Venice: The very best place to get lost

After an early start and a courageous lift to the airport (well, I say courageous, I mustered strength not to scream at the almost collisions our hurtling driver avoided) we had a bit of a sit before boarding Turkish Airlines flight to Venice.image

You get off the plane and you could be anywhere really, airports are airports, exit lounges taxi ranks and car parks are too. We walked to a “water bus” stop, in a muddy ditch amongst unremarkable mudflats and waited for our ride.image

Once aboard a packed water bus, we leisurely motored around a channel, across a vast lagoon and were transported to another world as a city rose around us, out of the now blueish water, coalescing into canals crisscrossing raised land, buildings joined by bridges, boats of all shapes and colours imaginable. I had read about Venice but nothing prepares you for the actuality.image

We wandered, turning this way and that, trailing suitcases, eyes wide and mouth open, in the general direction of our accomodation, meeting our landlord eventually at ground level, then up 2 ancient flights of stairs to our apartment – a bright, sunny, comfortable newly renovated marvel. After some brief but incomplete instruction (we assumed much, like we would be able to work the heating and washing machine- neither of which we completely mastered) but we were in, comfortable and raring to explore.image

We had maps, but generally just set off in more or less the right direction, each turn offered an amazing and changing vistas of narrow crooked lane or canal. There are no roads, no cars or bicycles, the footpaths are higgletypigglety stonework (hard on tired feet) that open up into squares full of cafes, shops, wine bars and churches.image

This city makes no sense – only a madman would decide to perch a whole city on stilts set into estuary mud just a little above sea level but thankfully madmen persisted and the resultant ancient city is wonderful. Clearly they are having flooding issues, many of the ground floors (no basements here except in the Cousteau’s house) have been abandoned because of damp/flooding. Many streets had stacked raised platforms to make walkways when the tide is extra high. To get around you walk, catch a water bus or if you are made of money you call a water taxi or gondolier. Charges for the latter 2 options take your breath away – private gondoliers begin charging at 60 euro per half hour or part thereof but there are cheaper options if you look. We caught passenger gondolas for nearly nothing and the water bus is a good service that runs until late in the night.image

Our first night we went to an Osteria and had cicchetti (a little like crostini – bread topped with various hot and cold things, we had creamy smoked cod, salmon and artichoke, sardines, stuffed olives and many more delicious morsels) and wine – chianti for me, proseco for Jo. Such a yummy dinner, followed to a gelitaria for some deliciousa gelato. Walking around at night, apart from being chilly this time of year, feels safe, friendly and the majority of the streets and squares are well lit. The city breathes history and romance – we walked for hours and used the water bus to tour the Grand Canal at night, so we could repeat it during the day.image

We had “skip the queue” passes we had bought on the Internet for St Mark’s Basilica – an ancient, crumbling but currently under restoration marvel of mosaic and over the top marble embellishment through which we wandered the interior in awe. It is clear that old churches particularly were designed with a couple of design premises, apart from functional building, the scale seems to deliberately diminish the worshippers, make them seem small and insignificant. The other is to embellish in many over the top ways – St Mark’s from the second level gallery up into the domes has gold encrusted mosaics of astonishing beauty, honestly it is overwhelming looking up towards the heavens. We also took the elevator to the top of the adjacent tower for astonishing panoramic views of the whole of Venice (and the startling realisation that we had walked much of it in the short time we have been here).image

We spent 2 days swept up in the magic that was Venice; shopping, eating and drinking, walking and exploring but early on we both realised we needed to come back and do it at a more leisurely pace. We wanted a taste of Venice, wel liked what we had but want more and vow to return.image

From here, we catch a train to Florence, another adventure awaits us there.

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How Bazaar (or what to do on a “rest” day in Istanbul)

Knowing that travel is exhausting, we have a number of strategically planned “rest days” in our schedule – today was one of them. Our theory, the day can take on whatever form is needed and we needed a sleep in.

After a leisurely snooze, I got up, showered and went to the bakery down the road for a simit and “bagel”, then on to the market for some yoghurt and milk, returning to the unit for a late breakfast. The “bagel” was more like a brioche, but a satisfying breakfast and good start to a cold, blowy and wet day.image

We decided to head off to the Grand Bazaar, a rabbit-warren like maze of markets in the vague hope of finding a Turkish rug that we want to hang on our wall, that we both like and that we could afford.image

After some initial market research a few days earlier, we decided a “Kilm” wast the style of rug we wanted – hand woven, not knotted, and we also had a fairly specific colour palette in mind, so it goes with our polished floors, walls, furniture etc.image

Even looking like you might be in the market for a carpet is a great way to make new special friends. We were cajoled into countless shops, sat down with Apple tea and shown many things that were clearly not what we asked for, were not in the dimensions that would work and were not even close to colours we asked for – they have to try. Leaving the shop is MUCH harder than getting in but we finally began finding styles that were different, high craftsmanship values, striking designs and colours that worked.image

