White city
For three thousand years of its existence, the Turkish Bodrum has witnessed the heyday and decline of many cultures, survived dozens of wars and earthquakes, on its territory were built…

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The pirates of Cilicia
Alanya resort is nestled at the very end of the resort coast of Antalya province. Today, nothing reminds of the stormy history of this peaceful resort town Robber land To…

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Turquoise fairy tale of Green canyon
There is such an interesting science — the psychology of color. It says that green symbolizes peace, blue — spirituality and care, blue — harmony, and turquoise — gives new…

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Kusadasi (Turkey) - emerald tear of the Aegean coast
Tourists who plan to go to a foreign beach resort with young children, it is recommended to pay attention to the Aegean coast of Turkey, Kusadasi resort. This region is…

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If only it were all over the world…

It all started on a frosty morning, when my thirteen-year-old daughter Violetta and I came to the intersection of the Moscow ring road with the Minsk highway, intending to hitchhike to Egypt and there, at the pyramid of Cheops, to celebrate the New year.. I must say that when we were going – and I am no stranger to wandering – the road, as always at the beginning of the road, seemed wide and straight. But I had to drive more than one country, the whole of Eastern Europe and, finally, to come to make it clear that we do not control travel, and circumstances. …Near the turn on Edirne past us at a decent enough speed was a truck, but as soon as the driver saw us, he pressed the brake. An elderly man with gold-rimmed glasses was driving. I immediately said, we are going hitchhiking from Russia to Egypt, And now it would be good to get at least to Istanbul. The driver was delighted: – – – we Can speak Russian. I often visit Russia… Moscow, Rostov, Krasnodar. And now I’m coming home from Hungary. I can take you to southern Turkey. There you can get to the Syrian border in two or three hours. On the bridge thrown over the Bosphorus, we entered Asia and along the sea of Marmara through a continuous series of seaside towns in the evening reached Bursa. They will decide — that was the name of our driver — unlike the vast majority of Turkish drivers did not molest my daughter, so we spent the night right in the cab of the truck, and in the morning on the highway at the turn to Mersin, another truck stopped — “Mercedes”. The driver, learning that we were going to Syria, began to share his unflattering opinion about all the Arabs. For some reason, almost any people unflattering opinions about their neighbors. If you listen, you might think that ahead of you expect solid bandits and crooks. When you cross the border and meet normal people, you hear similar stories about the inhabitants of the country that you just left. The evening of December 31 caught us in Antakia — in the South of Turkey. We left the city in the direction of Aleppo, the nearest Syrian town. It was a warm summer evening. Above us lies the starry sky. They turned off the road and immediately got stuck in the mud. I had to go back and keep going in search of a drier place. In Turkey, foreigners are not allowed to walk on the roads. The locals will not fail to come to talk in English or German. And passing cars brake themselves. The truck stopped. An elderly woman sitting next to the driver, immediately saw us as foreigners, so not so much spoke as gestured. From what I understand, she invited us to her place for the night. We climbed into the back and went with the wind. After a few kilometers, turning on a rural road, stopped at a large, seemingly quite rich, rural house. We met with the whole family: grandfather and grandmother (she invited us), husband (pickup driver) with his wife and four children. Nermin, the host’s wife, had spent two months visiting her uncle in Germany, so she could speak German reasonably well. She acted as translator and narrator: — Recently we have had a couple of the French. They were also going to Syria, but we liked it so much that they stayed here for 10 days. During this time they explored the whole district, climbed the mountains, nakupalis in the sea. You, too, can not rush to go further. We have a big house. In summer we grow tomatoes and cotton, so there is enough work from early morning to late evening. And winter to do nothing to acquire. Selahattin — my husband — will be your guide. The next morning, lost in thought. Back in Moscow, we planned to get to Egypt by New year, or at least to the red sea in Jordan, and then immediately turn back (I had to go to work on January 13, and my daughter — to school). If you go to Syria, you probably will need to stay longer than planned. And the money is almost gone, but when you return to Turkey again have to buy a visa. In addition, our equipment was not designed for this heat — too many warm clothes that have to drag on yourself. At the same time, it is a shame to refuse to visit Syria, which is close at hand. After weighing the pros and cons, he decided to turn back. New year was greeted at a rich festive table, but Muslim: no champagne or other alcoholic beverages. Just for me made an exception, putting the bottle of beer. Finally, Selahattin gave us a tour of Antakya, from which we learned that the city is called Antakya, was founded by Seleucids I Nikator in 300 BC there was a Christian community at the head of which was at one time the Apostle Paul. And on the outskirts of the city in a cave preserved temple of St. Peter. The old town is located on the East Bank of the river Arsi. Now you can see the bridge built during the reign of the Roman Emperor Diocletian (III century ad), the aqueduct and the ancient fortress walls, several mosques in the Arab style and the archaeological Museum, which houses the mosaics of the Roman Empire. After seeing all the local