Endangered Birds!

We left Şanlıurfa and all its charms (which were few) behind and headed back to Goreme.  It was a long drive.  Along the way, we stopped in Birecik, a nice little town on the Euphrates.  There's nothing too special about the place, unless you're a bald ibis.  In that case, you and 152 others of your species are all that exist on earth.  I'm told there's another population in Morocco, but ornithologists really want them to be two different subspecies.  Either way, these guys are critically endangered.  Over the late 20th century, the bald ibis population plummeted due to the use of pesticides.  And now this is all that's left.  It's actually an improvement, because back in the eighties, they were down to about 30 birds, if I recall what the preserve-guy was saying.  The reason why they're kept caged is that they're migratory.  They'll stay here until February, then they get released.  They'll stay close to Birecik and eventually return here again.  In past years, they've released numbers of them to migrate along their natural routes.  This meant that they got to fly to Syria.  None returned.  So yes, Syria's a tough place for humans and birds.  When we asked what happened to them, the preserve-guy just said they'd been shot for sport by those crazy, ignorant Syrians.   

This gives you a better idea what the bald ibis looks like.  They've very, very ugly.  And they sort of smell bad, too.  But that doesn't mean they should be eradicated.  I can imagine that they're quite majestic in the air.  If you see one, please don't kill it.  

OK, so we were back on the road, covering lots of territory.  We stopped at the same mountain town for lunch and at the same ice cream parlor in Kahramanmaras for delicious ice cream.  As we were outside finishing our cones, this really important-looking motorcade pulled up.  There were uniformed cops and secret service-like guys all over the place.  This very nice van pulled up and out stepped a bunch of well-dressed folks who looked like politicians.  Emre guessed that it was the province's governor.  Soon after they went in, all the cops and secret service guys were eating ice cream and not guarding the governor very closely.  So yes, everybody loves ice cream from Kahramanmaras.

We hit the road again and made it to Goreme by the evening.  I caught a night bus to Istanbul.  The 13-hour ride was once again unpleasant and uncomfortable.  During the night, it rained like crazy.  I mean, downpour-monsoon-like.  By the time we hit Istanbul, it was beautiful.    

Göbekli Tepe

I heard about this place a few years ago and thought it would be cool to visit.  It is touted as the world's oldest temple complex.  No one knows exactly how old it is.  Most estimates date its oldest parts to around 9-10,000BC.  So it's around 12,000 years old.  In fact, some purport that it actually predates permanent human settlements.  Just for a little perspective: the most ancient parts of both Stonehenge and the pyramids are 5,000 years old.  That's pretty impressive, but if you do the math, Göbekli Tepe had been already been around for 7,000 years.  All that historical weight had me pretty excited.  Unfortunately, I was feeling mighty awful.  

When we drove through Şanlıurfa, the news was not good.  Syria was shelling the border.  But this site was around 40 miles away from that.  And who would want to shell a van full of tourists?  The site, like many of the most interesting ancient places, is out in the middle of nowhere.  

This is the main site.  Its location was noted by archaeologists in 1964, but excavation didn't begin until 1995.  Nobody is in a hurry to uncover everything.  It will take decades and who knows what they're gonna find?  So far the results are impressive. 

I managed to stagger out of the van, down the road and into the site.  I was dizzy and weak, but I did see things.  Unfortunately, I missed most of the informative commentary by the site foreman.  He talked and Emre translated.  The rest of the group was completely captivated.  I would have been, too.  The above picture is one of many monoliths from the lowest level of the complex.  What you see is a bull that was carved by human hands 11-12,000 years ago. 

And there are many, many monoliths, all carved with different animals. 

This is a wolf/wild dog/coyote-like creature.

This one is more abstract.  Although those animals look like ducks, I believe they combine to make a warthog.  I would have angled for a better view, but at this point, I was clinging to the railing to avoid falling over. 

Here's some kind of four-legged guy, perhaps a bear or maybe another wolf. 

