Dillon Crosilla 2016-10-20 04:58:29
TURKISH TREATS FROM ISTANBUL TO KARTALKAYA
It was the last day of 2015, and the minarets of Ottoman-era mosques stood sentinel over an Istanbul downtown core plastered with snow. A foot deep in places, it was the heaviest snowfall the ancient coastal city had seen in decades. Turkey’s a country more famous for its rich culture, white-sand beaches and sugary baklava than its urban snowboarding potential. It’s a country caught somewhere between the Occident and the Orient, Christianity and Islam, and ancient and contemporary culture. It was there that I welcomed the New Year in Taksim Square, the heart of modern Istanbul, with a group of guys from India who had never seen snow, slipping and sliding around the seventh largest city in the world.
A video project called Loose Change had brought me to Istanbul. Led by Niels Schack and Sparrow Knox, longtime friends from France and England respectively, this was the first stop on a shoestring tour of lesser-traveled snowboard destinations within striking distance of Western Europe. They arrived on New Year’s Day, still awake from the night’s festivities back home, alongside filmer Alex Weir. It was the start of an extended trip through the country, one in which we would travel nearly 1,500 miles, during which a terrorist attack in Istanbul killed 10 German tourists, though we always felt safe and welcome. Despite an international travel warning and the threat of unstable borders with Syria, Iraq and Iran, the people of Turkey brought us in with open arms.
WE AWOKE TO a warm afternoon on Jan. 2 with snow still in the streets. Niels and Sparrow pulled out their boards and began exploring a city of contrasts. Home to 14 million people, Istanbul’s history dates back to 660 B.C., when it was founded as Byzantium. Then, in 330 B.C., it became Constantinople, an imperial capital through Byzantine and Roman rule, followed by nearly 500 years of the Ottoman empire. A trade-route hub, the city was home to a wide variety of travelers, traders, movers and shakers from the Mediterranean to the Black Sea, Europe to Asia. It’s a crossroads of culture and conflict with a colorful past.
But Istanbul is now a modern, cosmopolitan city in many ways. In a steep park full of trees and locals playing with their dogs, we met a group of kids having a blast in the rare snow. They watched from a distance, so we approached and asked if they wanted to try our boards. Once the first kid mustered up enough confidence to strap in, they all wanted a turn. After a few attempts, the first volunteer was cruising down cement sidewalks half covered with snow, dodging street cats, torn-up fences and car bumpers, while Niels ran behind him screaming, “Bend your knees!” and hoping he wouldn’t kill himself. They continued to ride until the cacophony that inundates Istanbul five times a day began. Muezzin after muezzin, each located in its respective mosque minaret, began belting out their call to prayer over the loudspeakers in what seemed like a competition for who can create the most noise. From where we were perched in the park, we could hear at least 20 different mosques of all sizes—the city is home to more than 3,000 of the Muslim places of worship.
That night we were invited to dinner with Pelin and Aykut, a young couple who owns Zula Snowboard Shop. They brought us to a hip restaurant along the waterfront downtown to break bread and get to know each other. Zula is a little shop located in the shadow of an enormous Trump skyscraper in the center of the city. It’s the only snowboard shop in town, and so it serves as the hub of snowboard culture for all of Eastern Turkey—many of the kids we would later meet at the resorts were either affiliated with Zula or knew the store well. Pelin and Aykut were our on-the-ground connection in Turkey. At dinner, they shared contacts and insights on Turkey’s snowboard culture, and were glad we were here to help encourage and develop the younger generation of Turkish snowboarders. There’s a lot of interest in snowboarding in Turkey, the couple explained, but the country lacks infrastructure in the form of terrain parks, contests and gatherings, and there is little guidance from local and foreign riders. They hoped we could be a firsthand example of where snowboarding can take you in life. By the time we left to meet up with the final members of our crew—French rider Victor Daviet and photographer Julian “Perly” Petry—we had been enlightened about a snowboard culture on the rise, an example of the modernization of Turkish culture at large, at least in Istanbul.
We found Victor and Perly in a kebab shop, indulging in traditional meats served on huge metal platters. It was only then, with the snow in Istanbul melting fast, that we began to map out a course for the next two weeks. But before leaving the city, we decided to milk what was left of the snow and set out to ride near the remarkable “Blue Mosque.” Formally known as the Mosque of Sultan Ahmet I, its blue interior tiles give it its touristic name. Built in the early 1600s on the site of the palace of Byzantium, it’s widely known as one of the greatest examples of Ottoman imperial architecture. With six towering minarets and cascading domes settling in front of the sea, it’s also still an active place of worship. And although they had come to nearby Macka Park to ride, Victor, Niels and Alex’s curiosity outside the mosque got them an invitation to learn the repetitive washing techniques that are required before entering for prayer. Removing their large, clunky snowboard boots, a local man patiently walked them through the process of bathing their feet. As the rest of us watched from just outside the door, they struggled to keep up with the kneeling and standing motions of prayer under the curious gaze of those gathered inside.
