After the usual border formalities, I wander around looking for some transportation. A businessman buys me a cup of tea and suggests we share a taxi and the expenses of the ride. The ride seems expensive but to get stuck here in World’s End, Turkey seems worse, so I go.
The farmland we drive through shows feeble signs of spring. There are fertile looking valleys and steep, snowy mountains.
At the first village I transfer to a carryall vehicle bound for Gazientep. The highway passes across the middle of a plain flanked by rose and blue colored mountains dusted with snow. We pass through several cozy looking villages with clusters of stone cottages with earth roofs.
Colorful gangs of hardy countrymen and women are out working in the fields of snow and mud.
My fellow travelers try several languages on me but I don’t know any of them so we are reduced to smiles and hand signals.
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