And this is most likely a crocodile.  I guess they were all over the place in the olden days, as were lions and various other predators.  

This is the basic plan: there is a central pillar with these monoliths radiating outward.  They still haven't decoded the configuration, but if I were a betting man (and I am), I'd say they are placed according to the sun's alignment - just like Stonehenge, only way, way older.  Me, I can totally imagine the hunter-gatherer Solstice blowouts that happened here - lots of dancing and trances and mind-altering herbs and such. 

As the rest of the group circulated around, I was done.  Yes, this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but I felt that if I lingered any longer, I was going to pass out.  I somehow got myself back to the van, laid down on the floor and took a nap.  Due to the situation with Syria, Turkey had stepped up its alert status near the border.  This meant that there were jet fighters flying very fast and low all around us.  Although I was asleep, I dreamed about them.

By now, everybody was pretty much aware that I wasn't in prime form.  Instead of traipsing around Şanlıurfa and then checking into the hotel, it was decided to go to the hotel first.  Thank God for that.  I consulted briefly with the Portland doctors, who had no idea what was wrong with me and then collapsed in my room.  I slept for about 14 hours.  Occasionally, someone would call up from the front desk and ask me questions in Turkish.  I think they were just checking to see if I was still alive.  The rest of the group was out on the town.  They saw the famous Cave of Abraham - the place where the legendary prophet was born (which I regretted not seeing) and the Şanlıurfa bazaar (which I didn't regret seeing as I was heading to Istanbul, home to the bazaar to end all bazaars).  I slept through late lunch, dinner and everything else in between and beyond.  My room was on the third floor, but it was over what I guess was a gathering spot for Şanlıurfans.  I heard several languages that weren't Turkish.  It turns out that they were Kurdish and Arabic.  From the aesthetic standpoint of a musician, neither is as nice to listen to as Turkish, which is really quite pleasant, despite all those umlauts.

Thanks to all that rest, I was a new man in the morning.  It was like the previous day's unpleasantness had never happened.  Once again, the Portland doctors were puzzled, but hey, it wasn't their problem.  It was suggested that I was dehydrated, but I had been guzzling water like nobody's business all day long, so probably not.  I'm pretty sure it had something to do with the high altitude on Nemrut, me being a sea-level dweller and all.  In any case, the day of mass tourism and feeling terrible was over.       

Your Sunday Squirrel

This is hands-down the best squirrel photo I've taken in many a moon.  I was at Denny Park this week.  I had my camera but no peanuts.  There were tons of squirrels around, so I had to fool them into believing I had something for them.  The early stages of photography didn't go well.  It was the usual problem: quick squirrels, slow camera.  After taking many blurrels and tails and empty patches of ground, I stopped to check what I had.  This fellow was looking at me.  He didn't move.  I took his pictures four times.  This is the best shot of all.  I actually really like the obstructing greenery.  It gives it a more "wild" feel.  Enjoy!

Speaking of Sunday Squirrels, the 2013 calendar will be done by the end of the week.  I have some very hard decisions to make, because I have 16 very fine squirrels but only 12 months.  Rest assured, this fellow will be in it.  Whaddaya think, September?  October?  He looks autumnal.  Anyhow, prepare yourselves for the calendar.  As usual, I will be my best customer, but feel free to buy 10 or more.  They make a wonderful gift.  I know.  I gave them as gifts! 

The Dam and the Dogs

After checking out from Adiyaman, we headed east to see one of the engineering wonders of Turkey - the Ataturk Dam.  The picture above gives you no sense of scale, but the thing is gigantic.  It's on the Euphrates (yeah, we're that far east) and generates 30% of all Turkey's power.  So it's very big. 

 

This is downstream from everything.  As you can see, the river was much, much wider once upon a time.  

By this time, I was feeling so ill, I could barely stand.  Just walking to the railing to take the top two pictures had me sweaty and exhausted.  My arms, legs and head ached like the dickens.  So I took a picture of sleeping puppies while everyone else in the group asked questions about the dam.  And then we moved along to one of the greatest archaeological sites on the planet.  

