Journey to Ankara

It was refreshing to be off the hair raising D-100 in Turkey. We passed five trucks that hadn't successfully negotiated the winding turns down the mountain pass. Their wheels had eaten the curb. Some were hanging off embankments; others were upside down with wheels still spinning in the air.

Instead of branching off of the busy D-100 onto one of the smaller country roads winding into the mountain villages, we pushed the red button at the toll booth and headed onto the super highway; a stark contrast, affording us six lanes of virtually traffic free space to move on. 454 kilometers of it stretch between Istanbul and Ankara; the prettiest section winds through desert mountains, east of Bolu. Not long ago a shepherd could look out over the unbroken desert mountains and see more mountains with only small scars where the dirt roads connect the mountain villages. Now his view is split by a six lane banded snake. I can't complain, since I am able to cover this distance in less than five hours, but I feel as though I am invading the backyard of the people who live in the once quiet hillside villages. With few exits and a discouragingly hefty toll, this super highway was built for people passing through, not for those people living with all its noise and air pollution.

The drive over this arid land might be more rewarding sharing the old dusty mountain roads with the horse carts.