Ampitheatre at Ephesus from the Harbour Road
© J. J. McLelland 2005

Why drive to Didim in Turkey, surely its madness? The idea came during a nine-hour wait in Istanbul airport, wonderful cheesecake but you can only eat so much. Why wait around airports when we could be on the go in our own car enjoying and experiencing many of the great sights and countries of Europe? But, would it not just be a dash through Europe with ferry schedules to keep? Yes, but still an experience of a lifetime, and a holiday with a difference.

A winter of planning, the land route through Romania and Bulgaria or through Italy, and a cruise across the Adriatic in a ferry to Greece the short hop across the Dardanelles. The dream route was researched; the Internet helped give us the route along with a boatload of Michelin maps. The ferry companies were located and information sought, some designed to cause fear. Italian drivers are mad, the Greeks worse and in Turkey positively dangerous especially at night ….. Oh well, in for a penny.

The day finally dawned, school was over no messing setting off first thing Saturday morning, down to Dover, over the ferry to Boulogne, first night stop in France near historic Reims, then over the twisting, beautiful roads of the Vosges mountains and into Switzerland. The first Swiss person we met didn’t want to see our passport he just wanted 30 euros for the motorway sticker!

The sheer beauty of Switzerland takes your breath away the magnificence of the mountains the charming, pristine houses in equally charming villages and we were travelling on the motorway! I wondered at the railways winding themselves alongside and disappearing into the mountains, I bet they run on time too!! The Gotthard tunnel at nearly 17km long is an experience not to be missed and this was followed by a night in a delightful Swiss motel surrounded by mountains in the village of St Gotthard.

Gotthard Motel, Village of St. Gotthard Switzerland

©J.J.McLelland 2005

View down the valley to St.Gotthard ©J.J.McLelland 2005

Early next morning we drove out of Switzerland and onto the 'thrilling' motorways of Italy, there was some truth about the driving, ever felt like a sandwich? We travelled on the E55 motorway past Milan, Parma, Modena and Bologna with our first views of the Adriatic near Rimini. There was plenty of stopping places for petrol and food, after a while we even got used to paying for coffee and a sandwich before joining the melee and hopefully get what we paid for. Some Italians hearing a lost and hopeful English voice were very helpful and friendly often hovering close by until we had got what we needed. That third day we travelled over 800km through Italy, driving through San Marino and bypassing Ancona and Pescara. Motorway tolls cost around £33 / €45. By then my driving was as ‘good’, as the Italian. Southern Italy has a scarcity of motorway hotels, after some searching off the motorway we eventually found one, not overly impressive in the small town of Vasto looking directly onto the sea.

The scenery in Italy was mixed, often flat with colour being provided by flowering bushes in the central reservation. We have been told that the west coast of Italy is more rugged and interesting.

Dayfour and we arrived in Brindisi a historic city on the embarkation route for pilgrims to the holy land in the Middle Ages. Today it is a ferry port and home to many visiting yachts from all over Europe berthed on the harbour wall and marina. I could not resist speaking to one ‘live aboard’ an Australian and his partner who had sailed from Devon some fifteen years ago and was now on his way back to England. He thought they might get there in a year or two.

Brindisi Harbour ©J.J.McLelland 2005

A night crossing on a Greek ferry with passengers having to get out of the car and wait in a queue on the dockside, until the driver rejoined them. Once on the ship, a steward escorted us to our cabin. The ferry went to the port of Igoumenitsa in northern Greece just south of Albania stopping briefly to drop off passengers at Corfu. The early fifth morning arrival gave us a good start for the drive into the mountains and the town of Ioánnina.

Ioánnina on Lake Pamvotis was founded in 527CE by the Byzantine emperor Justinian 1 and part of the Eastern Roman Empire before being annexed by the Ottomans in the 1430’s. Greece claimed the town in 1913 and it was the scene of heavy fighting in World War II being captured, by the Germans in 1942.

For the first time on the trip the family tradition of getting lost, I prefer misplaced, came into being with three tours around the narrow streets in a one-way system. Finally we decided on the southern route back to the Adriatic coast, the new motorway, through the mountains to the east wasn’t ready.

We drove down the Adriatic / Ionian Sea coast to the pleasant looking town of Preveza over more mountains and inland to Agrinio. At this point we decided to resume an easterly course taking the road to Paravola across the top of Lake Trichonida, onto Thermo then the road north to the village of Prousos, the convent here is a place of pilgrimage, Mary, mother of Jesus having stayed there. The convent has had a rich history being the place of recuperation for Greek revolutionary leaders during the war of Independence in the 1820’s. The Germans burnt it down in August 1944. The mountainous roads with peaks up to 2000 metres were good but rather narrow; the buses that sped around the bends as if they didn’t exist provided the ‘hairy moments’.

