The day of our mini glitch started the night before for me. I did not flunk a test but I did leave myself open to friendly ribbing.
It had rained and we were camping for the night. We were in Turkey, at a 'Chefs Training School,' close by Amalysia, where we put up our tents for sleeping but were able to use their first class facilities. This included a big lounge with comfortable seating, T V, and fast wireless internet connection, a definite bonus for those of us with laptops. Not only that, the students put their skills to practical use and cooked us a very tasty meal.
I am getting expert now at putting up my tent and pride myself on my ability to match the 'young uns'. However, it wasn't the tent part that was my downfall, rather the sleeping.
When I crawled into my sleeping bag I felt a tinge of apprehension. Was there something moving in my bag? Perhaps the boys had 'apple-pied" my bed. It was very dark but I was sure I could feel something. In the dark, I felt down inside my bag with my hands but couldn't feel anything odd. Evidently, my imagination was working overtime. I called on all my resources of common sense and settled down to sleep. Then as I was dozing off something crawling over my leg sent me shooting out of bed at the rate of 'knots'! Let me add my vocal restraint deserves mention. I never screamed, not even a squeak, I was petrified. I was also wide awake and needed to take some action if I was not to sit and shiver in the cold all night.
I zipped up my bag, dressed and went over to the lounge. Sue was still working and used to taking all sorts of emergencies in her stride. Together, with great caution on my part, we unzipped my bag and inspected it for any evidence of a foreign moving object. Okay, so there was nothing, simply nothing in my bag. To give Sue her due she didn't laugh but she did smile as I slunk back to my bed feeling rather stupid.
Sleep was evasive, my imagination was more than active. I worked out a theory that maybe it was a frog in the tent – by the racket they were making there were heaps of frogs around - maybe I had felt it on the outside of my sleeping bag. I zipped up bag tightly to the top, leaving no gap for any intruding animal or insect. Soon I was so hot I came out in a sweat. By this time, common sense was starting to prevail. If it was a frog how could that hurt me, I opened the zip a little and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
Next morning I made the mistake of telling Sue my theory. Not a good idea but I was trying to justify myself and bring some logic to my night's episode. Now I have to put up with what appears to be friendly concern from the group but remarks that are laced with innuendoes.
"Good night, Esther, there are a lot of frogs near the camp site" or
" Did you have a good sleep, Esther? I hope you didn't have any intruders!"
No one seems to have credited me with the wonderful restraint I used in a scary situation. If I had screamed, I would have wakened them all. On second thoughts if I had screamed, maybe they would have treated me with the respect my age deserves!
Oh well, I guess I'm old enough to take it!
Next morning we had an early start as it was to be a long day's travel and turned out to be a little longer.
Breakfast was at 5.30 am. As I was on cooking group for the day it meant I had to be up at 5am to prepare breakfast. Early rising is no hardship to me. I am the unofficial alarm clock for those who need my services.
The road went along the Black Sea for many miles. It is a very beautiful drive the only thing marring the beauty of the day was a grey sky. There are a number of big towns along the way and in between are dotted little settlements. It would be a great seaside place for a holiday. I thought I may not have the chance of being at the Black Sea again so when we had a short photo stop I went and had a quick paddle in the sea. Okay it was no different from anywhere else but I can say I have been in the Black Sea as well as the Red Sea this trip. I might add the water was very cold.
After travelling along the coast, we turned inland where and went through rocky, bush-covered gorges with high majestic mountains towering above. It had rained the night before as was evidenced by the turbulent, swirling, muddy river that the road followed. The scenery was superb. I had not expected such rugged beauty and grandeur in East Turkey. I am afraid I slipped up on my homework.
The road continued up past the bush-line and into the snow to a pass of almost 2600 mts. The road was narrow with many slips of shaley rock and stone with a steep drop hundreds of meters on the outside. We were in low gear for many miles. When we almost reached the top, George stopped the bus for a photo stop and the odd snowball flew through the air. It was freezing cold.
Going down the other side was fine. A much gentler slope. The scenery was superb. Once down to lower levels we only had thirty kms to go to Yusufeli where we were to camp for the night. The road had narrowed with overhanging trees or jutting rock faces. It took almost two hours! to go 25 km's as our truck is very high. It was dark, as it had taken so long to drive the last stretch of road. On one side of the road was a steep drop to the river and on the other huge rocks jutting out from the rock face.
Only six kilometres to go and disaster struck. We were going round a tight corner when there was a loud graunch as the side of the truck hit a protruding rock face. George came to a grinding halt. It was soon evident that we would have to back off. More graunchy sounds. On inspection in the dark, it was evident that we couldn't drive further that night. The damage to the truck was only minor but negotiating the road in the dark was almost impossible.
Sue with her usual calm expertise soon had arrangements made for a mini bus to pick us up and take us to a hotel for the night. The truck would have to stay put until morning light.
Next day it was ascertained that because of the height of our truck, even if we managed the disaster corner, there was no way we would make a second tighter corner a little further on.
The remedy? We had a free day in Yusufeli while George and Sue had to go back the way we had come, back over the pass to the sea, six hours driving, and then another five hours driving further up the coast before turning inland on another road in to Yusufeli. They left at 6.30am and arrived back at the Yusufeli at 10.30pm, tired but pleased that they had also managed to get the minor repairs fixed on the truck.
Yusufeli is a little village. I had a most relaxing day. I made mud pies with some little children who were playing on the side of the road. It didn't matter that they didn't understand me or I understand them. They accepted me, as someone who could join them in their game of make believes. I showed them how to decorate their cakes with little yellow flowers from the roadside. Such beautiful children with their sparkling eyes and winsome smiles.
Before leaving them, I taught them how to say goodbye in English and how to blow kisses when they said good-bye. They giggled and thought it was fun to blow kisses.
I had another fascinating visit. As I climbed the hill behind the town, I passed this little tin shack about five feet by five. Through the open door and gaps in the iron cladding, puffs of smoke were drifting. I went closer to investigate and there was a woman sitting cross-legged on the floor making bread. She smiled at me and indicated for me to come in. My eyes started to smart from the smoke that was swirling round the dark little enclosure. She was sitting beside a fire, which was burning in a deep hole about two feet wide in the centre of the shed. She was happy to show me her process of making bread in an open pit oven. If the fire cooled down, she added more wood and if it became too hot, she had a long stick with some dangling cloth streamers on the end and she dipped this in what appeared to be a tin of water then twirled it over the fire to dampen down the flames. Beside her, underneath a cloth there was bread waiting for the yeast rise. To her other side a pile of cooked flat bread. She broke off a piece and gave it to me. Crusty, warm, fresh bread.
About two hours later, on returning from my walk she had gone, and her bread too so she must have finished her baking for the day. Over the fire hole was there was a big clay lid cover.
Further down the road a couple of women were sitting on the fence outside their home. One was knitting a beautiful baby jacket in white wool while the other was just talking to her.
It seems the routine these Turkish people live by is so simplistic. Nothing is rushed. The men often sit around playing cards or board games while the women do the chores around the house. It is an accepted role by the women. The women also spend time just standing. It is common to see women on their balconies talking to one another across the street. However, they do get up very early in the morning and work in their gardens. Except for apartments, most homes have their gardens where they grow fresh veggies for their own needs and often extra which they will sell at markets. Early in the morning, you will see either men or women, sometimes young, but usually very old folk working in their gardens or picking fresh veggies for the market.
In most towns markets play an important part in their community, especially produce markets. Not only do they buy and sell but the markets are a social occasion as well.
Next day we travelled on over the border into Georgia.
I was sad to leave Yusufeli. I felt an odd attachment especially to the children.
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