Last night in Athens

We went with Hugh and Lynne to dinner at a restaurant with a view of the Pantheon for our last night in Athens. We sat on the top floor garden in the clear night air with an excellent view of the timeless Pantheon and one last glimpse of this Ancient Greek citadel first as the sun set and then by moon and floodlight.

Service was first class, the meal (our first baked lamb, baked that is in the Greek style in water), was passable, the wine very good.

Next day, out to the airport by taxi and a long but orderly queue for boarding passes and emigration. Then coffee in the public lounge, airside.

From Athens to Corinth

It is Sunday the 28 April and I am resuming the writing of my blog based on notes made on my I-phone.  As the notes were made on the hop and in varying styles, they are somewhat erratic and incomplete, simply recording in some cases thoughts or phrases captured from time to time.

As we crossed the Corinth Canal across the Isthmus we were told that many great men from Alexander to Nero had the  idea of digging the canal but were thwarted by superstition, cost and absence of technology. Nero, an enthusiast for the Canal, died when it was a scratch on the surface.

We saw the Fountain House of Klufge wife of Jason and added more names based on myth.  The fountain was hewn from local limestone.

“Whoops - there goes Denis”. This was a remark made by our guide when she was explaining why there was a ban, at the museum at Ancient Corinth, on posing with statues for photographs. The ban arose from the tendency of some visitors to strip off their clothes to pose naked next to the naked statues of ancient heroes. I pretended that I was about to remove my shirt causing the remark. It added to my legend.

The large number of missing heads on many of the statues,  was put down to earthquakes as they were fashioned from detachable heads instituted as a cost saving measure at times of fiscal constraint. The heads rolled away and were picked randomly by 18th and 19th century travelers.

Photo of minors showing Jewish presence in ancient Corinth.

We also saw at the Asklepion of Corinth clay or marble representations body parts, including many breasts and genitals, indicating to the doctors the location of illnesses. The  huge number suggests presence of STDs in the region and the explosive mix of sacred prostitutes and sailors and drinking symposia.

Many photos of vases. Dark on light of local yellow clay, geometric. No human figures apart from on an imported vase.

We saw the largest forum of Ancient Corinth, now a ruin where camomile grows wild.  In forum we can imagine St Paul, who stayed in the city for some time, working as a tent maker with leather shops nearby. (the are several references to Corinth in Paul’s letters and in the Acts of the Apostles. In due course, i shall include relevant extracts.

In 146 BC, Ancient Corinth was ruined by Romans but about 100 years later, restored somewhat by Julius Caesar who settled veterans here.  This intervention enabled the city to regain its position in the reported rivalry between the Corinthians and Athens

But it was finally destroyed by barbarians and earthquakes. The city was rediscovered in 19th century.

Here are some more notes which I have yet to decipher properly:

Winged horse or Pegasus

Upper Pyrenee is spring now polluted by bats so only used for gardens.

When did the bats come?

Early Christian church from 5th century AD. Built on top of synagogue. Photo.

Erastus pa ing - photo of carved inscription so this was probably the Erastus mentioned in Acts.

The Historical Jesus

I have tried in these last few days to imagine how I might have reported on the events of 2000 years ago - or  more precisely in the period between 29 and 50 AD the accepted period during which Paul wandered around in these parts - if I had been a foreign diplomat posted in say Jerusalem or Antioch. Remember, I would have been reporting to a skeptical head office disinclined to believe anything it's junior diplomats reported.  I would, no doubt, have had to hedge my account of the reported miracles and especially stories of the resurrection with heavy qualification, sophistry and question. I might have said that I had received first or second hand reports from a large number of people of the astounding events. I would have described the reliability and consistency of the reports, noting the only minor variation between them. If I were eloquent enough in my despatch - blessed with the articulation of the Apostles - my report might have been passed up the ranks.

I also wondered what might others have been reporting at the time, especially the spies and informers of neighbouring powers? The Roman historian, reporting a hundred years later, perhaps would have been my model.

There follows here a gap in my notes which resume after the completion of the tour.   What follows is an account of a trip we made to Naphlion with Hugh and Lynne after the tour to meet with our old friends Evangelos and Judy who have settled for the moment in Greece.

Naphlion

In Naphlion we stayed sf the Grand Sarai, a hotel built with care and studied perfection down to the selection of furniture, the design of a spiral stairwell, and the shuttered windows. Everything worked from the fast Internet connection to the toaster. It is quiet in a back pathway of the town with marbled steps and footpaths. We were told later that the marbled steps can be dangerous and slippery after the rain, a point confirmed by our own experience in climbing up to the Pantheon in Athens, the hard way as reported earlier. 

A garden and walls, some unfortunately daubed with graffiti the ubiquitous expression of frustration of a people puzzled by their country's sudden fall from economic grace. A sort of public Facebook page.

We could glimpse the Aegean  from our window and breathe the fresh country air.

