Trabzon 10.12.2024

Good morning from Trabzon!

I never thought I would miss my sleeping spot in the rooftop tent of a camper van. However, during the past night, it definitely happened at least six to eleven times.

We chose the hotel based on several criteria: it needed to offer a decent parking spot with an electrical connection so that we wouldn't have to empty the fridge. It should rather be on the outskirts of Trabzon, preferably nearer to the airport than in the middle of the city. This would make picking up the women much easier, so we wouldn't have to drive the Benz all the way through the city. Additionally, if possible, we wanted a unit with two bedrooms instead of two small double rooms. Well, with these parameters, other aspects may sometimes fall by the wayside. The “Sweet-Home-Suite-Hotel” fulfilled all the listed requirements. However, we still occasionally calculate how exactly the specified 80sqm might have come about. Even during the planning of the bathroom, there were clearly some mix-ups or other irritations, as the upper edge of the shower cabin is about 176cm high, making entering and exiting rather acrobatic for me.

When assigning the rooms, we had the choice between a double bed with airport and construction noise or two single beds with the loudspeakers of the local muezzin below the balcony. I opted for a short interruption of my sleep at 5:32 am. What I hadn't counted on were the invisible but clearly audible mosquitoes despite earplugs. One of those pesky creatures met its demise at about 1:30 am. Yet, at least one more was still unaccounted for. Furthermore, it was far too warm under my blanket, so I couldn’t really cool down and recover after each chase. I experienced a constant cycle of trying to fall asleep and hunting mosquitoes. At some point, fatigue must have overcome me as the muezzin wished me a good morning with at least 93db behind my earplugs.
A good three hours later, I was holding the morning coffee prepared by Kadir. He apologized, saying it was only instant coffee from the kitchen of our apartment. However, it still tasted good, just different from the daily artwork during caravan times.

We prepared for the day as we were planning to go to Haydar in the late morning. Our decision against a rental car turned out to be spot on. First, taxi prices are very reasonable; secondly, there are hardly any larger parking spots, and thirdly, it’s much more relaxed not having to drive ourselves. The taxi called by the porter arrived, and off we went in the wild chase. I was really eager to buckle up in the back seat, but I couldn't find a seatbelt buckle for the life of me. No matter how much I groped between the seat and backrest. Nothing. During the course of the day, I noticed that the seatbelt rule is not taken too seriously here. If 50% buckle up, that is considered a lot. The helmet rule seems to be somewhat better observed, though. Here, the drivers mostly wear helmets while passengers at the backseat ride 99% of the time without one.
It quickly became clear to me that we must have ended up in the vehicle of the Turkish rally champion of 1983. Or there was a medical emergency in his immediate family just before our pick-up, and he was rushing to it. The sportsman zoomed through Trabzon as fast as the Dacia could go. I was very surprised by the performance of this car, which had a clearly six-digit mileage. From today on, I know that the phrase “the ride flew by” originally comes from Eastern Turkey. Inshallah.

Haydar lives in a condominium in one of the typical multi-family houses here, with five or six floors. There was a big hello as we hadn’t seen each other for nearly 20 years since meeting during a vacation week in Bodrum, where Kadir, Simon, and I celebrated the first and only foam party of my life at Halikarnas.
Alongside Haydar, his son Hakan, his daughter Hande with her two children, and Kadir's mother, who had just arrived yesterday, greeted us. Of course, there was immediately cay and peanuts to snack on and shortly afterward, pide (one with minced meat, one with cheese). I enjoyed this familiar atmosphere of Turkish-German conversations at a sometimes deafening volume, something that I rarely experience anymore compared to my youth. If I were to encounter it again, I probably wouldn’t perceive it with the same sentimentality. As all the important and unimportant questions were discussed, but certainly not resolved, we made our way to the city.

We walked downhill for a good 45 minutes until we reached a pedestrian-friendly area bustling with people. We made our way to a specific TurkCell shop, as Hakan wanted to help us obtain a SIM card with data volume for our hotspot. Upon entering the shop, we immediately walked past all the staff and up to the third floor. There we were received in the office of the area manager. A quarter of an hour later, we had a SIM card with 100GB in our extra smartphone, which we purchased for a slim €35.

We continued to stroll through the city, leisurely walking along the newly created peninsula by the waterside from café to café. We spotted the vehicle of a traveler from Bonn, whom we met in Samsun, and had a quick chat. Eventually, we found ourselves in the old part of Trabzon and wandered through the narrow streets with wide eyes. Hakan, who now lives several kilometers away and had also lived in the distant Samsun, was greeted on almost every corner and engaged in a brief conversation. Everywhere there were fruit and vegetable shops with enormous, colorful displays. I have no idea who is ever going to eat all of that.

Since Rudy and Julia were eventually supposed to land despite the delay, we took a taxi to the hotel. This ride showed that in these yellow vehicles, there are not only former race drivers.

At 8:30 pm, Kadir served Hakan and me another coffee at the roastery in the Benz as we woke him up for the women’s pick-up. Shortly thereafter, we rolled up to the terminal in the caravan. We opened the sliding door, and both jumped into the vehicle. Fortunately, the ride back to the hotel was short as I had to stand up to compensate for the direction changes and inclines. You quickly adapt to the customs of international road traffic.

After a much-too-extensive dinner at our local köfte restaurant, along with the concluding baklava and the obligatory well-wishes, we quickly headed to bed.

May the coming night be better...