On The Road

I set out early in the morning for the Armenian church of Altinsac. I programmed the Zumo to lead me to the village nearby. I zipped past some stunning landscapes

Zumo send me down a dirt road. When I reached a village after 3km I asked for directions and whether I could get there, being doubtful seeing the mountains in front of me. One older gentlemen mimicked that it was possible to walk but that there was no road and that I should go the long way around. I confirmed which way to go with the help of the Zumo, which was again a great hit with the gathered crowd. I followed the new route, which again took me down a dirt road for about 15km to the village of Altinsac, where I asked for directions to the church, which was a further 3km. I parked my bike at the start of a single track below the church.

and walked up to Altinsac Kilisesi

I spent a considerable time exploring and just admiring the view across the lake. The church is completely unprotected and some signs of vandalism and graffiti can be seen.

Eventually I pressed on and made my way to the docks for the Akdemar ferries.

I ferried over with a group of teenagers on a school trip. Just as all the teenager in the world they tried to act very cool. One of them giving his best Titanic impression

There clearly was some dating going on between the boys and the girls. Some shy and some not so shy.

Akdemar island:

Because, as I now realised, it was a Sunday the place was very crowded with school classes singing and dancing and families having a picknick. There was a lot of litter everywhere despite the provided trash bins. However, some of the school kids walked around with trash bag picking up the litter. Maybe there is hope and the next generation will take better care of the environment.

Akdemar Kilisesi

Akdemar Kilisesi

Akdemar Kilisesi: Frescoes

Akdemar Kilisesi

Akdemar Kilisesi: Stone carvings

Its all about timing. This is looking at Altinsac,where I was in the morning

I drove the last 40km to Van in heavy traffic as everyone else was going home too.

I arrived in Van during the Sunday evening rush hour as everyone returned from their picnic at the lake. A football game had just ended and cars sped down the streets honking and waving the flag of the winning team. The sun was shining directly down main street making it impossible to see. So I just parked the bike and had an ice cream. This was some seriously good tasting ice cream! Not sure how they make it but it is somewhere between chewing gum and normal ice cream with a very intense flavor. I went back for more. They guys also make a big show of filling your cone.

I then walked around to find myself a room and with that squared away and the bike safely parked I explored the city.

I ended up spending a few days in Van, taking it easy and exploring the surrounding area. Right at the edge of town is Van castle

I met an older Kurdish gentlemen and his sun at the castle. He had tossed one of his tooth into one of the collapsed buildings and kept showing me the gap in his mouth. Not sure what that was all about but the chap seemed nice enough.

10 km out of town is Yedi Kilise, yet another Armenian church. When I got to the village and stopped to look around this little fella

came up and jumped on the bak of my bike faster than I could say no. He lead me to a hill 2km down a dirt road. Hm, some old ruins for sure but not a church as far as I can tell but he kept saying that this is it. I looked around for a while

and then returned to the village and then I saw the church. Little Yesun led me on top of it where I could look inside through the collapse roof. When I wanted to go around to go inside he kept saying no and shaking his head. Well, I went around anyway but he stayed behind. He clearly wasn’t going to set foot into a Christian church. The door to the church was covered with a wooden fence, almost like they were trying to hide it. Some guys came up and I asked if I could have a look inside but they told me the key is in Van. I stuck around anyway and the key eventually appeared and an older gentlemen showed me around. After taking some pictures I made a donation in the provided box.

The whole experience felt a little odd, almost like they don’t want people to see the church. When I left the village Yesun stood at the side of the road and wanted a ride to Van. I took him for about a kilometer but didn’t want to leave him stranded in Van.

Dinner was the standard Tavuk Doner. The guys told me that everything in their shop was Kurdish. Kurdish doner, Kurdish tea, and Kurdish hot peppers, which I had to try.

Doners to go come with a little zip lock bag of hot peppers.

The men play games and have tea.

They are selling this stuff everywhere right now.

After I took this picture the guy gave me a sample and showed me how to eat it. Very tasty and refreshing but I still don’t know what it is.

With the help of some locals and Murat in Ankara I also lined up the 10,000km warranty service for when I return from Iran. Turns out the mechanic of the official Yamaha shop in town is a XT660 rider himself. They also had a GS in the shop.

I decided to attempt to cross into Iran at the less frequented Esendere-Serou crossing. I couldn’t find out whether it was open for individual travelers with private vehicles but figured I should try. Good thing I did because this turned out to be very scenic drive through Kurdistan.

My I first stop was at Hosap castle

Mountains and more mountains all around with some bizarre landscapes thrown in.

There were some dodgy looking characters around smuggling fuel. Who can blame them with the price differential between the cheapest fuel in the world and the probably most expensive? The only serious military checkpoint was at the Yuksekova turn off. I was invited into the hut and one of the soldiers spoke English pretty well. I filled out a form and got the chair in front of the riffle rack. So I don’t think they felt threatened by me . I was stopped at another checkpoint but the guys just wanted to check out the bike. I declined an invitation for lunch.

At the border I drove past the waiting trucks and buses straight to the front. They only let a certain number of vehicles into the holding pen to processes them. It was a bit disorganized but my new found trucker friends gave me food, tea, and moved me along the various desks. After finishing the Turkish side I had to wait again in front of the Iranian gate. I killed the time sitting in the empty bus behind me. I studied the Iran map with the drivers over cold soft drinks. Once on the Iranian side the process was straight forward and the whole crossing only took 1.5 hours.

The Iranian side seemed markedly drier than Turkey.

I moved on to Orumiyeh, where I promptly got lost. A local rider guided me to my hotel which had elevator music and an English speaking manager, who was a goldmine of information. The room came with a free camel pack, forgotten by some biker more than a year ago.

After a shower I walked around for a while and had the Iranian version of pizza for dinner. If you think you can’t talk on a phone, hold a baby, eat, drive a taxi and shout for customers at the same time you haven’t been to Iran. I was very impressed by this guy.

I came about this roundabout statute of the Golden Boys