Friday, August 9, 2019

From Istanbul to Samothrace (via Alexandroupolis)


       Summer school has ended and a major Muslim holiday, the Feast of the Sacrifice (Kurban Bayramı), four days long, is about to begin.  The campus is quickly emptying.  Students have gone; staff is going.  Professors and their families, resident on campus, are away, too.  Of course it’s mid-August, the height of the holiday season.  The urge To Go Somewhere is strong!  But why leave Ankara, where the weather has been sunny, clear, and dry, with day time temperatures in the mid-80s F (30 C), night time temperatures as low as 60 F (15 C)?  The beaches –Mediterranean and Aegean coasts – are crowded, the heat and humidity high.  Air conditioning is a must. 
        I can defend a “staycation” in Ankara because we have already had our Aegean holiday.  In early July, we spent a week in northeast Greece, followed by four days near Assos / Behramkale, in northeast Turkey.  The archaeological sites, museums, modern towns, and scenery were wonderful.  And we were able to go swimming several times!
        We took a high speed train to Istanbul: 4+ hours to the Asian shore, then transferred to a local train to go under the Bosporus. From Sirkeci Train Station, we caught the tramway up the hill to the Sultanahmet stop. 

      Istanbul crowds are always huge but despite our suitcases we managed. 
     After finding our hotel, downhill from the Sultan Ahmet Mosque (Blue Mosque), we walked through the narrow streets to the seashore, passing old houses, some reconverted into small hotels, restaurants, some chic some not, simple markets, children playing ball, people sitting and chatting.  On the other side of the busy coast road, on the boulder-lined shore men were fishing or swimming or sunning themselves.  

        For dinner we went to an Indian restaurant, Dubb, adored by two Bilkent friends, one vegetarian, one not. We were seated on a lower floor and so didn’t profit from the great view that our friends love, but that was OK, the food was excellent.
        The next day we left for Greece by bus, departing from the giant Esenler bus station that lies beyond the medieval city walls.  The bus, which goes from Istanbul to Thessaloniki, is run jointly by Kamil Koç, a large Turkish bus company, and Crazy Holidays, a Greek firm.  It left at 10:00 am and, after a brief rest stop and one hour spent crossing first the Turkish, then the Greek border posts, dropped us off in Alexandroupolis (Dedeağaç, in Turkish), on the other side of the border, at 3:30 pm.  The bus was very comfortable and the ride was a pleasure.  I particularly enjoyed the views of the Marmara Sea and the brilliant green rice paddies along the Turkish side of the Meriç (Evros) River, which forms the boundary between the two countries.  
Most of our fellow passengers were Turks of Greek nationality, living in the cities of Komotini or Xanthi (Gömülcine and İskeçe, in Turkish).  In 1923, the Muslims of that region, Western Thrace, were not subjected to the exchange of populations between Turkey and Greece (Orthodox people moved from Turkey to Greece, Muslims from Greece to Turkey), a counterbalance to the Orthodox allowed to remain in Istanbul and on the islands of Gökçeada (Imbros, in Greek) and Bozcaada (Tenedos). Most of the Greeks of Istanbul have since left, but the Turks of Western Thrace still remain in goodly numbers.  In Greece they are officially identified as members of the country’s Muslim minority, not as Turks (even if most are Turkish-speaking).
        In Alexandroupolis we stayed at a very nice, new boutique hotel, installed in an older building that once served as the French Consulate. We met our two friends coming from Athens, and strolled to the waterfront, where there is a long, broad avenue lined with cafés, in the late afternoon all full with people of all ages.  I had my first frappé of the trip = iced nescafé, which has become the Greek national summer beverage.  I like it with milk, but without sugar. 
        Offshore looms an imposing mountain.  This is the island of Samothrace, where we were heading the next day.  

