Babes in Turkland: Unsung Bursa

Our idea of a break was to go to Gebze for the day, exploring the Anabal hardware store, our favorite tile retailer, the ladies’ clothing stores at the Gebze Center Mall, then on to the lovely Şüsler Perde curtain store, where we had tea with our friend Fatih Genç, one of the owners. After oohing and aahing over the beautiful fabrics, tassels, beads, fringes and other delights on display, Fatih took us to what we think is Gebze’s finest restaurant, Tandırci, for a late lunch. The creamy buffalo yogurt, homemade puffy bread and one of the specialties of the house, buryan kebabı, were even better than the last time we were there. Buryan kebabı is the succulent result of hanging big pieces of lamb from hooks then lowering them into a chamber in the earth with a fire underneath it, and is most associated with the province of Siirt, in southeastern Turkey. We could barely roll ourselves into Fatih’s car for the trip back. Needless to say, I didn’t have to cook anyone dinner that night.

Having recharged our family’s batteries with Gebze-hopping and some of the best food on the planet, we hooked up with Fatih and his car again to go across the water to Bursa. One of the great things about having visitors who had no expectations at all as to what to see in Turkey was that we could take them only to places we like to go, and not to “must-sees” from the guidebooks. We love going to Bursa, and while lots of tourists go to there, they are usually on the way to or from somewhere else, from points north or south. While Bursa is changing as much as Istanbul in terms of the huge Ikea near the bus station and several multi-story malls in the chic, modern downtown, there is enough of the old Ottoman capital left to make it a destination all on its own. We only had a day’s trip planned; we chose our favorite few things so that we’d all have time to enjoy them.

To get to Bursa from here, we took the Yalova ferry, as it is called, although it actually lands at Topçular, named for some long-forgotten cannon makers. Our ferry ride was perfect, with the crisp December weather cooperating, with blue sky and pretty clouds here and there. The seagulls had their winter appetites at the ready, and were happy to take food from one’s fingers. Our Marmara gulls have very strong shoulders to hold their place in the wind long enough for the silly humans to feed them simit and töst. I believe they are a bit more patient than, and probably not as spoiled as, the seagulls on the Bosporus, but that might be my local loyalties talking. As we neared the southern shore of the Marmara, we got back into Fatih’s car and prepared for the crazy mini-road-race endemic to every Turkish car ferry I have ever been on. It was fun to be inside a car, terrorizing the poor pedestrians, (although not on purpose, of course) instead of being the ones terrorized. I have no idea why it is so necessary to speed as fast as possible over the few hundred meters involved, when there is virtually no chance of getting ahead of anyone because of the lanes drivers (for once) have to stay in, but speed they do. Joaquin and Bonnie were appropriately impressed at this demonstration of derring-do from non-taxi-driving citizens.

Arriving in Bursa

Traffic was fine on this weekday, and we were in Bursa in less than an hour from the ferry terminal. (We had stopped at the fabulous Yalova Pazar, of which I have written for this page, but I don’t want to talk about it because they have decided to build a big building where the pazar was, and now it is in a back street and not covered anymore, and it was so disappointing. That was the best bazaar in Turkey, I would bet my life on it, with the same stallholders there year after year, and now its former home is an abandoned mess. So don’t go there.) We decided to visit first Bursa’s revived Ottoman village, Cumalıkızık, just a short way up Mount Uludağ, but high enough to be chillier than in the city. Cumalıkızık’s history goes back to the earliest days of the empire and has a fascinating back-story involving feuding families and seven sisters marrying seven brothers. Its modern history is extremely interesting from a socioeconomic/gender roles point of view, but that is for another time. It is now most famous for being a filming location for Turkish soap operas, and on previous trips we had seen busloads of Turkish ladies arriving there to have their pictures taken in a favorite soap locale. After years of visiting here we have seen many changes, but Cumalıkızık still retains its Hansel-and-Gretel atmosphere in any season. The persimmons, raspberries and apples were gone by December, but the fairy-tale images were in some ways enhanced; the winter light put the stones of the streets and walls into high relief, with no summer vines and foliage to obscure them. The villagers pretty much stayed in their homes but would pop out at sight of a tourist, and serve tea in their courtyards, although not stick around while it was drunk. Drinking hot tea in a cold, abandoned 13th-century mortar-less stone courtyard, with a sloping floor, overhung by the house above, knowing there are people there one can’t see, is a deliciously creepy experience not available everywhere. With its backdrop of chestnut and apple orchards, this little village entertained Fatih as well as Joaq and Bonnie with its movie-set beauty as well as its mysterious, brooding winter ambiance.

After a delightful light lunch at the incomparable Mavi Bocuk Pansyon (stuffed grape leaves, raspberry juice from last summer’s frozen fresh fruit, and erışte noodles with walnuts and butter), we descended the mountain into central Bursa. We went next to the Koza Han, the old Ottoman caravansary with its own baby mosque. The two-story colonnaded shopping area is one of the finest anywhere, with places to drink tea in the courtyard and exquisite silk scarves for sale in at least 50 shops. Bonnie was especially looking for, and found (of course), lightweight scarves with a diagonal long enough to work into her own waist-length braids. The ones we got were in the most luscious, vibrant jewel tones, very cheap, and real silk. Unfortunately, they were that frail silk that snags if you look at it, but for the amazing colors, elegant patterns and generous size, a few snags seemed a small price to pay.

After tea at the Koza Han, we ended our Bursa visit at my favorite Otttoman tomb, that of Sultan Çelebi Mehmet, or Mehmet I. He was the son of Beyazit the Thunderbolt and the father of Sultan Murad II, who was the father of Fatih Sultan Mehmet. Mehmet I was born in Bursa but died in Edirne; his son Murad commissioned his tomb in the city of his birth, so there he is buried. The tomb itself was much beloved of Osman Hamdi Bey, probably, aside from some exciting structural details, because of the lovely color of the green tiles covering much of the interior, which are greener than those adorning the exterior. Also decorating the interior of the tomb are İznik tiles, although from an earlier period than those found in the Rustem Paşa and Sultan Ahmet mosques. Several (maybe all) of Mehmet’s children are interred there with him, and I find the tombs of the daughters, especially, all in a neat little row, very touching. The tomb has recently undergone a complete renovation, and the job was very nicely done. The paned, wood-framed windows in particular are in excellent shape. This was the oldest (A.D. 1421) Ottoman structure the kids had seen, and the first Ottoman tomb, and they seemed to be appropriately intrigued, although with material like that, it would be hard not to be fascinated.

We soon reversed our trip, stopping off at the relocated Yalova Pazar to do a little shopping. In one leisurely day, thanks in no small part to the use of Fatih’s car, they fed seagulls, saw a destroyed historic market setting, visited an ancient Ottoman village and ate some village gourmet food, shopped in an historic Silk Road caravansary, saw the burial place of the fifth Ottoman sultan and picked up some souvenirs. Not bad for a day-trip to the former Imperial capital of the Ottoman Empire, in the under-sung municipality of Bursa.

*Elsie Alan lives in Gebze with her husband.