We enjoyed our last moments on the balcony, and our last walk in the streets of Hasankeyf. It is certainly a place that we would like to visit again for an extended period of time. The bus to Van arrived, and had no seats for us. Nevertheless, the driver said that we could just stand until the first stop, at Batman, where passengers were due to get off. This was fine with us. Actually we didn’t stand because Keith was given a cushion for the floor and a man gave up his seat for me.
About 15 kilometres away from Batman we saw a police road block ahead. Another bus had stopped outside a service station. Our driver pulled over and asked the passengers on our bus going to Batman to get out and hop on to the other bus. They were not at all happy, particularly one man who looked like a thunder cloud and kept muttering. Everyone in our bus now had a seat. Our bus then did a U-turn and started off in the direction we had come, the driver telling the passengers something in Turkish. A police car stopped us and our driver had to get out. Most of the other passengers got out and went to the toilet, lit cigarettes, etc, all the things that people do at scheduled breaks in bus trips; things that no-one had thought of doing two minutes before. After a while our driver returned and we kept going in the apparently wrong direction. After about five minutes we headed off on a secondary road which was an alternative route to Van, completely missing our scheduled stop in Batman. At first the driver was fairly tense and subdued but then the passengers started talking with him and soon everyone was laughing and a fine camaraderie had developed. My interpretation of events (but I could be completely wrong) is that we were overloaded and needed to avoid the police check. Our driver spotted the other bus and saw a solution but the irate passenger looked like he would not play along and might dob our driver in. Our driver decided to act cool, as if he was only ever going to drop the Batman passengers off for their connection, which was the other bus. Our bus would then continue its way along the other route to Van, and never intended to go to Batman. The other passengers had played their parts, having been worded up by the driver, and we were no risk since we could not understand or answer questions if we were asked any. At the lunch stop – a real one – the driver ushered us into the café he was eating in and we had a delicious and filling meal of baked vegetables in tomato sauce, salad, rice, bread, water, tea and ayran (a bowl of yoghurt and water mix).
It was quite a party atmosphere as we drove on and at one point the driver stopped to buy soft drink for everyone on the bus. The scenery was very beautiful, with streams and glades of trees, with hills and snow capped mountains surrounding them.
Lake Van is enormous. We drove past the Island of Akdamar where there are the remains of a palace church built between 915 and 922 by a monk architect called Manuel. It was later converted into a monastery and has some significant artworks there. It is quite a long way from the shore, but looked like it would have been a wonderful place to visit. A poignant love story is responsible for the island’s name. A young girl called Tamara lived in the isolated and strict monastic community there. One day a young man swam over, met her and they fell in love. He returned to the mainland and each evening Tamara lit a lamp to guide him as he swam over to meet her. The jealous daughter of the Abbot told her father, who was very angry. One night when the waves were too rough for swimming, Tamara did not light her lamp. The Abbot took the opportunity to light a lamp and lure the young man into the waves. He kept moving the light around the island until eventually the boy was nearly drowned. With his last breath he called out “Oh, Tamara!” Tamara heard him and rushed to the shore but she was too late. She threw herself into the waves to die with him. The island became known as ‘Oh Tamara’ which gradually changed to Akdamar.
Eventually we arrived in Van, and once again the final stop was not anywhere that we expected it to be. In our haste to hop off into the peak hour pedestrian traffic, I left my hat behind. We walked in the direction of a cheap hotel but were intercepted by a student studying to be a tourist guide. She led us to a very good and cheap hotel that had everything that our room in Hasankayf had lacked. Ah, luxury! A man who could not provide anything vegetarian in his café walked us to another restaurant that could. The centre of Van seemed very modern, with wide streets and lots of shops selling western style clothes. It is a University city, so there were lots of groups of young people walking around. 
We found this ancient mosque in the back streets of Hasankeyf, but we didn't have any information about it.
Turkish cemeteries are often in the main street if a village. We admired the poppies growing in this cemetery on our way to find an internet cafe.
This playground in the main street of Hasankeyf has rather rusty equipment, reminding us of the suburban playgrounds of our childhoods.
We admired the beautiful mountains as we looked out the windscreen of the minibus taking us to Van, but we did not admire the driver's frequent smoking. People (men) smoke everywhere and all the time in Turkey with apparently very few smoke free places.
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