Marie-Henriette and I got up really early to be at the ticket office at 7:00 am when it opened, because our friends had experienced a long line the previous afternoon.  We didn’t have to wait long, though, and so were able to return downtown for a leisurely breakfast at a café that featured Illy coffee.  A local specialty is bougatsa, a breakfast treat of flaky pastry filled with cheese (salty white) or cream (with semolina and sugar), dusted with powdered sugar and cinnamon.  We had one of each, plus cappuccinos.  They were delicious.  

Bougatsa is surely the same word as Turkish poğaça (pronounced “po-ah-cha”) -- not to mention Italian focaccia -- but the two are entirely different.  A poğaça is an oval-shaped savory breakfast roll, typically filled with a small amount of white cheese.  A glass of tea (the Turkish national drink) + a poğaça make a tasty breakfast if you are in a Turkish café and in something of a hurry.
        The ferry left at 9:00 am.  At 11:30 am, we arrived at Kamariotissa, the small port of Samothrace.  

Because the mountain is essentially the island, the population of the island is small.  Because there are almost no sand beaches, tourism has not overwhelmed the place.  Nonetheless, we were part of a goodly number of tourists, especially Bulgarians and Romanians, for whom Western Thrace is easy to reach. 
        I had arranged beforehand for a car rental; our friend Bob had telephoned to confirm.  I hadn’t had to give credit card details, though.  We found the place, with a line of motorbikes out in front.  

“How much did you agree to pay?” I was asked.  I remembered, and quoted the price. I got out my credit card.
     "Cash only!"
     Fortunately I had enough. 
     “Your license?”  I showed my Turkish license.  He filled out the rental form, with only my first two names (misspelled) and “Turkey” for the driver’s license, the model & license plate of the car, and the price.  Gas?  Bring it back at the same level (3/8 full).  Insurance?  In the hands of the gods.  That was it, and we were off. 
For lunch, we drove up from Kamariotissa to Chora, the main town of the island.  Located inland and up, the town can barely be seen from the sea – good protection against marauders over the centuries.  

Houses are of stone, the streets narrow, and the main square, pretty small, had a fine restaurant.  I saw for the first time in my life a car with a license plate from San Marino

        Our hotel was not far off, an low-key attractive place by the seashore.  The beach was rocky, but we had our special shoes for rocky beaches and so went swimming without agony.  

The water was delightful, clear and cool here in the north Aegean, and the hotel had a nice set-up with chaises longues and umbrellas and a bar.  I had another frappé. 
        The next day we visited the Sanctuary of the Great Gods – the main reason why an archaeologist would visit Samothrace.  

Here, in this religious center favored by the Macedonian royal family of the 4th century BC, Philip II, his son Alexander the Great, and their generals who set up kingdoms after Alexander’s death, New York University has been conducting excavations since just before World War II.  

Even before NYU, in 1863 Charles Champoiseau, the French consul in Adrianople (today’s Edirne), discovered here the Winged Victory (= Nike), one of the most famous of Hellenistic Greek statues. 

The island then belonged to the Ottoman Empire, but somehow the statue made its way to Paris, where it is dramatically displayed in the Louvre. 
        The sanctuary is beautifully set alongside ravines on the lower slope of the mountain.  

Trees are everywhere.  The ruined buildings stand on many different levels, so this is one of those 3-D sites that you really have to visit in order to appreciate the layout.  

It’s clear that in ancient times, taking part in the mystery cults featured here would have been an overwhelming experience.  
Excavations (surveying) in progress
An on-site museum is being restored, its roof having suffered severe rain damage some years before.
Having driven on the west side of the island the day before, until the road came to an end, we decided to do the same on the east side. We stopped for lunch in a small town developed around thermal springs.  I had black-eyed peas, the others chickpeas or salads; we passed up the goat offerings, even though we knew they were island specialties.
Again, the Sanctuary of the Great Gods 
The road eventually ended in some massive cliffs.  So back we turned, to Kamariotissa and the funny car rental place and the evening ferry to Alexandroupolis. 


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