Civilized is probably the word to describe the town with its history of Ancient Greece, Venetian and Genoese DNA, a relatively brief 100 year exposure to Ottoman colonization, to its neat taxi queue and transparent price signage; a round trip to Mycaenae and Widaurus for 39 Euros,

Only one horrible block building in town that we could see but a goodly number of older ones ready for renovation: we saw one for 200,000 Euros (and the same again for renovation).

On the road back from Naphlion we saw: Tyrens, a strong limestone wall; and smelt the perfume of the orange blossoms through the opened skylight on the coach; another citadel on top of a commanding mountain top; was this near Argos?; reached within half an hour.

At midday we turned right to join the motorway (the A7)  to Athens shown as 107 kilometres away . Hugh told me that in his day the road was "pretty ordinary" thus making the journey to Naphlion much longer. We pass through a toll booth with its familiar beep to signal the toll had been paid.

At some 95 kilometres before Athens, we pass by a massive fort that stretches across true entire flat top of a  huge mountain. We will check later on its origins.

We cross the Corinth Canal and call in briefly at a roadhouse on the edge of modern Corinth where a grandfather on board makes use of the toilets and comes back on the coach looking smug. We can see the Aegean to the right and the Adriatic to the left as we push north.

Last night in Athens

We went with Hugh and Lynne to dinner at a restaurant with a view of the Pantheon for our last night in Athens. We sat on the top floor garden in the clear night air with an excellent view of the timeless Pantheon and one last glimpse of this Ancient Greek citadel first as the sun set and then by moon and floodlight.

Service was first class, the meal (our first baked lamb, baked that is in the Greek style in water), was passable, the wine very good.

Next day, out to the airport by taxi and a long but orderly queue for boarding passes and emigration. Then coffee in the public lounge, airside.

Sunday 21 April or thereabouts

We have now been in Greece for a week and I fear, dear reader(s), that I have published nothing!  I have, however, made extensive if somewhat erratic and disordered notes on our 7 days here.

My new nickname, given to me by a Bishop, is Titus on the grounds that Saint Paul used him for diplomatic purposes in his own missions abroad and that I, dubiously, have the semblance of diplomatic qualities. Some people in our group still can't tell one diplomat from another and confuse me with my fellow traveller and ex diplomatic colleague Hugh. So, Titus will have to do.

Greece can be confusing. Carefully demarcated tales of legend and history blur and blend in the inattentive mind.  Each touches the other through custom and behaviour. People here respect old idols and traditions but pray to the "unknown God", as Saint Paul characterised the Christian god some 2000 years ago, a God that needed no man-made icons, and obey the Christian laws.  Still, monuments built with human hands ad sweat, celebrate the old gods and walls or battlements protect their treasures. We saw plenty of them.

   Such as this one, chosen at random from the 100s of photographs taken by Sharon. It is I think of the ramp leading up to a gallery on the Acropolis in Athens.  There was a different god for each cave around or under the Acropolis even before this mighty structure was built.

On Friday the 19th we started a bus tour of Athens early due to a warning from the police that a demonstration or protest of some sort would close the city centre. Our quick tour took in Hadrian's Arch (how many Arches does one man need?); St Paul's Anglican Church to underline the liberal attitude of the Orthodox Church, the Botanic Gardens, Constitution Square and House of Parliament; the Grande Britannia Hotel chosen as the residence by King Otto of Bavaria - who turned out not to be a very satisfactory choice of King imposed on Greece by the European Powers; the Roman CAtholic Church of Saint Denis; the Academy of Greece with statues of Plato and Aristotle; another statue of Apollo; the first Olympic Stadium of 30 BC, marbled in the first century AD.

We climbed the hill of Mars across the slippery pinkish grey marble. I nearly lost my footing several times leading to a loss of confidence that I could retain my balance and fearful that I would come a cropper I moved ever more cautiously across the way.

I think this is me in the background trying to keep upright but there is a better photograph somewhere!   

Gallipoli - Saturday 13 April

Reflecting on the Turkey of 40 years ago and today, one thing illustrates the changes wrought in the country, for which Australia can claim some responsibility: the changed attitudes to Gallipoli. The Turks now celebrate it as much as we do.

Some forty years ago, we struggled to get more than a handful of Australians and a few Turks, to join us on 25 April on the Gallipoli peninsular.  In those days very few Turks recalled the events of 1915 with the same reverence that we showed to the battle on the peninsular - only the very old and some military historians  

Now, thousands of Australians crowd onto this thin strip of European Turkey stretching out into the Aegean Sea. Such has been the impact in Turkey of our massive, and now fairly ordered and sober, celebrations, that the Turks have adopted the event as their own, inspired at least in part by the way we conduct them.  They now describe their defense of the peninsular, including their successful blockade of the Dardanelles that preceded it, as a ‘turning point’ in their short history as an independent nation. A young school boy we met at the markets in a remote Turkish town in Anatolia, responded with a cry of 'ANZAC!' when we told him we were from Australia.  The Attaturk Mausoleum in Ankara now features the Gallipoli defense in a diorama that is the exact counterpoint of one in the national war memorial in Canberra - viewed from the heights rather than the beaches. 

