Decisions…

— Posted inUncategorized — 8 min read

Friday morning I looked at the weather forecast before layering up. It was to be partly sunny with a high of 4° and (for a change) just a light wind. The first 12 kms from Kumburgaz went quickly, so I decided to stop for lunch at a restaurant rather than dine on my supplies. By the time I was done, the weather had changed. It was less than a light rain but more than blowing mist. Blowing? Yes, the wind had picked up again.

It was then and there that I should have put on my rain poncho, but my weather resistant windbreaker ‎was enough to keep me dry at that point so I didn’t bother. (sigh) It was also at that point, just a few hundred metres past the bridge in Büyükçekmece, that I left the D-100 and took a detour through town. The nice wide shoulder I’d been walking on for the last 200 kms vanished as the road headed through the first of İstanbul’s western suburbs. Looking at my GPS app, it seemed as if the road through town rejoined the highway in a less built up area, and I hoped that the shoulder would reappear at that point.

I set out uphill along the sidewalk, and quickly realised this was not going to be fun. The road was more or less clear of snow, but unless individual shopkeepers had cleared the sidewalk in front of their stores, I was left slogging through a wet‎, sloppy, treacherous mess of slush, running water, and ice. Even Goretex won’t help in that situation, and my socks were soon squishing with every step I took. (Thanks to the wonders of wool, my feet weren’t cold for long after each new dousing.)

It took a long time to cover the next few kilometres, and when I encountered a traffic jam at 2:30 in the afternoon, I decided to call it a day. Gas station for directions, supermarket across the street for supplies, and then another kilometre of wading through ice water to the nearest hotel in Beylikdüzü. I checked in, showered, did some laundry ‎in the bathtub, and wound up watching TV for several hours after dinner. Ahhh, luxury!

Saturday I had an early breakfast and stepped out into the bright morning sunshine with the hope of reaching ‎central There was a pedestrian overpass nearby, so I headed up to see if the situation improved further along.‎ It didn’t, but I discovered that the overpass led to the final stop of the After a few kilometres, I noticed that sidewalks had appeared alongside the road. I don’t know how other people have managed the walk into the city, but I was just as happy to be inside a vehicle for that stretch. About 45 ‎minutes into the ride, I spotted the towers of the western wall, completed in 413 during the reign of Theodosios II. I decided this was a good place to resume walking, so I hopped off the bus at the next stop.

‎
I took my time, enjoying the warm sunshine and marvelling at how quickly the massive snowfall of the preceding week had melted away. My first stop was the Patriarchal Cathedral of St George, in the Fener district. This is one of several buildings in a compound which hosts the official residence of the Ecumenical Patriarch. After entering the church and paying my respects, I wound up speaking with a priest. Judging by his accent, Fr. Niphon was raised in North America. He was happy to tell me what time services are held on the weekend, and asked a few questions about my pilgrimage. Unfortunately, there is a massive construction project underway at the moment — most of the clergy have had to relocate for the duration, and it simply wasn’t possible to put me up for a few nights.


Because I’d taken the bus, it was still early afternoon and I had plenty of time to locate a cheap and conveniently located hostel. For 22 lira per night, I’ve got a spot in a three bed dorm room, which is even cheaper than what I’d paid on my visit back in 2006. No breakfast, though, but that’s fine. There’s a small grocery store just a few storefronts down where I’ll be able to buy the essentials. ‎About the same distance in the opposite direction there’s a souvenir shop which has several washers and dryers in the back room. For ten lira per kilogram, my clothes are now clean and dry. 🙂

