Full set of Safranbolu photos here
The small town of Safranbolu, huddled in a valley and surrounded by snow-topped mountains, looks like it has not changed since the Ottoman empire collapsed. Unlike much of Turkey, where the pressure of population growth has seen bland concrete apartments constructed, Safronbolu has managed to retain its original charm despite still being both lived in and a popular tourist destination – although it’s possible we would revise our opinion if we visited in the height of summer. The houses look like they’re fresh from the pages of a fairy tale. Even our hotel felt like it should be a living museum with its amazing carved wooden ceiling, bench seats covered with Turkish carpets and a view of the mosque outside the window through the blossom buds. In fact, there was a museum two doors down from the hotel showing how people lived in Ottoman houses and I think our hotel looked very similar.
There’s not much to occupy you in Safranbolu other than looking at the architecture, eating saffron infused sweets and walking the streets – it was delightful. Later we came across a Turkish film production, a period piece taking advantage of this frozen-in-time location. They helpfully pointed out the way to the restaurant we wanted to try where it felt like we were being served by Grandma who showed us what was in her pots on top of the stove, and we pointed at what we liked the look of. Sarah then subjected herself to a hammam, the Turkish bathhouse, which I refuse to enter for fear of permanent injury in a sudsy wrestling match. Sarah managed ok (they go easier on the women) and just had another stout Grandma type in her undies and bra cover her in suds and rub her all over. It’s not an erotic picture but warmed her up at least.
The call to prayer in the morning was piercing. It shattered the pre-dawn calm and sounded like it went echoing off down the valley, although it is just as likely that this was other mosques in the area a beat or two behind. At the end of every call here there was a couple of loud beeps which must have been the microphone being turned off, but it sounded like the muezzins were hanging up on their direct line to god. As a special treat we recorded the call to prayer so that you can relive what we heard five times a day throughout our time in Turkey. We love it.
Recent Comments