Part 10, Turkey 2011: The Cold Blue Waters of Lake Van
Van is a strange city. Nestled between snowcapped mountains on one side and the vast Lake Van on the other, it feels as though it's set into a hidden corner of the world. Despite its size, there are virtually no recognizable brands, the population is almost completely Kurdish, as is the food, and when you're here everyone knows you're an outsider. We were the only tourists we saw, and it's a shame because there is a deep history here.
The city dates back to 1300 BC when it was a Urartian town based around the Rock of Van, which I stand atop here:
Below me are layers and layers of history. Urartian structures covered over and built upon, with the standing ruins today being the original city of Van which was destroyed in WWI by the Ottomans during their Russian retreat. One of the only structures remaining from that time is the mosque overlooking Lake Van:
And though there are few remaining Urartian structures, the modest museum in Van has a treasure trove of all they left behind from stelae:
(which actually predate the Urartians by several thousand years)
and cuneiform gravestones which are nearly identical to those we erect today:
The museum also houses a collection of Ottoman manuscripts dating to the 17th century which, to my profound amusement, had been edited with red ink all those centuries ago:
(I guess some things never change)
But if the museums and ruins weren't enough to draw visitors,cat lovers would be remiss in passing up the very thing Van is most famous for: Van Cats. As demonstrated by this gloriously tacky billboard:
(don't ask me to explain the flamingo)
Prized for their white fur and mismatched eyes, the Turkish Van is a breed beloved among cat collectors. Sadly, this has led to some rather depressing conditions for the cats. In one local shop, we found a very sweet cat crammed into a tiny cage. I attempted, through limited Turkish and pantomime, to communicate with the owner that the cage was too small and that the cat needed a bigger enclosure. The man indicated (don't ask me how I figured this out because he spoke NO English) that he couldn't let the cat out because he had birds and as for getting a larger cage, that was lost on him and I had no idea where to purchase one.
Sean and I debated all evening if we should just purchase the cat, but since we couldn't get it back to the states, we decided it was a dead end -- releasing it might only make for a worse fate. I tried to console myself with the fact that the cat was sociable, well-nourished, and had healthy paw pads. This indicated to me that the cat did indeed get out and had not been in the cage terribly long. But it was a cold comfort.
What DID comfort me was when our guide took us to a sanctuary for Van Cats that are not deemed suitable for the pet trade and would otherwise roam feral. It was a clean, large, open-air facility which, though not up to the standards of no-kill shelters here, was about as nice as someone could expect in a developing nation. Better yet, these cats were lovely to visit with:
(he was the only grumpy cuss, and he looks it, too)
(Notice the eyes)
There was also this adorable girl who nibbled on my fingers:
After visiting with the kitties, we stopped by the side of Lake Van so that we could swim in its saline waters. I couldn't visit the area and have not done it. Van is the second largest lake in the Middle East (covering 1,434 square miles) and one of the largest saltwater lakes in the world. Very little survives in it and had it not been for the warm weather that day, its freezing water would have been too much to take:
Further up the road, skirting the Iranian border en route to Mount Ararat, we stopped by the majestic Muradiye Falls:
But not before braving the suspension bridge to get to them:
It was worth it, though. For lunch was set upon a cliff overlooking the falls, so close that the cool spray of water could be felt on our faces. It was a much needed refreshment, for the road to Ararat would continue into the evening hours and bring us to our first run-in with the deadly Jandarma.
The city dates back to 1300 BC when it was a Urartian town based around the Rock of Van, which I stand atop here:
Below me are layers and layers of history. Urartian structures covered over and built upon, with the standing ruins today being the original city of Van which was destroyed in WWI by the Ottomans during their Russian retreat. One of the only structures remaining from that time is the mosque overlooking Lake Van:
And though there are few remaining Urartian structures, the modest museum in Van has a treasure trove of all they left behind from stelae:
(which actually predate the Urartians by several thousand years)
and cuneiform gravestones which are nearly identical to those we erect today:
The museum also houses a collection of Ottoman manuscripts dating to the 17th century which, to my profound amusement, had been edited with red ink all those centuries ago:
(I guess some things never change)
But if the museums and ruins weren't enough to draw visitors,cat lovers would be remiss in passing up the very thing Van is most famous for: Van Cats. As demonstrated by this gloriously tacky billboard:
(don't ask me to explain the flamingo)
Prized for their white fur and mismatched eyes, the Turkish Van is a breed beloved among cat collectors. Sadly, this has led to some rather depressing conditions for the cats. In one local shop, we found a very sweet cat crammed into a tiny cage. I attempted, through limited Turkish and pantomime, to communicate with the owner that the cage was too small and that the cat needed a bigger enclosure. The man indicated (don't ask me how I figured this out because he spoke NO English) that he couldn't let the cat out because he had birds and as for getting a larger cage, that was lost on him and I had no idea where to purchase one.
Sean and I debated all evening if we should just purchase the cat, but since we couldn't get it back to the states, we decided it was a dead end -- releasing it might only make for a worse fate. I tried to console myself with the fact that the cat was sociable, well-nourished, and had healthy paw pads. This indicated to me that the cat did indeed get out and had not been in the cage terribly long. But it was a cold comfort.
What DID comfort me was when our guide took us to a sanctuary for Van Cats that are not deemed suitable for the pet trade and would otherwise roam feral. It was a clean, large, open-air facility which, though not up to the standards of no-kill shelters here, was about as nice as someone could expect in a developing nation. Better yet, these cats were lovely to visit with:
(he was the only grumpy cuss, and he looks it, too)
(Notice the eyes)
There was also this adorable girl who nibbled on my fingers:
After visiting with the kitties, we stopped by the side of Lake Van so that we could swim in its saline waters. I couldn't visit the area and have not done it. Van is the second largest lake in the Middle East (covering 1,434 square miles) and one of the largest saltwater lakes in the world. Very little survives in it and had it not been for the warm weather that day, its freezing water would have been too much to take:
Further up the road, skirting the Iranian border en route to Mount Ararat, we stopped by the majestic Muradiye Falls:
But not before braving the suspension bridge to get to them:
It was worth it, though. For lunch was set upon a cliff overlooking the falls, so close that the cool spray of water could be felt on our faces. It was a much needed refreshment, for the road to Ararat would continue into the evening hours and bring us to our first run-in with the deadly Jandarma.