' Frozen Turkey ' and the Wonders of Istanbul.

There would have been a lot to write about travelling ( cycling ) in Turkey but things don't always turn out as expected and in this case mother nature played a big part in deciding what it was to be. As I mentioned in my last blog, we entered Turkey in freezing conditions, but managed to survive Dogubayazit and in fact began to get used to the cold conditions. What we didn't know was that after leaving Dogubayazit we were to face with more of the unexpected. Two-thirds of Turkey was totally 'whitewashed', by whitewashed I mean covered in snow.
When we finally cycled out of Dogubayazit heading towards Ankara the weather turned for the worse. After about 65 km. heavy snow started to fall making it difficult to cycle and when it became impossible we had to stop at the nearest town to find refuge. We reached Agri and managed to find a place for the night. There was more snow in the morning so we took the coach heading for Ankara some 1,000 km away. The journey lasted about 14 hours and when we arrived in Ankara the bus dropped us at a bus shelter along the highway at 3am in the morning. The city was blanketed in snow and mist, so locating the guesthouse we intended to stay in was not an option as it was 8 km away. We then pushed our bicycles to the Terminal building 500 meters away. Luckily, the security personnels there allowed us to push our bicycles into the modern enclosed terminal to wait out till the morning. There were also other people at the terminal sharing similar problems, some sleeping on the benches. In the morning conditions remain the same and unable to leave the terminal, we boarded another coach out of Ankara towards Istanbul. There was snow most of the way and it was only after we crossed the Bosphorus bridge ( this bridge joins Asia and Europe) did we see greenery. I don't know if we would have been allowed to cycle on the bridge but it would have been a wonderful experience if we could.
Istanbul is one of the biggest cites in the world and is an open history book spanning thousands of years from the ancient civilizations , the Romans and its golden age, in the Byzantine period it was a shining star in the 'dark' medieval European history. After the conquest by the Ottomans in 1453 Istanbul continued to enjoy a glorious period of development and today it is still the European Capital of Culture. What impressed me most are the numerous relics found in the city. Everywhere you go you see relics that tell the story of when, why and by whom it was constructed. To know that many of these relics were built more than a thousand years ago is just unbelievable. For instance looking at the Hagia Sophia it is hard to imagine that what we see today is the result of it being reconstructed for the third time. It was constructed as a church by Emperor Constantine and was burned down during a riot. A second church was ordered on the same spot by Theodosius 11 and inaugurated in 415 AD. However this second church was also burned down during the Revolt in 532 AD. Emperor Justinian 1 (527-565) took the decision to build a bigger Hagia Sophia to what we see today.
During the reign of Mohamed 11, the Conqueror Hagia Sophia was turned into a mosque and today it functions as a museum.
The 'Blue Mosque' is another magnificent building that dominates Istanbul's skyline. Built during the reign of Sultan Ahmed it is still in use and open to visitors free of charge. Outside prayer times, visitors can enter the mosque and even take photographs of the magnificent interior. Plastic bags are supplied to visitors for their shoes and women are required to cover their heads.
It was during the Classical Ottoman Period (1453-1800) that the Empire enjoyed the golden age of Ottoman architecture especially in Istanbul. For over 300 years this architectural style is conspicuous, evident to this day. The masterpieces of this period are the religious complexes and public buildings as seen in Topkapi Palace, Faith, Beyazit and Suleymanyie mosques and Grand Bazaar. And the list goes on.
Istanbul is teeming with tourists even during the winter and while it is difficult to identify the Europeans from the locals, many Japanese, Koreans and Chinese are the visually obvious groups seen around the tourists spots. Indonesians and some Malaysians are also seen.
Turkey is a secular state and while the population is mainly Muslims you get the feeling that the state does not control the individual's private lives. From my observations, a large number of men and women are smokers and many admit that they also drink. However I don't know if there are cases of people being convicted for drinking beer in public or caught for 'khalwat' as often reported in the Malaysian media. Most women including the elders also don't cover their heads. Their dressing seems to lean towards that of the west. Perhaps no one here wants to play God.
Turkey is certainly more expensive than Malaysia so for me I am not able to stay in Istanbul and visit the many locations where payment is required, longer than necessary. Food is also more expensive.
We will resume cycling tomorrow towards the border into Bulgaria and InsyaAllah will be at the border in three days. Thank you to those following my blog, Joe, Deen JB, Dr Lee, Leong, Sunny Soo, Hoy, and others, too many to mention. Your encouragement keeps me going. Take care.