Sunday morning I attended Liturgy at the cathedral, and then headed to the Sultanahmet district to meet an old friend from my days at the Balamand. He and his family are living in İstanbul now, although they’re from Antakya originally. Yes, he is Antiochian! (Interesting historical note: the Patriarch of Antioch has not resided in Antioch since the 14th century, when Patriarch Ignatius II transferred the See to Damascus.) After drinking tea and catching up a bit, I had time to grab a cheese pizza and some ayran before heading back to St George for Forgiveness Sunday Vespers. I’d downloaded the full text of the service, so I could follow along as it was chanted in Greek. Normally I don’t bother, since the structure of Matins, Liturgy, and Vespers doesn’t change no matter which liturgical language is used, but the hymnography for this service is worth burying my head in my smartphone.
After the service, I got talking with an American who’s attached to the embassy in Antakya and who had come to the city specifically to begin Great Lent here. We wound up talking for two and a half hours, and would probably still be talking if not for the fact that he’s heading back to Antakya at 6:00 tomorrow morning and still has a lot of reading to do this evening. As I’ve said before, the best part of my pilgrimage has been connecting with people. Sometimes these are residents, while other times they’re fellow travellers.
I’m planning to stay in İstanbul for a week. My original plan would have seen me setting out for Antalya after only two or three days‎, but I have since revised that. Brandon Wilson recorded his walk to Jerusalem from France in “Along the Templar Trail,” which I had read over a year ago while still in the research and planning stage. In the appendix, he included a list of dates, towns, and distances, and the route he took across the mountainous Anatolian peninsula involved several 50+ kilometre days, usually followed by a rest day. Because he was walking in the warm months, he didn’t have to carry winter gear, meaning that his pack weighed about half of what I’m carrying. April would be an ideal time to tackle this portion, since it’s warm enough to camp out (and thereby avoid those 50 km stretches) while being cool enough during the day to remain comfortable. Since I’m aiming to be in Jerusalem for Pascha, which this year falls on April 12, that is clearly not going to work for me. It is still possible for me to do this section by foot, but I’ve been examining a few other options.
What I think I’ll do is take the bus to Antalya and then walk to Taşucu, where I can catch a ferry to either Girne, Cyprus or Tripoli, Lebanon. Yes, Lebanon!‎ By skipping the long and gruelling cross-country trek, I’ll have the time to go visit some old friends before flying from Beirut to Larnaca, Cyprus and from there to Haifa, where I start walking again. That means I won’t get to see much of Cyprus at all, but I think it’s a worthwhile tradeoff. I’ll have to find an Internet café in İstanbul, as browsing websites in Turkish (which I don’t understand) is rather tricky on my smartphone.

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Another travel decision I have to make before arriving in Israel is when I will return home, and from whence. When I looked at flights last summer, flying from Tel Aviv to Toronto would have cost several hundred dollars more than leaving from either Amman or Cairo. I’ve never been to Jordan, but on the other hand, I would love to revisit Cairo and perhaps return to St Catherine’s Monastery in Sinai on the way.

And now, to bed. I’m hoping to make it back to St George’s for the service tomorrow at 8:00 am.

İstanbul, here I come!

