From Giresun, there are hourly buses to Trabzon. I had been thinking for a while whether I should stay overnight in Trabzon and visit the Sumela Monastery, and continue my journey towards Kars via Erzurum, or if I by-pass Trabzon, and head straight to the lush green valleys of Rize and the Kackar Mountains.
I was not particularly in favour of staying overnight at Trabzon, in part because of the lack of reasonably priced hotel accommodations suitable for a lone traveller. After the fall of the Soviet Union, many women from across the border entered Turkey and engage in trade as well as part-time prostitution. Nowadays Trabzon has become infamous as Black Sea's capital of human trafficking and prostitution. To cater for the growing demand for hourly rental, many small hotels now function as unofficial brothels. Numerous unregulated cheap hotels and 'guest houses' also sprung up all over Trabzon's inner city. It has become increasingly difficult for ordinary visitors to find a decent hotel at affordable prices: notable hotels which refuse entry to prostitutes charge more than 70 Euro a night for a room without breakfast.
After some deliberation, I decided to travel by bus straight to Hopa, right next to Turkey's border with Georgia. The bus from Giresun to Hopa also stop enroute at Trabzon, Rize and several other small towns on the coast. As the bus drove into the centre of Trabzon, I was great I did not choose to stay overnight there, as the whole city centre is a bustling place full of seedy-looking make-shift cheap hotels with tightly closed windowns and very narrow entrance. Some even have pictures of scantily-clad Russian women on the door. It is obvious what these places are up to.
After leaving Trabzon, the view opens up again to gentle sloping hills on one side and blue open sea on the other. The region between Trabzon and Rize is the tea country of Turkey. Tea planations line the hills of the valleys, while almost every town en route has a Caykur tea processing factory. The Turks love their tea, while tea grown in the province of Rize is prized for its deep amber colour and smooth, aromatic taste.
When the bus finally arrived at Hopa, it was already dark and I was disappointed by the sight of the town before me. The whole place was a big construction site, with new highways being built and half-completed ugly concrete blocks springing up all over the place. And the air was dusty and smells of engine oil. Immediately I dropped the idea of staying overnight in Hopa. The whole place looks and feels like a border-town-in-transition, as the population has increased almost ten-fold in the previous few years, following the re-opening of the border cross to Batumi, Georgia's most important harbour and an important shipping centre on the Eastern Black Sea coast. The rapid increase in cross-border trade between Hopa and Batumi is evident in the long line of trucks waiting up at the side of the highway leading to the border checkpoint. Sometimes the wait for customs clearance could take several days, even weeks.
I have nothing against border towns, but Hopa feels seedy. The few hotels available in the town either look outright like unofficial brothels, or they look so hastily built of the cheapest materials possible, without proper fire-resistant materials or safety installations.
As it was already dark outside, I decided to take the last bus to Artvin. The scenery en route was supposedly to be very impressive, as the bus ascended up the Kackar Mountains with beautiful green valleys, dense forests, fast-flowing rivers and steep cliffs. But in the night, one could see nothing except for the occasional houses and huts at the side of the road. It was complete darkness, and as the bus began to enter the Kackar Mountains along a windy road built alongside the Coruh River, the air suddenly became much cooler and lighter, in contrast to the dense, slightly salty air along the coast.
After approximately an hour, the bus arrived at Borcka, a town with a lake popular as a weekend excursion destination among the locals. The Coruh River was dammed up at Borcka and a huge hydroelectric power plant was built there. After Borcka, the bus ascended once more up more windy, unlit roads accompanied by the sound of the fast-flowin Coruh River, known as 'Turkey's last-remaining wild river' by those who are interested in white-water rafting and kayaking.
Finally, after another hour or so, the lights of the city of Artvin began to appear high up the steep hills. To be honest, I did not know that the city of Artvin is situated so high up the mountain sides - I had thought it was located somewhere lower, near the bridge across the Coruh down in the river valley. As the bus winds its way up the steep mountain road leading up to Artvin's town centre, I tried to look out and see if I could see some sign boards of hotels along the road. Since I did not anticipate arriving at Artvin so late in the night, I did not prepare a list of available Artvin hotels beforehand.
When the bus driver asked me where I would like to go in Artvin, I told hime the name of a random hotel (Karahan Otel) I saw on one of the roadside advertising billboards. This turned out to be a stupid decision. As soon as I saw the front entrance of that place, I knew it was not the right place to find onself at in the night. A tired-looking woman with heavy make-up and not much little clothing sat at the door, smoking and talking on her mobile phone. Immediately I turned back and walk out of the building, wondering what kind of town Artvin is. Not another Trabzon, I hope.
To make things more complicated, right opposite the seedy hotel are another three or four much seedier and highly suspicious-looking (as well as sounding) hotels. One of them even has the photos of several blond women in various states of undress up on the front entrance. In spite of these hotels located just right next to the local police station, they just don't look or feel right.
