Konya-Ankara

The steward wakes me up and tells me that we're
arriving in Konya.  Before I know it, I'm off the bus
and standing with my backpacks on a wide sidewalk. 
It's cold and dark, and it's 4:30am.  I rub the sleep
off my eyes, spot the otogar in the distance, and make
my way over.  The bus must have been travelling at
some serious speed, because I wasn't supposed to
arrive here for another 2 hours.  

The city's dead for a while, so I make my home in the
otogar.  I catch a few more z's, wake up, freshen up
in the washroom, have some tea, plan my itinerary,
check my backpack in the left luggage, and finally
head out.  It's a beautiful day, and Konya has the
serenity to match.  Many Turks I talked to mentioned
they liked visiting Konya.  I don't see so much to do
here, but it's different from other Turkish cities
because the streets and sidewalks are clean and wide,
and well-maintained parks and trees decorate the city.
 Konya is a university city, and there are several
students all over the streets.  It is also a
conservative city, and thus is stocked with
above-average mosques.

There's also an efficient tram that reduces the
traffic, so it's also a relief to have some silence.  

My first order of business is to find something to
eat.  Unfortunately, as I've mentioned Konya being
conservative, it looks like I'll be observing Ramazan
again.  Fortunately, a local carpet seller spots me
and leads me to the only restaurant that is open.  Of
course, he tries to persuade me to visit his shop
first but is ultimately considerate of my hunger. 
According to him, I'm probably the only tourist
wandering in the city, and he's the only carpet vendor
who's decided to stay open in the low season - I guess
that means we're a perfect match?  

The restaurant isn't fully opened, and only serves a
mediocre soup and bread meal.  Nevertheless, I take
it, along with an unsatisfying, overly-sweet bread
dessert.  At the end of the meal, the restaurant owner
tries to charge me a ridiculous 5 million lira.  I
give him a look signalling that I know that he's
overcharging me, and he ends up only taking 3 million
lira from me admitting he's been caught.  I don't mind
paying the higher price (it's not much) if it was
stated, but I wasn't pleased with his dishonesty.

Finally, it's late enough in the day that Konya's key
attraction, the Mevlana Museum, is open.  I'm
surprised at the number of tour groups within the
confines of the museum walls, though none venture out
to the dismay of my carpet-selling friend.  

The Mevlana museum is all right.  The Persian poet
Rumi's coffin is there along with 60 of his friends
and family, with each coffin varying in size depending
on the person's importance and different coloured
turbans placed atop the coffins based on the person's
relationship to Rumi.  It's pretty holy, and I have to
put bags over my shoes before stepping into the
museum.  Some Muslim visitors are emotionally
overwhelmed as they pass the coffins.

It's not a large museum, so I leave pretty quickly,
and am quickly "caught" by the carpet salesman I met
earlier.  He knows I'm a tough sell, so he shows me
some wares, but is graceful as I decline to purchase
anything.  I walk over to a recommended bakery, which
of course is empty during this time of the day, and
try out an assortment of sweets, which pretty much
look the same.  I take them to go and sneak them in as
a meal at the bus station.  They're overly sweet, and
one sweet spinach pastry really leaves me ill for the
next few hours.

I board an afternoon bus to Ankara, the capital of
Turkey.  It's situated in a desert region, but the
ride there is scenic - colourful rolling plains and
all.  It's a bit of a surprise to see a large city,
complete with bad driving and all, after a few hours
of seeing little civilization.

The otogar/bus station is massive - it has several
levels, and as we make our approach, it feels like a
scene in a sci-fi movie where the tiny cargo ship
docks into the mother station.  I quickly drop my
backpacks off in the left luggage and find my way to
the subway.  After hastily jumping on the subway, I
aquaint myself with the transportation system, figure
out which direction I'm going, and chart out a rough
itinerary.

It's rush hour, and the subway gets pretty packed. 
The worst part is getting off, as entering passengers
don't have the courtesy to stand aside to let other
passengers exit, but rather create mayhem by forcing
their way in as others try to force their way out. 
It's a fast-paced society, much different from the
places I'm coming from.

I decide to try to see the Museum of Anatolian
Civilizations, though it closes within an hour.  I
barely make it, huffing and puffing as the museum is
located at the top of a hill, and the staff there let
me in for free seeing how late I arrived.  It's a
small museum, but it's packed with good stuff.  I
easily see it all as I'm not much of a fan of
prehistoric artifacts.

Leaving the museum, I spend a bit of time looking out
at the city from the top of the hill.  As the sun sets
and the prayer calls signal the end of the fasting
day, cars disappear and the big city becomes a bit
quieter, though not as quiet as Urfa.  I stroll over
to a really quaint neighbourhood at the top of the
hill.  All the houses are Ottoman, giving it a real
European charm - I can see what's all the fuss now
with Safranbolu - a small UNESCO protected town filled
with Ottoman houses.  I enter Zenger Pasa, a popular
restaurant in this neighbourhood, and really am amazed
at the Ottoman architecture.  The food is cheap and
really good, I have a panoramic view of the city, and
there's live music - quite a good setup.  

I leave the restaurant and head to the Kizilay
neighbourhood - a cool area with nightclubs and
interesting fast food.  I buy a really cheap doner
kebab - less than a $1, but it's really skimpy on the
chicken - so I pack it for the bus ride back to
Istanbul.  Instead, I walk over to a popular street
vendor grilling some chopped and spiced meat kebabs
under an overpass.  It's awesome - I suppose I can
call it Turkey's equal to Toronto's street meat. 
Street food rules.

Awesome kebab in hand, I decide to get lost a bit and
wander into a big market and photograph the vendors
there.  I hop the subway and head over to see
Ataturk's mausoleum.  It turns out to be closed at
this time, but it's so massive that I can easily see
it from the street.  Having enough fun, I go back to
the bus station, pseudo-randomly pick a night bus to
Istanbul (there are so many), and I'm off.