Brrrrrrrrrr!!! Too cold to camp

Snow for breakfast anyone?

Sharing a quiet moment with Atartuk

The 'Blue Mosque'. At night

Turkish schoolgirls queue to enter the museum

At the Hagia Sophia

Inside the Blue Mosque

Aede with Svetlana Shvacheva an ICRC member
at the Grand Bazaar. The Bazaar is so large that it has
at least 20 gates

Fresh seafood available at the waterfront

Archaeological artefacts

Istanbul Waterfront

With a Turkish family

The Galata Tower used to have a Dungeon

Entrance to Istambul University

An ancient column wrapped in steel to
Counter the elements

Interior of The Grand bazaar

A seagull with its lunch

Traffic in Istanbul





The Obelisk Of Theodosius 390 A.D.







No plaque for this ancient relic
(what remains of the Hippodrome, I think)

A Brief Affair With Iran

It is difficult to give a true picture of Iran today given the current situation being continuously distorted by the western media and at the same time the somewhat unbalanced portrayal of the mood of the populace through visuals on TV showing thousands of flag waving and banner carrying crowds shouting praises and support for the ruling elite. Such scenes are also not uncommon in Malaysia where the government in power controls the broadcasting channels. As a visitor just travelling through I see it from a different perspective after talking to the people in the streets. Taheran, for example is a modern metropolis not devoid of people who would freely tell you that they are not in sync with what the government is advocating and in the same breath tell you not to publicise their views for fear of the obvious. What is evident is that most Iranians curb their true feelings in public. The government however should also be commended for its stance in standing up and defying the wishes and the bullying tactics of the west especially the United States .

While enjoying a sunny winter afternoon at Mo'allem Park in Taheran I befriended a gentleman, Reza and his two young daughters Rose 8 and Rozhan 10 who were also enjoying the peaceful surrounding. Reza and his family is a typical modern middle class liberal Iranian family who are well educated and proud to be Iranian. His wife Deeba (means beautiful) is a medical doctor (private practitioner) and they live in a modern apartment. They have satellite TV and have access to hundreds of TV channels from around the world except CNN.Their two daughters speak excellent English and they take lessons in violin, traditional drums and ballet. The girls can tell you about the history of Iran, its culture and the attractions in Tehran and other places in Iran . We were privileged to be guests at their apartment and feted with a typical Iranian meal. That is Iranian warmth and hospitality for you. The family has travelled abroad and hope to visit Malaysia soon.

We did not see many tourists in Iran and those we met were mostly backpackers staying in budget hotels around Amir Kabeer Street. At the Mashhad Hotel that we stayed we met several young Koreans, a Danish and a Thai cyclist, Sawang 39 who is also cycling around in Iran ,Turkey, Armenia, etc.Sawang was a teacher for 9 years before quitting to travel. He is making a study and trying to understand the different religions and searching for inner peace within himself. You can't help but admire such people.

From Tehran we cycled to Karaj some 45 kilometres away and cycling on the streets in Taheran is an absolute nightmare. All motorists treat the streets like the race tracks. No one drives or rides slowly, but the amazing part is when you expect the driver or the rider to crash while swerving through the busy traffic they somehow were able to avoid hitting the other vehicle by mere centimetres or a fraction of a second. To think of it, they are really good drivers and riders. Those with a weak heart are forewarned not gamble their lives driving in Iranian cities. I only saw three Protons, one Gen2 and two Iswaras while in Iran.

