The cove is located in a national park, a one way road winds through the park with monuments scattered all around. Tracks run off the main road where trenches are still to be found. I was glad I had my bike; it allowed me to travel down many of the tracks and see stuff the average tourist probably didn’t have the opportunity to see. I even had the opportunity to go inside a couple of pill boxes that were still there. I read some of the headstones in one or two of the graveyards, very emotional.
I found a hotel and asked the hotel guy if it was ok to park the bike in the foyer, ‘No problem kid’, or words to that effect, came the reply. I called in to a book shop just for something to do. The guy behind the counter looked at me and had difficulty deciding what language he should talk to me in. He said ‘Hello’ in Turkish, ‘Hey up’ I replied. Within seconds I was whisked to the front of the shop and served a glass of cay, Turkish tea, asked if I wanted something to eat, and was the centre of attention to 6 really friendly people. We spoke English for a while before I departed.
No comments:
Post a Comment