Having spent most of this week looking at ruins, we decided that we couldn’t drive to Istanbul without stopping at the legendary Gallipoli Peninsular.  The battles that were fought here in World War One in 1915 are a major part of British history, perhaps a turning point in world history and to Australians and New Zealanders a key part of the national psyche.  The aim had been to open up the Dardanelles and march on Istanbul, but a combination of stubborn Ottoman resistance, bad luck and bad leadership meant that after a war of attrition the soldiers of the British Empire were pushed off the little strip of land.  As fierce as the fighting was however, it is often referred to by historians as the last of the ‘gentleman wars’ where each side would treat each other with respect and dignity.  To give dad a break from driving and to secure the services of a guide, we decided to take the Gallipoli battlefields tour that was offered by Crowded House hotel.

Brighton Beach, Gallipoli

We started off at Brighton Beach, the place where the amphibious landings were supposed to take place.  Under the cover of darkness however, the boats were drifted up the coast to the little cove which was eventually nicknamed Anzac Cove (which I will come to in a bit).  As with most places in the area, the British wartime nickname has stuck and the beach does have a local name which I can’t remember.  Our tour guide, a man called Bill who is actually mentioned by name in Lonely Planet, took the chance to sit the group down and got out a map to spend 20 minutes or so explaining the general characteristics of the nine month campaign.  I’m not going to go through the history on the blog because I don’t have enough space and I don’t think I will do it justice, but if you have never heard of it, it would definitely be worth looking it up.  The main thing that we gathered from our stop at Brighton Beach was that it was a broad, flat beach which lends itself to a landing.  It was however heavily defended, so it is difficult to go through the 'what-ifs?’ for if the landings hadn’t been blown off course.

Anzac Cove, Gallipoli

Anzac Cove is only two miles up the coast, but there is a massive contrast in the terrain.  The little beach at the cove is surrounded by steep cliffs, which meant that the Australian and New Zealand troops that landed had to immediately climb up the cliffs to attack the Turkish troops that were defending them.  While the terrain is in stark contrast to Brighton Beach, so to were the defences.  At Anzac Cove, only 160 men and a machine gun post were overlooking the beaches and these were actually overcome with ease.  The main objective of the campaign, the heights of Chaunuk Bair, was only 3 miles from the beaches and within a few hours the troops had travelled 2 miles.  At this point however a young Turkish lieutenant colonel got his 160 men to lie down in the grass with fixed bayonets to give the impression that their numbers were larger.  This officer was Mustafa Kemal, later to be known as Ataturk - the founder of modern Turkey.  This bluff held the invaders up and allowed time for Turkish reinforcements to throw the Anzacs back to within a mile of the beaches, where they remained for most of the campaign.

Lone Pine Cemetary, Gallipoli

After Anzac Cove we headed up to North Beach where a large arena has been created.  The huge swell of tourists who came for the Anzac Day ceremonies a few years ago swamped the cemetaries and as a result a joint Turkish/Australian/New Zealander agreement resulted ın the constructıon of an arena where servıces can take place.  In 2015 it will be the 100th anniversary of the Gallipoli campaign and tens of thousands of Aussies and Kiwis are expected.  We had now seen all of the Anzac landing points and therefore headed inland to the heights which were so bitterly fought over.  The main Australian cemetary is called Lone Pine, so called because the intense shelling left only one tree standing.  In four days of fıghting over an area of land about the same size as a football pıtch, 7000 Australians dıed.  A soldıer took a seed from the original 'lone pine’ and the tree that now stands in the middle of the cemetary is the great grandson of that original tree.

Chunuk Bair, Gallipoli

From here we passed several trenches on our way up to Chunuk Bair.  One of the cemetaries is called “Johnston’s Jolly” as the relationship between the Australians and Turks here was particularly jovial - the Aussies lacked tobacco for their cigarettes while the Turks lacked paper and as a result they were always throwing supplies across the trenches to each other.  It was here that our guide showed us a particularly striking bit of war propaganda which encouraged men to sign up for a 'free trip to Great Britain and Europe’.  On our way to the summit we passed by an Ottoman cemetary.  While the soldiers are buried in separate cemetaries, there is a feeling that they are all equal at Gallipoli and this attitude is best summed up by Ataturk’s message to the mothers of foreign soldiers, inscribed in a memorial, which says that ’your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace, after having lost their lives on this land they have become our sons as well’.  We were now approaching the end of the tour and the last stop was Chunuk Bair itself, where there is a major New Zealander cemetary.  The summit was finally captured by Kiwi troops, but it was only held for two days after fierce fighting.  Chunuk Bair is to New Zealanders what Lone Pine is to Australians.

The tour was now over and we headed back to Eceabat, stopping off for some complimetary watermelon from a fruit stall on the way back to the hotel.  It had been a really good tour and I think it was far better for us to have a tour than to try and drive around the sites ourselves.  Sometimes it is better to join the group and get a guide than to travel totally independantly and this was the case today.

