To Turkey the Scenic Way

I woke up to a chillingly cold Canberra morning, the inside of my windows slightly fogged over. I roll onto my other side. My head feels heavy. The sensation only increases as I sit up. Turns out moderated drinking doesn't ensure feeling fresh the next morning. Oh well.

I get out of bed and put the final touches on my packing, making sure there's a bit of room in the top of my pack for purchases. I'm all good to go but it still hasn't sunk in that in a mere few hours I'll be taking the flight from hell that will deposit me on the other side of the world and for the first time, all alone. I felt very chilled and content, feeling no panic or sense of urgency.

I walked down for one last college lunch before clearing out for greener pastures, the magnitude of what I was about to do still barely touching the fringes of my mind's occupation. It just felt like any other. I said goodbye to everyone knowing that I wouldn't be staying for the rest of a marathon week of intoxication but flying all the way to Turkey via a very scenic and long winded route.

A friend drove me to departures straight after lunch and we said our goodbyes. Unusually for Canberra check in took a while because of the attendant's curiosity about my travel plans. Why don't you have a plane ticket booked out of Turkey? Do you have a visa? Iran?! Her line of questioning seemed to extended beyond responsibility and in to some feeling of concern but soon enough my pack was on the conveyor belt, checked right through to Ankara.

I made a couple of last Australian phone calls and got onto the plane destined to Melbourne. It was to be the first leg of many. I had a short change over in Melbourne and yet more intrusive questioning at customs about why I wasn't flying out of Turkey but once I mentioned study in Iran the tone changed from interrogation to curiosity. The guy had some interest in the region because he asked very specific questions about whether I was studying the ancient or modern language and whether I planned to see Isfahan because he'd heard great things about it.

Once I was through customs I started running. My plane had started boarding 25 minutes before. As I reached the gate the status was flashing closing. Just in time.

Entering the UAE

I boarded an uneventful seven-odd hour flight to Singapore, followed by a one hour lay over and an eight hour flight to Dubai. When I arrived in Dubai it was 4:15 in the morning and I had four hours to kill so I passed through immigration, which was very efficient and took all of two minutes, wait time and all. Despite the early hour the air was already thick and warm and before long I begun to feel the sweat running off me. I didn't have too much time so took a shuttle to the terminal where my next flight was supposed to leave and walked around from there. 

Dubai skyline from a terrace near the airport

The mosque I spent most of my time in Dubai at

 In the outskirts of Dubai there's only two things to do. Talk to the “guest” workers who live under incredibly harsh conditions keeping Emirati society afloat and resting at the mosque. On my way into the suburbs I could here a language being spoken that I understood words of so out of curiosity went for a chat. They were Filipino guest workers but one told me his grandfather spoke Spanish as his first language and he started communicating in it with me. His skill level was fairly basic but it was plenty for us to be able to talk about our lives and where we were from.

They took me to the mosque where we lay on the soft, carpeted bit of the porch, out of the already oppressive heat. I stayed for probably forty minutes, lying in silence with my eyes shut or looking up at the ornate drawings on the tiled roof above. I thanked them for taking me with them, I wouldn't have been at all comfortable going and lying down at a mosque in an unfamiliar society alone, then headed back into the airport. I had a one and a half hour wait in the airport alone before my flight because check in and customs took a mere twenty minutes total. Impressively efficient. 

Mist cooling the plane down after 45mins extra baking on the tarmac due to delays

Typical hazy gulf weather between Dubai and Doha

By this stage I pretty much felt dead after a total of sixteen hours flying and six hours in layovers but it was fr from over. My 40min flight to Qatar was delayed by easily the length of the flight itself, then I had an additional four hours in transit, unfortunately not long enough to take advantage of Qatar Airway's free city tour. I spent most of the time kicked back on the airport's ridiculously comfortable bright green couches with a leg area big enough to sleep on. I've never seen another airport as good as Doha's with Macs for communal use, free WiFi, playgrounds, sculptures and high class restaurants along with a large shopping mall.

Despite all this my time in Qatar passed slowly. Intermittent sleep on the plane was far from sufficient to rejuvenate my still hungover feeling body.