Trabzon #4: Guztepe and some Stupidity (07/01/2026)
- farhandalan2
- Jan 7
- 5 min read
"Biz de umreye gideceğiz. Nasip olursa bir hafta sonra."
Baba shouts it on my phone. He did not have to do that, though, but I guess Google Translate was not really popular in their generation.
The application started working.
"We will also be going on Umrah. God willing, in a week." I read it quietly.
I was stunting for a second. I mean, stunning with this news.
And then happily congratulate him with all the languages I had on my mind.
"Congratulation. Selamat. Marhaba. Tesyekur ederim. Cok Gutzel!"
Although he did not understand my point, I believed he got the idea because now he was smiling happily.
I just arrived at a mosque for Maghrib after finishing my trip today to Güztepe. This famous spot was not so far from my hotel, more or less 30 minutes walking, or climbing to be specific, since it was located on the peak of the hill. From this point, we could see the whole of Trabzon city, from the highway, until the coast.
At first, I had this place and another spot, Ataturk Cosce, as my two main goals for today.
The latter-mentioned site, I failed to reach that, and the story behind that was too silly.
In the morning, after reserving a trip to Sumela from a tour travel close to my hotel (the price 950 lira was quite crazy compared with what a usual trip could cost us (300 lira)), I walked alone to reach a bus station on the coastal part of Trabzon.
It was around 15 minutes walking, and the scenery was really amazing.
Reaching the shore, I lost my intention and just directly relaxed on a bench installed facing the Black Sea. It was a perfect spot to calm your mind, viewing only the ocean without any limit.
A boat was coming closer with fishermen holding their fishing rods. I guess they had a nice day, looking at their happy faces.
As I held my head, I pictured the sky.
Clouds moved slowly, birds chased each other, and I silently sat under. I was thinking, is there any way that I would be here again, maybe someday, looking at the same sky in the same spot?
What would be different? Would I still walk by myself? Would this bench still exist here? Would the birds still chase each other? What about the fishermen's boat? Were they gonna be here as well? What about my jeans? Should I buy a new one? But I love this pants.
After that quiet evaluation with myself, I realized something. I had been sitting there long enough. The sun was rising higher.
Reality called again. Plans, unfinished.
So I stood up, brushed off the salt air from my jacket, and went back to my initial plan, finding a bus to Atatürk Pavilion. Let's go!
Waiting, Asking, Failing
I reached the bus stop and waited.
Five minutes. Ten minutes. Thirty minutes.
And then, nothing.
I tried asking a baba nearby. I spoke slowly. Used hand gestures. Pointed at my phone. He replied confidently, in Turkish, of course, with long sentences and strong hand movements.
"Evet, evet." That was the only word I could grab from him.
We both nodded at the end. Neither of us understood anything. But I said Ataturk Cosca several times, so I guess he told me something about it. Perhaps.
Eventually, the bus arrived. Relief.
I climbed in, sat down, opened my map, and followed the route carefully. Everything looked pretty right. Ten minutes passed. Elders started to come inside, and some left the buses. Store by store, were passed. The famous Trabzon fortress was beside us during traffic. I watched it closely, thinking about how the battle was in the past.
The bus kept going. I calmly sat while holding my phone. The line path to my point was still quite long.
Then suddenly—
The bus turned back. Like, fully turned back.
My heart jumped.
"Wait. This is not in the plan."
I looked around. No one panicked. No one questioned it. Everyone just accepted the turn like this was a normal life event.
I panicked quietly.
Wait, wait, wait. Do I need to stop? But the Pavilion was still far to walk by. But if I did nothing, this bus could have driven longer, and the distance would be further.
After a few moments of internal debate, I surrendered. I stayed on the bus until it returned me close to my original stop.
Sometimes, giving up is not a weakness. It's navigation. Ataturk Pavilion did not respond to my call. Perhaps this bus was the answer.
Or it was just me, too lazy to stop the driver.
A Short Uncomfortable Encounter
I got off the bus near my hotel.
I need to cross the highway, and I saw stairs to go down. It was a quiet tunnel I was facing, dark, moist, and wet.
That’s when a lady approached me. She spoke softly, offering something I immediately understood, despite the language gap. I paused for a second. Not confused. Just… aware.
I looked at her. Not with fear. Not with anger. With just pity.
I shook my head gently and said no. She offered the second one. I walked away, waving my hand.
She nodded. No drama. No pressure. Just another quiet exchange between two strangers carrying very different lives.
Travel exposes you to realities you don’t see in postcards.
Climbing to Güztepe
I decided to continue the day.
I gave up on buses. Now, I would put everything on my leg. Just walking.
Now, we started the journey to Güztepe.
Thirty minutes of climbing. Not walking, climbing. My breath got heavier. My legs complained. The road started testing my intention.
On some stairs close to Kizlar Manastiri, I came across a pack of tourist mothers. One of them asked me to take their picture in front of a gate.
"Wow, Indonesia! I love Indonesia." One mom praised my country once I gave her phone back.
"Thanks! Trabzon is also lovely." I pass back her words since she was from Trabzon.
"Hahaha. Thanks. I will be going to Indonesia if I have a chance." She replied.
"Yeah, call me if you need someone to take your picture there," I answered. We laughed together.
"Guztepe?" A boy appeared from a door. I nod.
"Walk, then left, okay, sir?" He pointed out a path. I put my head following his command. I saw a gate with a stair.
"Tesekur Ederim, boy! And bye-bye, ladies." I said that and waved my hand to the boy and the mom's group.
Now, the stair part. I pulled myself, and now my legs felt heavier.
With every step higher, the city unfolded below me again. Buildings shrank. Sounds softened. My perspective widened.
When I finally reached the top, the fatigue disappeared quietly. The view took over. Trabzon stretched beneath me, from highways to coastline, alive, complex, beautiful.
Standing there, I felt something familiar.
Not achievement. Not pride.
Just presence.
And a yeay was at the end of our story today!
With a cappuccino offered by a waiter in the local coffeehouse, and Happy song by Mocca on my ears, my evening was just perfect.
I spent my whole time until sunset on the bench, viewing a bird's perspective on this beautiful city.
Wham, I really was grateful for today!
You know, some days did not go according to plan.
But they still gave you exactly what you need. Perhaps. Hahahaha.
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