I haven't started a blog entry with a song lyric for a while, but the only song I can think of off the top of my head that mentions Turkey is John Lennon's 'Cold Turkey'. There were no drug addicts amongst our travelling party (though one of our taxi drivers was open about his love of hashish and stronger) - - and it certainly wasn't cold, the temperatures hanging in the mid 30's most days.

Google informs me there is a song called 'Cliffs of Gallipoli' by a Swedish heavy metal band called Sabaton. Despite the inherent pun on my last name, a heavy metal intro just doesn't feel appropriate now that I've been to the "cliffs of burden / where the soldiers rushed into a certain death." The afternoon spent visiting the memorials scattered over the Gallipoli peninsula was very different to anything else we've experienced in the last year. I didn't fully realise how different at the time, or how much it affected me, but as I sit down to write this, I'm starting to.

But let's not mess up the chronology.

On Thursday, Marisa, Laura and I flew to İstanbul (the little dot above the 'I' is important, as I and İ are different letters in Turkish) via London-Luton. We flew into Sabiha Gökçen Airport, which is about 50kms from the centre of the old town.We met up with Peter (who took the bus - 6hrs - from Ankara) and Sina (flew from Hamburg to Atatürk Airport) in Taksim Square, 'The Heart of Modern İstanbul'. We weren't in modern İstanbul for long though, as our hostel was situated in Sultanahmet, 'The Old Town'.

By the time we reached Cordial House Hostel, we had learnt the following about Turkey:

*For every two lanes, you can fit three cars abreast.

*If you want to change lanes, indicate by turning your steering wheel.

*It is perfectly acceptable to sell water, baked goods or just plain beg on the motorway (though this is made safer where lanes merge due to the first two points)

*Don't expect your taxi driver to know where they're going.

*İstanbul is a huge, sprawling place with a lot of money and a lot of poverty rubbing shoulders.

*There are usually at least six minarets visible from any vantage point.

That first evening we walked around Sultanahmet, through what used to be The Hippodrome when İstanbul was Constantinople, the capital of Eastern Rome, and is now dotted with relocated ancient columns and obelisks. We were easily coaxed into a restaurant beside the Hagia Sophia and, though the food was probably the least impressive of the whole trip, there was a lone whirling dervish at 8pm to keep our camera's busy.

The next day we caught a shuttle out to Atatürk Airport to pick up our rental car - the logic being that it is better to start out of town than in the thick of it.Still, we drove around for about 45mins before getting onto a road we were certain would take us to Gallipoli / Gelibolu / The Dardanelles or whatever you want to call it. Including the occasional toilet stop and photo session, it took about five hours to get to the town of Gelibolu (Gallipoli).The place was surprisingly untouristy. It is another 40-50mins to the battlefields/memorials, but I would have thought the name alone (and its location) would mean there was a buck or two to be had from Aus/NZ tourists. That said, the owner of the restaurant where we had lunch did have a NZ brother-in-law who is trying to introduce meat pies to Turkey.

We continued south from Gelibolu for half an hour, then cut West across the peninsula just before Eceabat and came to Anzac Cove. The monument there is simple: towards the sea is a waist-high wall bearing "ANZAC" and towards the cliffs a higher wall with information panels in English and Turkish. To look up at the eroded cliffs, the high ground, it's hard to imagine being told that you had to go up there, harder still that so many tried. To look back at the coast, the still sea and the bright blue sky, I couldn't help thinking of the ANZAC soldiers, most younger than me, shortly before landing, having spent months in boats crossing the globe only to be spilled onto the coast of what could be paradise…

We then drove up the hill, stopping at the Australian memorial at Lone Pine, and a few Turkish ones, before making it to Çanak Bayırı (Chunuk Bair). On the summit you are surrounded by huge stone tablets with descriptions of battles in Turkish (with small English translations at your feet), between which you can see the entire peninsula stretching out, as those few Allied solidiers who managed to make it there back in 1915 would have.

The thing about Gallipoli (or Çanakkale Savaşları to the Turkish) is that it's just as important to the Turkish national identity as it is to the ANZACs. They are happy to let antipodeans rule the roost around April 25, but the Turks supply a steady stream of pilgrims year round. There were about five tour buses full of Turks on Chunuk Bair, without the place seeming crowded or overblown.Everything was respectful without being sombre.

We then made our way back to Eceabat and to Crowded House hostel (they were playing a NZ mixtape as we checked in: 'Don't Dream It's Over', 'Loyal' and 'Slice of Heaven'). Everything was brand new - so new in fact their alcohol licence had only just come through so the bar was not connected. The guys on the desk were really helpful and told us the best place to go swimming, as well as recommending a good place to go for vegetarian food (as well as Peter and Sina, Laura has gone to the green-side). Both recommendations were spot on: the beach was lovely and the food (veg and non-veg) was excellent (and cheap!).

Free advertisement: If you're thinking of going to Gallipoli, Eceabat is a great place to stay, and Crowded House would have to be the pick of the hostels.

The next morning we walked around town, buying food for a picnic and stumbling into a brand new interactive Gallipoli display (it was so new that I don't think it was officially opened yet, but there was nothing stopping us entering), with 3D scale model of the peninsula, recreation of the bunkers with insanely loud sound effects, and cases full of shells and weaponry from the actual conflict.

