Wrote this earlier today on the Otobus..

I'm on a bus from Bandirma to Cannakale feeling quite relieved that everything has worked out how I planned it!

Now I a can't remember exactly where we got up to about yesterday. I think I must have finish writing about the Topkaapi palace but that was probably about it?

SO after the palace what happened? We decided to head straight down the street where we had gone yesterday to get some lunch as Greg thought he had seen a cheapish kebab place (this was the place with the locum shop on it). We didn't find the place Greg was thinking of but eventually one of the restauranteers managed to entice us to eat at his restaurant with his nice manners, varied menu and ok prices (we are aware that we are probably paying too much for food but when compared to NZD the prices are still less than at home for a similar sized meal, so why get too stressed?). Lunch was good, I got donor kebab which was really yummy, Greg got a lamb Turkish pizza that looks like a boat filled with meat. Unfortunately Greg's meal was less tasty but it was by no means bad. Greg tried a cup of Turkish cay (tea) and then at the end we were given a tea each for free in the little Turkish tea cups that abound.

Oh! And see these things? They ARE NOT BEANS. No sirree! The little bastards got me good when I decided to eat an entire one just like it was a green bean,..

That done, and feeling very full we dawdled back to the restaurant. We poked our nose in a souvenir shop where the shopkeepers didn't crawl all over us trying to sell us stuff. It was actually kind of weird and made me feel a bit suspicious, but it was nice to browse slowly without being harassed. It also didn't stop me buying a box of lokum! 

Above, the pre-boxed lokum (note mostly eaten). Below, freshly made lokum (note, mostly eaten).

Again, completely untempted by any of the souvenirs. Although there are these coloured glass hanging lamps that seem really nice but I don't know how I would get it home safely...

We got back to the hotel as dark clouds gathered overhead. We chilled out for a few hours and I wrote yesterday's blog post as the thunderstorm raged. It was actually pretty cozy in our little room while the weather went on outside, and it never got cold. Greg even found some motivation to get some washing done and he did mine too. What a good boy!

We weren't hungry enough to venture outside for tea until well after 7.30pm. The thunder and lightening were over and the rain just a drizzle, but the idea of a rooftop terrace dinner was well ruined! So we wandered up our little street (which is full of restaurants) and happened upon Hayat Cafe, on the corner. There were only three tables with 6 seats at each and they were crammed in underneath the restaurant's plastic rain cover. The kitchen opened essentially onto the street. We stood outside and looked at the menu and the prices were really good. So we poked our head in and indicated a table for two. The table at the far end was empty was the restaurant manager said it was booked for eight people. The Middle table had two pairs of people sitting across from eachother with two seats in the middle free, the closest table was packed full of people. The restaurant manager indicated the only two seats free would be in between the two couples (and it was cozy). I looked at Greg and said “We can either squash up or go somewhere else.” A lady at the full table (who turned out to be South African) cracked up laughing and called out “Squash up! Squash up! The food is great here!” I looked at Greg. We squashed up. The lady continued to find 'squash up' amusing for a few more minutes.

To our right was a couple of women who I think were French and not that thrilled about us squashing in. To our left was a man and a women in their fifties. They smiled at us and said greeted us in english. The lady and I looked at eachother and cracked up laughing and kept laughing for some time at the madness of it all. We really were like sardines, stuffed in together under the plastic with the rain falling down all around us.

Long story short, the dinner was fantastic. The food was superb and the bill was extremely respectable especially considering we got alcoholic beverages as well. The French ladies left as soon as they finished eating and we made friends with our English speaking neighbours who turned out to from Holland. When we told them we were from New Zealand they gasped and laughed – they thought we were English. I felt quietly smug in that I had been thinking they were Dutch and I was right!! Greg told them he was half Dutch, and they told us about their siblings that had moved to Australia and NZ. The 'party of eight' eventually arrived, a group of very large drunk Russians (dutch man recognised the language) – only 5 stayed when they saw the crammed conditions!

When the SA lady at the other table saw us all talking and laughing she called out “See! They are the best of friends now!”. Then the Dutch man and the SA lady got into a conversation about where they were all from and the SA lady started teasing the Dutch man about how his country was the cause of all their country's problems. The other people at her table (all from SA) went around and identified what their origins were, most were of dutch origin which caused more hilarity. The Dutch man jokingly asked the restaurant manager (who had no choice but to stand in the thick of this as there was literally nowhere else for him to go) if this was actually a Turkish restaurant. He assured us it was, as he was Turkish, but then pointed out that most of his kitchen staff were German!

The meal proceeded pleasantly. We compared our experiences of Istanbul's main attractions and bemoaned together the difficulty of learning Turkish. Once we had finished we said farewell we popped over to the blue mosque and aya sophya quickly for some night pictures, then went back to home base to get some sleep as a big day of travelling awaited us the next day!

TODAY

Has been a bit of an adventure but overall a successful one!

Woke up stupidly early for some reason. Killed some time blog posting, and then fell asleep just it was probably time to get up. Dragged myself awake thirty minutes later – definitely still broken from the jetlag!

After breakfast in which we were too late to get a nice seat outside (but it was still very pleasant inside) we packed our things and tried to figure out how we were going to get ourselves and our stuff to the ferry terminal. On paper it was only a thirty minute walk away but our newfound knowledge about the reality of Turkish footpaths (or lack thereof), cobblestone roads, and abundant aggressive traffic, made us consider the train as well. So we missioned out prior to checkout to see how it all looked. The train seemed like a feasible option if a bit of a pain with the bags, but then when we checked out the waterfront it was clear it would be ok to walk down – the trick was just getting to it! It was also lovely and sunny again and looked like the walk would be pleasant. We weren't in a hurry as the boat wasn't to leave until 1230.

