Bulgarians are warm and wonderful people. Their ancient
country is in a strategic location near the Turkish Straits;
it controls key land routes from Europe to the Middle East
and Asia. We took one of those routes for a brief visit to
Turkey with the Gozdov’s friends, the Petrovs.
Most important lessons I relearned: Taking a short cut
doesn’t always get you where you want to go faster.
We were on a delightful excursion with Hristo Petrov at the
wheel. Bound for Istanbul, we first visited the ancient city
of Troy. This was a special treat as I climbed into the
Trojan horse for a photo op, walked through the ruins upon
ruins of the city, and picked up a small rock for
remembrance. I think it was legal. In Troy, as in Bulgaria,
I was struck by the succession of buildings upon buildings.
They have marked seven cities of Troy, each built upon the
ruins of the other. It reminded me of the value of building
on what we have learned in the past and the firm foundation
a good education provides.
After Troy, we spent the night in Chanacle on the
Dardanelles Straits where I learned about the battles of
World War I fought for control. A ferry ride took us across
to the road to Istanbul and we were on our way. Ah, but
there was a blue line on the map along the coast that would
cut many kilometers off the trip.
So, though the road sign to Istanbul pointed in another
direction, off we went to the coast! How many times have you
taken a short cut and had it turn out successfully?
Very quickly, the paved road vanished and we wound our way
from village to village on one-lane unpaved roads, often
high above the sea. Spas, the navigator, asked directions
several times–but his Turkish was as poor as my Bulgarian.
Clinging to the side of the mountain on the tiny road, we
could look down the steeply sloping fields to the sea.
Only Spas thought to look up the mountain. He cheerfully
pointed out the silhouettes of a goat herd against the blue
sky. We were not alone!
The road got worse; it became two tracks in the dirt. At one
point, water from a spring higher up the mountain crossed
the tracks and ran on down. The stability of our perch came
into question. Hristo apologized again and again; but no
need, we were on an adventure, laughing and talking! Then we
spotted the car that had run off the road and was flipped on
its side in a field far below. We paused to consider, but
had no options open at that point. We pressed on.
Finally, solid ground and paved roadway! We had only lost
about three hours in the process. It was rush hour when we
reached Istanbul and the gas tank was on empty. Cars five
and six abreast, people rushing from work–which lane should
we be in? Where is the nearest gas station? “Petrol?” Spas
asked again and again of people in other cars inching along
by our side. Finally we coasted into a service station.
The adventure had ended. What an exciting trip. Think of
what we would have missed on the beaten path!
