What we can learn from the Turkish

Having been firmly planted back into normality for almost 2 months, it seems now is the perfect time for my belated thoughts on our travels in Turkey. Was it what I expected? No. Would I go back in a heartbeat? YES. 

Reluctant as I am to make comparisons with my travels in India, I am going to push forward and do it anyway. Thus, India was most definitely the country of the train. If you've ever fancied yourself as a bit of a James Bond, the sight of hundreds of Indians running towards a moving train and clambering on-board will make those previous expectations of oneself pale in comparison. Anywhere is a seat in India, the roof of a train included. When unwilling to pay much, they are hot and smelly and crowded, but if a little extra dollah is outlayed, a 20-hour night train is almost unpleasant. Two loos in each carriage to choose from (depending on if sitting down or standing up when pooping is preferred), a service including  the ordering of hot meals to be delivered at the next station, and provided clean sheets and blankets for those long overnight journeys, all contribute to a rather fancy railway system. 

Encouraged by this, we set out into Turkey with the train as our preferred mode of transport. Then we looked on the map. There were very few railways detailed. There were sighs and a sauntering off to the nearest pharmacy to stock up on travel sickness tablets. 

However, Turkey proved the old saying that 'you don't need something if there's something else much better'. Buses were cheap, far-reaching and at generally amicable times. There was always a lunch-stop, even if the bus had only been going for an hour. They were almost always on time, apart from when the bus broke down and waited on a country road for a man to deliver the parts by motorbike. Snacks and water from the bus-waiter were free, including tubs and tubs and tubs of ice cream (at the beginning of the journey since the buses do not have fridges). On the back of every seat was a television which came with headphones and somewhere to charge electronics. Buses were never full, apart from when we took a 'dolmus' -  tiny, rickety minivans which stop regularly to pick up roadside wayfarers. We weren't sure if this was actually a legal service offered by the bus companies, but the bus-waiter seemed happy collecting ticket money from these guys. 

And with the mention of tickets, I come to number 2 of 'What we can learn from the Turkish' (and also Indians). Every tourist destination we arrived at proffered long, complicated price lists. There were museum cards and Istanbul Cards and just normal prices, too. But the stand-out thing was that if you were Turkish, entry into Pamukkale salt fields or Topkapi Palace in Istanbul or for a hot air balloon ride in Capadocia was much, much cheaper. It was the same in India, too, with the Taj Mahal becoming invitingly cheap if Indian nationality was held. This led us to a rather heated debate in relation to the question of: if this was done in the UK, would more people be interested in visiting National Trust houses or top tourist attractions? Although it is excellent that our museums and art galleries are always free, there are a lot of extremely expensive cultural attractions which are unaffordable for many. 

We got on a coach, it got on a bus 

So, what can we learn from the Turkish? Back in the UK, I am now open to taking the coach for long-distance journeys, having spent 10+ hours with ample leg room and without the worry of someone having stolen my bag (I experience this every time I set foot on a train). For me to rely only on coaches, though, I would need the UK's bus companies to step up their game and improve their service and vehicles. Discounted tickets for non-tourists, however, would make attractions much more accessible.