Tehran is so big that you can travel for 30 kilometers or more and not come to the edge of the city. Before we knew it we were told that we were already in Karaj, another city. In geography I think we call it conurbation, where two different towns or cities join without a distinct physical boundary. In Karaj we were guests of one Afshin, 31, who is the coach and manager to Milad 21, the top DH (downhill) rider in Iran. Aede met Milad in KL when he came to race there last year and also raced in Kuantan and JB. Milad is a professional DH rider and would travel to races where the prize money can cover his travelling expenses and more. In Malaysia, he finished on the podium at all the DH races that he participated. Milad is going to Canada in April to race there professionally and also hopes to gain PR status if all goes well. The young man really has talent and I do hope he succeeds.

Afshin is another Iranian who is multi-talented and an accomplished extreme sportsman. He is a taekwando black belt holder, a kick boxer,  an accomplished DH and cross-country rider,  mountaineer, ice climber and ski instructor among other things. He is also a certified Shimano bicycle technician (mechanic) and sponsored by Merida. We were his guests and while at his apartment he exhibited extreme kindness and generosity taking care of all our needs beyond all expectations . We can never repay or replicate his deeds should he be our guest in Malaysia. Wherever we went we were always greeted warmly and I have to admit that Iran and Iranians are not what the West would like us to believe.

Besides joining Milad during his training session at the rocky hills in Karaj we were also guests at his family apartment for a sumptuous dinner prepared by his mother. Joining the dinner were his entire family including his grandfather, grandmother, his uncle, aunt and cousins. While our stay in Iran was brief, we shall always remember it with fond memories.

Although there is a lot to see and do in Iran we did not extend our 14 day Iran visa as we were not able to cycle most of the way due to the extreme weather conditions and unforgiving terrain. We headed for Maku, the border town separating Iran and Turkey. Much of the way is mountainous with steep slopes covered in snow. Traffic was light but after Tabriz there was heavy snowfall and traffic moved slowly. On reaching Maku we had to push our fully ' loaded' bicycles for for about 1 kilometer to the top of a hill where the Immigration posts of both Iran and Turkey are situated. Luckily the procedures at both sides of the border were hassle-free and in freezing cold we entered Turkey.

As we left the Turkish Immigration post we were greeted with the most stunning view of the legendary Mount Ararat where Noah's Ark was said to have landed. The 5,165 meter mountain and all the plains around it were totally covered in snow and in spite of the sub zero temperatures we decided to enjoy the scenery while cycling to the nearest town, Dogubayazit 35 kilometers away. It was a bad decision because we not only had to tackle the hill-slopes, we were also faced with very strong headwind (must be between 20 to 25 kph) that we even had to pedal going downhill. Thank God, that after cycling for about 15 kilometers, a kind gentleman noticing how hard we were struggling, stopped his van to give us a lift into town, otherwise we not only would take at least another hour to cover the short distance to town, but we could even have suffered frostbite.

Dogubayazit is a small town where the people are mostly Kurds (that's what we were told) and not many people here speak English. The people are however friendly with foreign tourists, always smiling and wanting to know where they are from. Among the most famous tourist attraction here is Mount Ararat that can be seen from just about anywhere in town . The 5,165 metre mountain is now totally covered in snow but in summer only the top 400 meters of its summit will be covered in snow. The mountain is very similar to that of Fujiyama in Japan but don't offend the locals by saying that Ararat looks like Fujiyama, instead one should say that Fujiyama looks like Ararat. That is what we call patriotism. You can trek up the mountain in 4 days but you will need to apply for a permit (USD50) and use a guide. Skiing is also possible on its slopes. The other attraction is the Ishak Pasa Palace,5 kilometers away, situated on a hill overlooking the town.











