It's wake in the morning to find it snowing. Only small fluffy snow flakes that melt as soon as they hit the ground. It is forecast to get worse. I am catching a bus to Çanakkale and I do not want a repeat of the last bus trip.
An afternoon on the bus and a short ferry ride later and I am in Çanakkale. This town is on the south side of the Dardanelle straight. On the other side of the straight is Gallipoli. The ANZACs landed there in 25 April 1915, fighting with the Commonwealth forces against the Ottomans. It is an important site in Australian history.
It's bloody freezing cold and windy in Çanakkale, but at least it's not snowing. I meet up with my couchsurfing host, Önder and we head to a resturant for dinner. This place had classic Turkish food that wasn't kebab. Awesome.
The following day I laze around for a while before heading to town to find some internet and figure out the best way to visit Gallipoli. This area is sparsely inhabited, the sites are a little spread out and tours are very expensive. I get some maps, do some research and decide that I can get a ferry and then a dolmus (mini bus) to a village near ANZAC bay and just walk around for the day. I have to say that it would be much easier to visit this place if I had my bicycle with me.
To make the most of the day I get up early and by 8.15 I am on the north side of the dardanelle straight purchasing bread and fruit for my picnic. I meet a French tourist, Pier, that is also checking out some cemeteries and monuments. We decide to hang out together and before long we are on a dolmus headig towards Cape Helles, where many English, quite a few French, some Indian and a few ANZACs landed.
The dolmus doesn't take us far and we hitch to the next village for a quick Turkish coffee. From here we are foot. First up is a Turkish statue of a soldier. Next is the first Commonwealth cemetary, Twelve Tree Copse.
The cemetary is well looked after, near cut grass surrounds the headstones and there are a few trees. We wander around and I find it very difficult to imagine this area as a war zone.
We walk down to Pink Farm Cemetary, W Beach, V Beach and Helles Memorial. This is a monument that bears the names of over 21 000 Commonwealth servicemen that died on the peninsular.
We make our way towards the large Turkish Monument, on the way visiting the French Cemetary. According to Pier, very few French people realise that about 10 000 soldiers were lost in Gallopoli. The French grave is large, apparently they prefer to bury their dead together instead of where they died as the Commonwealth did.
The day is getting late by the time we make it to the Turkish monument, we have missed the last bus to the village where I need to get the ferry and there is very little traffic. Ah well, we will figure something out. From a distance he Turkish Momument is quite impressive bit up close it has a very soviet style to it and feels a little pretentious and over done. I wonder what Ataturk would think of it. Luckily, just as it gets dark we manage to hitch a ride with some local tourists.
The following day I head over on the ferry again, this time nursing blisters on my toes from all the walking yesterday. I manage to snag a ride with a staff bus to the museum only a few kilometres from ANZAC Bay. Once again it is a beautiful day, clear blue skies but very cold.
I wander along the road next to ANZAC Bay, visiting Beach Cemetary, Ari Burnu Cemetary before arriving at the ANZAC Commemorative site.
It is easy to see why the ANZACs were so doomed landing here. There are large, steep hills rising only a few metres from the shore.
I have to double back along the road to get to the track to take me up to Lone Pine Cemetary. I visit Shrapnel Valley and Shell Green Cemtaries on the way.
I stop for a while, have a bite to eat and drink some tea while I reflect on the futility of the battles in this area. The Commonwealth forces gained very little ground during the eight months they sept here. There was a large cost to both sides, 36 000 Commonwealth (including ANZAC and Indian's), 10 000 French and at least 86 000 Turkish troops died. When looking at the Comminwealth Cemetaries I can't find anyone that died aged over 37 years.
I decide that's enough Cemetary visiting to last me a while and head back to Çanakkale. It's Friday night and I head to the pub with Önder and his friends, it's nice to have a couple of beers and shake off the somberness of the last couple of days.
I catch a bus back to Aydin to hang with Sam and Bec for a couple of days before I head to Greece. On Sunday we go to the local Camel Wrestling competition. Yes, Camel Wrestling. Who knew that there is such a thing! Apparently this happens seasonally in this area only. The gist of it is that camels are bred to be large, the male camels get dolled up with massive saddles and decoration. Then a lady camel that is in heat wanders around teasing the males and makes them mega horny. Two males are put in the ring together and wrestle for domination. I couldn't figure out how to tell which camel is winning or won or what the rules are. Also, when Camels are horny they produce many litres of froth saliva that covers their mouth and face. Gross.
Thousands of Turkish locals are out in force, barbecuing, picnicking, drinking, singing, dancing and generally having a good time, including the occasional scrap. The three of us somehow get included with a group of men from Kas. They ply us with lamb chops and give up a little raki. I ask one of them what the rules are for the wrestling. He has no idea and is just here for the party.
The next few days I just hang out in Aydin, doing not much at all, avoiding the rain. Eventually it's time to return to Bodrum and be reunited with my bicycle and go to Greece. Europa is calling.
