Monument to self doubt, (not mine!)

We were touched the next morning to find that the meal we had recieved was gratus and headed off to the post office, banfk and bread shops much cheered by the hospitable people. The post office took quite sometime because not only did I have a dozen postcards with slightly too limited space for the stamps but also Aaron's parcel. The guy that delt with stamps also seemed to be remarakbly busy- required to sign dozens of chits for various other people before he could deal with the complication of stamps for England. He took the letters onto his desk then gestured for me to rest in one of the many seats. I ended uptexting Alex to suggest he went on ahead to the shops rather than waiting in the car for me and when they brought me a glass of tea I know I had made the right decision! When thay got around to me there was some confusion and another customer thankfully came to my rescue with some excellent translation. It still took a long time and I was very appreciative of the guy who lived in Austria but has family in Turkey for hanging about with me for so long. Outside he absolutely refused my profered bar of tasty Greek chocolate in thanks but strongly suggestest I learn some basic Turkish pleasantries to get by and I felt justifiably repremanded. Finally we got on the road up to these ruins. It is the tomb of Antiochus I Epiphanes, founder of the Commangene Kingdom in around 40BC. It is the highest artifical mound in the world, (60m) with large statues of the king himself alongside various gods and guardian animals on both the east and west sides of the mound and a sacraficial alter. As warned, it was pretty snowy when we got up there and a taxi driver wating for his sightseers about 3KM from the top pointed out how it was quite icy from here and warned us agsinst it. We pressed on a little way to a flatter bit and then got out and walked. We decided we probably could have made it up to the car park but it would have been a little challenging and we could do with the walk. It was hard work indeed and there was a bitter wind blowing but we were well equiped and pressed on. As the taxi driver had warned, the snow clouds closed in a bit but luckerly for us no more than a few flakes fell while we were up there. It was a weird place- what sort of personality would insist on building a huge monument to their ife in so lonly a spot loking out over mountains and demand people bring offerings all the way up to it once a year. It smacked to me of a huge and deeply rooted insecurity and a two year old's temper with much ranting and foot stamping. I found it hard to appreciate the creation for it's artistic value, so tied up with his disfuntional personality as it was but it was an experinece to see. We went back down the mountain and crossed a lake by ferry- trying not to stare at the typically Turkish baggy trousers one guy with a donkey was wearing. I'd seen these in the town yesterday and while they seemed a sensible garment in themselves- a skirt all the way down to the ankles at which point they become trousers- it seemed so odd to see people wearing them with smart shirt waistcoast and jacket. We felt incresinglt cautious about the area we next headed into- the guide book described it as a very poor area with high unemployment and many kurdish refugees. The biggest town, Diyarbakir has black basalt walls and that is said to reflect the 'dark hearts' of the people which didn't make us keen to leave a car parked outside a hotel over night so we found a quiet spot by a lake some way before it to camp. We decided the next day though that actually the area was fine and the people were as friendly as they had been anywhere.