We felt like pioneers going over these roads, notable on many of the bends, for the crash barriers that were falling into the depths. We made slow but steady progress and arrived eventually in Karpenisi. The road went east to Lamia; we had nearly reached the Aegean.

After a splendid night in a motel 300 metres from the Aegean Sea and south of the town of Volos, we set off for Thessaloniki to rejoin our original planned route. We had added some 600km and an extra days driving to our journey but we were on holiday and we had seen some spectacular sights and scenery.

The road across the top of the Aegean boasts many historic sites some from the Byzantine period, terrific sea and mountain views and a good motorway that had the habit of suddenly ending for a few kilometres before starting up again. The bulk of the traffic was Turkish people from Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Belgium and France going back home to Turkey for the holidays. We tried several conversations at the rest stops but their English was as good as our Turkish, French, German …….

We bypassed the city of Xanthi known as the, ‘city with a thousand colours’ it has a long history with references dating it to 879BC. In 1912 the Bulgarians seized the city, the Greeks recaptured it only for it to fall again and it remained in Bulgarian hands until the end of World War II. Kavala and Alexandroupoli were also bypassed and we left Greece and the European Union entering Turkey near Ipsala.

Formalities at the well-guarded border took around an hour, including the £10 tourist visa and the car details being placed on my passport. It is important not to lose the pink car registration document or you will have trouble leaving the country.

We took the road down the Gallipoli peninsula famous for the catastrophic and wasteful invasion in 1915 during World War I by French and British forces (including Australian and New Zealand forces, known as ANZAC’s).

This campaign ended in less than glorious failure late in 1915 with the loss of the battleships Ocean and Irresistible only two of the many ships lost and still lying at the bottom of the Dardanelle straits. Thousands of soldiers of both sides also died and are commemorated in the numerous cemeteries on the peninsula. The story of Gallipoli has been told in many a book including most recently by L.A. Carlyon in 2001.

Turkey looks after the fallen telling the visitor in the words of Attaturk that they will be cared for as if they were the sons of Turkey. A large contingent of Australians and New Zealanders visit the area each April to remember and commemorate ANZAC day

The drive down the east coast of the peninsula took just over an hour and we arrived in the village of Eceabat. There we joined a long queue of lorries, buses and cars we were reassured by the hovering street traders and windscreen washers that this was for the ferry. After two hours it was getting dark and we thought a night in the car was beckoning.

A rather fierce and moustached man approached us and in a loud voice, with much hand waving told us to leave and drive up the coast 5 kilometres and there we would find a car ferry. I thought it was only the English who spoke loudly to foreigners but it works in Turkey too. Off we went and near the village of Killitbahir we found the car ferry. On the hillside above the village is a sign warning of the danger of fire.

The ferry looked like the old Isle of Skye ferry roll on one end roll off the other, barge like. In no time we were on board and fifteen minutes later we had crossed The Dardanelles and had arrived in Canakkale.

Sunset over the Dardanelles ©J.J.McLelland 2005

The last leg of our journey to Didim was a little over 400km passing close to Troy, through Edremit and Ayvalik on the Aegean coast and from there down to the town of Menemen. This town shares its name with a Turkish (vegetarian) dish that I would recommend with a bottle of wine, or, for those of us with less refined tastes a large bottle of Efes, the local beer.

Izmir founded by Alexander the Great is the third largest city in Turkey and was previously known as Smyrna it was renamed after the Turkish war of independence in 1923. The excellent motorway goes through the middle of Izmir but can be a little slow at busy periods. Smyrna is mentioned in the Bible and is the location of one of the seven churches, addressed by John in the book of Revelation.

With just over a hundred kilometres to go we pass close to the ancient and ruined city of Ephesus, the ruined cities of Priene and Miletos. Several other ruined ancient sites such as that of Magnesia are passed en route and close to Didyma/Didim the glorious and magnificent Temple of Apollo. A fifteenth century earthquake toppled all bar three of the pillars. Finally the spectacular straight road into Didim and the resort of Altinkum, Attaturk Avenue with the glistening Aegean tantalising and inviting ahead of us, we had arrived.

5000km and six days - we were in our own bit of paradise!

Ataturk Avenue Didim ©J.J.McLelland 2005

Two of the surviving three pillars, Temple of Apollo