Safranbolu to Akçakoca, turkey, Sunday 18th May

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We had a bit of luck this morning because we had breakfast with a very friendly Dutch couple who were returning in their car to Istanbul. When they heard us discussing bus options with the pension owner, they offered us a lift to Duzce, halfway to Istanbul, and from there we could take a local bus ride of 35 km to our destination - Akçakoca.

Ava and Wilhelm were on a six week holiday and had driven so that they could take their camping gear and have freedom to go where they wanted when they wanted. Ava is a social worker who works with disturbed children who are no longer with their families. Wilhelm has just started his PhD on parts distribution, looking at ways to improve systems to support large industries and agricultural machine users. We chatted along the way with the 300+ kilometres passing easily. We had coffee together at the Duzce bus station then we got on our bus to Akçakoca.

We were buying some simits (quoit shaped bread) from a simit seller who had hopped onto the bus when an unknown man beside the bus stepped on and paid for them for us. We don’t know why, but we thanked him for his generosity. We had learnt to let the bus driver know our true destination rather than just saying “town centre,” so we showed the hotel name and address. This resulted in us being let off at the right spot, with a very short walk to the hotel.

We knew nothing about Akçakoca other than what Mulat had told us, which was that it is starting to be developed as a holiday option for people from Istanbul. It, along with countless other towns, does not rate a mention in the Lonely Planet Guide, which naturally concentrates on places where there are significant sites or natural wonders. It would definitely rate in our guide to enjoyable, beautiful, stress-free places in which to recover from exposure to mass tourism.

The hotel we stayed in is over the road from the beach. This part of the Black Sea has some stretches of dark sand beaches and many parts where the mountains come right down to the sea. Akçakoca has a long foreshore walkway, which has statues relevant to its history, cafes, playgrounds and seats like carts.

There is a lot of development going on to improve and extend it before the summer. The centre of town, with its Ataturk statue, lies behind the harbour and extends up the hills. Small fishing boats line the wharves with the water traffic being such that pedalos can be hired and pedalled out onto the glassy water.

There is a magnificent new mosque, completely different in style to any we have seen. It has a shopping complex beneath it and the most eye catching twin minarets, with blue glass in them which catches the light and looks like they are filled with sea water. Across the road an old building had been demolished and lay in an enormous heap, presenting challenges as in the game of ‘pick up sticks’ for the man and machine working on it.

We were walking to visit the castle, about three kilometres from the hotel. We passed through suburbs of concrete apartment buildings and houses, most with strips of gardens where roses featured, hollyhocks were in bud and honeysuckle spilled over walls. We had been searching in vain for the castle as we walked, since surely it would have been built in a good high, defensive position and would be easy to see from afar. At last we came to a sign to the castle and turned towards the sea and some rolling hills covered in hazelnut orchards. The Genoan castle was a bit of a fizzer as an archaeological site since only two sections of wall remain and there was one small excavation area to look at. As a social site it was wonderful. Set on a hill overlooking the sea, it is a treed park full of picnic tables and seats, with every available spot occupied by families and groups cooking food on fires or portable barbecues. It was about 4.30 pm but full scale meals were in progress and more people kept rolling in. There was a holiday atmosphere. Down below the sea crashed onto the rocks on one side and on the other a path of steps led down to a sandy beach.

We strolled down to the beach and joined the mostly fully dressed people on the sand. Some families had come prepared with bathers but most people, like us, had not expected the day to warm up so much or the sea to look so inviting. We went in paddling and somehow the waves worked their magic and we just relaxed completely and enjoyed the scene. Keith went for a walk to the headland but made little headway because he chatted with a boy who wanted to practise English. He heard that there had been an earthquake in Duzce in 1999 and that many people had lost their lives. It made us think of the many earthquakes that Turkey has suffered and about the preponderance of reinforced concrete buildings as opposed to brick ones. Presumably they offer greater resistance during earthquakes as well as possibly being cheaper to build.

People zoomed around in jet skis, paddled canoes and pedalos and a couple of children, stripped to their underwear, ran in and out of the water.

Only three metres off shore five men lazed on a speed boat, drinking and gently carousing to the loud tunes on their radio, as if they were not part of the family milieu on the beach. Were they saving petrol, avoiding being lost at sea or getting seasick, or what? Everything added up to a delightful atmosphere which we lapped up as both observers and participants.

As we climbed the steps to have a last look at the castle picnic grounds, we met a family who invited us to have a glass of tea. They, like many others, had a charcoal fuelled large samovar which could produce numerous cups of chai. The older man, who invited us, had been a teacher, and his daughter and two sons-in-law were currently teaching. Another daughter, the mother of the two grandchildren, was a nurse. The grandmother and another older lady were working on cross stitch embroideries, which I admired while my fingers itched to be doing some of my own. These people were happy, were enjoying each other’s company in a simple way in a beautiful place, and were open to meeting people and welcoming them. Afterwards we reflected on the values that they showed and the differences between our experiences of hospitality and friendliness in Turkey, in Egypt, Jordan, Greece and Australia.

On the way home we passed a wedding procession of several buses, a couple of taxis and many cars tooting their way through town and down the hill to the reception venue. We didn’t see the bride and groom but the guests were dressed in their best; be it scarf and long skirt or shimmering short evening dress with flowers and sparkles in the hair. Most men wore suits but some were more casually dressed.

There is great value in walking, because we see details that would flash past if we had a car, and we can pause or figure out signs at our own pace. It also allows us to see aspects of ordinary life that, small as they are, add up to an impression of a place and its people.

When we bought some vegetables, we used up all our coins and were left with 50 and 100 lira notes - too large to use in many situations. We don’t know what happens to all the change, but on many occasions we have paid with a note and the person has had to go out to borrow change from a neighbouring shop. The sun was just setting as we passed the harbour and returned to the hotel for a picnic tea in our room.

An unusual sight in Turkey. While nearly all the men in Turkey are frantically smoking themselves to death, the number of women seen smoking would total less than ten in the eight weeks we have been in travelling here.