After an exhaustive process of narrowing down things we liked and did not like, it came down to a lovely wool on wool piece with tulips and grains (sorry, not gluten free 😛 ) and then came the haggling. Neither of us are good at this, our normal poker face dissolves into indecision about how far we can push, but are happy that we drove the price down well below that which we has set as our internal budget for the piece.image

Elated we had secured a carpet we both liked (never a certainty), we headed off for some lunch, a type of Doner with large slices of meat on a puffy bread with salad and condiments – delicious. On a side note, we misplaced Jo’s hat and even after retracing steps were unsuccessful at recovering it – I guess that is an opportunity to buy something else perhaps in Venice or beyond.image

We spent a leisurely afternoon getting warm, dry, catching up with family and friends (you gotta get some Skype credit, phone calls from any wifi point to anywhere in the world for literally cents, amazing) and blogging, photo culling and packing.

We have a restaurant dinner tonight (hoping to try Testi kebab/stew – meal cooked in a clay pot and cracked open at the Table) and then leave tomorrow morning for Venice. We have had 2 loads of washing done so are well stocked again with clean stuff, hoping for warmer weather as we head through Italy.

Postscript: Dinner on an enclosed rooftop terrace, a “crackpot” of an ideaimage

The lamb and pepper casserole inside was steamy, succulent and fairly gently spiced, served with bread to mop up the juices – yum.image

Overall a cold and wet day, apparently it is 8 degrees but feels like 3 because of the wind and driving rain. Returning to a warm unit to finish packing what we can and dry out our shoes for tomorrow.image

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A hill too far – Our visit to Gallipoli

We awoke early and waited to be picked up outside our local bakery, it was still dark and cold and we were concerned about the weather. We knew we had a 5 hour journey to Eceabat which was where our tour left from, so packed well – lots of warm things, snacks and activities to while away the hours.

Surprisingly, after a couple of comfort stops, and time to stretch our legs (busses are as uncomfortable as planes for people with long achey legs) we were near, our first glimpse of the Dardanelles confirmed how busy a sea channel it was, with huge container ships plying against the strong current.image

After lunch and a pit stop, we visited the “Narrows” which was the original blockade on the Dardanelles, and saw the cannon placements that, when coupled with the minefields made safe passage impossible through this important straight.

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Most of the original cannon placements have long since gone but we got a feeling for the gun placement and learned of some local Turk valour and courage including adrenalin-fuelled shell carrying when the mechanical lift got blown up.
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After exploring a number of possible landing sites and theories behind what happened and why, we arrived at a tiny beach named Anzac Cove.

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With headland running down to the beach and rugged steep hills as far as the eye can see, one can only imaging the confusion and difficulty the first few waves of troops faced until they began arriving around the point at North Beach. Their aim, head past the third ridge and take the hill, then work down back behind the gun placement at the narrows and take them out.
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Seemingly not the ideal landing place, but stuff of legend none the less.

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We walked through the cemetery, on to the beach and around the headland towards North Beach. In the distance we could see the first of a series of scaffolded arenas being set up for Anzac Day celebrations soon.

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Leaving nothing but footprints, we headed up towards the arena, then into one of the many cemeteries (representing a tiny fraction of the fallen) that are punctuated throughout the area. A number of battle legends help personalise the battle, we saw “Simpson’s Grave” – one of many medics that evacuated wounded (he was famous for moving leg/arm wounded on a donkey).
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Selfies seemed strangely inappropriate, the area was revered by Australians and Turks alike.
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We then visited “Lone Pine” and realised that this was the site where the trenches were closest, no man’s land.  Down the ridge apparently they played cricket during the evacuation to disguise the fact that they were leaving. It boggles the mind to think that the battle lasted here for 9 months when it was supposed to last only days according to Churchill.

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Much to my surprise there are still remnants of allied and Turkish trenches riddled throughout the area, it gives you a grim picture of “Diggers” clawing an existence on a foreign and inhospitable series of hills.
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Near the end of our tour, we arrived at the ANZAC first objective (reach the hill after the third ridge) which was never achieved. It is now a Turkish memorial, and full of Turks taking selfies, kids on school trips.

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The hilltop was cold and blustery – so much so that there was slush an tiny snowflakes landing on the bus window as we were waiting to leave. We returned to base for a pit stop before the long journey back to Istanbul. One of our comfort stops was at a roadside diner – we had a warm comforting bowl of Kofte stew (meatballs, potatoes, capsicum, carrots in a delicious tomatoey jus) which really hit the spot.

It was a huge day, we got back to our unit after 11pm exhausted but satisfied we now new more about the ANZAC legend and had a better sense of the battle theatre. I understand the importance of the objective, it is clear that the Dardanelles was an important passage but the casualty rate and planning of the whole campaign seems, in retrospect, to be a huge waste of life, resources and one hell of a way to “forge a nation”.

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