🇹🇷 The Great Turkish Adventure: Part Four - Trabzone
So, our adventure kicked off after a marathon bus journey, dumping us at Trabzon Bus Terminal. Naturally, being the early birds, we headed straight for food. We found a little café with a lovely lady whose English was, shall we say, a work in progress. While munching away, we played detective with Google Lens, translating Turkish news headlines on TV. Who knew a news channel could be so intriguing when you have no idea what it's saying? (Fun Fact: Google Lens can translate text in real-time, which is basically magic for travelers in foreign lands!)
After fueling up, we rang up Ali from Copper House, Trabzon, hoping for an early check-in. He, bless his heart, said yes! We hopped into a taxi, which then dropped us off... at what looked suspiciously like a copper antique shop. "Uh oh," we thought, "did we book a room or a relic?" Just as confusion reached peak levels, Ali called, probably sensing our bewilderment. He invited us in, then proceeded to charm us by asking about India. To me, he was a dead ringer for the Hindi actor Rajkumar RaoРa compliment I happily dished out! His helper brought us tea, because when in Turkey, there's always tea. (Tea Trivia: Turkey is one of the largest tea consumers in the world. Seriously, they love their ̤ay!)
We couldn't help but ask about "Copper House," and Ali, with a twinkle in his eye, launched into its history. He even swung open a secret side door to reveal a treasure trove of handmade copper vessels, including a stunning frying pan. (Kitchen Knowledge: Copper pans are culinary royalty because copper is an amazing heat conductor – heats up fast and evenly, which is perfect for precise cooking. But here's the catch: pure copper can react with acidic foods, so they're almost always lined with tin or stainless steel. Don't go cooking your tomato sauce in an unlined copper pot unless you want some metallic-tasting drama!) We spied a smaller pan on the wall and asked about it, but alas, it was part of his personal collection – not for sale!
Ali's house was right opposite the shop, and we quickly saw why reviews raved about his kindness. When we needed a copper pan, he didn't try to upsell us from his own shop, but offered to take us to a nearby bazaar for a good deal. Zero pressure, pure helpfulness – a true gem in a world full of tourist traps!
Our room was like a mini-apartment, accessed through a main door with a top-secret four-digit code. Up a flight of stairs, our door was the first one, revealing a cozy space with a living area, a separate bedroom, a toilet, and even a balcony. It felt less like a hotel and more like our own secret hideaway.
First mission in Trabzon: Sumela Monastery! But, like all good plans, ours hit a snag. It was already afternoon, and the monastery closes at 4:30 pm. So much for leisurely sightseeing! We thought we'd bus it close, then taxi the rest of the way. Our app led us to a bus stop near a walkover bridge, and holy crowded commuters, Batman! It was a sea of people. We waited 30 minutes for our bus, only for it to arrive bursting at the seams. Forget boarding; we couldn't even see the door!
We quickly clocked that everyone was scanning transport cards. Paying cash looked like a wrestling match with the driver and a change-counting challenge, which was a definite no-go in that mob. So, off to find a card! We spotted a small shop behind the bus stop where people were recharging. The lady there didn't speak English, but her smile was universal. With Google Translate as our wingman, we explained our Sumela mission (and return!). She told us one card could work for four people (score!) and quickly topped it up. (Travel Tip: Always try to get a local transport card in big cities – it's usually cheaper and way less hassle than cash!)
On the next bus, we tracked our journey like hawk-eyed cartographers until we reached Maçka. From there, I, the fearless leader, found a taxi stand. "Sumela!" I declared to an elderly man, adding dramatic hand gestures. He pointed to a partly bald man by a taxi. We approached, and cue the calculator! No English, but his fingers did the talking: 400 Lira for a one-way trip. Seemed fair, so off we went, me in the front seat, feeling like a local.
By the time we neared the monastery, it was already 3:30 pm. I used Google Translate again: "Can you wait?" He happily agreed, probably relieved he wouldn't be driving back empty or hunting for another fare. (Driver Dilemma: Taxi drivers often prefer waiting if it means a guaranteed return fare, especially in remote areas.)
Knowing the epic climb ahead, I sprinted to buy tickets. At the top, a queue stretched to eternity. "Nope," I thought, "not enough time!" A quick video and photo as "proof of presence" and I was done.
Meanwhile, my wife and her parents were still huffing and puffing their way up. A quick video call, a panoramic view of Sumela, and the grim news: "Too long a queue, folks! And we're cutting it close for the last bus, plus our taxi driver's waiting!" Tired and pragmatic, they wisely decided to retreat.