attractions, we were going to get on the road, but Selahattin almost forced us into the bus and paid the driver for the trip to Adana. The bus took us to the city bus station — to the very center of the city. Carrying backpacks, noticeably heavier from winter clothes, we dragged ourselves to the outskirts under the hot rays of the mercilessly scorching January sun. Came older the Turks, and in perfect English said, — You hitch-hikers? Wow! And here there are people who know about hitchhiking. — Yeah. We go to the exit to the highway. He was surprised — Until it is ten kilometers. Then he said, — let’s Go to my shop across the street and have some tea.” After giving us tea and writing down a couple of addresses of their relatives, to whom we can ask for help if necessary, the man stopped the bus and asked the driver, apparently, his friend, to give us a lift to the road. In front of the sign that marks the start of the motorway, we are the only time during the trip to Turkey is “frozen”. The fork was ahead, but we could not go there without breaking the rules. Passed by cars going both in our and in the opposite direction. Stayed willingly, but were all going the other way. The locals from the nearest houses again approached to get acquainted and invited to themselves on tea or on a lodging for the night. The car stopped. The driver leaned out of the window: — Hitchhiking ek! I became not so much words, how many gestures, to explain: — As times only there, where we stand, and can be. And then, behind the sign, which begins the highway anymore. I thought my explanation worked. The driver offered to sit down. Then he drove us a couple of kilometers and stopped at the police station. He began to explain to the police that we are going hitchhiking, and it is prohibited. The policeman looked at me. — Du Yu speek English?” I confirmed and noticed that the policeman was clearly satisfied with my answer. Apparently, his vocabulary of foreign words was exhausted. The conversation with the driver continued in Turkish. As far as I understood, the police officer explained that it is impossible to detain Russians just like that. It is necessary to apply to the Russian Consulate, and this is such a red tape, with which it is better not to communicate. The driver was clearly disappointed and took us back to the old place. Then ten minutes later again approached and began to offer… to visit him. Stopping the crowded car, he explained to the driver that we were going in the direction of Ankara. He nodded happily. We barely squeezed into the back seat and drove off. When the driver turned in the direction of Antakya, I was outraged. We had to go the other way. The driver nodded happily, pointing to the opposite lane. Well, now you have to vote right on the track, breaking the rules. Cursing the incomprehensible driver and fearing to get to the eyes of the Turkish traffic police, we began to climb over the fence separating the oncoming lanes. At that moment, a Mercedes truck was speeding past at high speed. His driver saw us and immediately began to slow down. We rushed him. In the evening we got to Konya — the ancient Turkish city, in the XII century, the former capital of the Seljuk state. Here lived the famous Sufi mystic Rumi and Jalaleddin is the monastery of the Mevlana — the center of the dervish order. And next to the mosque of Alaeddin and the Büyük Karatay medrese. We also remember the city not so much for its historical attractions, as a very thick fog. Three meters away could not see anything. On the outskirts of the city the road began to go uphill, and soon the city became visible at a glance. In the darkness, its lights created a huge carpet that filled the entire valley. I began to look around for a place to sleep. Ahead, a passenger car stopped. The driver walked around, tapping his foot on the wheels. We passed by in silence. After a while the car caught up with us and began to drive slowly from the side. And the driver with interest and even looked hopefully at me. I could not bear the look and reluctantly waved his hand. Naturally, the car immediately slowed down. I opened the door: — We’re going to Antalya. — Gee. I’ll take you to Sparta… Now we went to the South-West, twice transplanted and “Zhiguli” reached Antalya. And from there we had to cross the whole of Turkey… In the last section we were very lucky — I saw the Georgian number on the “Ford”. He waved his hand and asked the driver in Russian to throw up to the border. They squeezed themselves into the front seat and put backpacks under the backs of their heads so as not to beat their heads against the metal cylinders on each of the numerous potholes. We talked about our trip, and Zuri Davitadze — about his business: — Every two weeks I go for gas in Turkey, and then sell it in our Batumi. That’s how I make my living. And before that he worked for two years at customs. I made a good living, but I like my free life better. The apartment is, enough money for food, half the city — my friends. Why would I want to be a millionaire? Here is the CIS border.

Turkey
Turkey — Turkiye Cumhurieti is a country of rare beauty and diversity, located on the border of Europe and Asia. It has an area of 779 452 sq km. the…

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Antalya miracle travel
If the rest in Antalya you associate only with the beach, then consider that you are behind... about 100 years. And, perhaps, for the whole Millennium! After all, in the…

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Cradle of civilization
Turkey is the heir of the great ancient peoples: the Amazons, the Lycians, Byzantines. States appeared and developed on its territory, great cities were built and Christianity was born. The…

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ANATOLIA. Two routes
Pamukkale. Rain over Hierapolis Five o'clock in the morning. Even darker. My not yet had time to finally Wake up fellow travelers sleepily climb into the cabin of the bus.…

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