- With Reza, Dr Deeba ,Rose and Rozhan





Cycling in Taheran




Milad in training,Karaj


















Not practical to cycle in these conditions




The 5,165 meter Mount Ararat

J

Location:Tehran and Karaj before crossing into Turkey

The harsh realities of travelling in Pakistan and Iran

While staying in Pakistan had been made pleasant and memorable by the extremely generous and hospitable people in spite of the country's complex security situations, leaving Pakistan itself is a complicated process. With the inability to cycle most of the way across Pakistan from Multan to cross the border at Taftan , we headed back to Lahore where our Pakistan adventure began to board the train and headed for Ouetta in Balochistan where much violence had taken place since 9/11. Although Balochistan constitutes about half the land area of Pakistan, the population is less than 10 million, people who feel that they should not be part of Pakistan. The land is largely unpopulated with large areas of barren and mountainous hostile regions that stretch for hundreds of kilometers. It is really not clear if the government in Islamabad and the military have real control of the province.
After a three-hour delay we finally boarded the train at Lahore in what was supposed to be a journey of 24 hours. All the 'sleepers' were taken and we were left with window seats. The deplorable state of the coaches, the slow speed and the countless numbers of stops add to the extreme discomfort we had to endure. Hordes of hawkers peddling all kinds of goods from food and drinks to mobile telephone chargers would swarm the train trying to sell their wares making it impossible to even have 40 winks. The stops could be from five to ten minutes at the stations and at some stations the train would stop for up to 30 minutes to allow the train coming from the opposite direction to pass. At one station we stopped for five hours because the train before us was attacked by insurgents ( bandits?) and the workers staged an instant strike. The train only started moving again only when the negotiations were successful.
We actually spent two nights on the train and finally arrived in Quetta after 38 long hours. It was freezing cold in Quetta and after retrieving our bicycles from the luggage coach we cycled to town looking for a guesthouse/hotel. Quetta looked like a war zone with armed security personnels at road junctions and 'sensitive' buildings. After making some inquiries we found a hotel that suited our budget, relieved to finally be able to take a much needed rest. We did not venture out to explore the place because before we came here we were told that we (Malays) look like the Hazzaras, enemy of the Balochistans, and they have been known to attack and kill the Hazzaras without provocations. It was cold and in some places snow were still present. With temperatures in the negatives we were not at all eager to venture out anyway.
During our brief stay in Quetta we were able to interact with some of the locals and understand the mood. Of the town, Quetta, it is teeming with people of many ethnic groups including Afghans and foreign relief workers working for foreign medical centers. We are told that some of the Afghans here are undergoing psychiatric treatment, a direct result of the Afghan conflict. An entire mall is devoted to house medical clinics and pharmacies located near our hotel. A large number of ambulances are also evident in town.
From Quetta to Taftan (at the border with Iran) we again had to take the coach (bus) as we were advised against cycling for our own safety. The journey took 12 hours with half a dozen stops for security checks where our passports were checked and particulars recorded. An armed policeman was also on the bus throughout the journey. Much of the landscape is harsh and barren with little human activity. Unless you are very tough and ready to face all hardships now is not the time to travel in Pakistan, just stay home. While the distance from Lahore to Taftan is about 2,000 kilometers the actual distance we cycled in Pakistan is only about 700 kilometers
The process of getting a 14-day entry visa into Iran at the Immigration post took about one and a half hours and once we left the border post we again faced conditions not dissimilar to that in Pakistan. Security seemed to be the same concern with the presence of security personnels ( police or military) were evident. Travelling from the border post to Zahedan we had to be escorted and go through several checks along the way and on reaching Zahedan we had to report to the local police before we were allowed to board the coach heading for Tehran. A thorough check of our luggage was made before it went into the luggage compartment. The 12-hour ride from Zahedan to Tehran involved at least 10 police checks. At one checkpoint all passengers had to disembark and all luggage inspected while at another a 'sniffer' dog was used to frisk passengers and luggage. This process was to ensure that no drugs were present on board.
The landscape in Iran is similar to that of Quetta to Taftan, where much of the land is barren with some snow-capped mountains in the distance. The cities and towns are however much cleaner and more orderly. While city traffic is as chaotic no donkey carts or the three-wheel motor rickshaws are present.
Tehran is a huge city said to be the 27th or 30th largest city in the world. It has a population of more than 17 million. The traffic is no less chaotic than say in Hanoi or Kolkata. You don't see many luxury vehicles like the Mercs or the BMWs on the road.They are mostly Peugeots especially locally produced Peugeot 405 and the Japanese models. Most evident is the Paykan you can see everywhere you go. It is the replica of the 1966 Hillman Hunter that was produced in Iran. There are more than 2 million of these vehicles produced and production only stopped in 2005. Iranians have a passion for speed and all drivers drive fast even in the busiest streets. While we complain about the nuisance of ' Mat Rempits'on our roads, here in Iran all motorcyclists are 'Mat Rempits'. More on Iran in my next blog.





