The old city of Mardin is perched on a hill that overlooks the south towards the Syrian border. A commanding view that followed us as we roamed through the streets, up until very late at night, when we settled at Emrah’s place, our couchsurfing host, for a surprising session of folk music. Mardin dresses in a pleasant ochre. Narrow streets and small square houses draw a maze that take us through architectural surprises.
Diyarbakır is a huge city of over a million people. The bus was about to leave from Mardin but we decided to stick a finger up the twelve liras the driver was asking and try to hitch-hike. Luck stroke as a dodgy looking Mercedes van upholstered in leather stopped and took the six of us. Loud disco music and not much talk from the driver, who looked like a pimp and acted like one, but was actually a policeman driving to Diyarbakır to start his shift. Like Mardin, Diyarbakır comes to life in the old city. Beautiful mosques, run down streets, dust, dirt and lively bazaars.