I hot-footed it back down, met them, and we returned to our taxi driver, who was chilling with his buddies at a nearby shop. Through gestures, he asked why we didn't go in. "Elders tired," I explained, "pictures good enough!" He put his hand to his head, a universal "Then why did you even come?" gesture. Classic!
My wife then remembered the iconic Sumela view from a hairpin bend on the descent. I somehow conveyed this to our driver. He drove past the spot initially, stopping too far ahead for a good shot. A quick reference photo from the internet, and he got it. He reversed, parked perfectly, and even stepped out to give us space for family photos. What a legend!
Then came the "Can we take a picture with you?" request, and his face lit up.
He dropped us back where he'd found us. We gave him a generous tip, and then, the moment of truth: a Turkish hug! I'd seen it in videos – a warm embrace with gentle head taps. He happily bestowed it upon us. What a guy! (Cultural Nod: These warm, often playful, forms of greeting are a wonderful part of Turkish hospitality.)
Post-Sumela, we grabbed some food and navigated the maze of bus stops. Our app pointed one way, but a young girl pointed to a distant clock tower. Confused, we walked to the clock tower. An old man walking past us? We asked him, and he pointed back to the girl's original spot! Total mind warp. He then escorted us back to the first stop. The girl and the old man had a rapid-fire Turkish chat, followed by a profound silence. The girl wouldn't look at us, but clearly wanted to say something. The old man, however, was a talkative one, especially when he learned we were Indian. He proudly declared he was Egyptian! My father-in-law, mumbled something in Arabic, which delighted him further. "Bus will come here," he insisted, "just wave your hand!" And lo and behold, he was right. The bus stopped at the clock tower first (the girl was right!), then pulled up right in front of us when we flagged it down. By then, the girl had vanished into a big van. Sometimes local knowledge trumps technology, and a little human interaction goes a long way!
We piled onto the bus, snagging some seats at the back. I, unfortunately, had to stand for a bit. The back of the bus was a convention of senior citizens – 80-somethings with walking sticks and spectacles. A young girl, probably a granddaughter, sat among them. Soon, a seat opened near the backdoor, putting me face-to-face with these seasoned travelers.
Then, the "colorful character" arrived: a seemingly drunk or eccentric old man. He wobbled up to my father-in-law, asked his country, and upon learning he was Indian, beamed. Then came the bombshell: "I don't like Jews... if Jews were here, I'd throw them out of the bus!" He rambled on, even wanting to hug my father-in-law for being Indian. My father-in-law, a master of diplomacy, simply offered a polite "Mm...mmm...mm." The man eventually joined the other elders, chatting away like old friends, all in Turkish. (Cultural Clash: You meet all sorts on public transport! Sometimes you encounter views that are shocking or uncomfortable, and navigating them with grace is key.)
Meanwhile, I offered my seat to another elderly man who boarded. He was genuinely moved, trying to smile through his pain as he sat. He spoke to me in Turkish, but my "no Turkish" with Google Translate just made him talk more Turkish. I resorted to nodding and smiling – the universal language of "I understand absolutely nothing, but I appreciate your effort!" All the back-seat seniors had been watching us, the "different looking" people. After the drunkard joined them, we heard the word "Hindustan" pop up. I felt a surge of responsibility to represent India well. So, I gave them all my biggest, friendliest smile. And bam! – they all smiled back! It felt like a scene from that Malayalam movie, Sreekrishnapurathe Nakshathrathilakkam, where Yamunarani waves to her neighbors and they all excitedly wave back.
Fun discovery: People in Turkey call India "Hindustan"! We saw it on our e-visa and everything. Mind = slightly blown.
Soon, they started asking about the "India-Pakistan problem." My go-to peace treaty explanation was ready: "Government, government – DISHOOM!" (with clutched fists bumping), "People, people – friends!" (with both hands shaking). They understood! "Ahaaa!" they exclaimed. After that, I mostly focused on my phone, my Turkish vocabulary limited to "su" (water), "teÅŸekkürler" (thank you), and "merhaba" (hello).
We eventually got off the bus near Copper House, just as a traffic block coincided with rain. Deciding to make the most of it, we ducked into a plant shop and bought two plants for 50 Turkish Lira each. Random, but delightful! My wife messaged Ali, booking us a guided tour to Uzungol for the next day. Another adventure awaits! (Souvenir Suggestion: Who needs a fridge magnet when you can have a live plant from your travels? A truly green souvenir!)
