I started the day getting free breakfast at the hotel with the sisters. They introduced me to this grape molasses stuff that's apparently very popular in Turkey and then mixed it with tahini, which was actually a great dipping sauce for bread or basically anything else. They had no plans so we walked over to the nearby hill on the east edge of town with a fortress on it that overlooks the city. At the base of the hill are a ton of mosques and other buildings that tell the area's very complicated history - the architecture is diverse and derivative of the many ethnicities that have influenced this part of the country. Many of the more recent buildings in this area are from the late 1800s and are Russian, middling ones are Seljuk or Ottoman, and the oldest ones are Armenian. These churches have largely been converted to mosques and are sometimes accompanied by plaques describing some evil perpetrated by the Armenians in the area, though those descriptions mysteriously cap out around the early 1900s. I saw no explanation for where the Armenians went or what happened to them, but reading between the lines the message seems to be "nothing happened to them, but if it did, they would have deserved it". We stopped at a few of these mosques and got coffee at an old Russian building that's now a hotel, right next to a conservatory from the same era.

The terrain of the area is an extremely far cry from anything I saw in Europe. The red rock and gravelly scree slopes along the hills are strongly reminiscent of the footage from Martian rovers, further contributed to by the lack of much vegetation. Few trees live here and even the small amount of scrubby brush that grows on the hillsides is dead at this time of year. While there are mountains and hills in places, most of the area in the distance is quite flat and reminds of the photos I've seen of central Asia - looking out into the vast plains of the distance, it's easy to envisage the Great Khan's Keshiks sweeping through this region on their horses. This is such a fundamentally different flavor of Turkey from what I'm used to in Istanbul, which is essentially a European city's substrate with an Asian coat of paint. But geographically and historically, Istanbul has always been defined by its relationship to Europe. Kars, on the other hand, has always had stronger ties to the other empires east of the Black Sea (I'm counting the Russians in that since they mostly would have interacted via the Caucasus).

We got tea up at the top of the hill, in one of the castle's old fortifications that's been converted to a little cafe. From here I got a better look at the city and, for whatever reason, found myself reminded of Malden MA. The similarities are limited to their roughly comparable size and layout, since there obviously aren't a whole lot of things in common other than that. Maybe the many 5-6 story apartment buildings too, but Malden doesn't have quite as many stray dogs, mosques, or dilapidated markets. It's not a wealthy city but does seem to be somewhat propped up by a sizeable domestic tourism industry. There are also a few shops named after Russian writers (Pushkin, Dosdoevski), which seems telling. The cafe waiter gave us a huge thing of sunflower seeds - apparently very popular around these parts - and a chess/backgammon board that only included pieces for backgammon. None of us could remember how to play, so it was ignored. We ate sunflower seeds and talked for a few hours until we'd worked our way through the whole basket. I was glad to be talking with people from the country I'm in for once, especially since they were both around my age. That said, their English was limited enough that even with Google Translate's help conversations were difficult and slow. We talked about Turkey's relationships with other countries and I found myself with the impression that most of what was being said lacked nuance, though it was clear that they still hate Armenia. At one point they asked my opinions on American race relations ("Do you like black people?"), and I decided that some conversations are best left untouched when neither party speaks the other's language at above the level of a toddler.

They left for a while to visit an uncle and I went back to the hotel to plan out my route to Georgia. I exchanged some intel with the Brazilian from yesterday (she's going to be here for a few more days so we won't travel together), and it seems that getting to Georgia from here is a huge pain. There are only 2 border crossings, and the only way to get even close to one by public means is to go to the crossing at the Black Sea coastline. The one that's much closer to Kars (and Tbilisi) is totally inaccessible if you don't have a personal vehicle, so it seems like I'll have to make my way up to the far crossing, then get to Batumi across the border, and then get from there to Tbilisi across the entire country. I considered hitchhiking to the near crossing, but given the challenges that's posed in the past, the lack of major cities and presumably traffic on either side of the border there, and my relative proximity to some rather American-unfriendly countries, I hope it doesn't have to come to that. It's unclear whether there's a good way to cross the border itself even at the Black Sea, so I may have to hitchhike the short distance between Hopa and Batumi. There's a train from Batumi to Tbilisi that leaves at 5:20, but I'm doubtful I'll be able to make it there in time to catch that. I think a lot of this will be figured out by asking at bus stations, since the Internet seems to be a frontier for the people of this region and I'm skeptical of the quality of info I can get online.

I met back up with the sisters at a nearby restaurant which was hosting a Caucasian dance night. Before that they had some minstrels playing saz and having what was apparently the Turkish equivalent of a rap battle, though it was of course entirely lost on me. My bewildered expression and red hair betrayed my status as a tourist and one of the minstrels asked one of the sisters where I was from. From then on I'd occasionally hear "Americano" in their song. The restaurant was apparently "expensive", though I paid about $11 for an enormous meal with multiple courses. I'd have liked to get the region's famous goose, but that was actually fairly expensive. The main was a version of meat dumplings that I'd always thought were a Russian thing, but it also came with some apricots in syrup, yogurt, pickles, salad, and a fibrous cheese that tasted sort of like provolone. The dancers showed up a few minutes after the minstrels left and performed for maybe an hour. It was really impressive and they did a routine for almost every ethnic group in the Caucasus - Georgian, Azerbaijani, Abkhazian, Turkish - with the obvious exception of Armenia. The dancing was frantic and reminded me a little of the Bulgarian routine I saw except generally much more fast paced and kinetic. There was a whole section where a guy would throw flaming knives at a plank held over another guy lying down, and then did it again while blindfolded. There were definitely some cultural references I was missing, including a female dancer that was meant to reference the "blonde bride" motif, according to Google Translate's interpretation of the sisters' commentary. I couldn't find anything about that though so I think it might not be a great translation. Overall, a very impressive performance, great food, and an overall great final day in Turkey.

I finalized plans by having the sisters talk to the guy at the hotel desk about travel to Georgia. Sounds like I'll have to get across the city to visit the bus station and then take the bus north around 10. Really looking forward to Georgia of course, but this is likely to take all day. I'm hoping to make it to Tbilisi, but it's possible I spend the night in Batumi if nothing else makes sense.