Old, Old Bridge!

 

OK, here we are at the old, old bridge.  But I have to tell you that getting there was an utter ordeal.  The roads were steep and terrible.  Drops from them were sheer and endless.  I basically couldn't look out the window for an hour because we were always almost driving over the edge of something.  Somehow, we made it.  And now, the bridge:

It was built (not personally) by Septimius Severus around 198AD.  I'm always confusing him with Vespasian for some reason.  Severus ruled around 100 years after Vespasian.  It's also worth noting that Severus was succeeded by the suave, charming and thoroughly mad Caracalla.  Enough history, sweet people!  Dig the bridge! 

The last time I was here, it was still the only game in town.  Traffic drove over it without a care - trucks, cars, tractors, buses - all manner of vehicles.  Now it's been replaced by a modern bridge that I didn't take a picture of.  

Here's what it looks like with nobody on it. 

I was feeling pretty woozy, so I didn't do like some in my group and run down a ways the river to take a full-profile shot of the bridge.  This is all you get. 

As we headed away from the morning's sights, someone pointed out Nemrut in the distance.  There it is in the middle.  See it?  It looks weird on account of the artificial pile of rocks over Antiochos' tomb.  See it?  Anyhow, it was our final view of the mountain.  I took this shot from out the window.  The roads had improved enough for that.  Earlier in the morning there was absolutely no chance of that and besides, who the hell wants to take pictures of 200-300 ft. sheer drops anyway?  

So we made it back to Adiyaman to collect our stuff, but it was only 9:30 in the morning.  We still had a lot of sightseeing to do.  Instead of eating breakfast, I took a quick nap.  I awoke feeling worse than ever.  Hooray!

Arsameia and Naked Hercules

Not too far from Nemrut was Antiochos' capital city, Arsameia.  You would think with all the effort and expense that went into building his tomb and temple on Nemrut that the capital would be resplendent.  Well, that's not the case.  You basically get two bas reliefs.  The first is Antiochos shaking hands with Apollo.  That's in really bad condition.  The second is this one with him shaking hands with Hercules.  

"Hello there, Hercules.  I see you're naked.  How's that working out for you?"  Notice how Antiochos is taller than Hercules?  That means he's better.

 

Here's Hercules in greater detail.  He looks pretty good for being 2,000 years old.  

And here's the view from the "city." Honestly, there's nothing left.  Emre said that people lived on the other side of the hill, but that we couldn't go and see it, so I'm thinking this city wasn't all that great to begin with.  

Anyhow, we did a fair amount of climbing around.  Everyone seemed fresh as a daisy - except me.  I had come down from Nemrut feeling dazed and it was slowly getting worse. 

Mt. Nemrut

Around 2,000 years ago, a guy named Antiochos ruled the small but rich Commagene Kingdom.  They made all their money by taxing both Roman and Persian trade.  Well, business was booming in the late BCs and they got so rich that Antiochos had only one choice.  That's right, he built himself an elaborate burial site in the middle of freakin' nowhere and incorporate gods of Persia, gods of Rome and gods from everywhere else.  Well, he built it with very large statues facing east and west.  And then, sadly, he croaked.  According to his wishes, they ended up burying him under about 200 feet of rock.  To this day, that's where he remains.  The glory of the Commagene Kingdom was short-lived and everybody forgot about them for centuries.  Mt. Nemrut was just a weird-looking mountain that nobody climbed.  And so it remained.  Like so many other things around the land, it was rediscovered in the 19th century and has since become a symbol for all the strange stuff you can see in Turkey.  As far as weirdness is concerned, this is perhaps one of the weirdest places you can visit in the entire world.

They got us up at 3:30am, as promised.  We piled into the van and headed out.  There are no photos of that portion of the excursion.  Dark countryside looks the same everywhere, as do tired people.  I sat next to a very nice lawyer from San Jose and we talked about saxophones.  He was at one time a reed man, oboe, clarinet, saxophone, the works.  The road eventually got steeper as I assumed the countryside became more mountainous.  I still couldn't see anything.  

