Anticipation
For someone who travels full-time, I still get anxious whenever I’m actually on the move and today was no exception. I had no clear idea what to expect. I knew I was supposed to be on a bus to Hopa in far, far eastern Turkey, but that was it. Would it be a proper coach or a minivan? Would it have a toilet on board or lots of bathroom stops, critical for someone with a weak bladder and IBS? I already knew that the bus would come from Trabzon and already have passengers on it, but I have a booked seat so was unlikely to be standing for six hours. Six hours – those two words made me more anxious than anything else.
With no way of communicating with (only) Turkish-speaking taxi drivers, I had to wait for a taxi to come by in order to get to the travel agency. That’s where I thought I would be picking up the bus. I didn’t have to wait long. The driver whisked me to the agency and began to offload my bags when the agency staff spotted me and stopped the driver from further unloading. A lot of discussion in Turkish ensued and the driver motioned me to get back into the taxi. I guessed I was going to the bus pickup point, though he drove out so far that I thought he might be taking me to Hopa. Around two miles out of town he turned into a garage – the one I had spotted on my way to Ani a few days earlier (see my Kars post here) and pulled in. He motioned for me to get out and unloaded my bags. With some hesitant conversation and the use of Google Translate – I found out that this was my bus stop AND that the taxi journey including the pickup near my digs had been paid for by the travel agency. All I had to do now was wait.
To be fair, I had been asked to get to the agency an hour before the bus was due to leave and I still had 45 minutes to wait. The garage had a small café inside, smelling of last night’s kebabs and freshly brewed coffee. I was able to use the toilet there – but decided against having a drink because … you know … a six hour bus journey.
A couple of young men joined me in waiting, backpackers, I assumed waiting for the same bus as me. That gave me confidence. Then a more mature couple, probably local, also joined us.
About 40 minutes later a bus pulled up. The couple wasted no time in showing their tickets and were allowed on. I tried but was turned down. Apparently a different bus. Another five minute wait with the young, smoking men who I detected were from Bulgaria.
The bus departs - eventually ...
Then it turned up. A fairly large and mostly full bus. No toilet on board though. Bags taken, ticket checked and I was allowed to board. I had a single seat near the front (I had booked online) and was happy to be starting the journey. I noticed the backpackers hadn’t joined me, I assumed they wanted a later bus. Then we set off, pulled out onto the main road, travelled 50 metres to the first set of traffic lights and pulled into a lay-by. Engine off. Lots of checking of people’s heads – clipboards out. I was asked to show my ticket again and my passport and I had a real fear that I was going to be kicked off. The two backpackers came to the door and another Google Translate conversation happened. We were there for at least twenty minutes. In that time nobody left the bus and nobody got on. I never did find out what all the kerfuffle was about, but I was just happy that we pulled out, turned right at the traffic lights (the last we saw for six hours) and continued with our journey.
And I was not prepared for what came next.
The Climb.
As you may remember, it had been snowing in Ankara a few weeks previously (see post here) but I had not seen any in Kars apart from the top of mountains seen from the citadel. Now as the bus climbed these empty roads, the landscape began to be speckled with white and before long a carpet of thick snow.
There seemed to be no end to the climbing and as we journeyed on, it became clear that this route was going to be spectacular. We paused for the occasional police check. This was my first long journey in Turkey by road and I had not realised how often vehicles were stopped. There seemed to be a staffed roadblock every few miles. Mostly we were waved through, but on a couple of occasions police officers came on board, once to just do a head count, but on a second occasion to check ID cards and in my case passport. One person was taken off the bus and left in the middle of nowhere with the police. Another wondering for me.
The route began to get more extreme with the road narrowing and taking hairpin bends, the engine screaming in protest at the work it was asked to do. As for me, I was torn between looking out at the gorgeous white scenery and thinking about where the toilet stop might be. Eventually we must have reached the highest point, because the noise from the engine quietened and we could see where the road was going to take us, on a winding route down and down into a luscious green valley.
The descent.
It was in this valley that we came to a stop at a small restaurant which was obviously set up for these journeys. There was a large car park with a minibus already parked up. Fellow passengers disembarked, most with cigarette packets and lighters in hand.
I headed to the loo at the back of the building and came out to see the driver and other staff tucking into a meal which had been pre-ordered for them whilst others queued for food and the inevitable tea. I had brought sandwiches, so retrieved them and ate them in the car park whilst looking at the view. I took a few photos (the only ones of the trip as the bus windows were not clean) and went for a short walk – always keeping the bus in view as I had no idea how long the break was.
Eventually it was time to go and I wondered if the journey onwards could be any better … it was!
As we headed further down a more gentle incline, it became apparent that we were following the route of a small river which was flowing to the left of us. As it powered down the hillside – it became a blur of white froth and the noise accompanied us for over an hour as we made our way down the valley. The road was carved out in places – with some tunnels but mainly deep grooves in the rocks and wonderful views of the countryside which fell away to the right. I have to say this was the most scenic road journey I have ever taken. Whether it would be as spectacular at other times of the year, without the snowmelt feeding the river, I don’t know … but if you get the chance to do this – don’t pass it up, particularly in late March / early April.
The last leg.
Eventually we came into a small town and parked up at a bus station. Again I had no idea how long we would be here for, but I now had a strategy. At the restaurant stop I was beaten to the toilets by a tallish older man who seemed more anxious to get there than me. So when I saw him leave the bus I followed him – not easy as he was fast, BUT he knew where he was going and I am not sure I would have found the toilets on my own. It was a short stop and the last one before Hopa. By now it was starting to go dark, but the last part of the journey was not so scenic. It soon became clear that we were coming into a larger town and as darkness descended we travelled along a well-lit road lined with hotels and restaurants. At one hotel we stopped and several people got off. I was unsure if I should, given that Hopa was not the final stop on the journey and I didn’t want to be carted off to a further destination, but I had seen a YouTube video of Hopa bus station and this wasn’t it, so I stayed, and within 15 minutes the bus reached the tiny bus halt. I was one of the few to get off and in the dark I wasn’t sure what to do next. There was a small staffed cabin which looked like a taxi rank and sure enough someone said (using Google translate) that a taxi would appear soon. Soon was about 20 minutes later, but I was given tea. I hate tea. The taxi took me to my hotel, the same hotel the bus had stopped off at earlier. The cost of that mistake was only about £4 ($6 US) and about an hour, but it was a lesson learnt.
I checked into my room with a sea view – went out to get a proper meal and to see what my home for the next two days had to offer.
