ANZAC Day - The Dawn Service

With our Turkish guide, Murat. Best tour guide you could ever find!
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Dear All, Sorry it's been so long between updates. Last time I believe I was in dodgy Bucharest, Romanina. The place was so uncomfortable that I didn't leave from a 500m area of the station. Incidently, I later found out that the 500m area within the station is the most dodgy part of Bucharest. I caught the train to Istanbul and met the same girl that I met in the net cafe in Bucharest who was from either Brisbane or Perth. 18 years old and loved to talk. But just idle comments. Nothing important. Or even relevant sometimes. Just chit chat. "Look at all the dogs" "What do you think that thing is?" "Why don't they tidy up these streets?" "Don't you think it'd be bad to live in the ghetto?" "They should do something to tidy all these buildings up" So our 19hr train ride was kindly interrupted by nightfall and we arrived in Istanbul at 08:30 on Sunday morning. I got my bearings and left the girl after her friends had arrived to pick her up and caught the tram to near the hotel we were book at. Now when I say tram, I mean one of the modern trams like the new ones in Melbourne. After much confusion from the conductor, I found the hotel my way. With common sense, a map and a sense of direction. Naturally, it was a little early to check in so I was invited to have breakfast in the foyer restaurant while I waited. It didn't take long before I saw hungover people emerge at the breakfast room in the famous yellow Fanatics tops. I made myself known and sat and ate with them. Now a Turkish breakfast is very similar to what I remember Mum making on Sundays for lunch when she was too hot and exhausted to go to too much trouble. Some quartered tomatoes, sliced german sausage, hard boiled egg, sponge cake (?), slices of french stick and coffee. And that was just the things I recognised! And it wasn't just the hotel, every breakfast in Turkey consisted of a similar diet. I met some people at breakfast who were doing the 8 day tour and had come a day early and attended a pre-tour party the night before. By chance I met them in the street about an hour after I had checked in and we wandered the streets together for the day. It was great just taking in the sights, eating Turkish Delight and relaxing. Although they stayed at the Art 'Otel the previous night, the 8 day tour and 15 day tours were staying in there own respected hotels once the tours started officially so we parted ways and I returned to the Art 'Otel where I met my hotle room-mate, Mick, 23, a Physio from Canberra, studied at UQ and working in Oxford. We sarted to make ourselves look pretty for the first night party when we noticed the water leaking from the bathroom light. Thankfully, we'd already showered but toilet visits were accompanied by headtorch. (Thanks Petzl) We mentioned it to the hotel reception on the way out but his level of interest was on the lower side of none. The party was great with all the Fanatics tours meeting at the same place. Meet a group of other people on an 8 day tour (seems the tour to go on!) 2 Aussies and 3 Kiwis with the Beige Brigade (NZ version of Fanatics - the tops are a giggle at the 80's NZ ODI cricket uniforms) One of the Kiwi's had an uncanny resemblance to both David and Simon Costelloe. Maybe a long lost bro, eh? The night ended at about 4am when I beat Mick back to the hotel room by 30secs. We set alarms but decided to ignore them in the morning and got a nice wake up call at 8:50 to say the 8:30 meet in the foyer wasn't a joke. Now I didn't pay myself any pity and accepted that I had a hangover and that's why I was sick, until the hangover went away but I still felt sick. According to my camera, I went in the Blue Mosque (called Sutanehmet to the locals - useless info for the day) and as St. Sophia (Red Mosque) is closed on Mondays walked past it and into the Palace (Istanbul has a palace?) I tried to be sick just to feel better but only time was going to be my saviour. By about 2pm, I started to feel better but still had trots. (Oh, did I tell you how much fun it is being sick and being in a country covered in squat toilets! Almost as much fun as going to the toilet while the train with squat toilets goes through a wobbley section. Good times!) So then comes the ANZAC-Turk Friendship Cup (that's a soccer match!) where there's beer (Oh God No!) and BBQ (call that a BBQ?).There were 2 matches with the first game being 11 people from the tour who were thin but couldn't play against 11 Turks who were overweight but could play (once upon a time). The second game involved people who had to try out in order to play. I found the Kiwis and Aussies from the night before and got sucked into doing rounds when they started coming back with an extra beer for me. Happier endings with that one expect for the cue for the toilet which was at a local guys house where he charged 1YTL to pee. As the cues got larger, we discovered just how many guys you can fit around a squat toilet. The first match ended in a draw (3yrs running) but we won the penalty shootout and the second match with people that could actually play was one by the Turks 3-2. Next we were on the bus towards Canakkale. We stayed at another dodgy hotel where our tour guide, who stayed in the same room as Mick and I, was sick that night, then Mick was sick in the morning. I just quickly packed up and got out of there before I got it back again! Before we could leave, reception found that someone had taken 2 bottles of water from mini bar and wanted 50YTL (Around 20 quid) after initial protest they said only 15YTL. Still a lot considering the shop next door sold bottles of water for 2YTL. No-one was owning up and the idiots wouldn't/couldn't say it had gone missing from. After about 20mins of negotiating from Murat, our Turkish tour guide (LEGEND) and Spec, our Fanatics guide, a guy on the back seat of the bus admitted as if he'd just woken up, that he'd taken