to commute, shuttle, traipse, or wander

Knowing what time it really is can be useful. I arrived in Istanbul feeling the ease of familiar surroundings. I had put both the backpack and my little wheelie in the big ugly bag (meant to deter possible theft) and then had it plastic wrapped. Lilly had the idea of putting them together and avoiding an extra bag charge. So once I'd cleared customs and passport control, I headed for a toilet to change some of my clothes, wash up and take my bags out of plastic wrap, got lira from an ATM, and inquired about finding the right Ulusoy bus station. These chores done, I settled down with some dinner.

But I left the airport shortly after, because a clock there read the wrong time by an hour, and because I was afraid I would struggle with getting the right bus station- these are private companies with their own terminals. Alas, the taxi driver took me right to the spot and I had three hours to kill.  This is where books come in handy.

I was anxious whether I would know which bus was mine, because announcements were only in Turkish, so I made sure the guy announcing buses saw my ticket, and he let me know when my bus came in. At another point I asked some women at the next table to watch my bags while I went to the toilet-this you can do in Turkey.

I got to Ayvalik, on the Aegean coast of Turkey, this morning on the bus around 6:30. I took a taxi to the 'center', one of the few words the taxi driver and I had in common. I walked a bit, got some coffee, and then found a small hotel and arranged for them to watch my bags for the day for 15 lira. Maybe a little expensive here. But in dollars well worth it. The guy, Mustafa, knew almost no English, but I said the ferry to Mytilene, then waved my hands around my bags, and eventually he got it. I learned this method of bag storage from Dennis years ago.

I had read about Ayvalik's back streets, which was the primary motivation in finding a place to leave my luggage. I had twisted my ankle at the fish market a few days ago, and walking the cobblestones with a rollie is just too much trouble, no matter how small.

What a treasure trove I found! I need to fill you in on a bit of the history first.  Without going too far back in time, and with a great deal of generalizing, Greece became part of the Ottoman Empire around the mid-1400's,  including this town and the region around it, although inhabited by Greeks. Greece became independent in 1830 after bloody and brutal struggles for independence interspersed with civil war.  Things got so bad that Britain, France and Russia declared Greece a monarchy and established a Bavarian on the throne, followed by a Dane. Greece and Turkey then warred over Crete, and after WWI, they continued to battle over contested territories. The Treaty of Lausanne, reached in 1923, included a population exchange between the two countries. Turkish people living in Greece were relocated to Turkey and Greeks living in Turkey were moved to Greece, in an attempt to avoid ongoing disputes. The resulting upheaval for those who were relocated was tremendous, but that's not the focus of this little history lesson (nor are the later civil war that followed WWII, or the Turkish-Greek battles over Cyprus).

Ayvalik was part of the people swap. So the old, winding, narrow and cobbled streets on which I found myself this morning were originally trod by Greeks. And the Turkish who were 'traded' here came still speaking Greek, having lived in Greece for generations. Olives still grow on the hills around, just the people harvesting have changed.

The town lies on a hillside and many of the streets running hither and yon are too narrow for cars. There are delights around every bend, and I found myself constantly torn between this way and that.  The walls are mostly stone or thick plastered/stucco walls, and there are hidden balconies, patios, gardens tucked in behind a wall, oddly shaped doors, donkey pulled carts, water spigots coming out of stone slabs at irregular intervals. I saw a man working on building a boat on his roof, while his dogs lay nearby. I called out to ask if I could take a photo, but he either didn't hear or didn't care.  I took endless photos, but my new SD card is malfunctioning, so I don't know if I can salvage the photos.

I stink a little, but I'm on the island, a mere 57 hours from the time I left Tyler and Lilly in Maputo.