chance to participate. It was obvious the kids were happy too, we gave them an excuse to get out and not be so bored. Ach! It was just so nice and I’m so glad Tiffin made the decision for us to stay that extra day.

We took some group pictures that came out well. Here you can see (l-r): me, Spunky Girl's Uncle, little cousin girl, Tiffin, Abu Bekir, little cousin boy.







And Filiz, being the [not too overwhelming] drama queen that she is, instated my camera for a little photo session near the river.

By 4 o’clock, we were pretty darned stuffed. Picnic plus all that kaymak and jam for breakfast—Tiffin and I needed a walk. There was some confusion as to whether or not Mehmet Bey would even be coming, so Tiffin and I decided to walk back.

Bekir wasn’t pleased. We had a small petrol tank and two heavy carpets to carry. Additionally, he just flat out wasn’t interested in the concept of walking…he’s not one to be particularly enthralled by nature. He assured us his father would be coming and after much argument we convinced him to wait at the picnic site—there was no reason for him to be miserable, especially after everything he’d done for us! I thought we had convinced the kids, as well, but they decided to come along for the walk.

So, we started without Abut Bekir. At some point, however, we turned around and saw Bekir coming up behind us. There had been a few other Carson the road, also having picnics, so he left the heavy stuff with them to drive back to town. In the end it all worked out!

It was a wonderful walk. Along the way, Abu Bekir would point out interesting things, like trees split by lightening, or logs fallen by winter avalanches.

We also saw some remarkably twisted trees—the Paleobotanist claims this results from correction-overcorrection-recorrection in growth habits orrrr sickness.

Meh, I just thought it looked neat.

The coolest sight of the day, however, had to be the large block of ice we passed alongside the road--in essence, the remains of a small glacier, melting in the heat of the day—which, to me, was a remarkable thing.

After having our fill of frozenness—and trying to avoid the snowball fight that was beginning between the kids—we moved on. All of a sudden, Mehmet Bey came driving along the road. Tiffin and I wanted to walk some more but Mehmet Bey insisted us on driving us to a safer walking location—apparently, bears are quite abundant in the forest. He explained that bears were also the reason behind the random high -pitched sirens we were hearing back at the pension. He had a tripwire system around the beehives he tends--when a bear comes near, a siren blares and bright lights go on, scaring the bear away. Ha! Glad we found that out.

We drove a long long way. Secretly, I was glad we didn’t walk it. The day was hot and three days of hiking without reprieve were taking their toll on my body. I was tired. Eventually, he let us off, I had my relief-in-the-woods experience, and we had a nice walk home…not including the last 1.6km struggle uphill.

As we came near the pension, I saw Mehmet Bey's dog across the river. I took a picture of him and he started barking. Mehmet Bey came running towards us from behind his beehives telling us not too take pictures of the dog because it scares him and he'll attack. Yet another good thing to know.

When we got back to the pension, new guests were coming in. We sat down for tea with the kids and watched the new guys—Slovenians—come up. An interesting couple, he was a chubby fellow, pissed off and out of breath with a cigarette lit immediately upon reaching the top, she dressed like Lara Croft. Hell yeah, they were gonna beat the giant Kackar!

After tea I went for a shower—it was burning hot, thanks to all that gunes [goonesh; sun] enerji [there was a lot of gunes that day]. Then, it was off to the terrace to write. However, just as I sat down Abu Bekir came in and we started talking. Same things—comparing the US and Turkey—but he did reveal a strong interest n Ottoman history along the way. Tiffin came in followed soon thereafter by the kids. The TV was turned on and Turkish-English language lessons began between Tiffin and Filiz, with me acting as intermediary translator supreme. A nasty headache ensued and writing was not happening. Luckily, an hour later dinner was called.

Dinner was not manti [mahnteu; Turkish ravioli] as Mehmet Bey had said. Nonetheless, it was good, consisting of soup [homemade by Rafting Guide’s wife], salad, pasta, chicken and potatoes, watermelon…and, also prepared by Rafting Guide’s wife, un helvasi [oon helvaseu; flour helva]! We enjoyed the helva but Abu Bekir’s face when he tried it is impossible to describe—priceless…yeah, his plate went immediately to the trash.

After dinner, we went upstairs for cay. We had had a lot of tea since getting to Barhal, but the Black Sea is tea country, so I indulged. Upstairs, Tiffin played pisde [peeshday; a Turkish card game] with the kids and I played tavla [tahvlah; backgammon] with Filiz. I was doing ok until the usta came over and started guiding me…so I ende up with a mas [mahsh; three game loss in one game]! After that, I gave up and the usta took my place. Thankfully, he lost too.

Abut Bekir came over and he got a kick out of flipping through my journal, seeing all the doodles. Then we started talking about the plan for the res of our trip. The kids left, but Filiz gave me her email address—“make sure to come over when you come to Istanbul!!”

By 11:30, Bekir and the usta had helped us develop an itinerary. I can’t tell you how helpful they’d been the entire time. The Israeli couple were highly intrigued by us, they couldn’t figure out what the deal was with the Turkish and the English. It was hilarious to catch them staring as we laughed and talked with the guys.

The four days that we spent in Barhal and our time at Karahan Pension can be described as nothing less than fantastic. In reality, I don’t think I can begin to do it justice. The environment was refreshing, encouraging, and challenging. The treks we took weren’t easy and I’m proud of how successful we were…and it’s not as if it didn’t get us anywhere—no, it paid off in spades with the absurdly awesome views and a great sense of accomplishment!

The whole experience also made me realize that it really does make a difference to know even just a tiny bit of the language. It was immediately obvious upon our arrival that our experiences with the people at the pension and in the town were going to be a lot different than the other tourists there. Other tourists couldn’t—actually, they didn’t try—to communicate…they didn’t even say “merhaba” and would get fed up with the people at the pension when they couldn’t understand. Even many of the foreign guides, who frequented the place, couldn't speak much Turkish; instead, they just relied on silly hand gestures to get their points across. I just found it disrespectful and condescending.

We, on the other hand, had the experience of a lifetime. Without being able to talk to the people at the pension we never would have seen all the things we saw and learned as much about the area. We went far away and saw things in the backwoods, but it was more than just gazing around at the pretty scenery—we were able to do active viewing, learning all about the water systems and ways of life in the area at a significant level. We also made friends and had a good time with people we barley know, we could let down our guard—something I find hard to do in Turkey.

And, if we couldn't speak Turkish, none of that would have happened. Just a little bit, that’s all you need!

To top it off, we stayed at the pension for four nights, breakfast and dinner included, two unexpected lunches…adding up to 200ytl = $78/person [they gave us a 40ytl discount]. But, I would have paid so much more for that experience and I can’t praise the Karahan Pension and its people enough. They were warm, kind, and helpful beyond belief.

Sum up: Make Barhal a priority in your traveling life! Make the Karahan Pension the place you stay! Learn some Turkish!