
Home > Turkey > In the Footsteps of Marco Polo > Travelogue day 11
April 28 July 1 2012 (65 days)
Breakfast is decorated with cake from Jeroen—he’s celebrating his birthday today. After breakfast, we drive out, following Lake Van in a northeast direction. Today’s route runs along the lake toward Dogubayazit, our last overnight stop in Turkey. Tomorrow we will cross the border into Iran. We pause at the Muradiye Waterfall. I step out of the bus and watch the mountain water crash down the wide falls.
From the suspension bridge, I have a beautiful view of the entire waterfall. Beneath me, the meltwater flows toward Lake Van. A little further, we stop again. A large field of solidified lava lies here among the pastures. The lava had flowed over the land centuries ago during an eruption. I climb over the lava rocks, carefully avoiding the sharp stones. From the rocks, I see boys on the other side of the road guiding large groups of sheep into the village. I climb down again and watch as they skillfully lead their flocks across the road. Last year, Luc took some photos. He recognizes the boys and gives them the pictures. They look surprised at first, then very grateful. As we approach Dogubayazit, I see towering Mount Ararat. The 5,165-meter mountain is capped with snow. Legend has it that Noah’s Ark came to rest on this mountain after the flood. While I’m watching, a shepherd passes by.
He invites me and the travel group to have tea at his home. On his yard, the family is busy washing, drying, and processing sheep hides. Quickly, some chairs are arranged. The daughters bring out the tea. Almost everyone gets their own sugar pot. Turkish hospitality in action. Around noon, I enter Dogubayazit. I walk out of the hotel and order a Döner kebab in a side street. I also order the Aryan drink, a type of salty buttermilk. In the afternoon, I visit the Ishak Pasha Palace. This palace is located in the hills six kilometers outside the town. It was completed in 1784 on the orders of Colak Abdi Pasha. The design, by an Armenian architect, is a blend of various architectural styles and is considered a prime example of Ottoman architecture. I wander through the restored rooms of the palace. A group of young people wants to take a photo with me. I manage a conversation in broken English and Turkish.
Together with Yusuf and Halime, I walk to the nearby mosque. They ask if I can photograph their friends on the mosque wall and if we can take another photo together. When I arrive at the mosque and ask if I can go inside, they open the door for me. The interior is simple and austere. Later I understand that the mosque is normally not open to visitors. At the parking area, we exchange email addresses. I say goodbye to the group of friends. For Yusuf, I tear out the Turkish-English word list from my travel guide so he can practice his English. I return to Dogubayazit. At the end of the afternoon, I wander through the town center. It’s actually a very ordinary town. I walk along the shops on the pedestrian main street—many clothing stores and kebab restaurants. From the main street, I look at the giant Mount Ararat. The snow-capped peak glows beautifully in the afternoon sun. After some searching, I spot a sign for Efes. I enter the little backstreet café and have a beer. Now truly the last one before Iran.