Our second full day in Trabzon started with me being sent on a breakfast run. I walked to a small local food centre. Inside, a lovely lady in traditional Turkish Muslim attire (modest layers and a graceful headscarf – called a başörtüsü or tesettür, which means "covering" in Turkish, a style that's been around for centuries, evolving from Ottoman fashion) was behind the counter, flanked by two others. My Google Translate, now my trusty travel companion, whirred to life. I made it "speak" my lentil soup request. Success! A steaming bowl of goodness appeared. But for the other dish I wanted, she warned, "will take time."
Then came the inevitable question, the one every traveler with a slightly "different" look gets: "Where are you from?" I proudly declared "Hindustani!" And just like that, their faces lit up. Hands were extended, smiles were abundant – it was like I'd just announced I was the long-lost heir to a kebab empire. Of course, the follow-up was just as predictable: "India-Pakistan war?" My tried-and-tested diplomatic dance ensued: "Government, government – DISHOOM!" (fists colliding), "People, people – friends!" (hands shaking). They nodded sagely, "Ahaaa."
I then used my pocket translator to explain that my tour guide was arriving at 9 am, and sadly, I couldn't wait for the second dish. They smiled, understanding, and we bid our goodbyes, a chorus of "güle güle" echoing as I left. Mission partially accomplished! A quick detour to a nearby supermarket yielded bread, jam, and fruits – a solid Plan B for breakfast. (Turkish Soup Secrets: Soup, or çorba, is a HUGE deal in Turkey! It's often eaten for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Lentil soup (mercimek çorbası) is a classic, hearty start to any day, a tradition stretching back to Ottoman times where it was a staple.)
At sharp 9 AM we went down to meet our guide. First problem: we forgot to withdraw cash, and had no money to pay him for the tour. Instead of making us run around looking for an ATM, he took us to his tiny office nearby so we could pay by card. We awarded him 1 whole point for this. This was the only point he earned for the entire tour.
We walked to the tour van, met the driver, and the guide told us our itinerary for the day. After that? He decided he was done talking forever. This man had the energy level of a dead wifi router. We got more information from random road signs than we got from him. The only details he shared was that our first stop was a tea factory, we get free tea, and there would be a traditional dance performance.
90% of all tea consumed in entire Turkey is grown in the Black Sea provinces of Trabzon and Rize. This tea factory stop is a standard part of almost all Uzungol group tours, you cannot escape it, and you should not want to.
On the way to the tea factory, two more passengers got into the van: a local Turkish lady, and a young Russian solo traveller. We chatted for a bit, and found a very funny coincidence: she had a 7 AM flight from Trabzon to Istanbul the next day. We also had a 7 AM flight to Istanbul at the exact same time. We almost made plans to meet at the airport, but we all knew we would be too sleepy to recognize each other.
We reached the tea factory.Three ladies welcomed us with Horon, the traditional folk dance of the Black Sea region! It has super fast, coordinated foot steps, and is usually performed to music from a small string instrument called a kemenche.
We got served freshly brewed black tea, walked around their souvenir shop for 5 minutes, and exactly 15 minutes after we arrived, we were told to get back in the van. I have spent more time waiting in line to buy samosas.
Next stop was a local sweet shop. We already had traumatic experiences of overpriced, stale tourist trap sweet shops in Cappadocia, so me and my father in law made a silent mutual agreement to stay outside. My wife and her mother went in to look around.
Two very sweet young boys working at the shop came out to invite us in. We politely declined, and told them two of our family members are already inside. They asked our country, and tried to talk to us in whatever English they had learned. When we asked where they are from, they said Syria, and you could see a small, quiet sadness on their faces immediately.
We told them we'd heard about their country and quickly pivoted to its ancient history, its vibrant culture, the incredible hospitality of its people, and the resilience that has always defined it. Their eyes brightened a little. (Sweet Syrian History: Syria boasts an incredibly rich history, home to some of the oldest civilizations. Its capital, Damascus, is considered one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world, renowned for its crafts, spices, and, yes, delicious sweets like baklava and kunafa, which have influenced Turkish cuisine for centuries.)
Then we got back in the van and headed to the main event: Uzungol!
Uzungol literally translates to Long Lake, and it is not man made! It was formed thousands of years ago when a massive landslide blocked the valley river. All the instagram photos you see of it do not do it justice.
Well, it would have been very pretty, if it was not raining so hard the moment we stepped out of the van. The guide pointed at a meeting point, told us we had exactly 2 hours to explore, and then vanished, leaving us to get rained on.
