Moving on from the historical ruins of Troy, I was ready for a more architecturally impressive set of Roman ruins, so I headed down to Bergama and the ruins of Pergamum. Again the bus ride was quite scenic, leading down the coast, watching the rolling hills grow into small, rocky mountains and seeing the countryside morph into the classic Mediterranean coastal look with vineyards, grassy fields and forests of fig and light green olive trees covering the landscape. This region (Ayvalฤฑk) is also apparently known for their olive oil, similar to some of the finest olive oil produced in Italy, or so I am told. Fortuitously, I ordered a random toasted sandwich at a rest stop along the way and inadvertently received an excellent Turkish grilled cheese sandwich equivalent, so I think I'll have to remember that phrase for the future.
Drifting off to sleep, the bus attendant tapped me on the shoulder to let me know we had arrived to Bergama, so I hopped off the bus on to the side of the road, across the street from the bus station, still about 7 kilometers outside of town (as is the case for some Turkish bus stations). After talking with a pushy taxi driver for a while, I finally gave in and took his overpriced taxi into town, anxious to get to the ruins as it was getting later in the afternoon, and I wanted to get up to the site that same day. Once I got to my hostel, having paid about $15 for the taxi ride, my normally quiet, nice hostel owner went straight outside and reprimanded the taxi driver for overcharging me and letting him know that we wouldn't be needing his services anymore (he had "kindly" offered to take me to my next destination). So I walked down the road and found a better taxi to take me the five uphill kilometers to the top of the mountain overlooking the city, upon which sits the Acropolis, with sweeping views over the entire valley below. Again I found the site almost completely empty, allowing me to contemplate the long history and significance of the rows of tall columns and half gate that remained on top of the site.
During the time of Alexander the Great, Bergama was an important part of the Roman kingdom. As the city grew and changed rulers, the historical sites of the Acropolis and Asclepion (one of the most important ancient medical centers in the empire) were built and expanded, mostly in the years from around 300-150 BC. As always, the rich city eventually fell into a state of disrepair, coming back into prominence with the tourist industry. As I walked among the tall columns and piles of rubble, you could imagine how impressive these majestic structures must have looked, standing tall for all the city below to see. Below the main courtyard with the remains of a huge building surrounded by columns, I walked through the rows of arches supporting the hillside structure, revealing the inner workings and architecture of the time.
Just as impressive as the top of the hill is the theater, large enough for 10,000 people, carved into the steep hillside just below the site, still high above the city below. The very steep stairs led down to a small stage where speeches and performances must have been held, surrounded now by encroaching yellow grass and a few shrubs. Sitting on the steps, marvelling at the views of the city and countryside below, this truly impressive setting must have been magical during its heyday. A few minutes later, I heard some rustling in the dry grass next to me, and I looked over to see a reptile staring right back at me. After staring at each other for a moment, the slithering creature turned and sped away, sliding down the dry grass with amazing speed. I hesitate to call it a snake because I actually think it might have been a legless lizard (yes, those do exist) because something looked slightly different about the face and body shape of the animal. Either way, it sort of spooked me, as it seemed to give me a really strange, almost human expression before fleeing from me, reminding me of all the Biblical and mythological stories about influential serpents. Heading down to the bottom of the steep stairs, I was impressed by the views looking back upward, but I was also a little wary of all the movement I heard in the grass around me. Fortunately, I found five or six random turtles moving about in the dry grass, hissing at me and telling me to keep moving.
Just as I was contemplating leaving the site, nearing 7 in the evening, I heard a guard whistling at the four or five remaining visitors in the site, informing us that it was time to go. Not wanting to pay for a ride down the hill, I had read about a random trail down a dirt path around the side of the mountain, so I decided to try it out. I couldn't find the beginning, but I found what I believed to be the middle section, following an old cobbled path to a few more hidden ruins outside the gates and eventually leading to a small hole in the chain-link fence, putting me into a maze of narrow alleys sitting up on the top edge of town. As I negotiated the streets, I was delighted to see local children playing and old Turkish women with traditional dresses, colorful headscarves and wrinkles worn in by the harsh sun sitting on their front steps, looking strangely at me as I passed through an area that apparently doesn't get many outside visitors. I finally emerged to the main road, coming out right at the Red Basilica, another historic site in the town. This massive structure originally a giant temple to some Egyptian gods from the 2nd century which was then converted to a huge church with a huge podium in the middle where the preacher could appear to speak through a 30 foot high statue. St. John also called it one of the seven churches of the Apocalypse, saying it was the throne of the devil. Mostly worn down with huge walls of red brick remaining, local children climbed under the fences blocking entry inside and were playing hide and seek in what must be a really scary place to be after the sun sets.
After dark, I found a nice local place to eat, watching the two chefs next to me prepare the traditional Turkish pizza/pide in the fire oven, from stretching out the dough to shaping and baking the long, narrow creations. I opted for a nice plate of kofte, Turkish meatballs, along with some yogurt, pita type bread and a few random vegetables, creating a pretty tasty meal. The owners were also interested to hear where I was from and my thoughts on their small city. A few more of the local teenage workers joined in, curious to talk to me. I also ran into them the next morning as I was leaving, having to refuse an offer for some tea as I was in a hurry to catch the next bus, though I didn't know exactly how to do that. I was sure there had to be a minibus to the bus station outside of town, but I couldn't find where it would be. Eventually, I boarded a random minibus and asked the driver if he was going to the bus station. He smiled and waved me on, eventually dropping me off (out of his way) at the minibus station that offered free transfers to the larger bus station outside of town. Refusing any payment of mine, he just smiled and sent me on my way, in a way redeeming my impression of the workers in the city after my bad taxi experience.
(The mountaintop ruins of Pergamum, dating back just over 2,000 years, if my arithmetic is correct.)
(Just off to the side of the ruins is the 10,000 person capacity theater, situated on a steep hillside overlooking the town below.)
(Trying to add to the dramatic look of the Acropolis, I opted for some black and white and sepia pictures. Ooooohhhh, so dramatic.)
(As the afternoon came to an end, I was one of only a handful of people left at the ruins, often the only one in sight.)
(Just as with most of my trip, the weather was hot and dry, though not to the point of being uncomfortable. In the evenings, it was still fairly cool and pleasant.)
(Posing by the main ruins of the Acropolis. Later on, a Turkish guide explained to me that any site called an acropolis means that there is a burial ground there, though I was sort of doubtful, as it seems like I would have heard something that obvious before. Who knows.)
(An aerial view of the ruined site, where the central building used to sit in splendor, surrounded by a small courtyard and rows of columns.)
(A few more sepia pictures of the site. Ah, the nostalgia.)
(The setting sun passing through the stately columns. Classic.)
(A view of the extremely steep rows of the theater, with the hilltop ruins at the top of the picture. While sitting on the edge of these steps, I met a strange looking little serpent that sort of freaked me out, and then I found some less threatening turtles at the bottom, though they did still hiss at me.)
(After climbing down the front side of the mountain, I reached the Red Basilica. Apparently called one of the seven churches of the Apocalypse by St. John, it looked like a pretty great place to play hide and seek, as demonstrated by a group of local children.)
(The view of the hilltop Acropolis from the town below.)
(Two local chefs making Turkish pizza/pide by rolling out long, narrow strips of dough, covered with a bit of cheese and meat and then fired in the oven. This was my view from my streetside cafe.)
(My plate of kofte (Turkish meatballs) along with yogurt, tomatoes, onions, lettuce and some nice dry bread. I made a sort of sandwich/burrito out of the things, which worked out pretty well, though I never really know the local method of putting these things together.)
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