The mind is so clever. As an outsider, it can fool you into believing you understand another’s feelings. Sympathy and empathy can reach only so far. Witness and shared experience the chief unifiers.
Each day’s travel is overwhelmed by the level of ongoing new build. Virtually all high rise. Every region we’ve passed through. No town or city exempt from the ceaseless towers. Vertical townships signifying a new beginning. A new hope of a better life.
Today’s run-in to Antakya more than typical. The reason? Hatay province took the brunt of last year’s devastating earthquake. Half of Antakya’s buildings flattened.
With half a million new homes required to house the 700,000+ homeless, the Turkish Government has a mammoth task on its hands. Its promise – to ‘give’ for free!
Earlier and as is becoming the norm on this trip, we find ourselves having lunch on a petrol station forecourt. Today no different. Only it is.
Mr S steps down for a leg stretch. A group of garage workers enjoy friendly banter over their shared lunch. Without hesitation and as one, they call me over. “Please sit, join us” – some sentences in no need of Google Translate. A large metal dish overflows with juicy water melon slices – bread and a hot paste dip as suitable ‘sides’. Mr S doesn’t need to be asked twice.
Our penultimate stop of the day finds us parked up below St Peter’s Cave Church. Just 101k from Aleppo – it offers a grandstand view over Antakya – not a pretty sight. Perched high up and cut into the rock face of Mount Starius, its more modern facade fronts what is now, no more than a wet and mouldy interior. Fragments of Roman mosaic offer little to satisfy. Yet this is the place where St Peter preached and helped build up the early Christian community, in what was then Antioch.
In the shady corner of the carpark, a young man, gestures to us. He indicates that many of the ancient rock relics had collapsed in the quake. On further discussion, we discover he lost his home and family. He, being the only survivor. He’s holding a band of prayer beads. Condolences offered – along with a can of Fanta and Turkish Delight. This sharing thing is catching.
Back at the MOHO, Beastie is approached by a visiting Arab couple. The woman is eating an apricot. With her other hand she offers six freely. Their way of saying “Stranger – You are welcome”
Just before leaving, we get boxed in by a mini-bus. The windscreen displays a CONCERN Worldwide sticker. It seems the CEO of this Belfast based aid charity has interrupted his schedule to visit the church. We learn from the local area rep more of the quake’s effects and how AFAD, the Turkish Disaster aid agency, is dealing with the situation.
With the afternoon running away before our eyes, we head for tonight’s camp. It’s high up on the other side of the city. It’s rush hour. A misnomer, if ever there was. An hour later we wished we’d stayed put. It’s clear the once camp site is no more. What remains just a rundown bit of scrubland.
We have no option but to soldier on. Hope to find a suitable and safe overnight space. Forty minutes later our luck holds. We pull into a Lukoil petrol station. Like ours, Beastie’s belly is rumbling. As at every other station, it’s manned. Self-serve has yet to arrive in Türkiye. Without exception, the homeland of this strange Beastie is requested. Further exchanges result in an offer to let us stay here for free.
Have just had another catch-up session. As you said, Turkey is a very large country – from the east to istanbul is about the same as istanbul to London! So glad you went to Goreme – I thoroughly enjoyed it in 1973 and 1986 with Pauline.
Interested to see how far east you went – I had never heard of thet Mount…place. Looked a great place to visit.
Safe journey,
Love
Roger
It seems to be getting bigger by the day Rog 🙂