— Posted inUncategorized — 6 min read
When I left Çorlu Wednesday morning, my weather app said the temperature was -2, but the 50 km/h wind made it feel like -11. This amused me, since one of Çorlu’s “sister cities” is Alert, Nunavut.
I’ve decided that walking with a crosswind ‎is more demanding than walking into a headwind. While there is more direct resistance (and exposed flesh) with a headwind, all a walker (or cyclist, for that matter) has to do is press forward. With a strong crosswind (and yes, 50 km/h is STRONG), there is a constant struggle to walk a straight line.
The good news is, my windbreaker and nylon shell trousers worked very well, and my thin inner layers were enough to keep me warm. For most of the day Wednesday, the wind was coming at me from about 7:30. (If my left side is 9:00 and my rear is 6:00. I don’t know how else to explain it succinctly.) That meant that by tilting my head somewhat, the floppy brim of my Tilley hat was able to keep the wind off my face. (Because it was flattened against it, but never mind.)
Right around lunchtime, I noticed a small industrial compound at the side of the road. There were no cars, but one of the gates had been left open.‎ I approached warily, but the dog house beside the gate was as empty as the food dish beside it. I looked around for a place to shelter from the wind, and saw a guardhouse. Windows on all sides, the door was unlocked, and there were three chairs behind a table. On the table, there were a few Turkish newspapers spread out.  The most recent one was from February 2. It was an ideal shelter on a sunny but very windy day!
It was 4:05 pm when I topped a hill and finally saw the Sea of Marmara spreading out before me. The road had changed direction slightly a few hours earlier, bearing more east than south. That meant I was getting pushed by the wind at 90° to my direction of travel. When I spotted a hotel, I was very happy.
I decided that I would splurge this one night and stay at the massive 5 star hotel, resort, and conference centre. It was worth every penny and I didn’t even make use of the spa or sauna! Dinner was marvelous, and the breakfast buffet Thursday morning made me very happy. 🙂
The wind was still quite strong when I left my refuge but it was considerably warmer on Thursday‎, and after an hour or so, I reached the coast and started walking directly east. Looking at my GPS the evening before, I assumed that meant I’d be struggling with the wind again all day, but the area along the coast is built up enough that the buildings served as very effective windbreaks — most of the time.
I had picked a destination for the day somewhat arbitrarily, based simply on the distance and the likelihood of accommodations being located along the coast near a major crossroad. As I arrived in Selimpaşa, I stopped at a service station and asked about a hotel. I was told to keep straight on for about a kilometre, and I’d find an economical one beside the next gas station.
I found it easily enough, but the guys there said it was closed, and that it wasn’t nice anyway. Just keep going, they said. Another five kilometres, and there’s a good hotel. At this point, I put my headlamp on and adjusted the reflective strips I’d scavenged from a discarded safety vest in Bulgaria. After half an hour, I spotted a hotel on the other side of the road. I knew I hadn’t walked far enough for this to be the one that had been recommended, but I crossed over‎ and went on in. The room was pretty nice, and I’m sure the view of the ocean is lovely by day, but (strike one) the WiFi signal was very weak in the room, (strike two) breakfast was not included in the rather steep price, and (strike three) the gentleman at reception told me it was cash only when I could plainly see the credit card reader on the desk behind him. I thanked them, picked up my things, and walked on.
By this time I’d been on the road for ten hours, so the next time someone greeted me in English, I took the opportunity to ask about a hotel. (I’ve learned the phrase in Turkish.) Unfortunately, the greeting was the extent of my guide’s ‎English, but “petrol station” is easy enough to understand, and he communicated his directions very effectively. I found the hotel, but it was full. Again, I got directions in Turkish. This section of Turkey along the Aegean coast seems to be a resort area, because there were plenty of swanky properties which backed on to the coast. I settled on one, and was very pleasantly surprised when the desk clerk quoted me a price that was more than 20% less than the rates posted on the wall behind him. It’s warm, it’s clean, and breakfast is included in the price of the room. And he didn’t blink when I handed him my credit card.
(A note about my long days: I’ve found that once dusk settles in, my stride lengthens and any feelings of exhaustion I may have had simply vanish. I’d written about my “night moves” while I was still in Italy, and the pleasure I derive from walking at night hasn’t diminished at all. [As long as it’s not raining.])
I was watching for the 100 km and 50 km signposts for İstanbul  but I was in an urban are for each one and either I didn’t see them or they simply aren’t posted in cities. A few minutes before finding the hotel I’m currently booked into, I spotted a sign that said İstanbul 34.‎ That’s one good day’s walk, but the distances on these signs are to the city limits. İstanbul is an enormous city, and it will take me a second day to reach the area where I hope to spend a few days. It’s 5220 km square, and unlike some of the large “cities” in America, it has a population density of greater than one person per square kilometre. (Sitka, I’m looking at you!)
So, I may not write an update until I’m settled in İstanbul, hopefully by Saturday evening. I’d really like to get to church this Sunday, both for Liturgy and for the evening service which marks the beginning of Great Lent. God willing!