The Red Basilica, Bergama

We visited so many places today that it is impossible to choose any one city name for this blog title.  We roughly stuck to the Aegean Coast, so I guess that will do.  I don’t think I have ever visited so many places in one day on my travels, which shows just how useful having a hire car is.  Having arrived in Bergama fairly late last night, we got up early for a look around what the town had to offer.  The name Bergama comes from the ancient city of Pergamum, the acropolis of which still overlooks the city from a huge hill.  Before we drove up to this however we visited the Red Basilica in the town itself.  This Basilica, coined as a ‘pagan temple’ to Egyptian gods is a huge structure that was famously named as one of the 'churches of the Apocolypse’ and the throne of the devil by St John in the book of Revelations.  If anything this inspired our curiosity rather that put us off and, having got there early, we wandered around the ruins in relative peace.

The Acropolis, Pergamum

Next stop was the Acropolis, which was accessed via an extremely steep road up to the windy summit.  The views over the surrounding countryside were amazing - at the foot off the hill was a vast flooded valley that had been made to provide water to an extremely parched area of countryside.  The Acropolis wasn’t quite as impressive as Ephesus or Aphrodisias, but its position was far more impressive.  The most impressive section of the ruins was the theatre, cut into the hillside and with a stunning view out over the countryside below.  Knowing that we were trying to fit a lot into the day, we rushed around the ruins (and probably missed some stuff, but that can’t be helped) and then headed off to the coast.

The theatre, Pergamum

Ayvalik Port

When mum and dad had visited all those years ago, they had stayed at the coastal town of Ayvalik and as it was on our way north to the Gallipoli peninsular we decided to stop off and have a snack.  When my parents had been there last they said that it would be completely different if they came back, due to the vast amounts of construction work that was going on.  It was a really nice location, with a view over to the Greek island of Lesbos and with clear blue seas, but it was also very busy and we spent a long time trying to find a parking space.  We didn’t stay long - only long enough for mum and dad to do some reminiscing and for us to grab a bite to eat, before we carried on our drive around the coast.

Assos Port

The next town on the itinerary was the combined villages of Behramkale and Assos, perched up on the hills above the Aegean Sea and again with views over to Lesbos.  This was the longest section of the drive and took us two hours, but (despite the pretty poor road conditions) was pleasant due to the fact that the road snaked along the coast.  Behramkale was another gem from Lonely Planet which we had never heard of.  The villages are at the top and bottom of a cliff.  We started off in Assos, the old port which has now been re-discovered and is home to lots of classy hotels and restaurants.  It is like those little coastal villages in Italy which are a bit classier and more exclusive than the rest.  We had a drink by the front, before heading back up the windy cobbled paths to the other part of the village, Behramkale.

Athena Temple, Behramkale

This part of village is the kind of picturesque little place that you would probably conjure up if asked to describe a traditional Ottoman settlement.  The cobbled streets ran up through the town at an improbable angle, with little stalls perched along side them.  At the top of the village however was a sight that most places don’t have however - the ruins of a Temple of Athena.  The ruins weren’t hugely impressive and had been partially reconstructed, but the view over the Aegean and to Lesbos was very much worth the climb.  At the top however there was a catastrophe of the highest order.  While trying to take a panorama of the bay on a windy outcrop, I had to put down my Lonely Planet.  All of a sudden, and to my horror, a gush of wind took my precious guidebook off the edge of the cliff.  I hope it is testament to my love of Lonely Planet that instead of just leaving it, I took the long walk around to the bottom of the cliff and then climbed back up to the outcrop that it was wedged on.  This was pretty precarious and the book had landed in a mass of spiderwebs which I had to dip my hand into.  Mum and dad were fretting at the top of the cliff, but thankfully both me and the Lonely Planet made it back to the top with only a few bruises and scratches to show for it.

The horse at Troy

All of this massive time wasting had threatened the chances of us getting into our last sight of the day - the ruins of Troy.  We powered through the Turkish countryside, desperate to get to the Gates of Troy before it shut (though we were ready to try turning the car into a wooden horse, we didn’t think they would fall for that one twice).  Luckily we made it with about half an hour to spare, so I went and got a ticket and made my way through the turnstiles of Troy.  I have to admit, few sights anywhere can conjure up such images of grandeur and deliver so little - the ruins are extremely average and are nothing on Ephesus, Aphrodisias or Pergamum.  What these three ruins don’t have on Troy however is the name and the history, so I think the best part of going is to know that you are following in the footsteps of the A-listers of antiquity.  Perhaps the most amusing part of the ruins was the wooden horse that they had built which you could climb up inside - the windows must have been a recent addition.

It took me about half an hour to quick march around the ruins at Troy before we got back into the car and completed the last stretch of our journey, up to Cannakale on the Asian side of the Gallipoli peninsular.  From there we took the car ferry across the Dardanelles to the little town of Eceabat.  Thankfully our hotel - Crowded House, was literally opposite the ferry terminal and we were able to roll in, shower and then head out for dinner.