Stuffed in Turkey - Blogabond

Taking trains in this part of the world can be thoroughly disconcerting for the following reasons: Firstly, whereas in the bigger stations in London, trains arrive and depart every couple of minutes, in the forty minutes I was at Haydarpasa station in Istanbul, mine was the only train to depart. Secondly, you can board the train a considerable time before it sets off, during which time it will make strange clunking noises as if threatening to take off and confirm your fears that you are in fact on the wrong train. The quality of the trains, however, is better than in most of Europe, with more legroom, nicer toilets and bigger windows. The trolley even comes down the train every half hour or so, significantly better than in Britain, and because the aisle is so big this doesn't disrupt your movements down the carriage.

The four hour journey to Eskisehir therefore flew by, especially as I have been used to much longer journeys over the past few weeks. The next six hours would be more challenging - stuck at Eskisehir station, waiting for my train to Izmir. I managed to find a machine that for a small fee would look after my bag for a couple of hours so I could stretch my legs and explore the town. Having located a civilian who spoke English, I managed to communicate my intentions to the person manning the machine, who told me that I needed to be back no later than 5.30 as there was a likelihood the machine would malfunction and this was when he left work.

I won't waste space describing the town - suffice it to say that I was probably the only English-speaker in a 20 mile radius in an area not known for its tourism. It wasn't bad; there was just nothing there worth seeing. So I made my way back to the station, made use of the free WiFi and read. At 5.20 I returned to the spot specified to collect my bag. I waited; the machine had clearly broken or been turned off or otherwise ceased to work. 5.30 came and went; I continued to wait. A station worker who had passed me by several times, tried to explain in frustrated Turkish that - I imagine, not that I could understand -I could not leave my bag there because it was not on/working; he banged the doors, shouted at me, shook his head and walked off. More people came, to whom I tried to explain that my bag was actually in there, but nobody understood, clearly thinking I was either incredibly stupid or incredibly stubborn.

Finally somebody came who spoke very broken English. I showed him my ticket from the machine, and he understood. Eventually he managed to locate the man who ran the machine and after several attempts to coax it into handing over the goods, it opened up and I was able to take my bag away. I was reassured that they had taken the security of my possessions seriously; I just wish they had been a little easier to access.

When I was finally able to board the train at nearly 10, I was pleased to see I had a single seat between the aisle and the window. However, the woman in front of me kicked up a fuss about being sat opposite a man, and so I did the gentlemanly thing and sacrificed my superior seat. The new one had half the leg room and was opposite somebody else, which effectively limited me from moving my feet; as a result, I slept very little and in the morning was alarmed to see that my ankles had actually swollen from lack of movement. But back to the woman, who by now had vacated the seat behind me and had taken up a further two seats across the aisle, and having left her possessions on my original seat she was effectively taking up three. Some time later, she advanced her foot onto a further seat, contorting her body painfully to extend her monopoly over my part of the train. Petty things like this don't normally bother me, but as I lay awake squeezed into less space than a child could be expected to occupy, my anger gradually increased. Every time I did go to sleep, the train would stop, make the aforementioned clunking noises, and so I would again be disturbed. I approached Izmir more in need of a cup of coffee than ever in my life.

written by

BenWH on April 21, 2009 from Eskisehir, Turkey

from the travel blog: Gap Year Odyssey

tagged Turkey

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