Hiking Under Mount Ararat

First view of Mount Ararat - look but don't climb - too much snow and cold
see all photos »

My ears hurt! Surely it’s not possible? The same song for the entire three-hour bus journey. Wads of tissue paper in my ears, trying not to groan. Kurdish music. Awful music. Sad, melancholy, agonising, male voice pitched at high tenor level, lyrics generally about the loss of love. The bus trip north from Lake Van was uninteresting until we started climbing to 2644m. We crossed a dramatic black boulder strewn escarpment of volcanic tufa, spewed from towering snow-splotched mountains. Towers marched along the ridge of the Iranian border as we passed through two checkpoints, numerous villages and many herds of goats and cows.

Isak Pasa Palace above Dogubayazit
see all photos »

Ears forgotten with my first glimpse of Mount Ararat, or Agri Dayi as it is known in Turkey. Nothing prepared me for its size, its isolation. Not just an ordinary mountain, Ararat has been wreathed in legends for millennia, the fabled resting place of Noah’s Ark. In her shadow lies the charmless, economically depressed, dusty town of Döyubayazit (doh-oo-bay-yah-zuht), the last Turkish town on the highway to Iran. There are few travellers’ here, the only reason to come is to visit the sites.

The dogs are ferocious under Mount Ararat

Ishak Pasa Palace just outside Dogubayazit
see all photos »

Agri Dagi - covered with a permanent snowcap and shrouded in cloud since early morning. With its double peaks - Lesser Ararat 3,925m and Greater Ararat 5,165m – it is the largest single-mass or volume mountain in the world and not part of a mountain range.

Agri is a great prize for mountain collectors, not only because it is the highest summit in Turkey but also for its historical significance. Armenian monks considered the mountain to be holy and no one was allowed to climb it, until 1829 when German, Johan Parrot summitted. Even then it was difficult what with smugglers, outlaws, wild beasts and severe weather. Turkish officials allowed it to be climbed from the 1950’s then closed it due to Turkish-Kurdish conflict and reopened it in 2000. Today Nomadic Kurds inhabit the mountain, migrating between the valleys and high pastures with their herds.

As the sun set we indulged in a cold Efes above the palace while bats squealed and flapped. Later, we found a restaurant serving ashure (Noah’s Pudding), believed to have first been made by Noah’s wife, from the last bits of food in the ark.

Despite the efforts of American astronaut James Irwin and others, no reliable trace of Noah’s Ark has been found. Despite this controversy, north-eastern Anatolia is true Turkey, relatively unchanged through millennia. As we left I dreamt of one day climbing Agri, and on its summit seeing the Koran and the Turkish flag - the two most important things to Turkish people.