We first ran to take shelter. To kill time we tried the toy gun shooting stall by the roadand then we walked to the very famous Uzungol Ada Restaurant. 10/10 food, super clean, and the staff were so nice they literally pulled back the huge glass curtains facing the lake just so we could take perfect photos, and pulled them back closed right after so we did not get cold from the rain. 10 out of 5 stars for customer service.
Right as we finished eating, the van came back to pick us up. Our next stop was the historic Hapsiyaş Bridge, also known as Kiremitli Köprü / Tiled Bridge in Çaykara district.
This beautiful wooden bridge is over 300 years old, built during the Ottoman era, and most of its terracotta roof tiles are still the original ones installed hundreds of years ago. The violently fast river flowing right under it is the Fırtına River - which literally translates to Storm River. The name could not be more accurate, it was flowing so hard we felt like the old bridge would wobble if too many people stood on the same side. We took our photos as fast as we could and ran back to the van, we did not want to test the load bearing capacity of a 300 year old wooden bridge.
The tour ended after that, and the van dropped us right back near Copper House. But we were not done exploring for the day!
First we went to the famous Japon Pazari, also known as the Japanese Bazaar.
It does not sell Japanese products at all! It got its name because when it was first built, it had Japanese style landscaping and walking paths. The number one thing all tourists buy here is Turkish delight, also called lokum.
Lokum was invented in Istanbul in the 1700s during the Ottoman Empire. It is made of starchy jelly, usually flavoured with rose, pistachio or lemon, and always dusted with powdered sugar so it does not stick. I will say this loud for the people in the back: it is nice, but it will never, ever be half as good as Kozhikkodan halwa. No debate. We bought a few boxes to give as gifts to relatives back home, as all tourists are legally required to do.
After the bazaar we walked to Ganita Sahil Park which is a beautiful beach side park built on land reclaimed from the Black Sea! It has walking tracks, small cafes, playgrounds, and it is the best spot in the city to watch sunsets over the sea. Most local families come here for weekend picnics.
And just like that, our last full day in Trabzon was over.
We had a 8 AM flight the next morning, so we asked Ali to book a taxi for us, he said it was no problem.
Now comes the part of every vacation that is always chaotic: the airport run.
We woke up at 5 AM, packed all our luggage (including our copper pan, two potted plants, and multiple boxes of turkish delight), and waited for the taxi. The airport is only a 15 minute drive from Copper House, so we had plenty of time.
10 minutes passed. 15 minutes passed. No taxi.
We did not want to wake Ali up so early, and we did not have the driver's phone number. So we did what any sensible people with a flight to catch would do: we picked up all our heavy bags, and started walking towards the taxi stand in the direction the taxi was supposed to come from.
We walked around 500 metres, our arms already hurting. And right at the stand, we saw a taxi driver who saw us, and made the most dramatic "OH MY GOD I FORGOT I HAD TO PICK PEOPLE UP!" face. This man had 100% forgotten our booking. When we mentioned Ali's name, he immediately remembered, and tried to make up a very obvious lie about traffic. My brother in christ, it is 5:30 AM in Trabzon. The only thing on the road at this hour is stray cows. We did not have the energy to be mad, we were just happy we did not have to walk all the way to the airport.
Trabzon Airport is one of the most famous seaside airports in the world! There is only a thin concrete wall separating the end of the runway from the Black Sea. I had already spotted the airport from far away when we were driving to Uzungol, and I was low key terrified of how short the runway is. Pilots who regularly land here definitely deserve a 50% salary raise.
First thing we did when we entered was the first security check. We took off our belts, took out all our laptops and power banks, put everything in trays, went through the scanner, collected all our stuff, put our shoes back on, and thought we were done with security for good. But we noticed there was another exact same full security check counter deeper inside the airport. We were confused, and assumed it was for international flights so we did not need to go through it.
Our flight was with Pegasus Airlines, for those who don't know, Pegasus is Turkey's most popular low cost airline, if you ever get a super cheap domestic flight in Turkey, 9 out of 10 times it is Pegasus.
We could not find our flight details on the ground floor displays, so we went up to the first floor, sat down with all our luggage, and the entire area was so empty we thought we had come to the airport a day early.
After half an hour of waiting, the display finally updated, and told us our boarding gate was on the ground floor. We dragged all our luggage back down, and guess what was waiting for us right before the gate area? The second security check.
I had very neatly put my power bank back inside my bag, fastened my belt, and tied my shoe laces properly. The universe decided I needed to do all of that all over again for practice. We went through the entire process a second time .
We finally cleared both security checks, sat down to wait for the boarding announcement. When they announced boarding had started, we scanned our boarding passes, and started walking across the tarmac towards our plane.
...to be continued.
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