After a day of eating kebabs and drinking saleps in Adana, Ilaria and me left one of the largest Turkish cities and chose a small historical town named Mardin as our last destination in Turkey. There was only 600 km in front of us to hitchhike for that day, so we started our day by taking a slow truck. We used our hand language to make conversation with two truck drivers, who gave me chaplet as a present, and who gave signals for a faster truck to stop and bring us further. Eventually, we changed that truck with a car driver, who left us at some small town, where we made a break looking at the sheep who are waiting to become kebabs, being chained for a tree.
Further on the road, we got into the few hours of life of unusual three friends: slightly retarded young man, old man with an evil face and nicely dressed guy with mustaches who looked like a pimp selling the body of a young man to the old one. I don't know... something didn't feel right about them. But then again, maybe I was wrong... and like so many people that we met before that day, they stopped for lunch which they insisted to pay for us.
Finally, we arrived in Mardin, and our host Mehmet seemed very happy, enthusiastic and a bit nervous to have us as his guests. Again, we couldn't escape from Turkish hospitality, no matter we ate already 3 times that day. He insisted to bring us to some fancy restaurant and order everything he can think of. We felt like Hansel and Gretel, being fed all the time and feeling like raw kebabs. However, we survived, and continued the evening enjoying the night lights of that small spectacular town trapped between the hills...
Further on the road, we got into the few hours of life of unusual three friends: slightly retarded young man, old man with an evil face and nicely dressed guy with mustaches who looked like a pimp selling the body of a young man to the old one. I don't know... something didn't feel right about them. But then again, maybe I was wrong... and like so many people that we met before that day, they stopped for lunch which they insisted to pay for us.
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| Having lunch with suspicious looking Turks |
Finally, we arrived in Mardin, and our host Mehmet seemed very happy, enthusiastic and a bit nervous to have us as his guests. Again, we couldn't escape from Turkish hospitality, no matter we ate already 3 times that day. He insisted to bring us to some fancy restaurant and order everything he can think of. We felt like Hansel and Gretel, being fed all the time and feeling like raw kebabs. However, we survived, and continued the evening enjoying the night lights of that small spectacular town trapped between the hills...
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