We then went back to our beach, swam, ate our picnic, then and suddenly it was 4pm and time to trek back to İstanbul.We made it back to the big smoke in time to catch the Turkey vs Czech Republic game while we ate dinner. Everyone at the restaurant was in good spirits. The waiter quickly figured out which of our party of five was single and starting laying it on thick with Laura.The owner of the restaurant, who was seated at the table next to us, came over and invited us to a sunflower seed eating competitions. The five of us versus him.The first to de-kernel and consume all the seeds in their pile wins. Did I mention his pile was three times bigger than ours? We managed to beat him with three seeds to spare. The mood became less jovial with the first Czech Republic goal. Then the second.The vego's ordered a special stew cooked in an earthenware pot which was then cracked in front of us - quite the spectacle. This was then surpassed by Turkey's comeback: three goals in the last fifteen minutes.The entire street went mad for about five minutes when Nihat scored the go-ahead goal.

[As I've been typing this, the Turkey vs Croatia quarter-final has been on the TV.This comeback is just as extraordinary!]

The next day was our first full day in İstanbul. We started out at the Grand Bazaar.Peter and I were pleasantly surprised at the efficiency displayed by our female companions.4,500 stops in an hour and a half. A few pashminas (the first of many purchased by Laura over the next three days), some apple tea, and a pair of earrings was the sum of our purchases. The reality was that, although large and Byzantine (both literally and figuratively), the stock didn't vary much between vendors and the prices weren't that cheap. Some even refused to haggle!If you want to buy cheap anything in İstanbul, you're better off buying it from one of the vendor's on the main streets, or in a lesser Bazaar such as the one behind the Hagia Sophia.

As for the language thing, it's like a lot of places. If you know a few words and show a willingness to use them up front, people are a lot more receptive, but the fact is, most know enough English (and Japanese and Spanish and Italian…) to get by. I say "most" because there was some transaction was carried out by pointing and holding up fingers, but they're the most fun.

In the afternoon we took a ferry up the Bosphoros (the strait which connects the Mamara with the Black Sea). It took 90 minutes, and gave us yet another illustration of how blimmin' big İstanbul is (with 11 million residents, it's the 3rd most populous city on Earth, don't y'know?). We had two hours at a small town near the beginning of the Black Sea with lots of seafood restaurants and the ruins of a fortress half an hours walk up the hill.The views from up there were phenomenal.The weirdest thing was the number of (possibly stray) dogs up there. Most of them were dozing in the shade of the ruins.

The go-go-go nature of the last few days was beginning to take its toll and all of us slept for some portion of the return ride back to the city. Then it was off to Beyoğlu, the hip, young face of modern İstanbul to meet up with a childhood chum of Peter's (in İstanbul to teach German) and watch their countrymen scrape past the Austrians.

Peter and Sina had to leave the next day, so we packed as much as we could into the morning before they had to leave (Sina to the airport, Peter to the bus station). First up was the Basilica Cistern (Yerebatan Sarnıcı) which is a giant underground chamber capable of holding 80,000 cubic metres of water. These days the water is just a foot deep (and stocked with a surprising number of fish), and paths allow visitors to observe the 6th Century architectural marvel and the cheeky way pieces of other buildings/ruins were borrowed: see sideways and upside-down medusa heads used as pedestals for columns.

Then it was on to the Sultan Ahmed Mosque, more commonly known as the Blue Mosque.Unlike the Hagia Sophia (more on this in a sec), the Blue Mosque is still a functioning mosque, so it was shoes off and limbs covered.The girls wrapped their heads with their new pashminas, though this was not enforced for all females. The inside is simply huge. No need for air conditioning there! There's something about a large, open space that is eminently more spiritual than a gloomy, candle-flickered, cross-shaped cathedral, for me at least.

After Peter and Sina departed, we went into the Hagia Sophia which was a Christian Church for 1000 years, then a mosque for 500 until mighty Atatürk made it a museum in the 1930s, allowing the Christian mosaics to be uncovered for people of all faiths (and the faithless) to see. The downside of this being a secular operation was the admission charge for the Hagia Sophia, whereas the Blue Mosque was free. Still, 10 YTL (about 10 NZD) isn't that bad, and these things aren't cheap to maintain. I was amazed by the state of the mosaics, considering they were covered for so long - though a lot is probably due to the painstaking work of restorers.

We then headed over to Tokapi Palace, which was where the Sultans hung out for centuries, but we found out / were reminded that it was closed on Tuesdays.

After an early night, our final morning was spent shopping for a few last pashminas and some Turkish Delight.

And that was Turkey.I'm sure I've left things out. It was a packed six days.I could have written this much again on the food alone.

It's definitely a place I'd recommend, and a country with plenty more to offer besides İstanbul and Gallipoli. We bought a souvenir pack of cards for the plane ride home and every place on there (Panakkale, Efes, İzmir, Anatola…) looks amazing.

Oh, and at the airport we saw the biggest moustache, ever. Check out the photo album.

Teşekkür ederim Türkiye!

PS

I just remembered the perfect song I should have started with all along...

Istanbul was Constantinople
Now it's Istanbul, not Constantinople
Been a long time gone, Constantinople
Now it's Turkish delight on a moonlit night

- 'Istanbul (not Constantinople)' by They Might Be Giants