Ephesus to Pergamon...3 hours drive

Can't complain.  I haven't mentioned this but our minibus is very comfortable, a Merc, with nice seats, a fridge for our water, a/c, and a lovely driver called Vaysi who is the soul of patience and good humour.  The time passes very quickly and there is always an occasional stop for coffee, often at a place known to Nahide, who seems to have friends everywhere who are thrilled to see her, and not just because of the business she brings.  I've been listening to music, editing photos, chatting and reading.  Oh, and snoozing.  Snoozing is always good.

Pergamon has two sections of interest:  the old town with winding cobbled streets and tiny houses (built with a courtyard inside away from prying eyes, and called peristyle architecture);  and the ancient acropolis (not only Athens)  which is built on top of the cliff positioned so that anyone approaching from the Aegean sea will be seen and will see the might and power of the rulers. 

We hit the town first, wandering around the lanes taking photos and practising our extremely limited Turkish which in my case is limited to 3 phrases:

hallo = mere haba

lutfen = please

teshek cure = thank you

Oh and my counting is up to...FIVE!!! Nearly as high as I can count in my own language:

Beer

Itchy

Cooch

Dirt

Besh.  Really.

Anyway, charming old town, full of marvellous old doorways, shutters, cobbles and houses in various stages of attractively decaying condition, so lots of good photographic subjects.  

Next thing:  lunch.  Nahide took us to a carpet co-operative out of town, which brings together weavers and designers from the outlying villages and areas all over Turkey and also does the silk production and dyeing of wool/silk on the premises.  In addition, they produce a meal, no choices, all typical Turkish.  Menu today was yoghort, tomato salad, fava beans with sauce served hot, bread and bulgur rice.  

Note to self: I must source some bulgur suitable for cooking in this style.  It's nutty tasting and delicious. 

We watched silk production, which I had seen before in Cambodia, but the method was a little different.  We learnt about plants that produce dye:  madder, pomegranate, walnut, rosehip, onion skins etc.  Then we met the ladies that do the weaving on a base of either cotton or silk, with either silk, or wool.  The cost is dependent upon the design - some are extraordinarily complex - and the quality of the materials:  local wool is coarser, silk is obviously very fine.  Some simple pieces take only about 3 months to produce - others can take over a year.  Some of our group were interested in buying, so we settled down to the business of displaying the wares.  Carpet after carpet was brought out and unrolled with a flourish until the entire floor (the room was about 15m square) was covered with a riot of colour and pattern.  Our photographer then had an idea.

He has a new canon lens at 11mm.  Nearly a fish eye but not quite.  So there was a discussion, some fiddling with equipment, and a ladder was procured and put up in the middle of the room.  There is a lattice of metal rails to support regular lighting for the room, some ten feet off the ground.  The tripod was positioned in the middle, the legs splayed to support it, and the camera pointing down towards the ground.  Distances were checked and John came down, the ladder disappeared, and using an automatic triggering device and a 2 second delay mode, pictures were taken. Here we are messing about and preparing.  It took quite some time to set up.

 A bright idea, but that wasn't all.  

To the immense amusement of the staff a group shot was arranged, and various poses were essayed.  We lay down, arms wide, hands held, legs wide, legs straight etc.  Then standing faces upwards.  

Another idea:  the ladies were persuaded to sit with skeins of wool between them in a diamond shape, hands stretched to the middle.  The result is amazing.  When I get a copy I will post them...truly fantastic.

Meanwhile the bartering was on.  

One pleasant change was that these people were not pushy, aggressive, or in any way trying to persuade us to buy.  They simply showed off their rugs, waiting for them to become an object of desire.  

Wendy bought a runner.  Amy bought several carpets, being a self confessed 'carpetaholic'.  Hm.

John bought a small rug discounted to the promise of them being able to use the photos for publicity.

Did I not buy?  Really?

Simon waved me off with strict instructions explicitly NOT to buy a carpet.  

I would be lying if I said I wasn't tempted.  There were many gorgeous examples of every size and design and texture.  The prices were good, the provenance was assured. 

In the end, despite all the excuses (can't buy for one child, what of the others...they won't appreciate them....where shall we put one....blah, blah) and the fact of the 'prohibition', the real reason was that there was not a  particular one that stole my heart.  And I like being married to Simon!  I don't want to give him any excuses.  

Perhaps we will return and choose something together...?

We were very happy with our visit, all in all and topped up with turkish coffee or apple tea, we made for the Acropolis above the new/old city.

The hill up is very steep, and there is a cable car which we did not use.  Happily large groups had departed for the day and we had the place almost to ourselves.  

There are the remains of the Trajan temple (he was actually worshipped!) from about 2nd century AD, which is unique in design being built on a support platform of three layers of arches; the altar to Zeus to whom offerings were made in times of war (seems to have been pretty much all the time, so they were kept busy with sacrifices), the steepest theatre (18 degrees gradient),  and there was a library was where Trajan temple is but Romans sacked the city, and built the temple on top of the foundations.  The books were parchment and survived the fire, and were sent by mark Anthony to Cleopatra in Egypt – she put them in the Alexandrian library and they survived again the fires there – they then migrated to Sicily, Florence, Vatican city etc where they reside in the  various museums there.  The altar of Zeus is in the Pergamon museum in Berlin.

The best part was the rose coloured light cast by the setting sun onto the marble.  

Here are some of the galleries that support the temple:

For anyone interested, Pergamon was the last of the seven churches founded by St John, and his Christians named Zeus altar the altar of Satan. The people here were very loyal to Zeus. (Ephesus was the first of those churches).

Funniest moment was when the guardian of the site - one uniformed man with a loud whistle - began to blast it about 15 minutes before sunset.  Now we don't reckon the site is meant to close so early, so we dispersed and ignored the call to leave.  Happily a large Russian group was roaming around, and they were definitely not going anywhere.  The poor man was running around trying to shepherd people away, and no one was listening.  He started yelling and we just produced a gallic shrug and said something like 'we don't understand Turkish'.  It was farcical.  We had to climb out over a fence as the exit gates were closed.  Nahide reckoned he had a dinner date to go to.

Here was our last view of the temple sillouetted against the darkening skies:

We are in the Hotel La Bella in modern Bergama tonight.  

Time for bed.