ANZAC: Last Post

Just a quick note to provide you with a link to a YouTube video that was taken of the Last Post at the Dawn Service at Gallipoli. You'll see me at about 20 seconds into the clip to the left of the guy in the brown cap - I'm wearing a khaki beanie. Sharon found the clip somehow, and that's her wrapped up in the grey sleeping bag in front of the guy in the brown cap.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L54uSfNRReM

Click on the link (above), and then play the video clip by clicking on the small 'play' arrow at the bottom left of the large black square that will come up.

ANZAC: Gallipoli

It’s been a while between posts, and I make no apology for that. Sure, things have been busy and I’ll get to that in future posts, but this has been the hardest piece I’ve ever written. I’ve retyped much and at times had to walk away. Why? Well, read on, you may understand or at least get a glimpse of that understanding. This was an experience, and one that is very hard to describe...

A 5am breakfast had most of us on the bus and ready to leave at around 6am. We'd changed busses and drivers, and you couldn't help but wonder if something was up after seeing what you can see here with the sticker going over the bus company's actual name… Our new driver did offer us all a round of teas or Turkish coffee, which was a bonus that many of us welcomed.
Once off, it was time to settle in for either some extra sleep or to just watch the city of Istanbul go by with our tea or coffee. The built up areas eventually gave way to fields, but we were informed by Volkan that we were still in Istanbul and that these were their farmers. Smaller built up areas kept on appearing throughout this early portion of our journey, which did give you the feeling that you hadn't quite left Istanbul itself.

Our first stop provided one of those moments where you discover something unique about a country and you are reminded that you're in a different part of the world. We'd pulled into what looked like a rather modern petrol station/roadhouse for a toilet break. To say that the toilets were 'interesting' would be a bit of an understatement. A bowl in the floor with a panel on each side for your feet. No loo paper either, as those who needed it were raiding the paper towel dispenser before heading back to their cubicles (assuming that they'd noticed this first).

Back on the road, and Volkan was advising us that we would need to stock up on food supplies at our next stop, which would be a "big shop". We would need lunch, dinner, breakfast and lunch again before we would be back in Istanbul.
Before reaching the "big shop" we passed through some seaside 'towns', which Volkan described as summer houses - not bad, as most of them were multi storey buildings. We really were just following the coastline out of Istanbul and down the Bosphorus straight.

The "big shop" turned out to be a large supermarket, and we were given 25minutes to shop for what we needed/wanted. What wasn't taken into account was the fleet of other buses that arrived shortly after we did, and this meant that the supermarket was suddenly inundated with Aussies and Kiwis all doing that last stop shop for supplies… 40 minutes later, we were back on the road again.

The Turkish countryside is quite picturesque as we continued to follow along the coastline into the region known as the Dardanelles towards Anzac Cove. The countryside itself was far greener than I thought it would be. Meanwhile, out on the water were all manner of craft from fishing boats to massive cargo ships.

After a while we started to see road signs mentioning Gelibolu, which is the town of Gallipoli, and our anticipation grew. We had entered the peninsula known as the Dardanelles, where this campaign had taken place 94 years ago.

Soon we were driving on a bitumen lane that wound its way upward through the hills of this region to pull up at the Lone Pine memorial for a quick visit. All was in preparation for the following day’s service, and it was nice in the sunshine to enjoy the views of the coastline. However, it was here by that lone tree, amongst the head stones, and looking down at the terrain, that I started to gain an insight in to what occurred here nearly a century ago.
We’ve all seen the Gallipoli movie and some documentaries of the battles that took place here, but to actually stand there... I don’t know, it’s hard to describe, but ‘appreciation’ seems a good word. You feel it, but I’m not exactly sure what ‘it’ actually is, and while I’ve retyped this paragraph about twelve times now in an attempt to describe it to you, that feeling has returned each time...
Anyway, after spending some time here we travelled further up the winding road to Chunuk Bair, which is the sight of the New Zealand memorial (Lone Pine being Australian). On the way, we passed other smaller memorial sights including a large Turkish one.
Chunuk Bair was also the first time we encountered the trenches. I’m sure they are reconstructions as the wood didn’t seem all that old, but they weren’t exactly that far apart as I’ve tried to show here (click on the pic for a bigger view). Walking along the trenches, you notice very quickly just what the New Zealanders faced. It was the same at Lone Pine, and ‘appreciation’ again seems to fit.
Both attacks just seem ludicrous, but both succeeded.