water from mini bar. By that stage, everyone was involved in chipping in 1YTL just so we could go and he chipped in 5YTL. Fortunately I was at the back of the bus and they had their 15YTL well before they asked me for money. We dubbed them the Turkish Mafia as they had 10 staff ourside haggling over 15YTL. We left and waved goodbye and good ridence with four fingers tightly in our fists with promises that we'd never stay there again. And off to Gallipoli! We entered the site were the Turkish military were on guard with all sort of machine guns. We saw the trenches and walked around some of the 31 memorial sites at Gallipoli for the ANZACS. We visited The Nek which is where the final scene in the movie Gallipoli was set and heard stories about ANZAC soldiers jumping into the trenches shouting out "Make room fellows. My mate is about to go over and if he goes, then so do I" We went to Lone Pine which is the main Australian Cemetary/Memorial where there are actually 7000 bodies from both sides buried. The trenches there were so close that they couldn't fire guns and so it was hand to hand combat using fists and bayonets. Another funny story is that the Turks used to shout out 'Allah' before climbing out of the trenches to be near ther god before dying. Listening to the ANZAC's, the Turks believed for a long time that the ANZAC's god was called Bastard because when climbing out of the trenches, a lot would yell out "Come here ya bastard" Dawn Service was amazing, if not somewhat crowded. We had a good spot on the grass near the stage and 'entertainment' kicked off from about 8:30pm the night before. There were stories about the ANZACs and the Turks and songs from that era played by bands. The highlight of it all doesn't sound like much but there was a Kiwi who is apparently the world great mouth organ player, and I'd pay that, who played a song with a 3piece accompanient which was also set to a light show on the Sphinx and surrounding cliffs. That was just before dawn and was a favourite of a lot of other people on the bus.They showed Dawn Services from back home and Hobart got a least 3 minutes which chocked me up at seeing images of Hobart that were no longer that 7hrs old. We walked up to Lone Pine which is about 2.5Km away. We were told it would be a 90min walk away. (Yeah right! If you were giving an 90kg guy a piggyback, maybe) So then we had to sit in the stands for 3hrs while we waited for VIP's to arrive. The MC filled the gaps with stories and humour including the story of when he went to the Dawn Service at Normandy last year. While walking in the dark this bloke walked up to him and in the most Aussie accent said "'Cuse me mate, Know where the 'Merican burial ground is?" Surprised to see another Aussie, our MC said"Where abouts in Australia are you from?" "Sydney" "I'm from Sydney, Where abouts from?" said the MC "Macquarie Fields" "I'm from Macquarie Fields too! What street?" The Aussie guy says "Rosewood Drive" as if unperplexed by the conversation "I used to work on the corner of Rosewood Drive" says the MC really excited at the coincidence. "Yeah," says the Aussie bloke, "do you know where the American burial ground is?" Now if that wasn't funny enough, that same bloke was in the crowd at Lone Pine! They brought him down to the stage and he talked as cooly as he was described in the story. Again, the MC was in fits of excitement of the coincidence of telling the story and having the guy there present. It was funny. The service was quite good at Lone Pine and Brendon Nelson delievered a marvelous speech that did him a lot of credit. Wreaths were laid but the biggest surprise was when representatives from the states and territories were identified as 2 people and Doug Parkinson MLC (Hobart pollie for those who don't know) Also found a C.H. Turvey who served with the 19th Battalion at Lone Pine. Charles Henry K.I.A. 22/08/15 We caught the bus back to Istanbul without too much trouble. It was a bit of a mad house but considering there were 8000 people all trying to get out on a one way circluar road, it actually went pretty smoothly. BTW. Another useless fact for the day. Did you know that John Simpson Kirkpatrick aka Simpson & his donkey, was only 22 years old! Visited his grave site. We bused back to the Art 'Otel where Mick and I were in a room on the top floor with a bath that drained into the bathroom and some nutter put the drain hole for the floor at the highest point. Clever Cookie! We made ourselves look pretty once more before the farewell party. We enjoyed that but I retired early that night at 1pm. The guest of honour that night was Murat, our Turkish guide who we all chipped in to give him a tip. He really was the ducks nuts. Very passionate, knowledgable and enthusiastic and little more English than Borat. He was lifted onto people shoulders more than once as he partied with an Australian flag drapped around his neck. I think he enjoyed it! My train didn't leave until 10pm that night so I had all day to look around. Mick wasn't leaving until 8am the next day so he booked into a hostel and I left my bags on his bed. Southern Cross hostel is amazing! And not just because the toilet and shower are so close that you can shit and shower at the same time. It has a roof top bar that just encourages you to relax in the sun. And the guy who runs it speaks fluent Australian. We both thought he was either from Aus or travelled there for a while but apparently he's picked it al up from travellers. Even got the "No worries mate" down pat. Does not sound Turkish at all! So we went to the Spice Market and Grand Bazaar then to collect my washing from the cleaners which was pure luck. The lady said be back by 3pm to collect my washing and we thought 4:15 would be fine. We walked down the street and she was walking up the street to go home early. 2 mins later and I would have had to stay the night to get my clothes back! Well it did say open til 5:30!

...on the squat toilet while the train goes through a wobbley section. Good times!