Its late afternoon, when we move on and the soft light brings a calm and warm atmosphere to the lake. We hug the waterside as we head towards Tatvan. Our journey is a magnificent landscape of interlocking, mountains and rocky spurs. Civilisation on the mountain slopes is non existent but cattle graze freely and keep the vegetation trim. At Tatvan, we are pulled in to the military check point and passports are checked. Once again, the police are courteous and friendly and before we know it we are on our way. Bazaar, it suddenly dawns on me. I no longer find the military check points intimidating or uneasy. In less than two weeks, I have come to accept this as normal.  Surely, that’s not right?

After a quick stop at the supermarket and a refuel at the Shell garage (inc free coconut muffins) we find ourselves driving passed Nemrut Dagi. The 3050m extinct volcano that used to stand 4450m tall until a huge volcanic explosion. The whole upper section of the peak was blown in to the air and it is this section that helped form and create Lake Van. 

Crates piled high

By nightfall, we were parked up at the town of Bitlis. Its a bit of a hilly place, so we opted to stay by the river on the dolmus park. Its a little busy but nothing too bad but at least it is flat. Next to us, a Syrian family are sleeping in the back of their transit van. Apart from trying to sell us a horrid pink frilly bed sheet they were a lovely family. 

Our Bumble free parking spot at Bitlis GPS position N038.397982, E042.104880

In the morning, Craig has tea with the dolmus drivers, whilst I take a shower and dry my hair. On the edge of the old town is a patch of derelict land and a stagnant rubbish pile.  The river that divides the town freely flows and aptly deposits town trash on the tuft. Dogs chase and rummage amongst the rubbish. A worn out bitch still with her pups is taunted by rampant males. They want nothing more than to mate amongst the filth.

I feel for her and minutes later, she is nudging my hand. I gently stroke her, she is so thin and tired. The pups want milk, the males want to mate and she just want rest. I spent a little time with her and for ten minutes I give her love and compassion, she enjoys every minute. But, I feel myself getting attached and emotional. I slowly and reluctantly walk away, I can’t bear to think what her future holds. 

Next door to this soiled land is a small cemetery, over grown, ramshackle and fenced. Inside, gravestones fringed in green and topped with head and foot stones to mark the resting place of those who have died in the struggle. There are several mosques in the town, such as the Ulu Mosque from the 12th century and the Serefiye Mosque. Bitlis is a Kurdish town and life here can get tough. Once again there is a sense of volatility amongst the jovial smiles, sips of tea and daily life.

The residential architecture is different from anything we have seen so far. Dark stone walls and rugged houses with flat roofs that seem to have bushy undergrowth piled on top of them. All of which are set in a deep valley. At the peak, a run down castle with polygonal towers that dominates the centre of Bitlis. It is on a grand scale and has the same upwardly tapering walls like the castle in Lake Van. Its lifeblood used to be its location on the main transit road linking the Tigris and Euphrates basins with that of Lake Van. Sadly, new tunnels and roads have directed trade away but the atmosphere and buzz of Bitlis is still evident. 

The town stands in a narrow stream valley just in the middle of a green oasis. Due to its location, it is an important centre for tobacco and honey production in eastern Turkey. The city is surrounded by walnut trees, and can buy direct from sacks on the street or from the children who sell them along the road side. We slow meander through the town stopping at old cobblers, wool shop, bakers and many more. Its fascinating but surviving the dust is a challenge.

One of the main water pipes has burst and it is like a mini stream. One guy is so brassed off with it, he gets sits in the middle of the road with his fishing rod. Hopefully someone finds the funny side of his humour.

The main through road, as traffic, lorries and coaches swish by and stir up clouds of thick and unpleasant dust.   We cough our way along in their wake and return to Vin to find we are caked in a thin coat of grey cement dust. 

Mid afternoon and we continue along the D965, the road is in a good state of repair. We wind through the valley gorge and slowly begin our ascent.  Craig is pleased the fuel consumption, makes a change to be descending after weeks of ascending.  The landscape is amazing as always and peaks dotted with more military outposts. This time they are much smaller, manned by two or three soldiers and their excitement at seeing a motorhome is evident in waves and cheers. We return the gesture with a honk of the horn and a wave.

A good few kilometres from the town of Batman we hit a bad road.  It is like driving over a dried riverbed of molten lava, extremely rocky and bumpy. Pinball wizard would be a good song to marry with the stretch of land. At Batman we turn on to the D370 with more vast plains and gorges. Its not long and we are pulled over at a military check point. A policeman checks our passport whilst a soldier steps inside. He tentatively looks around and then he spots kitchen roll, tears a piece off and proceeds to wipe the floor. How courteous is that!   

Hope he doesn’t wobble over

Arrive at Hasankeyf and greeted by guide. He is nice and polite but we are tired and want our space. As we sit on the step, he shows us his official tour guide card. A proud young lad but sadly, it bears a false Turkish name, his real Kurdish name is not permitted. We smile, chat for five and then retire to our bed. 

Our Bumble free parking spot at Hasankeyf GPS position N037.714555, E041.418043