The defense of the straits and the peninsular was certainly the basis upon which Mustafa Kemal [Attaturk] built a reputation for heroism and which formed a springboard for his campaign in the 1920’s for Turkish independence and recovery of territories.  There is, in this sense, a curious parallel between Turkish and Australian history: Gallipoli was a glorious lost battle for the ANZACs and a victory for the Turks; but Australia and its allies won the war. The Turks lost every other battle of the First World War in which they were engaged and went down with their German allies in the overall conflagration.  But we both celebrate the battle: the Turks as a turning point as I said and we as the coming of age of a nation federated just 14 years before the landings at ANZAC Cove. Sharon and I posed for this photograph identifying the Cove with the beaches in the background. The landscape and the memorials are as memorable and moving as ever.

Into Greece

After Gallipoli we travelled north up the peninsular into European Turkey and then crossed the border into Greece.

We stayed for two nights in Kavala, which is nearby to the ancient town of Philippi.  We were picking up the footsteps of Saint Paul who has crossed the Aegean Sea from Turkey to Thrace.  Here, Paul delivered his first sermon in Europe and converted his first European, a fairly well off woman by the name of Lidia, a 'god-fearer'.

Kavala is in the most Moslem part of Greece due to its 400 years or so as part of the Ottoman Empire. villages in teh country side seem to feature as many mosques as churches and I heard Turkish being spoken in the town.

Whilst we were in Istanbul, we visited Topkapi Palace but I was not able to publish a brief summary. Here it is:

Topkapi Palace.

We have visited this palace before but never well-briefed. This time I read the accounts of it relayed in a guide to Istanbul. It is the largest in Istanbul comprising three Courts: the first, the court of the Janisseries, contains the Imperial Mint and the Church of Hagia Irene which survived as a storehouses  and armory; the second court, used by the Sultan to hold audiences and to dispense justice. On the left are the chambers of the Divan or Council with a golden grill or eye of the sultan; the inner treasury containing inter alia the sword of M the C; the palace of kitchens;  and the entrance to the Harem - family, concubines and various numbers of eunuchs. Famous occupants include Ibrahim the Mad, corrupt, misruling, and sexual excesses - he was eventually murdered and replaced by his son.

The third courtyard or inner palace, entered through the Gate of Felicity, contains the throne room  or audience chamber the sultan on a canopied throne  received viziers, officials and foreign ambassadors. 

The most overwhelming impact and one that cannot be recorded olefactorily here is the aroma of hyacinths that hits you on entry to the palace. So whilst I have plenty of photographs of the palace itself, this one of the gardens is included so at east I can share the visual impact with my readers.

From Pamukkale, Friday

The remarkable change that we observed in Ankara, Capadoccia and Istanbul was also evident in the south west of Turkey.

Perhaps the most obvious aspect of change concerns infrastructure and housing: there is a lot more of both. Izmir now stretches around the entire bay and inland for miles as offices, industry and homes extend along the beaches and over the hilly hinterland.  

Nowhere was this aspect of change more obvious than in the town of Salihili, a place we inadvertently visited in 1972. In my memo written at the time I said of our visit:

"It was an unscheduled [stop] due to a car breakdown some 50 kilometres east of Izmir.  [It] was somewhat too large to qualify as a village [but too small for a town]  and it had block shaped two or three story buildings.  The one that interested us was the only Inn in town where we stopped for the night.  It was cheap, dirty and squalid.  The mattresses were dirty, lumpy and did not boast of bed covers.  The bathroom was locked; when opened it revealed a casual tenant.  It was, in any case, unusable with the bath plug hole blocked by hair and dirt.  Out side our windows the shrill cry of the muezzin at one was matched by the noise of a blood and thunder Indian-made movie at the other. Jenny Williams swears tha she still bears the scars of bed bugs from the evening.  Terrazzo and heat - no need  for bed covers. It cost us about half a lira."

Now Salihi is a big down equipped with industry (ubiquitous brick factories), shops and extensive housing. We lunched at a newly opened restaurant with an excellent menu, high quality service and air-conditioning.

Another remark in my memmoire also resonates.  In 1972, I wrote  [about Pamukkale] that

"Our fascination with it, probably deprived us of the opportunity to visit the many other places in Turkey that we missed."

We were to make up for the omissions in 2013.

Aphrodisias, Miletus and Kusadasi

We were making up for lost time in Aphrodisias on 7 April with a visit to Aphrodisias on our way to Kusadasi.  This city was built near a marble quarry extensively mined in the Hellenistic and Roman periods. Its sculptures were to become famous in the Roman world and were of course laid before us on our visit - both at the extended site of the city and in the museum.

A freed slave of the Emperor Augustus became governor of this city. Apparently he was a good administrator.

