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Nusaybin

A short bus ride from Diyarbakir, Mardin was supposed to be a gem. I guess I caught them on a bad day. Piles of rubbish blocked entire streets and the entire town stunk. If you looked past this (or smelt past it?) there was some merit in the claim. The town was perched on the side of a hill giving views of the endless plains below, unfortunately the visibility was far from endless. Like other towns the main sites were old churches and mosques. From here I caught a bus to Nusaybin. Nothing spectacular in itself just a necessary stop before crossing the Syrian border. In another example of locals doing everything they could to help when i asked the hotel cleric a question that went beyond his English he rang his brother in Istanbul to translate for us.
Tomorrow I cross the border into Syria. Don't worry mum it'll be ok.
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