Today was a day that proved that sometimes the best finds are those not in the guide books. Bayburt was not the pretty town depicted in the book and the fortress was a sad rubbish dump. Parts had been poorly resorted and it was covered in years of modern graffiti. We leave disappointed, there are no signs as to where the underground city maybe and with the shabby fort in our minds, we abandon thoughts of looking for it. We'll head back to the coast.
Once out of the town, we cross the plains and enjoy a different landscape. For a while the mountains are in the distance and the plains stretch out before us. Brown tourist signs start to appear, all directing to the same place, more and more frequently we see them. I check the guide book for clues, then the useless phrase book. Nothing? Nowhere else we have been has been so well signposted, we know we will have to follow them.
What we find couldn't have been more unexpected. We had surmised about First World War museums, local handicraft museums and so on and so forth. Totally wrong! Here in the middle of nowhere is a very modern architecturally designed building which houses a very modern art gallery! Despite being Monday it is open. (Museums are usually closed on Mondays) We seem to have hit the jackpot, the Professor who founded the gallery is himself giving a guided tour to a group of Polish who are staying in the galleries guest suites. It is an amazing place, with exhibits of all sorts: ancient relics; modern prize winning pieces and a children's section. Scholarships are available for promising young artists. What a totally unexpected find!
As we journey on, the signs that autumn is taking a stronger hold are everywhere. The surrounding countryside has taken on all shades of yellow. Brilliant sunshine yellow of the poplar trees and pale lemon yellow of the grassy tufts. Our lunch stop finds us whiling away much more time than we were aware. Discovering that we had parked near a large ants nest, we watched these fascinating creatures organise themselves into overcoming the logistical problem we had set them, by dropping a large piece of crusty bread, too big to fit down their hole, into their midst. They did it, of course.
Back into more mountainous terrain, small red shrubs scatter the cliff sides, like hundreds of little bonfires. Then we spot what is possibly our most ideal wild campsite to date. With hills and trees around us and a river running by we park up early and enjoy peace and solitude, not even a mosque can be heard from here.
Supper is caught in the river and in the morning we cook toast over our little bonfire. Idyllic!
No comments:
Post a Comment