KARTALKAYA
Pelin had suggested we go north to a small resort called as Kartalkaya, so we left Istanbul and its endless sprawl of skyscrapers and drove east along the southern coast of the Black Sea, deep into the Turkish countryside. Our rented van struggled to climb the steep and increasingly snowy road into the mountains, despite a fresh set of winter tires. And in Kartalkaya, we found powder, along with a surprise from Pelin: four hotel rooms and buffet tickets in a swanky, five-star hotel for the week.
Kartalkaya is nestled high in the Köroglu mountains in the province of Bolu. It’s quiet during the week, but on weekends it sees an influx of adventure seekers from Istanbul and the nearby capital city of Ankara. Our accommodation at the Golden Key Hotel boasted a huge sectional couch around two fireplaces, a library that stretched from floor to ceiling, a buffet that was good enough to satiate Perly’s discerning French tastes and a welcoming staff. Most of the guests were laid-back older skiers sporting flashy new gear, families on vacation and younger folks who were there to learn to snowboard.
Our first day in Kartalkaya a whiteout emptied the slopes and we had the whole mountain to ourselves. The winds picked up near noon and they closed all but one of the lifts, so we found respite in the thick pine trees and deep powder of the adjacent backcountry. Bootpacking through waist-deep snow, Victor led the charge into a pocket of steep terrain with tightly packed trees and cliffs. We would spend the rest of the week hiking this zone beyond the lifts under stormy skies.
As we debated our next destination on our final night, we were approached by a man in his mid-30s with a goatee and easygoing smile. We’d seen him around for the past week, but hadn’t really spoken to him. As they shared cigarettes and shots of whiskey, Alex explained why we were here and that we had been debating following the coast to the neighboring country of Georgia. As soon as Alex mentioned heading to the northeastern region of Turkey, the man’s eyes widened and in broken English he said, “eastern Turkey no good.” He strongly advised us not to go any farther east unless we wanted to meet gun-toting Turkish cowboys who surely wouldn’t understand our street style of snowboarding. Putting our trust in his local knowledge, we decided to head south to the city of Kayseri for our final week of the trip, about an hour away from the tourist hotspot of Cappadocia.
ERCIYES
Located at the foot of 12,848-foot stratovolcano Mount Erciyes in the Taurus Mountains near the middle of the country, Kayseri is one of the most conservative cities in Turkey, and, after our experience with cosmopolitan Istanbul, it felt like we were arriving in another country. We immediately went to the local tourist office halfway up the volcano, near the base of a smallish ski resort rising up into the alpine. There we met Mr. Murat, a well-dressed bald man who looked and acted as if he worked on Wall Street. We sat in huge white leather couches in his office for more than an hour enjoying Turkish sweets and listening to him explain his gamble of investing millions of dollars into Erciyes to attract European skiers and snowboarders. In return, we explained how six guys from four countries ended up in Turkey filming a snowboard movie. Niels did most of the talking while Sparrow tried his best not to say anything stupid. By the end of the meeting, Mr. Murat had offered free lodging in the basement of his office. Anything we wanted during our stay, all we had to do was call him.
With an unusual but comfortable home base, we descended the winding road into the city to meet up with Osman Tahaoglu, a friend of Pelin’s who owns Deep Up, the only skate shop in Kayseri. His interest in snowboarding started in his teens and hasn’t wavered. Now in his 30s, Osman is an importer/exporter of some sort, but his real passion lies in connecting with the younger generation of Kayseri riders learning to shred Erciyes. Osman spoke perfect English, took control of dinner and ordered one of nearly everything on the menu in a brand-new restaurant serving traditional Kayseri cuisine. Dinner ranged from the mini-dumpling soup of kayseri manti, flavored with chili-infused olive oil and a magical sprinkling of mint and sumac garnish, to the more convivial usulu yaglama, a flatbread layered with a filling of ground meat, onions and tomatoes, and served with a big dose of creamy garlic yogurt.
In addition to treating us to the local culinary scene, Osman also helped us further our Turkish lexicon. We wanted to engage with local culture on more than a superficial level, and chose to learn one Turkish word per day while we were there. So we’d ask whoever we encountered, whether a gondola partner, a resort employee or someone who came to watch us ride, to teach us a word, and they’d happily oblige. The Turkish word for “thank you,” for instance, is “tesekkür” (pronounced “Teeshi-cure”). It’s the kind of word that you get to use a lot throughout the day. Alex really struggled with the pronunciation and insisted on replacing it with “Tacky Chan” or “Jackie Chan,” depending on how he was feeling. Needless to say, the locals didn’t always understand our broken Turkish, but they appreciated the effort.
Back at Erciyes, we encountered more foul weather for the first few days. But on the fourth day, we woke to clear skies. It was the first time we’d seen sun since landing in Istanbul almost two weeks prior, and we boarded a new gondola to the peak. It was Victor’s birthday, and he took the lead in finding a good spot to build a jump for the day. The whole crew began shoveling snow and cutting blocks to shape the lip as clouds crept into the lowlands, leaving the sun to warm the alpine. To which Alex said, “Tacky Chan,” the rest of us said, “tesekkür,” and we rode under a blue Turkish sky.
©Funny Feelings LLC. View All Articles.
Where East Meets West
https://digital.thesnowboardersjournal.com/articles/where-east-meets-west