At that point I began to panic somewhat. What happens if there are no decent family hotels in Artvin? It was well after 8pm and the last bus of the day to anywhere had probably already left by then. Where can I find a decent and clean place to stay? I was even ready to pay whatever it would cost to get me a room at a normal hotel that night. And I will run away from Artvin the first thing next morning, with the first bus.
Then it dawned on me that I can ask around for locals' recommendation of decent family hotels. I had done this several times and on each occasion, friendly locals have always helped me find some good accommodations at very reasonable prices. So I walked into the office of a bus agency and ask the guys in charge for help. Despite me speaking very limited Turkish and they spoke almost no English, the two friendly staffs soon understood what I was trying to say, and directed me to a decent family hotel by the name of Otel Sadikoglu, located in an apartment building behind Artvin's Town Hall, ran by a nice old gentleman.
The rooms of Otel Sadikoglu are clean and all have TV, en-suite bathroom and free wireless internet. The owner will happily help you with onward bus ticket resevations. So, thanks to the staffs at the bus agency, I finally found a safe place to stay in Artvin.
(Later I read a review of Karahan Hotel by an American traveller on Tripadvisors, and all I can say is I am so glad I turned away from that rat hole of a place immediately and did not pay 20TL to be put up in a dark, smelly and dirty room).
Copyrights@2010. All Rights Reserved. All photos and text by YC Cheng.
I have nothing against border towns, but Hopa feels seedy. The few hotels available in the town either look outright like unofficial brothels, or they look so hastily built of the cheapest materials possible, without proper fire-resistant materials or safety installations.
As it was already dark outside, I decided to take the last bus to Artvin. The scenery en route was supposedly to be very impressive, as the bus ascended up the Kackar Mountains with beautiful green valleys, dense forests, fast-flowing rivers and steep cliffs. But in the night, one could see nothing except for the occasional houses and huts at the side of the road. It was complete darkness, and as the bus began to enter the Kackar Mountains along a windy road built alongside the Coruh River, the air suddenly became much cooler and lighter, in contrast to the dense, slightly salty air along the coast.
After approximately an hour, the bus arrived at Borcka, a town with a lake popular as a weekend excursion destination among the locals. The Coruh River was dammed up at Borcka and a huge hydroelectric power plant was built there. After Borcka, the bus ascended once more up more windy, unlit roads accompanied by the sound of the fast-flowin Coruh River, known as 'Turkey's last-remaining wild river' by those who are interested in white-water rafting and kayaking.
Finally, after another hour or so, the lights of the city of Artvin began to appear high up the steep hills. To be honest, I did not know that the city of Artvin is situated so high up the mountain sides - I had thought it was located somewhere lower, near the bridge across the Coruh down in the river valley. As the bus winds its way up the steep mountain road leading up to Artvin's town centre, I tried to look out and see if I could see some sign boards of hotels along the road. Since I did not anticipate arriving at Artvin so late in the night, I did not prepare a list of available Artvin hotels beforehand.
When the bus driver asked me where I would like to go in Artvin, I told hime the name of a random hotel (Karahan Otel) I saw on one of the roadside advertising billboards. This turned out to be a stupid decision. As soon as I saw the front entrance of that place, I knew it was not the right place to find onself at in the night. A tired-looking woman with heavy make-up and not much little clothing sat at the door, smoking and talking on her mobile phone. Immediately I turned back and walk out of the building, wondering what kind of town Artvin is. Not another Trabzon, I hope.
To make things more complicated, right opposite the seedy hotel are another three or four much seedier and highly suspicious-looking (as well as sounding) hotels. One of them even has the photos of several blond women in various states of undress up on the front entrance. In spite of these hotels located just right next to the local police station, they just don't look or feel right.
At that point I began to panic somewhat. What happens if there are no decent family hotels in Artvin? It was well after 8pm and the last bus of the day to anywhere had probably already left by then. Where can I find a decent and clean place to stay? I was even ready to pay whatever it would cost to get me a room at a normal hotel that night. And I will run away from Artvin the first thing next morning, with the first bus.
Then it dawned on me that I can ask around for locals' recommendation of decent family hotels. I had done this several times and on each occasion, friendly locals have always helped me find some good accommodations at very reasonable prices. So I walked into the office of a bus agency and ask the guys in charge for help. Despite me speaking very limited Turkish and they spoke almost no English, the two friendly staffs soon understood what I was trying to say, and directed me to a decent family hotel by the name of Otel Sadikoglu, located in an apartment building behind Artvin's Town Hall, ran by a nice old gentleman.
The rooms of Otel Sadikoglu are clean and all have TV, en-suite bathroom and free wireless internet. The owner will happily help you with onward bus ticket resevations. So, thanks to the staffs at the bus agency, I finally found a safe place to stay in Artvin.
(Later I read a review of Karahan Hotel by an American traveller on Tripadvisors, and all I can say is I am so glad I turned away from that rat hole of a place immediately and did not pay 20TL to be put up in a dark, smelly and dirty room).
Copyrights@2010. All Rights Reserved. All photos and text by YC Cheng.
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