Our eyes were agog at the beauty and extensiveness of this site and we wondered why we had not visited it before, either in our two years in Turkey in the early 70s or even later in our 2011 Mediterranean Cruise. In the first instance, the answer lies in the fact that it was not excavated until later in the century so there was not much to see in our earlier stay; and in the second instance it is still outshone by Ephesus so that in the limited time allowed by the Cruise, and our fond memories of many trips to Ephesus meant that we had not taken the opportunity.

The only notes I have taken refer to a classical freshwater well with a basin dug on the side by hand - a practice that continues today; a classical gymnasium with a teaching auditorium and sports arena; a Greek Theatre with Roman additions such as the building of a raised platform for the actors. The Theatre faces East to avoid the wind.

The Temple of Aphrodite is the highlight and we took photographs of this largest temple to this cult with snow covered mountains in the background. The Temple features a features a sculpture of Aphrodite on the back of a wild boar with a fish in her hand.

For a period, the city was known as Stavropoulis or city of crosses arisong from the Christian era circa 4th century AD. The Roman theatre is built against 36 man-made structures to replicate the slope of land used by the Greeks who were less competent in the building of free-standing theatres and thus had to build them into the slope of a hill or mountain. It is said to have sat 30,000 suggesting a population for the city in the region of 300,000.

I think that Aphrodite competes well with Ephesus in its magnificence.

We drove on from Aphrodite to Miletos which features in a letter from Paul which is said to be sad in tone. It also has a Graeco-Roman theater (that seats 15,000), topped by a Byzantium citadel. 

Istanbul

We flew back to Ankara and then on to Istanbul to catch our flight to Kayseri, as part of our tour to Cappadocia. Once that tour was completed we flew again to Istanbul where we met up with the the few tour members who had not joined the Capadoccia trip and moved by coach to our hotel in Istanbul: the Kent Hotel in the Beyazit area.

For the afternoon, Sharon and I walked to the Sultanahmet area and then a little further on to find the Eresin Crown Hotel, where we are to stay later after the Greek leg of the tour so as to meet up with my sister Patricia. We were 'guided', if that is the right term, by a pleasant young man who claimed to have spent some time in Australia. He insisted that we visit his shop but we put him off and went on to the hotel instead.

There we had an encounter with the receptionist who assured us that we had booked and paid for only 7 nights accommodation. We knew this to be wrong and had the receipts from our travel agent to prove it. We showed them to her. This did not seem to convince her so I threw a little tantrum. This had the effect of encouraging her to enquire further and she told us to wait a while whilst she checked with er travel agent who would check with the Turkish agency that represented ours in Istanbul. In the meantime she suggested we have a coffee or tea. As we waited and before the coffee arrived she told us that in fact we were right. We enjoyed the coffee anyway and as we were about to leave I asked her whether it could be put on our bill or whether we should pay it straight away. She demurred at the idea of putting it on our bill but checked with the head waiter. He arrived to say that the coffee was complimentary. This improved my mood considerably and we parted on the best of terms.

We decided to walk back a different way and go a glimpse of the sort of sites we hope to see more of in our later 8 day visit to Istanbul.

Turkey and the Crawford Fund

Turkey and the Crawford Fund

DG Blight

I visited the Ministry of Food, Agriculture and Livestock’s General Directorate of Agricultural Research and Policies on 28 March meeting with Dr Masum Burak, Director General.

I also met Dr Emin Donmez, Wheat Breeder in the Wheat Breeding Unit of CRIFT; and Namuk Ergun, Barley Breeder of the Barley Breeding Unit of CRIFT.  Donmez and Ergun were both Crawford Fund trainees. We were accompanied throughout by Akin Aras and Canan Yagci both of the Turkish Seed Gene Bank.

The Director General formally welcomed me to the General Directorate. He is well informed on the work of the CGIAR and CABI in general and is a Board member of ICARDA.  

He has not yet visited Australia but wishes to do so in the context of Turkey’s decision to establish a national botanic garden, described briefly below. He has recently visited Kew Gardens, which he admired greatly, but would also like to see the Botanic Gardens of Perth, Melbourne, Sydney and Canberra and - at my suggestion - CSIRO and its 

Cyclotron.  

CRIFC has a broad range of programs set out in a promotional booklet that I will place in the Crawford Fund library and which may also be available at www.tarim.gov.tr or www.tagem.gov.tr.  It covers all the usual fields in plant and animal science.  Its budget has grown steadily from around 7 million liras in 2002 to 85 million in 2012.  Turkey aims to increase the ratio of R&D investment to GDP from its current level of 0.9 per cent to 2.5 per cent by 2020.  Its R&D programs include a private sector support program, an Institutes-Private Sector Collaboration Program, and an international collaboration program embracing the CGIAR and education and infrastructure program with the Turkish International Cooperation and Development Agency TIKA).

We agreed that the Fund and CRIFC might be able to cooperate in the following contexts: in areas of national interest of both Turkey and Australia, where the Fund could provide minimal support to introduce the parties to each other but where financing of cooperative activities would be the responsibility of the relevant Turkish and Australian research centres and agencies; and activities in poorer neigbouring countries in West Asia and North Africa. 

