Actually, the transit to the domestic flight in Istanbul (“not Constantinople”) is worth mentioning: I decided to stop to get some local currency (Turkish New Lire) from an ATM which turned out to be a bad idea, as there were fast-filling crowds of people from the former Soviet Union trying to enter Turkey, each visa processing procedure taking at least ten minutes. At the rate things were going I might have caught my flight by 2015! In one of the queues I saw some people from the Cairo flight and explained that I had around 30 minutes to catch my Ankara flight and they generously let me get in front of them – there really are kind people in the world. After a mad dash to get to the Domestic Terminal and my gate, I arrived just in time to get on the plane.

But, as the man said, “Wait, there’s more”: I arrived in Ankara and discovered that my bag wasn’t there… Well actually it was, and a very friendly member of the airport’s ground staff explained that I had to go to the International Terminal to get my suitcase. When I arrived, I was ushered in by staff there, and my bag duly arrived, the last off the plane.

AND, there’s more to this story: As I was leaving the terminal there was a guy next to me also looking to hail a cab. Interestingly, he was a Kiwi, and has lived in Ankara for sixteen years, teaching English. (“Too long”, he said.) With the taxi drivers demanding extortionate amounts for the journey, the guy suggested we take a ‘Havash’ bus, which cost a whopping TNL 10 (around USD $6). The busses are modern, clean and comfortable. After around thirty minutes, I was instructed to get off at the next stop and switch to a cab. The cabbie was not too happy with the short trip, so I paid him TNL 5 (USD $3), and turned to reach for my suitcase, which suddenly disappeared – fortunately into the hotel by a rather cheeky, quick acting staff member. It became a joke between us for the rest of the day.
The Hotel Ogulturk is in the oldest, most interesting part of Ankara, where one can see virtually the history of Turkish civilisation in its buildings. There are Roman ruins – would you believe a Third Century A.D. temple dedicated to Augustus Caesar with a mosque in the middle of it? – as well as structures like the Ankara Citadel and other buildings that date back to Ottoman times, through to ugly, East German inspired, Soviet style architecture (like many recently constructed apartments in Downtown Auckland) through to some somewhat attractive modern buildings.
The first thing that struck me was how friendly the hotel staff was, especially noticeable after my experience in Cairo. They made me feel right at home and the check-in procedure took only a couple of minutes. I had to wait a whole five minutes for my room to be readied, and was offered tea for my troubles. This is why I prefer to stay in budget hotels. I think they work harder for their guests, especially those travelling from overseas in the off-season. How many hotels will open its restaurant for one guest?

After three weeks of hard slog, I was ready to collapse – must be getting old, methinks, and slept virtually the entire day, followed by a good eight hours of night time sleep.

The weekend was spent exploring the local environs, taking photos and exhausting myself by walking up the hill to the Ankara Citadel. It’s steep! Still, I got to the top, which allowed me to take some excellent photos of the city. Next time I come, I’ll bring some proper hiking boots. My business shoes just didn’t cut it, especially when having to watch out for ice on the pavement.
My workweek began with a meeting with NZ’s Trade Commissioner who was very helpful in bringing me up to speed with the situation in the marketplace for my training business. Actually, it sounds like there are more opportunities for doing business consulting than, say, the biz skills training work I do elsewhere, and I’ve sent him a brief of the areas where I might be of value to businesses here.

The following day, I met with our ambassador, Hamish Cooper (no relation) as a follow up to the chat I had with him in Auckland last October. He pretty much confirmed my impression that it may be five years before the Turkish market has evolved to where I might be able to do business.

With a couple of days to run before I head back to NZ, I’m hoping to do some tourist-type activities. The weather has changed to cold and showers (as opposed to cold and sunny), so a trip to the Ataturk Museum might be an option, as well as catching up on rest and a few loose ends, with regards to business chores.

A Diet Doner?
Turkish cuisine is world renowned, with Middle Eastern and European influences. Certainly, I have found the food fresh, tasty and cheap, especially bought from local outlets. A couple of days ago I had a doner kebap (local spelling) at a place that, as humorist Dave Barry would say, “I’m not making this up”, called the ‘Diet Doner’ restaurant. I’m not sure how low-cal it was, but it sure tasted good! The American fast-food chain, Subway, has nothing on this place. The price for the equivalent of a 12” sub? About USD $3.

Of course, there are street vendors who offer a wide variety of foods. For example, I bought four tasty rolls for around USD $.60, which with a couple of bucks worth of cheese, made two-three meals for this old trouper. AND, as Turkey is very much a breadbasket for the region, there’s plenty of locally grown fruit and vegetables available at very reasonable prices, even in late autumn.

Getting around
There are a lot of options to move around Ankara, including a wide variety of busses, car rental and taxis. I used the latter for my meetings and thought it was interesting how little knowledge of local streets and landmarks the drivers had.

On my trip to see the Trade Commissioner the driver had to stop three times to ask for directions and still managed to drop me off in the wrong place! Fortunately, I was only a few hundred metres from my destination, and with a little help from a receptionist at a nearby hotel, I arrived at my destination on time. The return trip was just as bad, but at least I knew where my hotel was…

The legend of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk
With a free day and faced with cold, wet weather, I hopped in a taxi and travelled across town to the Ataturk Mausoleum. This is not only the resting place of the ‘father of modern Turkey’. For trivia buffs, ‘Ataturk’ means ‘father of the nation’, and was a surname created during the founding of the country – historically, Middle Eastern people do not have surnames, as we know of them in the West, and the legal insistence of having them in Turkey has only existed for about eighty or so years.

For someone who’s spent nearly half his life in NZ, seeing the Gallipoli campaign from the Great War from the Turkish side was quite fascinating, as well as their take on how the Allied Nations (as well call ’em) ignored treaties they’d signed with the Turks in order to carve up the formal Ottoman Empire to their advantage.

This action by countries like France and the UK not only brought about a revolution that created the Republic of Turkey, but also contributed to the peace and political stability that the people of Iraq, Lebanon, Palestine and Israel enjoy today.

I also found it interesting that the women of Turkey were active right through the Great War and revolutionary periods, and were given equal rights upon the founding of the Republic. Many Turkish women played key roles in the fighting as well as manufacturing materiel and providing logistical support.

Ataturk is still revered by his people, even after nearly seventy years since his death. A visit to the mausoleum is worth a visit, even for a peacenik like me.

Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na Batman!
In another Dave Barry moment, i.e. “I’m not making this up”, Turkey really does have a town called, Batman. I was watching the local news last night and there was a report on this destination in the oil producing part of the country. I have no idea what the report was about, but it did come from Batman. Google it and see some nice pics of the place.
For those whose mind tends to live in the gutter, Ankara does have a suburb called Dikmen… I’ll leave that one to your imagination.

With one more day to go before I start the long trek, retracing my steps back to NZ, and another cold, wet day, a book looks very inviting.