From Chunuk Bair, we headed back down the hills to the coast, again passing some smaller memorial sights to eventually reach the Turkish museum of Kabatepe, which is where we stopped for a lunch break. Nice to have an ice cream stall there in the sun.

Our next stop was along the coastline itself in a makeshift carpark (or bus-park) on what was funnily enough, Brighton Beach. Volkan had earlier told us that there would be over 180 buses delivering people to Anzac Cove. We disembarked and collected up all our gear to then make our way along Anzac Cove to the Anzac Commemorative sight. To get there, we walked the entire length of Anzac Cove (pictured below), which isn’t as long as it sounds. We then queued up to go through security, which was pretty much what you go through at the airport. As we waited, the queue got longer and longer as more people arrived behind us.
Once again, you got to appreciate what had happened here - looking at that beach you really have to ask why they landed here.

Eventually at the sight itself, we were directed to a spot and settled in for the next 12-13 hours until the dawn service the next morning. The site was already crowded and throughout the night people were still arriving. They had two large video screens and throughout the night these were showing different documentaries on the Gallipoli campaign. The bulk of these documentaries were footage and photographs of the campaign with the letters of soldiers that served there being read out. It did get a little full on with descriptions of the slaughter and resulting ‘mess’ (which you can no doubt imagine), but was fascinating at the same time as I learnt quite a bit about what had happened in the very spot that we were. Many of the smaller things were quite a surprise too. A few were even Turkish and gave you an idea of what things were like on their side of this war.
In between these and as the temperature dropped we stayed in our little area entertaining ourselves or attempting to gain some sleep, which did become a little harder as the crowds grew.

As dawn started to gradually arrive, things moved slowly into gear for the dawn service itself.
I’ve done dawn services before in both Adelaide and Melbourne, and never have I found them to be particularly emotional - I have no connection to Gallipoli through any relative. There is something about being there in Gallipoli though. I don’t know what it is exactly and several of us tried to work this out but couldn’t seem to come up with anything substantial... Either way, you really feel this service. Nothing prepared me for that feeling either, especially at the words of the Turkish General who commanded their defence, Mustafa Kemal Atatürk;

“Those heroes that shed their blood
And lost their lives
You are now lying in the soil of a friendly country
Therefore rest in peace
There is no difference between the Johnnies
And the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side
Here in this country of ours
You, the mothers,
Who sent their sons from far away countries
Wipe away your tears,
Your sons are now lying in our bosom
And are in peace
After having lost their lives on this land
They have become our sons as well”

This was particularly poignant after some of the things that you learned over night in the documentaries about the camaraderie, respect and bond that seemed to strike up between the two opposing forces. After one of the very early battles where over thirteen thousand Turkish and ANZACs were killed, there was a truce so that the dead could be removed. The descriptions of this in the ANZAC letters were quite graphic, but included a realisation that “the enemy” they were trying to kill were just like them. On a lighter side, this led to many exchanges with cigarettes, candy, butter, etc being thrown back n forth between the opposing trenches.

Once the service was over, it was time to pack up and clean up the site before making our way to the next memorial service at Lone Pine. To get there, we had to trek back along ANZAC Cove, which under the early morning sunrise was quite special. After a while we then had to turn inland and make our way up 3 kilometres of a dirt “road” that wound its way up to Lone Pine. It certainly gave you an appreciation of the terrain that the ANZACs traversed to get to Lone Pine, as they did this without a road (and without a stop at Shell Green Cemetery).

In the warm sun, they held the Australian memorial service at Lone Pine. This included more of that feeling that still keeps coming back even as I type this. The guy who was ‘welcoming’ us all there (kinda like a warm-up guy at a show) did two things during his time at the podium that I will never forget. Firstly amongst his banter and guiding people to the right areas, he asked if there were any World War II veterans present - a single elderly man stood up in the stands just down from where I was sitting, and the applause from all who had gathered there was amazing. Cue the Feeling... This then followed on with Korean and Vietnam veterans who received the same as they too stood or raised their hands.
The second was the tale of Brigadier Rolfe and how he lost both legs during a war, right before he then introduced this man who came forward on his crutches to be the master of ceremonies for the service.