The Master Class in Soil Borne Pathogens, which took place in Turkey in 2011 is an example but there will be other opportunities. There may be opportunities for funding from TIKA, although I did not explore this with CRIFC.

The newly established Turkish Seed Bank was the main focus of our discussion. We were given presentation on it by Canan Yagci, representing   Kursad Ozbek (ozbekkursad@yahoo.com) who has recently visited Australia under Crawford Fund auspices but was absent in Izmir. She is pictured here with me and Akin Aras. She has undertaken to send me a copy of her power point presentation.

It appears to me to be an excellent facility.  It is described in its promotional document as the ‘third largest Seed Gene Bank of the world’ and was opened at CRIFC in Ankara in 2010. It is said to have the conservation capacity for 250,000 seed samples and 60,000 herbarium specimen samples. 

The following day, in company with the former Turkish Ambassador to Australia, Mr Murat Ersavci and Mrs Ersavci, we drove out to the site of the planned National Botanic Garden. Some 220 hectares of land have been set aside near the campus of the Ministry in greater Ankara on the Eskisehir road between Bilkent (private) and Haceteppe Universities. Already there is evidence of plantings for an aboretum.

Perhaps of particular interest is the International Agricultural Research and Training Centre 

established in Izmir in 2009.  It has organised training activities in cooperation with TIKA, ISEDAK, ICARDA and FAO.

Team Australia might think of mounting an activity of some sort to coincide with the celebrations planned throughout 2015 to mark 100 years since the first landing of ANZAC troops at Gallipoli. It is the wish of both countries that these celebrations should be about more than a savage but noble conflict of long ago.  I have suggested elsewhere that consideration be given to a major Australian educational exhibition in Turkey in 2015.

Turkey and International Education

Last night, at dinner, I engaged in conversation with the Australian Ambassador to Turkey, Ian Higgs and one or two other knowledgeable people including in particular Murat Ersavci, the former Turkish Ambassador to Australia and his wife Zeynep. Murat and Zeynep are old friends with whom we are staying in their apartment in Ankara. Also present was Ilker Ersil (iersil@vokaliz.com) the Managing Director of Vokaliz, a cultural management organisation. Incidentally, I found a shared interest in choral singing with both Ilker and the Ambassador.

All expressed concern that whilst the odd academic and international representative from Australian higher education came through Ankara from time to time (Ian Young, Vice Chancellor of ANU) arrives next week) there seemed to be little interest amongst Australian institutions in recruiting from the Turkish market in a cohesive way. A few years ago I raised in a plenary session of the Australian International Education Conference, the prospects in Turkey on the grounds that universities needed to diversify their market countries to accommodate variability in market conditions, especially as for various reasons numbers and market share fell away in one or more countries.  My suggestions were dismissed rather peremptorily by the so-called experts.  Turks, the said were only interested in immigration.

In support of my view on the market, I read in a Turkish agents report that teenagers 'make up 30% of Turkey's population, two times higher than the EU average. In 2010, over 1.5 million students took the National University Placement Exam and only 327,869 students were placed in a four-year university in Turkey. Turkish students are [therefore] looking to foreign institutions for admission.'

As indicated, however, more detailed study is required.

I think they were wrong, patently so in respect of fondness for immigration to Australia - a point made nicely by Ian in a short speech of introduction to the evening. I think that at least the Turkish market deserves a fresh look.  I was encouraged in this view by Ian.

There is now a wider context: 2015 is the one hundredth anniversary of the first landings of Anzac troops at Gallipoli.  A series of cultural celebrations are planned throughout the year by the Embassy. Australia is determined that the celebrations should be about more than Gallipoli.  No doubt, a decent group of Australian  international educators may be interested in visiting the country in 2015, which combined with the celebrations might not provide an impetus for a university education exhibition. By organising such an exhibition, IDP would be making a singular contribution to the celebrations and broadening their focus.

No doubt more ground work on the character of the market is needed by I have been impressed by the economic and social progress achieved in Turkey. Whilst the number of universities in the country has increased so too has the burgeoning middle class, all with the ambition for a higher education.  The children of domestic staff now aspire for a university education as we found upon enquiry.  There will be the usual areas of interest such as commerce and business but I suspect that some specialist areas, where capacity in Turkey is probably still limited, might also be prospective for recruitment.

I have made a number of contacts here in Turkey and I am prepared to continue to explore the market.  No doubt, there will be private agents keen to work with me but I emailed Andrew Thomson, the chief executive of IDP, to say thought I should, out of loyalty, test his interest first.

A Walk Downtown in Ankara

On Wednesday morning, we walk down to Tunali Hilmi and take shelter from a light rain-shower in a modern coffee shop that serves sweet cakes and pastries. The crowd includes a young couple in modern dress cuddling up next to each other in a lovers' lounge and older women some with head scarves but mostly bareheaded. Quality  and numbers of shops in this part of Ankara are like Manuka on steroids.

