Memoir

Stepping Up

Stepping Up

I began this trip by describing our journey to the center of the earth, which I described as the Steppes of Central Asia. Well, today we said goodbye to the Mediterranean Sea and rode over the Taurus Mountains to the Anatolian Plateau or Plain, what we can reasonably describe as the Westernmost Steppes of Asia Minor. Specifically, we have entered the Konya Ovasi Basin, what those in the Western U.S. would call the high desert. Water and vegetation are all around, but less lush and more sparse. It is 10 degrees cooler up here than down by the Sea and that, combined with the lower humidity probably made it a better, more comfortable place to live back in the day.

Today we started our ride by going to Aspendos, the best-preserved Roman Theater in the world. That is one helluva claim until you see it. It is an amazingly well-preserved structure that could easily still be used to put on a show. An Asian man thought that was his mission for the day so he belted out an Italian operatic aria for all the Russian and motorcycling tourists in attendance. It was built during the reign of Marcus Aurelius, so it is almost two millennia old. It has stayed so well preserved because during the era of the Silk Road, this was repurposed as a caravanserai or camel-hotel rest station and inn for weary travelers. Apparently, that was enough to justify some entrepreneurial sort keeping the theater in good repair so that it is in the great shape it is today. I am fascinated by tales of the Silk Road and am envious of Roger Hansen having ridden that route from Istanbul to China. I am not altogether sure why this era of history pushes my buttons so much, but I’m sure it has to do with the romantic lack of full knowledge about it. It has left me reading about Marco Polo and Genghis Kahn to fill in what I can.

I am particularly intrigued by the connection with the Arthurian Legend and this part of the world. While the truth around these legends remains illusive, there is one theory that the Arthurian knights were all young recruits gathered in Anatolia among the aggressive and war-like Seljuk Turks that inhabited the steppes of Anatolia (perhaps around Konya). These brave warriors were taken from their families as tribute to the Romans, who had overtaken the Byzantine Empire under Constantine. Arthur was a young and noble Roman Legionnaire of high birth who was given the challenge of defending a wild and not-yet unified England against the marauding Saxons from the north. He and his “knights”, as he called his warriors, were trained and ready for battle and to salvage the interests of Rome in this distant and cold land. The dates of Arthurian presence and its central castle at Camelot line up between the dates of the Roman conquest of Byzantium and the Norman conquest of Britain, so it all hangs together on the timeline.

As we travel through the Roman ruins, which are so prevalent in Turkey (Anatolia), we see names like Hadrian like at Hadrian’s Gate in Antalya and wonder about the connection with Hadrian’s Wall, the fortification stretching for 75 miles across northern England. The thought that all of this got connected with a warrior exchange is fascinating and links this part of the world to Western Civilization in meaningful ways. These steppes are a huge part of our collective heritage and I “feel” this as we drive through the barren landscape.

So, we headed north and rode up over another fine new road over the Taurus Mountains. The road from Antalya to Konya is not a tourist track. In fact, I think it is fair to say that it is off the beaten path, any yet the road was excellent. I am told that infrastructure and all that comes with it is a priority to the current Turkish administration. It worked for us.

Then, after coming down the back side of the Taurus, we suddenly found ourselves in those steppes we’ve been talking about. We rode in and amongst them for one hundred miles or so until we got to Konya. As we closed in on the city, it became clear that we were moving into much more serious Islamic territory. Turkey has 85 million citizens and about 85,000 mosques. That’s about 1,000 or so citizens per mosque. There is a noticeable increase in our mosque sightings as we close in on Konya. They are easy to spot with their domes and minarets. Konya has 1.3 million population and 3,511 mosques. That means there’s a mosque for every 370 people. That’s a pretty good sign that we are in a much more traditional Islamic community.

We are staying in the center of town directly across from the main mosque which is adjacent to the most visited attraction in Turkey. It is the mosque where the Tomb and remains of a mystic named Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī, also known as Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Balkhī, Mevlânâ/Mawlānā, Mevlevî/Mawlawī, and more popularly simply as Rumi, can be found. He was a 13th-century Persian poet, fIslamic scholar, and Sufi mystic who has been a spiritual leader for many Muslims.

We toured his mosque and paid our respects before heading to dinner just beyond the mosque. Minutes later the evening call to prayer began as loudly as I’ve ever heard it. Louder even than in Jeddah or other religious centers in Saudi Arabia. I took this as further evidence of the seriousness of the faithful. Maybe it was our location so close to the minaret or maybe it was the spiritual fervor that has followed Rumi for over 700 years.

I bet Arthur and Rumi would have been pals. They both adhered to high ideals and they both left their mark on our consciousness and on the steppes of Anatolia.