After the service, we were pretty much left to our own devices. I and a couple of others headed off up the road to just past the Turkish memorial service that I mentioned that we had passed the day before. There was already a Turkish service underway by the time we got there, so we took a respectful peek before heading further up the road.
Our destination was the site of the battle of the Nek. This is the actual battle that is depicted in the movie Gallipoli. As we’d learnt the night before, this is also the location where during that gap between the shelling and the charge when the Turks had climbed back to their machine guns, they had yelled and pleaded for the ANZACs not to come over the trenches to attack... It is here I discovered just how small a distance they were trying to cover. It literally isn’t much larger than a tennis court. The pic really doesn’t do it justice, and I bet you didn’t expect trees either...
The view from here across the Dardenelles was again, impressive, and this area really was on a thin ridge. I trekked a little further down the tracks to come out on the edge of the hill known as the Sphinx. It overlooks the site where the Dawn Service was held and gives you a great view out across the Adriatic Sea.
Returning back to the road and one last look at the memorial at the Nek, I continued the trek up to Chunuk Bair where they were holding the New Zealand memorial service. Sitting in the sun enjoying a bite to eat while the Kiwi’s did their thing. While I was on the outside of the area, I did get a good view of the impromptu Haka that followed after their service finished.
I was soon to discover that it was probably rather inappropriate to perform the haka that they did.
I caught up with the Kiwi contingent of our tour group to await our bus, and during this time, they informed me that there are several versions of the haka. The famous one performed before rugby matches is the battle one and is very insultive to those it is directed at. They believed the pride one would have been more appropriate, but many may not know it well enough.
That discovered, we settled in to watch the convoy of busses go past until ours came up. As nice as sitting in the sun can be, it was getting a bit much at this stage. Over 180 busses had to pass through to collect everyone from both Lone Pine and Chunuk Bair. While we waited a few hours, there were others who would wait far longer as the road used was only wide enough for one bus at a time...

On the road again and it was time to catch up on sleep as we made our way back to Istanbul and the hotel. The idea of heading out for a final night out in Istanbul was pretty much scuppered by the need for sleep and everyone feeling knackered. The hotel lobby bar was pretty much it for Paul, Shar, myself and a few others in our tour group, although Paul and I did head up the road to a restaurant for a bite to eat with a couple of the others.

Sunday, and all ideas of getting up early to go check out some nearby locations and sites pretty much ended as we slept through alarms and the like. Hotel breakfast and the fun of trying to our promised cab from the concierge was going to be pretty much the morning.
We made it to the airport with good time to spare, although I nearly didn’t make the plane. I was stopped just before going through the gate by airport police and a rather fat sweaty man. He was a taxi driver and claimed that I had not paid the fare. When I explained that I had come in a white mini-van taxi with four other Aussies from our hotel they let me go.

This was really an incredible experience. I had heard that it can be life changing. I wouldn’t go that far, but it was certainly more than I expected. I’m certainly glad I did it and would recommend it to anyone from Australia or New Zealand regardless of age...

ANZAC: Istanbul

So after a rather hectic week involving some more treatment and a fun night out with the work crew in Brick Lane it’s time to tell you of the last ‘adventure’...

It began after a very pleasant evening with Zara and Jarrett on the banks of the Thames.
On the way home I discovered that the workers on the Victoria tube line were going on strike from 9pm that night. Naturally, I needed to use this line at around 11.30pm to get to Victoria train station, and so it began.
After an extra hour of travelling on connecting tube lines I met Shar at Victoria station and we made our way to Gatwick Airport. With a 6am flight in the morning, and needing to be there at around 4am, we decided to head down there the night before so that we could avoid needing to use night busses and having to be getting up at around 2am. Instead we could sleep at the airport until around 4am. Or so we thought.
Lise met us in the airport lounge with about an hour before our flight for Istanbul, and we were set to go. A good score to have all three of us in the third row of our Easyjet flight and we settled in for the journey.