Hundreds of graves on the way to Quetta





He ain't heavy he's my brother





Never alone











Snow capped mountains in Quetta





At the Taftan border





Terrain in Iran





My young friends in Tehran





With Milad Iran's top DH rider










Riding in Tehran

Peshawar - The oldest living City in South Asia

If you ever come to Pakistan be sure to visit Peshawar, the capital of Pakhtunkhawa, formerly the North West Frontier Province (NWFP) which runs for over 1,100km along the border with Afghanistan. The famous Khyber Pass linking Pakistan to Afghanistan is the most direct route from Kabul to Peshawar. Peshawar is perhaps the oldest living city in this part of the world where ancient traditions mingle with those of today's modern lifestyle. The old city has been featured in a number of Hollywood movies ( including Rambo ||| ) featuring tribesmen walking the streets armed to the teeth (they have now been forbidden to walk armed in the town). It is however still possible to buy guns here.

In Peshawar we (me and my son) had the good fortune to meet with 'Prince' Mahir Ullah Khan, President of The Peace Welfare and Development Organization and together with Kausar Hussain kindly acted as guides showed us around the city's notable buildings and sites. These two gentlemen are registered tourist guides and are well known in Peahawar. 'Prince' is a colourful character who is not only known to the man in the streets but to those holding high positions in government. They are also active in voluntary charitable work.

Walking along the labyrinth of narrow lanes and bazaars in the old city brings you back to the times dating back to Buddhist, Mughal and Sikh periods when traders, travellers, Pathan tribesmen and Afghans mingle to trade their wares or share stories of their travels in the traditional teahouses with those arriving with their caravans from different parts of the world. Some of these centuries old tea shops are still doing roaring business to this day.

Some of the interesting buildings in the old city are listed below:

The Mahabat Khan Mosque that was built in 1670 is a Mughal mosque named after the regional governor of that time. Its open courtyard has an ablution pond and the prayer hall is flanked by two tall minarets. In Sikh times under the governorship of the Italian mercenary Paolo de Avitabile the minarets were frequently used as a substitute for gallows.

The All Saints' Church, located inside the old city, is unique as it looks like a mosque. In the words of one of its founding fathers, Reverand Warthington Jukes, "Its architecture is a successful adaptation of mosque architecture to the purposes of Christian worship.

Also, in the old city is the ancestral house of the famous Bollywood actor Raj Kapoor, and nearby is Dilip Kumar's house

The Peshawar Club established in 1864 as a small hut for Peshawar Vale Hunt enthusiasts, became the social hub of social life for British families in Peshawar. It was meant exclusively for the Europeans (like the Selangor Club and Lake Club were in KL) , a venue for the memsahibs' afternoon tea parties and other social gatherings. After the creation of Pakistan, this institution retained many of its time- honoured club etiquette and traditions. A few years ago, however, the military took over the club adminstration and named it 'Garrison Club'. The club is the cradle of squash in the region. The famous 'Khan dynasty' that has dominated international squash for more than half a century began its modest beginnings here.