We come across Tunali Hilmi and turn left towards Kizilay. Once we reach Attaturk Boulevarde, we turn right and within a few blocks reach the Grand Ankara Hotel now part of the Rixos Group. As it was after 12.00 by the time we reached it, we decide to lunch here for old times sake in spite of the high prices - we share one serving of shish tavuk at 33 liras.

It is quiet and unrushed. The waitress removes a reserved sign from a table with comfortable club chairs when we show interest in it. We enjoy olives and tapanard on bread and cool water whilst we wait

The chefs, all men, in their tall hats have not changed, says Sharon. I take a photograph with my i-phone.

I ask permission first but the chefs readily agree to the photograph.  We shared a chicken shish and a salad.

We walked back after lunch, uphill all the way to the apartment.

I am greatly encouraged by the interest being shown in the Crawford Fund by the Turkish authorities and research institutions in general and by alumni in particular. Tomorrow, I am to be the guest of the Turkish 'gene bank' on the initiative of a former Crawford Fund sponsored trainee.

Wednesday has dawned as a beautiful day in Ankara: partially cloudy sky, occasional rain showers, temperature a pleasant 12 degrees. From our apartment we can see for miles to where the city extends east towards Eskisehir and in side view to the north and the south: a modern vibrant city with a booming middle class.

We visited the Anatolian Museum in the old city (Ulus) and traced the history from Assyrian and Hittite eras through Phrygian, Greek, Roman, Byzantine and Ottoman times.

A selection of snaps from the Anatolian Museum

In Ankara

We transited from the international to domestic terminal at Istanbul without difficulty ad were soon on our way to Ankara. With the help of  a friendly taxi driver and a telephone call or two to Zeynep we arrived safely at the Ersavci residence.

Ankara is staggeringly bigger than it was 40 years ago. So much so that from the air it seemed to have several centres, including an entirely new settlement to the west on the road to Eskisehir. The drive from the airport, along a twin carriageway that contrasted sharply with our first ride in from the airport in 1972, took about 30 minutes.

The extent of growth became clearer on Tuesday morning when we awoke to a warm but cloudy day. We could see from the vantage point of the Ersavci's 8th floor apartment a grand vista to the West, the enormous build up of apartments beyond Cankaya.

A View From the 8th Floor

We went on an orientation tour in Murat's car. One place that was firmly registered n our recollection of Ankara was 11/11 Enis Behic Koryurek, our apartment in Ankara. We recalled that the Russian Embassy was down one end of our street and a street called Vali Dr Resit at the other.  To our great joy and surprise our apartment is still there.  We noticed that the balcony on our fourth floor  apartment,  which we had crudely enclosed with fly wire was now neatly glassed in. Our was the only one so treated and we like to think that the glass was installed in succession to our primitive effort.

Our apartment in Ankara 1972/1973

We posed for photographs in front of the apartment block and a pink blossom tree, showing Spring had arrived in Ankara if not in England.

Sunset Over Ankara - the view from apartment window as the sun sets over  growing city

William Dalrymple at the Festival

At Dalrymples talk at the Oxford Literary Festival after waiting in the snow for a bus; being driven comfortably enough from Wallingford to Oxford on the X40; and then queuing for five minutes or so before gaining entry to the Sheldonian to hear him.

So, I was not in a good mood when I shuffled into the cheapest seats in the back row - flat boards with no backrest.

But Dalrymple was a good story teller albeit with a somewhat loud and grating delivery.  He described the debacle of the first Afghan War, driven by the greed of the East India Company and its shareholders; the drawing room arguments of a conservative right wing in the UK; an army  and led by incompetents and supported by a British Government that ignored intelligence that said the great rival Imperial Russia was nowhere near the Afghan borders but chose to act on a single piece of evidence of the sighting of a troop of Cossacks.

The British Invasion was initially successful in spite of losses incurred due to heat not enemy bullets. One year of peace and polo followed the installation of a puppet king. The right wing celebrated and scoffed at liberal wets. The army relaxed in its indefensible cantonment. But then the spark of a single indiscretion, by a British officer with a young woman claimed by a tribal leader, set alight a massacre and a disorganised retreat of the British . And the rest is history.

It was Dalrymple's guess that Afghanistan would descend into a form of civil war with the Taliban strong in rural districts in the south and a government and its tribal allies ensconced in growing, modernizing urban areas and Internet savvy youth around increasingly populous cities, and in the north. The Chinese, he thought, already deeply invested in mineral activities backed up by spending on road and rail to service its mines, would  'conquer' the  country without firing a single shot. Hmm.

As I say, a good story teller but  an analyst of uncertain quality.  I wouldn't know.

Saturday 24 March - Snowing in Wallingford

It is snowing in Wallingford. As I tweeted this morning, one does not come to England for the weather, even in March.  It was nice to get a tweet in response from Sam Brannan who was my secretary when I was at CABI, welcoming us back to Wallingford.  The snow began as tiny flakes blown aimlessly by the light wind; at one stage it looked like turning into sleet or wet snow, which would have been disappointing; but now as I write the flakes are bigger and settling on the windscreens of cars. So, I am staying in this morning attending to my blog.