I had been to Nemrut before.  It was a long time ago.  I recalled that in the last few miles, the road had been bad.  I mean really bad.  It was made of basalt blocks, which meant that there were potholes of various sizes everywhere.  This time, however, I kept waiting for (and warning everyone else of) the horrible road up ahead, but it never materialized.  In the time between visits, they had managed to improve the road.  Well, thank you, Turkish road repairers.

After winding steadily up for a long time, we reached the end of the road.  Quite a bit below the summit was a cluster of buildings that housed a cafe, restrooms and the obligatory souvenir stand.  Beyond that and further up was where we wanted to be.  See, the whole point of getting up at this ungodly hour, driving in the dark and climbing to the top like a bunch of goons at the coldest part of the entire day is to witness the sunrise.  It is memorable.  

We jumped out of the bus - at least I did - and began up the mountain.  I was the only one wearing shorts.  It was surprisingly cold.  And the wind was blowing like crazy.  I couldn't remember how far I had to hike the last time.  It didn't seem very far.  Yeah, but I also didn't remember hiking up in the dark, so basically, I remembered nothing correctly.  The way to the top was long and steep.  And cold.  Did I mention that?  After I warmed up, I started sweating.  And breathing hard.  I was out in front of most of the group, being really enthused and all, but all the climbing in the dark was taking something out of me.  Well, it wasn't completely dark.  There was a hint of light to the east.  This is where we'd get our sunrise.  

As the climb progressed, the path became steeper.  This was not a welcome development.  The wind was blowing harder, it was colder and I was more out of breath.  I can't say how far it was.  I want to say at least two miles, but that's a total lie.  It was probably only half that.  All I know is that the latter stages were quite agonizing - I was huffing and puffing like I'd never quit smoking.  The very tall German gals (who were smokers) passed me up, as did the two doctors from Portland.  At last, Emre the guide held us up for the final push.  At this point, let me say this: if you go to Nemrut, be prepared for an uphill ordeal and wear warm clothes.  For God's sake, wear warm clothes.  I was wearing - as I previously stated - shorts, several layers of light shirt (that were fairly soaked with hiking-sweat), some kind of jacket and a baseball hat that I had to turn around to avoid losing to the wind.  Everyone else was far better equipped.  They had long pants, sweaters, real waterproof, wind-proof jackets, wool caps and the good sense to take their time.  But in my defense, I was laying on the beach at Patara only a week before, trying not to look at the old, naked Germans and never imagining that I would be in this locale a week hence.  Seriously, this tour was an impulse buy.  

We got to the top and the sun's status looked like this.  So we waited.  The wind was blowing like some kind of crazy-wind.  I tried my best not to freeze.  There was a platform of sorts at the base of the statues.  I used that as a windbreak.  It actually worked really well.  

 

That's Emre the guide with the scarf around his head.  I heard later that on a high school trip to Nemrut a few years ago, he actually got pneumonia and spent quite a while near death.  Well, this time he was no better prepared.  He actually had to borrow that scarf and the jacket he's wearing from the guy who was working at the cafe below.  Anyhow, our people are mixed in with some others.  In addition to us, there were Spanish, Japanese and, of course, Turks, who were having a better time than anyone.   

 

The sun took its damn sweet time.

 

Come on, you lousy medium-sized, main-stage star!  I'm really cold!

Is it a sunrise yet?  No.

 

Almost there!  Still freezing.  

Ah, there we go!  What followed was a complete photographic phrenzy.  

 

This is why I came on the trip - for the heads.  

 They're all over the place.  This one is either Zeus or Hercules.  I could never tell them apart. 

They once were on these bodies, but time would not allow that.  

 More heads; gods, eagles, all the important stuff.