Balahisar Fort is the most imposing structure in Peshawar. Built by the Sikhs in 1834, it has been the headquarters of the Frontier Corps since 1907 and is still used by the army.It was here that the Koh-i-Noor diamond, which is now part of the British Crown Jewels was taken from the former Afghan rulers by the Sikhs. It was later acquired by the East India Company after the annexation of Peshawar in 1849 and later presented to Her Majesty Queen Victoria in 1850. (Some of my colleagues from Brinsford might remember of the Koh-i-Noor restaurant we used to frequent in Wolverhampton).

It was also in Peshawar in mid 19th century that the British elite Corps of Guides adopted the Khaki (tan) uniform copying the colour of the cloth of the local tribesmen, a perfect camouflage for Frontier warfare. This colour was later adopted by armies all over the world.

Peshawar is one of the oldest cities inhabited continuously from 4-6 century BC as part of the Persian Empire. From then onwards it was ruled in turn by the Mauryans, Greeks, Scythians, Kushans Sasanians, White Huns, Hindu Shahis, Ghaznavids, Ghorids, Suri Afghans, Mughals, Durrani Afghans, Sikhs and the British, before becoming Pakistan in 1947. The ongoing archaeological excavation site at Gor Khatri clearly shows the various levels where different artifacts of different periods are found, some dating back to more that two thousand years.

Also within the Gor Khatri archaeological complex is the Gorak Nath temple constructed in memory of Gorak Nath , a Hindu religious teacher.

Begum Jehan Ara elder dauhgter of Mughal king Shah Jehan came to Peshawar and constructed a caravansarai in Gor Khatri around 1641 AD. This sarai was used by the caravans as a resting place by those who travelled on the Grand Trade route to Afghanistan and Central Asia and from Central Asia to India.

There are also two antique fire engines parked in the old Fire Brigade station. They were manufactured by Merryweather London in 1919 and 1921 .These are among the oldest surviving fire brigade engines in the world.

Darra is the gun factory of the Tribal Areas that we were not able to visit due to time constraint. We are told that the factories started in 1897. In return for turning a blind eye to this illegal Pathan enterprise,the British were guaranteed safe passage along the main roads.. In any case the British believed it is better that the Pathans have inferior weapons of their own making than stolen British-made guns. While the tools are somewhat primitive the forges turn out accurate reproductions of every conceivable sort of weapons, from pen pistols and hand grenades to automatic rifles, Kakashnikov AK-47 and anti-aircraft guns.

Lastly I must mention our visit to the Afghan refugee camp managed by 'Prince' on the outskirts of Peshawar. It is heartbreaking to see small children existing on the barest of necessities and never knowing what the future holds. All were born here and have never ventured beyond the confines of the camp. Many of these children do not have shoes or proper clothes and do not attend school as they are 'forced' to work at the brick factory at the camp to earn some money that help to feed the families.


Some of you may be wondering why I don't blog regularly. The truth is I am blogging using the iPad and most of the places I end up in, do not have WiFi connections and going out to the Internet cafes is not an option. In Pakistan we have power cuts every few hours throughout the day and night. Power cuts take place in all the cities and towns all over Pakistan even in the capital Islamabad. No Malaysian will understand this because in Malaysia we have electricity throughout the day and night. It is frustrating even to watch the TV when the programmes goes off the screen. Try to imagine yourself at the computer and suddenly the power goes off and will come on again two hours later. Not only that, gas and petrol are also in shortage here. After this blog I should be in Iran, and from some sources, it is also not an easy place for travellers. For those following my blog I thank you all very much and do bear with me. I have interesting tales to tell but there is only so much I can do. It is also winter now and the cold add up to problems as well.

With the colorful Prince

The children at the Refugee Camp near Peshawar

The antique Fire Engine at Gor Khatri in Peshawar

The excavation site in Gor Khatri

Saying goodbye to Friends

The All Saints' Church

That's me and the 'Prince' in his den

The brick factory at the camp

This tea shop have been operating for more than 300 years

The streets are narrow in the old city

Cycling in winter

The Old Caravan Sarai in the old city