(Trying) to Leave Marmara Adasi and Get to Canakkale
So, we had this half-baked plan to catch the 1100am boat from Marmara Adasi to Narli on the mainland. From here we could take a dolmus (we think) or taxi to the town of Bandirma, from where we could catch one of the Kamil Koc coaches to Canakkale, taking 5-6 hours. Bahar had made some calls, and it seemed that there was a boat that ‘may’ go to Tekirdag, north of the island, from where there was a shorter bus journey to Canakkale. The latter appealed much more, though we needed to check this at the port office.
After another astounding breakfast, we sadly said goodbye to our hosts via Google Translate. As I played our thanks to them, a family also staying at the hotel gave a round of applause, recognising the deserved appreciation for such lovely people.
We walked to the port office, which looks more like a government building rather than somewhere to buy your ferry tickets. We asked about the boat to Tekirdag, and at first, he looked unsure. He told us that there ‘could’ be a boat at 1200 and we would buy our tickets on the boat. It sounded like he was just fobbing us off, but we had no option but to accept what he said.
Next to the port office is a small cafe stand and a shaded seating area, so we plonked ourselves down and grabbed a tea. Peter began to trawl the internet for timetable information but that was like looking for a Turkish needle in a haystack. Several people were waiting to catch a boat, and when the 11:00 boat to Narli arrived, the whole café emptied. We may have just seen our best hope about to go. At that point, we would have been in with a chance of getting a ticket and boarding. However, sometimes you just have to throw your fate into the lap of the Gods, so we stayed put and watched the last few people board the boat.
A man selling simet from a mobile stand at the front of the cafe asked us (in Turkish) what we were waiting for. We got the gist. He thought we were going to miss the boat, which was getting ready to loosen the ropes from the quayside. We told him ‘Tekirdag’, to which he just shook his head. He spoke to the lady running the cafe, seemingly to check if she knew about a boat to Tekirdag. She also looked unsure. She took out her phone and spoke to someone. By the time she’d finished the call, a couple of other locals had arrived and joined the conversation. One of them, a young woman walking her dog, spoke English, so this certainly helped us all understand the conversation.
From what the lady told us, there could’ (there’s that word again!) be a boat to Tekirdag, but it may depart from Saraylar, the marble quarrying town on the other side of the island. If it did, it would leave at 4pm and the afternoon bus would get us there in time. This made sense because Saraylar was almost directly opposite Tekirdag.
We told them that the man in the ticket office had told us one would come to Marmara at 12. The consensus between the little band of people who had now gathered to help us was that we should wait, and if nothing came, we should head to Saraylar. So that we did.
As 1200 approached, we moved towards the harbour accompanied by our band of helpers. Out on the horizon, we could see a boat heading towards us. As the old car ferry pulled into the port, the simet seller shouted something to the crew. He turned to us, shaking his head. It’s not this one. 45 minutes later, another boat approached the harbour, this time looking a bit more passenger-carrying-like. This boat wouldn’t be going anywhere after Marmara today. We were beginning to think about making plans to catch the bus over to Saraylar, but there were no guarantees that the boat would arrive there either. Maybe we’d need to spend another night on Marmara Adasi, which, quite honestly, wouldn’t be a hardship at all.
After another twenty minutes with our small group of helpers, who were looking more nervous than we were, another boat appeared on the horizon. It was a funny-looking vessel that had a touch of the Captain Pugwash’s about it. Mr Simet again approached the crew as it docked and asked its destination for us again, and YES! This boat WAS going to Tekirdag! I don’t know who was more thrilled, us or our band of helpers!
After thanking them for their help, we boarded and settled up on the deck for the ride. The Omer Kaptain 3 had definitely seen better days. The seating was mainly wooden benches, which for some had doubled up as a bed, along with a mish-mash of furniture that looked as though it had been sourced from a flea market. I love these characterful ships though. There was a small canteen selling glasses of tea and snacks, enough to keep Peter happily supplied for the journey.
We left Marmara Adasi with a little bit of sadness. I’d really warmed to this island and the people we’d met. It reminded me of Greek travel in the old days. As we sailed north of the island, we caught a glimpse of Saraylar. We knew it was Suraylar because of the glistening white scars on the landscape where this precious marble is quarried. The marble here has been quarried for more than 2 millennia – when will it ever run out? That was a serious question that I needed an answer to, so I turned to the internet to find out more. It transpires that Marmara Adası is essentially one big marble mountain. The whole island is dominated by marble deposits that are several kilometres thick in places. Geologists estimate reserves in the hundreds of millions of cubic meters. Although marble has been quarried on the island for 2,600 years, the ancient and medieval extraction volumes were tiny compared to modern industrial quarrying. Today’s machines remove in a year what the Romans might have taken in decades — but the deposits are still vast.
It took 2 hours to reach Tekirdag. The port is big and fairly industrial. The ferry terminal is modern and whilst making our way to the exit, I checked out the ferry timetables on display. It seems that the boat Omer Kaptain 3 sails a regular route from Avsa Adasi, one of the smaller Marmara Islands to Tekirdag regularly. However, less frequently it will also call into Marmara Adasi. I guess we absolutely timed our departure correctly! Or rather, our fate fell into the correct God’s lap!
As usual, the bus station was nowhere near the port, so we picked up a taxi across the road to take us there. We were dropped off at a large modern bus station, where we purchased our tickets to Canakkale. We had a fair bit of time to wait for the bus, so we settled down at a table in a cafe and tucked into some snacks.
The time came to board the bus – again we were very impressed with the calibre of coaches with all mod cons, including entertainment screens and charging ports.
The journey took 2.5 hours, so only marginally less time than our Plan A, but a much simpler route. We left industrial Tekirdag and headed out onto the highway towards Canakkale. The sun began to set as we flew past vast open plains of rural landscape, interspersed with small clusters of high-rise buildings all tinged with a gentle hue of sunset pink. As darkness fell, we caught our first sight of the Dardanelles. After driving along the highway parallel to this wide stretch of water, we turned onto the vast expanse of bridge that crossed it. We were soon in Canakkale. Again, the bus station was outside of the town, so we jumped into a taxi and headed to the town centre.
We’re staying at the Helen Park Hotel, which is within walking distance of the ferry port and the promenade. Our first impression of Canakkale was how clean it was. Not a bit of litter to be seen on the ground anywhere. As a jumping-off point for Ancient Troy and also the Gallipoli battlefields great efforts seem to have been made to make a good impression.
I’ll be honest, we were pooped after that day of travel, so we only made a half-hearted attempt to walk along the very long promenade. We swung by the clock tower and then said hello to the huge Trojan horse at the harbour, which is very difficult to photograph at night with all the light pollution surrounding it. Here’s one taken in daylight. We sat and watched clusters of families sitting together on the edge of the harbour with fathers fishing and mothers making tea on small gas burners. Canakkale has a very nice feel to it, I’m going to like it here.
We just about had the energy to find a cafe where we had a much-needed cup of tea and some ice cream before hitting the hay.