Decided on the free option, we checked out. We attempted to take a shorter route down to the waterfront, but naturally ended up in crazy Turkish backstreets rather lost. A nice Turkish lady babbled to us and pointed and we soon realised she was indicating that where we were headed was a dead end! We came across some equally lost tourists who didn't have english so there was a bit of laughing and pointing and eventually we all seemed to know where we were going. GPS on the smartphone is invaluable at times like these! I <3 my new phone!

Dodging tour buses and rush hour traffic we got to the waterfront and walked along. Declining offers of bosphorus private boat tours and stopping to take photos of a VERY TINY kitten (kawaii desune!!!)...

...we made it to the ferry terminal in due course. Put our stuff through the Xray and entered. I knew I wanted a machine to print the tickets I had previously paid for online back in NZ. Found the machines easily enough. Got out my ticket print-out, got out my credit card, stared at the machine. Lots of Turkish but a picture showing you to swipe your credit card. So I swiped it, expecting this to be the first step in a myriad of challenging turkish input screens... and the tickets popped out the bottom. Just like that. Greg and I cracked up laughing at the simplicity of it.

Then ensued an anxious thirty minutes waiting and hoping that someone would tell us what to do when it was time to get on the ferry because everything was in Turkish and everyone just seemed to know what was going on. Greg was more relaxed so I took his lead and waited patiently. Sure enough when it was time to board a ferryman came around saying “Bandirma, Bandirma” and pointing. So through the gates we went, then more waiting in a little holding area until the ferry was ready to board. When we tried to get on at the wrong place we were soon told “baggage, please, this way”. Our bags were stacked up in a big pile with everyone elses on the deck! Shrugging, we found our seats. I had to laugh because I'd chosen seats up the top right at the front imagining a nice big window in front with a lovely view, especially thinking of Greg who gets motion sickness. But of course the second floor front is where the captain sits, so instead we just had nice blank wall to stare at. Looking at Greg's face before the boat even took off, I dosed him up with anti nausea drugs! He did ok.

The boat ride was smooth and lovely all things considered although took closer to three hours than the two and a half I had read about. We disembarked – getting our bag's back proved not a problem at all – and entered into the bustling seaside town of Bandirma. After Greg's reports of the boat's loos being a bit dodgy I made a beeline for the loo at the port. 1 TL later and I had enjoyed my first proper 'squatty potty' (as Greg calls it) experience. It was very clean and I didn't whizz on my trousers or fall over so I count that as a win.

I came out and Greg had made a friend. Or rather, a funny old man selling perfume had decided to hang out next to where Greg was standing with all our bags. I had discussed with Greg previously that the plan was to grab a taxi to the Otogar (bus station) as it is 10kms from the ferry terminal and no other decent way to get out there, and that the standard price was 20TL. I put him in charge of price/taxi negotiations so he knew he was up. We headed over to where there were many taxis all in a row and we were just starting to feel confused because they weren't four door sedans they were more like mini station wagons, but a taxi driver approached us saying “Otogar? Bus station? Otogar” I was so relieved to hear 'Otogar'! We agreed and followed him to his taxi. Greg asked how much, he said 20 TL and everything was exactly as I had read about in the LP and online so that was a big relief! When we got inside and found we couldn't do up the seatbelts because the clicky bits were stuck below the seat cushions, that was a little disconcerting, especially since this was a 10km ride through a busy town and then a motorway in crazy, crazy Turkey (and according to LP the most common way visitors end up in hospital is from MVAs...).

But we made it alive to the Otogar. At the station we were pounced on by multiple bus drivers calling out “Cannakale? Cannakale?” (how the heck do they KNOW?). I knew that some bus companies were better than others but on the spot I couldn't remember exactly. Thankfully Greg took a look at the buses themselves and knew exactly which bus he wanted – the nice big coach – and indicated to that driver that that was what we wanted. When I saw the name on the bus I knew it was a good one so that worked out well. The bus driver took us inside and hooked us up with tickets. Greg had to write our names down for the man (which resulted in my ticket being printed with the name “Jale Birdling”) and then he wrote down the price. Slightly more than what was said online/in the guide but we have been finding that all over with attractions etc. so I think the current economic climate has pushed everything up a wee bit (but what's 5TL each between friends?). Then there was some confusion as they babbled at us in english and the driver pointed at the bus just outside saying “No Cannakale, no Cannakale”. But our ticket said the bus for Cannakale was leaving in fifteen minutes! Three people all talked at us for a few seconds while we stared blankly until I heard someone say “Ingilizu” and then the man behind desk said “Platform 9” Ah it all made sense now. Our bus wasn't here yet, it would come in at platform 9, and if we got on the bus at platform 10 we would end up somewhere random. Not speaking the language makes you feel really stupid!

Our bus arrived and we got on it no problem. The bus is lovely! Airconditioned, TV screens with headphones, little fold away tables, and a man has come around and given us all a drink of water – no mean feat while the bus is moving! It has been an absolutely beautiful trip across the countryside also, lush green fields and farms dotted with houses on one side and then the coastline on the other. Greg hasn't gotten sick at all either.

I had been pretty nervous about negotiating today but given how everything has worked out I am feeling very watched over and protected!

Soon we will be in Cannakale for another Turkish evening (and hopefully more Turkish cuisine!) and then tomorrow we have a massive day trip to see Troy and Gallipoli. La la la and I'm all caught up on the blog at last!!! If you have managed to read this post right to the end my congratulations to you because I am seriously not filtering the boring details so you are getting the lot!

:) Jane