I am re-reading William Dalrymple's From the Holy Mountain, for two reasons: first, because I am this afternoon, snow storm permitting, going to a talk by him at the Oxford Literary Festival and a former neighbour has asked me to get him to sign her copy of the book, which she has leant me; and secondly, of course, because we are embarking on part of the journey he writes about in the book.

He visited Mount Athos and then Istanbul before heading further east to Ankara and Diyabakir.  He is a good writer but methinks a little unfair or outdated in his views on the Turks.  I was captured though by his description of Aya Sophia:

At the end of the Hippodrome, then as now, rises the great dome of Justinian's Hagia Sophia, the supreme masterpiece of Byzantine architecture, and still, in the eyes of many, the most beautiful church ever built. No other Christian building is so successful in transporting one to the threshold of the another world or so dazzlingly intimates the the imminence of the transcendent.

His description of coach rides and endless supplies of eau de cologne (more accurately, rosewater) splashed over customers to refresh them rang true. We remember stinking of the stuff. But his claim that 'rural Turks' had built a splendid and modern hotel in Ankara, the Buyuk Ankara Oteli, and allowed it to run down clashed with our memory of the place, which was our home for two months in 1972.  We shall have to check on it when we return to Ankara after 41years on Monday.

The snow flakes are getting small, and wet, again. Kathy Mansfield has promised to send me a photograph of the snow, for the blog.

Oxford Literary Festival

One of the privileges of staying so close to Oxford is the ease with which one can attend interesting events at Oxford University. We are in town at the time of the Oxford Literary Festival so on Thursday I caught the bus from Wallingford to Saint Aldgate and Christchurch College, which hosts the Box Office for the event.

I selected and paid for two discussions: The Spying Game with presenters R Jeffrey Jones, C Mulley and C Morgan Jones; and Universal Values - Are they the basis for World Order by Paddy Ashdown and World Order.

I arrived a little late at the Sheldonian (see photo taken on my i-phone) for the first event so had to sit in 'the naughty seats' in the dress circle beyond the reach of the moving microphones so, probably fortunately, was excluded from asking questions. I know a little, a very little, about the intelligence services so I was able to pick up on the presentations pretty quickly.

As the program notes, four writers approached the spying game from different angles. Professor Rhodi Jones is described as an authority on the CIA and although he made sense it was impossible to tell from what he said the level of his authority. He focused on the Anglo American intelligence relationship some of which I witnessed during my two years on the JIC in the early 80s.  Clare Mulley wrote The Spy Who Loved, the story of Christine Glanville a Polish national who spied for the  allies during the Second World War. She was indignant about the treatment of Glanville after the war. Mark Husband, the former security correspondent  from the Financial Times, wrote trading Secrets.  Chris Morgan Jones, who worked for Kroll described as the 'world's largest investigation company', wrote his debut novel An Agent of Deceit based on his experience of Russian affairs in industrial espionage.

Questions ranged from 'who controls the spies' thought to a quest for 'the truth about Roger Collis'.

By the 4.00 p.m. session with Paddy Ashdown and 'leading academic and writer on the middle east' Dr Eugene Rogan, I was seated in a front row. However, like Rogan, I was overwhelmed or intimidated by the presence and force of Ashdown and unlike Rogan I stayed quiet.  Rogan argued that there are culture specific values, values that differ across cultures, and for which people are prepared to fight and die.  Ashdown believes that there are values shared across the globe, around the concept of respect for the individual, and that these common interests will help us provide the governance in in a multi-polar world. Along the way, Ashdown reminded us that for every murderous outrage committed by an Islamist, there were ten committed by extremist Christians.

I read something today that makes me want to side with Ashdown. It is in a book by the philosopher Alain de Botton entitled Religion for Atheists.  He examines the great traditions and values of major religions and argues that although they have not evolved out of shared cultural origins they are a response to the universal needs of the human psyche. He illustrates his case with reference to characteristics such as kindness.  in this case he refers to longings for comfort that are real and innate but which have been legitimated by the qualities of key figures in religion: Mary in Christianity, Isis in ancient Egypt, Demeter in Greece, Venus in Rome and Guan Yin in China.  he says that the need for comfort 'has become too closely identified with a need for Mary herself instead of being seen for what it really is: an appetite which began long before the gospels, originating at the very moment when the first child was picked up by his or her mother and soothed amid the darkness and cold of the first underground cave.'

On Saturday, I shall go to a talk by William Dalrymple.

Wednesday it must be Wallingford.

I was struck by a great sense of joyful familiarity as we were driven from Reading to Wallingford yesterday by our good friend Kathy Mansfield - who took time off from the Oxford Literary Festival.

It seems colder than March of previous stays but much else remains the same.  More houses but still plenty of green space and farms.  Didcot still chuffing out smoke. Faint smell of wood fires in the street.   Waitrose dominates high street and its old store effectively vacant.