Our arrival at Sabiha Gökçen was rather comical as we all boarded the bus awaiting us on the tarmac only to drive about twenty metres to the terminal entrance. With visas purchased, customs navigated and baggage in hand we were collected by our tour group and boarded their bus. [Whilst I prefer not to go with tour groups, you are unable to go to ANZAC Cove and attend the services unless you are with an organised tour...]
Now I use the word ‘organised’ rather loosely here as the next four hours of our time in Istanbul could hardly be called that. Admittedly, the simple issue of Istanbul’s traffic meant that we had a two hour ride just to get from the airport to the area in which we were all staying. At least there was some entertainment from the ‘street’ sellers (right) on the clogged freeway.
The fun started as over the next two hours we discovered that we were in fact about seven tour groups on the one bus as we were haphazardly dropped off at our accommodation by our ‘guide’ and a driver that seemed clueless on how to get us there. At least it was a rather entertaining bus load of antipodeans as we could joke about the bus crew considering their complete lack of English.
We did get to see some of Istanbul along the way, and my first impression of the city when we left the airport was quite simply that it was unfinished. There were so many high and low rise apartment blocks being built. They were everywhere. I noticed almost no parks or open areas for kids to play in. The closer we got to central Istanbul the more the buildings seemed to close in on the road. I guess when you have over 16 million people in one city, there’s little spare space for things other than housing and shops... It did seem a little oppressive amongst all the concrete blocks (with quite a few domed mosques thrown in for good measure).

Our hotel turned out to be fairly good too. I wasn’t expecting it to be a four star hotel. Once sorted for our rooms, we took the hotel staff advice and headed down the road to the nearby Taşhan Bazaar. Amongst all the shops in a small courtyard we had a rather eventful dinner in a “cafe”. Very friendly staff despite their lack of English, who even invited to dress appropriately for dinner (see Lise n Shar in the pic). Even Paul (who arrived later) and I had to wear a traditional turban - I’d have preferred a fez...
Despite the bit of touristy fun, the food here was fantastic!! A little later, and at the invite of the owner, we were shown his other restaurant and nightclub (Arkat) that was also in this bazaar.
Not long after and we were back in our hotel lobby for the meeting of our guide, Volkan. This too became rather entertaining as we all attempted to get drinks from the hotel bar before the formalities. For those of you who know Fawlty Towers and the hapless Manuel, well, we experienced the Turkish version. He had no coke nor ice for one person’s bourbon until Volkan actually spoke to him in Turkish and suddenly he had both. To have this guy declaring “Aahh, Coke” after Emma had said coke and coca-cola in several different ways during her many attempts to order her drink just topped it off.

After getting our meeting times and run-down of our itinerary from Volkan, the night was ours. A quick freshen up and Shar, Lise, Paul and myself headed back to the Taşhan Bazaar. We started off at a smoking cafe where you could enjoy one of the Turkish waterpipes. It was nothing like smoking tobacco, with it being no trouble for non-smokers to do. Shar chose a cherry one, as we really had no idea, and despite it not tasting much like cherries we relaxed with it while enjoying Turkish coffee’s or apple teas and other drinks - oh, and big screen 80's music videos in the background (go figure!).
It was then time to return to the Arkat, which was now in dinner-dance/nighclub mode. We entered the 800 year old Byzantine Cistern, where this is housed, for the owner to greet us like long lost friends and promptly found us a table. It was close to the dance floor that was currently occupied by a bellydancer and several patrons that she was ‘teaching’. Shortly after, came their cabaret singer, who not only had an excellent voice, but seamlessly moved through many nationalities songs from Waltzing Matilda to Russian and Ukrainian songs to have different tables all involved in the night. Next up was something that I’m not really sure I actually saw, even though here’s a photo for proof. A male bellydancer! A good giggle with all the girls going a little nuts over it, because he wasn’t exactly a Chippendale. Paul and I both concluded that he had to have been a eunuch to have not done himself any damage during his act - but he was quite good.
After his departure, the place kicked on as a nightclub, and we dutifully enjoyed the night until it was time to head back to the hotel.

