View across the Agora, looking up to the city's ancient citadel atop Panos Hill, now Kadifekale.
The Hellespont
Türkiye
September 28, 2023
Where Carla crosses the Hellespont from Asia to Europe, explores an Ottoman fortress then rides a local bus up the coast to Gelibolu.
“Timucin, what would be a good way to spend two or three days before returning to Istanbul?” I asked him on the second morning’s second coffee.
“How about crossing the Gelibolu Strait and working your way up to Istanbul? Its an easy voyage and there’s plenty to see on the way.”
“Sounds good. How do I do that?”
“Take the ferry to Kilitbatir. That’s the shortest crossing. From there take a minibus to Eceabat, and from there a regular bus to Gelibolu. From Gelibolu there are plenty of regional buses.”
“It’s a plan! Will keep you posted!”
Quick pack and a short walk to the pier where the ferries leave for Europe, ticket in hand I boarded the ferry for Kilitbatir. Some moments later, under a turbulent sky, we broke free of land, to launch ourselves in the same waters that doomed Leander. Blustery but perfectly secure the voyage took no more than fifteen minutes, as decreed.
Already upon Kilitbatir we disembarked, vehicles first, foot passengers following.Timucin had told me of a path to a viewpoint on the hill behind the town; having looked at the weather and timeframe, I decided to do that another day.
“Does the minibus to Eceabat leave from here at 14:45?” I asked the driver of a minibus with “Eceabat” labelled to his windscreen.
“Yes. I go and come back.” he replied.
Kilitbatir
With about an hour to spare, I wandered into town to visit the fortress, twin to the Sultaniye Kalesi in Çanakkale and reason for Kilitbatir’s existence. It is impressive from outside and in. Solid sand colored walls and even more solid towers, all built to take cannonshot. One of the towers being open to ascend, I took the spiral stairs up to its roof, a great viewing and gun platform looking right at its twin on the other side of the Strait.
Turning to face the Aegean I saw something quite different: great concrete bunkers set deep into the ground, only the reinforced roofs jutting out above the grounds. These clearly date from the time of the British Gallipoli campaign in 1915. While ANZAC troops sailed up the west side of the Gallipoli peninsula to be slaughtered on the beaches there, the Royal Navy (and French Navy) steamed into the Hellespont, to force the Strait and neutralize the Ottoman forces on either side. They walked into a trap: Ottoman forces were prepared and ready for them. Within minutes two warships were sunk and two others damaged beyond repair. Those bunkers are part of that history.
Waiting for the bus
Time up, I went back to the bus stop, ready for the local bus to Eceabat – old Sestos. No bus. I was early a few minutes, I could wait. Another ferry docked at the pier; vehicles and passengers trundled off. No bus.
Definitely getting concerned here. Over the low hill where the road slipped its way to Eceabat, a real bus appeared, pulling into the bus stop area moments later. I saw a plaque in the front window saying Kilitbatir and Gelibolu. One passenger descended the bus, followed by the driver and assistant.
What follows is sign language:
Me: Is this bus going to Gelibolu?
Driver: Yes.
Me: When?
Assistant: 15 minutes
Me: Thanks! How much?
Assistant: 70 Lira. You have?
Me: Yes. I pay now?
Driver: When on bus.
Me: Who do I pay?
Assistant: Driver.
Driver: I go to café.
They cross the road to the café sitting on a small slope. I follow.
“May I have a coffee please?” I asked the server behind long table.
“Yes. Nescafé.”
I resigned myself to the new look Turkish coffee, took the paper cup, sat at a small table, and sipped down what is almost the only coffee available in Türkiye.
Sure enough, within a few minutes the driver returned to his bus. I walked to the bus door, presented the fare and clambered aboard, grabbing the front seat on the right side, for a perfect view forward.
Within no time we arrived in Eceabat, then gone from it. I will have to go back next time I’m here to see what there is and what there was. Up the winding coast we went, like the corniche around Marseille as it would have been a hundred years ago (fewer buildings). Past the fortresses at Bigali and Tabyalar, past the cement works, the resorts, the naval yards. The bus hugged the coast all the way to where the great, massive, new 1915 Bridge crosses the Gelibolu Strait, the roadway so high above our heads. What a piece of engineering! A few more curves around the coast; we were in heart of bustling Gelibolu.
One gentleman taking in the late afternoon sun as he sits on the sea breakers fronting Izmir's long promenade.