It still hasn't stopped raining and the weather is making me a bit fed up. I decide that despite this fact I will meet Mehmet, my guide, and we will try and set off. The weather is so bad that I can hardly even see Mount Ararat which is a huge disappointment. Nevertheless we set off, after numerous cups of tea and head to the famous, but under-visited Ishak Pasha Palace. The palace was built by a rather brutal Ottoman overlord Ishak Pasha in the 1780s to help in his control over the former "Silk Road" trade route that was still essentially in use. It had hundreds of rooms, and a notably large Harem which accommodated his 29 wives plus other, however most of these rooms have collapsed. Ishak Pasha harshly ordered slaves to collect stones even as far as Mount Ararat and then carve them beautifully into a truly decorative palace.Then, to proevent them copying the designs, he had them blinded and their arms broken. Sadly it has been occupied at various times by Turkish and then Russian troops to bad effect on the place. However recent restoration work makes for impressive viewing. (More details at http://www.kulturturizm.gov.tr/portal/default_en.asp?belgeno=623).

Nearby is an even older (approx 2500 yrs) Urartian castle that although mostly ruined, still clings to the cliff face. The area, perched on a moutnain overlooking modern Dougubeyazit, was an Armenian Christian site however the church was knocked down and an abandoned mosque now fills its place. From here we drove to a nearby Kurdish village whose name I will put up when I remember! The dirt track road had turned into a river and made for dangerous driving. However, with a bit of pushing the vehicle, we made it eventually. The underinvestment in infrastructure is clear - the government are building a new road to the touristy Palace but not to the surrounding villages. The first thing you notice in Kurdish villages is the enormous numbers of children, who should have been at school, but who were running around and playing. Then you realise that the only other people around are elderly mothers and grandparents. The young seem to have moved out to the city where life promises more leaving many single-floor houses abandoned, and the village population in decline.

Mehmet angrily curses the government's lack of interest in the region and the fact that the school struggles to obtain teachers and equipment. He cannot believe that Turkey may go into Europe while the children we meet here go around wearing old clothes and shoes with holes in them. The west of Turkey, he feels, has forgotten the Kurds to a large extent. I can see how easily such emotions can be aroused from the evidence I have seen in the village. The children are curious as to my arrival and crowd around. Mehmet translates for me as we go through th ritual of name asking and hand shaking while taking photos. Before we leave I ask, through Mehmet, what the children want to do when they grow up. The answers inevitably vary from being teachers to drivers. One boy though says he dreams of one day becoming a doctor, something I find very admirable but know how difficult it will be for him to follow his dream without proper education. Another child says he wants to play football... for Fenerbahce, which lightens my spirits at least. Not one of them is interested in staying in the village and farming - which suggests that in a decade or two these beautifully situated Kurdish villages may be a thing of a past leaving behind only ghostly ruins.

The road gets bad and the bus begins to slide from side to side. It is too dangerous to continue and so we turn around and head back for lunch by the side of the road. Our next stop is to what scientists have named the petrified wood remains of Noah's Ark which is believed to have settled in the Ararat range of mountains. It is an intriguing ruin which basically just looks like a line of rock in an arc shape. However the collected evidence does make for a compelling if slightly dubious claim! We then drove to the Iranian border to look at the disappointing meteor crater that is probably just a thing of nature, before returning back to Dogubeyazit.

Of course, as is the custom here, Mehmet and his friend Hakan decided that I should have more tea, followed by some beers in the evening - well they were the last (legal) ones I could have before entering Iran where alcohol is, of course, forbidden.