An early 8am start after a full buffet breakfast and we were on our way for a day of sightseeing in Istanbul. Volkan’s original itinerary altered a few times during the day, but held pretty closely to what we all wanted to see.
First up was the Hippodrome, which is where the old sultan’s used to watch the horse racing in a similar setup to the Circus Maximus in Rome. Inside the ‘track’ are now several obelisks that were gifts to the sultans. Volkan’s broken English did create some interesting moments throughout as was evident (above) when he told us that we couldn’t see the heads of the spiralled serpents after telling us about this statue’s history.
Over the road we went to enter the “blue” mosque, which is the building you can see at the very beginning above. This mosque is impressive in its size and the interior is coated in some 20,000 tiles. It is their colour that gives rise to the nickname of the Blue Mosque. Rather impressive as you mosey on through in your socks. They did give us plastic bags to carry our shoe in, as well as scarves for the ladies to cover their heads.
Through the nearby park, and we found ourselves at the Aya Sofya museum. Another massive building that was originally a Christian church (530AD) before being taken over and converted into a mosque by the Ottomans in the 1400’s. In the 1930’s it was turned into a museum and the old Christian images were revealed. The way to the upper level is actually a paved ramp, which allowed the sultans to be brought up on their chariots to attend prayers! To give you an idea of the size of this place, that large green circular hanging you can see in the pic is seven metres in diameter!
Once our time in here was finished, we were back on the bus and off to a Turkish carpet house - complete with magic carpets! None flew, but the ‘magic’ part comes from the weave and how it is a different colour depending on which direction you are looking at the carpet. We were given a short lesson on the history of the carpets and how they are made, while enjoying a teas and other Turkish drinks from our host. It was rather amazing that some of the carpets could take up to and over two years to make! (All are handmade - unlike the Persian rugs you see in the shops that are all closing down).
After the inevitable sales pitch, and my disappointment in no one asking about “fakari rugs”, it was off to a nearby restaurant where we had lunch.

The afternoon began with a trip to Topkap I Palace. This is not so much of a palace as a small citadel and housed the sultans up until the 19th century. Upon going through the main entrance through the surrounding walls you find yourself in a large set of gardens with buildings around the edges. This included The Harem, a rather impressive set of living quarters. Beyond this was another gateway which took you into a large courtyard with more buildings again. The Imperial Council Chambers occupies the centre with several museums and libraries around the edges.
These museums and libraries house some interesting things - one is laden with all the gifts given to sultans over the years and includes a 62 karat diamond. Whilst I doubt it was the original on show behind the glass, it was still impressive.
Something that did raise some serious doubts was contents of the Pavilion of Sacred Relics. This one housed many religious artefacts such as Mohammed’s sword and cloak. Fair enough, you say. The surprise was what I would have expected to have been claimed by the Vatican should they have been real. The Sword of David, the Arm of John (I’m not sure if this is The Baptist or the gospel writer), and the Staff of Moses!! Naturally no photos were allowed, but somehow I doubt that if these items were the real thing, that they would have been on show in such a fashion behind their glass panels in a small couple of rooms in this series of tourist filled courtyards. Exactly how a wooden staff would have survived the few thousand years it has is another question. And could it be proven?
Anyway, beyond this courtyard was another that overlooked the Bosphorous straight and thankfully had a small restaurant and cafe that allowed for a Turkish coffee to take in the view with.

This is now where our tour went somewhat off the rails. Originally, we were to be going to the Grand Bazaar from here, although as the day progressed, Volkan kept mentioning the Spice Bazaar as well. I wasn’t fussed as I (and others) believed we would be visiting both by day’s end. Somehow, we ended up at a leather house that was complete with fashion show before the sales fellas came out.
To get there, we did take a rather scenic route along the edge of the Bosphorous straight where we saw all the cargo ships anchored and awaiting nightfall before they could pass. A couple of us decined to go in for the fashion show, instead electing to enjoy the warm overhead sun.
Soon, we were back on the road again and after passing under a massive ancient roman aqueduct we arrived at the Spice Bazaar. Nestled alongside the impressive Yeni mosque (see below), this place smelt incredible. Even if the stall that Volkan showed us was a friend of his, at least he was liberal with the samples of the many types of Turkish delights on offer. Okay, I succumbed to a box of them, but damn, they were good! We then took off to explore the rest of alleys and stalls of this bazaar. By the time we were back on the bus, I have to admit that I’d sampled quite a bit.

With the sun setting it was back to the hotel, and after side-swiping a car and getting to sit and watch the ensuing argument between our driver and the car owner was somewhat tedious despite all the arm waving and police intervention.

The evening had us back at the Taşhan cafe for dinner with Shar, Nicole, Paul and myself eating here before joining the rest of our group back at Arkat (they had wanted to witness the male bellydancer of the night before). We called it a reasonably early night as we had a VERY early start to be on the bus by 6am to leave for Gallipoli and Anzac Cove...