The Lime Tree on St John's Green is flourishing although there are worries about the depth of its roots. I played a role as head of CABI in advising that a Lime be selected to replace the old dying oak tree planted more than a 100 years ago so I take a bit of responsibility for its welfare. The old metal seat on the Green has been restored to its place of pride around the tree and a new plaque added to record its planting in December 2005.

Kites, reintroduced to Oxfordshire some twenty years ago, are now prolific but limited to the County.

Later, we walked around town and I spent some time in the Old Post Office (OPO) enjoying a coffee. Kathy Mansfield dropped in to spend some time by the fire and talking about highlights of the Festival with me searching for talks on the science/religion interface.  Talks which I had already missed included one by AC Grayling dealing with arguments against religion and whether arguments for belief stand up to scrutiny and posits humanism as a view of the world and a foundation for morality.  I am reading Jonathan Sack's 'The Great Partnership: God Science and the Search for Meaning.  On the surface, I find Sack's argument that faith has always played a part in human culture and that it inspires people to acts of moral greatness, though undoubtedly true, as curiously unsatisfactory as a basis for belief  and somehow placing religion on a par with science. I find myself with a problem when articles of faith for some religions - such as the resurrection of Jesus - clash obviously with the facts of science. This is a particular problem when I read that faith pivots on the literal acceptance of the resurrection as fact.

Still, I must read on.

Wednesday it must be Wallingford.

I was struck by a great sense of joyful familiarity as we were driven from Reading to Wallingford yesterday by our good friend Kathy Mansfield - who took time off from the Oxford Literary Festival.

It seems colder than March of previous stays but much else remains the same.  More houses but still plenty of green space and farms.  Didcot still chuffing out smoke. Faint smell of wood fires in the street.   Waitrose dominates high street and its old store effectively vacant.

The Lime Tree on St John's Green is flourishing although there are worries about the depth of its roots. I played a role as head of CABI in advising that a Lime be selected to replace the old dying oak tree planted more than a 100 years ago so I take a bit of responsibility for its welfare. The old metal seat on the Green has been restored to its place of pride around the tree and a new plaque added to record its planting in December 2005.

Kites, reintroduced to Oxfordshire some twenty years ago, are now prolific but limited to the County.

Later, we walked around town and I spent some time in the Old Post Office (OPO) enjoying a coffee. Kathy Mansfield dropped in to spend some time by the fire and talking about highlights of the Festival with me searching for talks on the science/religion interface.  Talks which I had already missed included one by AC Grayling dealing with arguments against religion and whether arguments for belief stand up to scrutiny and posits humanism as a view of the world and a foundation for morality.  I am reading Jonathan Sack's 'The Great Partnership: God Science and the Search for Meaning.  On the surface, I find Sack's argument that faith has always played a part in human culture and that it inspires people to acts of moral greatness, though undoubtedly true, as curiously unsatisfactory as a basis for belief  and somehow placing religion on a par with science. I find myself with a problem when articles of faith for some religions - such as the resurrection of Jesus - clash obviously with the facts of science. This is a particular problem when I read that faith pivots on the literal acceptance of the resurrection as fact.

Still, I must read on.

Denis with the Mayor of Bath at the launch of the Bath Digital Festival on 14th of March 2013.

On Saturday 16 March I wrote: we are on the train from Bath to Portsmouth where we will change to a train to Brighton. We chose this route as an alternative to the one prompted by British Rail because it gave an opportunity to view the Wiltshire country-side rather than the somewhat drearier view on the Bath to London to Brighton route and because of the relatively easier transit afforded by the flat platform at Portsmouth.

For  a few miles out of Bath the train follows the River Avon, passing for example, Bradford on Avon.

Much had also changed at the Roman Baths in Bath since our first visit in 1972.  Instead of gloomy, blackened uninviting ruins we saw sparkling waters beautifully lit as Bath celebrated a renewal and preparations for a festival.

After a meeting with the Mayor of Bath, an elected for twelve-months-only official,  we moved on to a drinks party at the spa hosted by the festival.

There is an interesting vitality about Bath illustrated for me by the changes being rung on the multiple, and beautiful campuses of Bath Spa University by its new Vice Chancellor Professor Christie Slade.  Not all of these changes have yet been made public but they are based on an optimistic, even aggressive, approach to public private partnerships building on the great heritage of Bath and the scope for it to become an international centre for global leadership through innovation.  It certainly has the history and the environment and leadership of individuals such as the Mayor and Christie to establish itself as such.

We were impressed with Bath from the moment we alighted from the train at Bath Spa Station. We were met by a very helpful employee at the Station; she gently guided us with our heavy luggage to a newly installed lift; introduced us a taxi driver at the front of a queue who knew our destination and the fact that roadworks might block our entrance to it - he kindly helped us with our baggage down the hill; and of course by the generous welcome from our hosts Rob Hamilton and Christie.