At this point, it's worth saying that this is one of the greatest places on earth.  Seriously, it is.  Despite the wind and the cold and the hike and the sweating, it should be on everybody's bucket list.  Just go when it's warmer. 

Here is our handsome group.  There's me in the shorts.  Look at how much better prepared everyone except Emre is.  

 

OK, so Antiochos had all those statues built to greet the rising sun, but he wasn't done.  Oh no!  He had an identical set built on the west side of the mountain to bid farewell to the setting sun.  So more heads!  Oh, and the thing that looks like a slag heap in the background is Antiochos' burial mound.  It added another 200 ft. or so to the mountain's height and it's never been excavated.  

 West heads!

 More west heads!

OK, there's me.  The backwards hat is not to alert you to my 'tude.  No, the wind was blowing so hard that I would have lost it had I been wearing it frontwards. 

 West heads again!

 Oh, and here's a bas relief of Antiochos doing something important. 

 The west heads have a great view!

I have no idea how long I was up there, but like all things, this wonderful experience came to an end.  We headed down the path.  The descent was much easier than the climb.  

And here's the sun once again.  

We met up and had tea at the cafe.  My tea had a fly in it.  I was feeling kind of dazed by the whole experience.  But the day was just beginning.  And soon things would get very bad for me.                

Your Sunday Squirrel

OK, I'm really, totally back - even though I still haven't gotten to the most dramatic part of my trip.  However, there are many squirrels in Denny Park and here is one of them.  It's not that he's so good at blending in with trees, it's just that digital cameras tend to merge colors.  This nice squirrel is actually much more gray than he appears, while the tree is predominantly brown.  Factor in the background sunlight and everything gets darker.  I really know my camera well.  And I kind of hate it, too, because it's way too slow to photograph squirrels.  Every shot I've gotten thus far has been pure luck.  And honestly, for each one good shot there have been 10-15 dogs - not actual woof-woof dogs, but bad shots.  Anyhow, this is a relatively good picture that I took recently nearby.  This fellow wasn't very friendly, but he was kind enough to stay relatively still while I took his picture.  Notice how his back foot is turned all the way around.  Freaky! 

The Road to Nemrut

This was all part of the plan.  I knew that even with all the troglodytic attractions that Cappadocia had to offer, I would still have a few days to spare.  That's when I decided to go to Nemrut.  There wasn't that much to it.  I just gave the guy at my hotel some money and waited for the van to pick me up.  The big circle around east-central Turkey would take three days.  The first day is just about getting to Adiyaman, base camp for Nemrut.  Because it's Turkey there are any number of historically significant places we could have stopped, but Emre, our guide, decided we should see a Caravansary - you know, a place where caravans stopped.  These things are all over the place in Turkey, but this one is really well preserved.  Here are some photos:

 The well-preserved entrance...

 

...well-preserved ornament...

...the other side of the well-preserved entrance...

...well-preserved ornament...

...well-preserved ornament... 

...here's where they kept the camels, horses, mules and whatnot.  Dig the cool Stargate effect!

And here's the courtyard.  So how old do you think this place is?  I was thinking 200, maybe 300 years.  But no.  It's 800 years old.  How about that!

The rest of the ride to Adiyaman was photo-free.  But we did eat lunch in the mountains - I ate a whole fish! - and we stopped in Kahramanmaras for ice cream.  This is something that everyone must do if they're in the area.  Quite honestly, it's probably not only the best goat ice cream I've ever had, but probably the best ice cream, period.  One of our group members was a vegan, so she was SOL on the experience.  Well, too bad.  Still, she was very nice.  Just a word about the group: they all turned out to be great.  We were 15 in all, Americans, Dutch, Germans and Australians, plus the driver and guide were Turkish, of course.  

We made it to Adiyaman in the early evening and checked into the Hotel Antiochos, which seemed pretty appropriate, since the next day we were going to see the handiwork of the real Antiochos close up on Nemrut.  We all got to bed early.  Reveille was scheduled for 3:30am.