What do you think?
Rate this book
Longue Marche #1
Out of Istanbul: A Journey of Discovery along the Silk Road
Acclaimed journalist Bernard Ollivier begins his epic journey on foot across the Silk Road.
Upon retirement at the age of sixty-two, and grieving his deceased wife, renowned journalist Bernard Ollivier felt a sense of profound emptiness: What do I do now? While some see retirement as a chance to cash in their chips and settle into a comfy armchair, Ollivier still longed for more. Searching for inspiration, he strapped on his gear, donned his hat, and headed out the front door to hike the Way of St. James, a 1400-mile journey from Paris to Compostela, Spain. At the end of that road, with more questions than answers, he decided to spend the next few years hiking another of history’s great routes: the Silk Road.
Out of Istanbul is Ollivier’s stunning account of the first part of that 7,200-mile journey. The longest and perhaps most mythical trade route of all time, the Silk Road is in fact a network of routes across Europe and Asia, some going back to prehistoric times. During the Middle Ages, the transcribed travelogue of one Silk Road explorer, Marco Polo, helped spread the fame of the Orient throughout Europe.
Heading east out of Istanbul, Ollivier takes readers step by step across Anatolia and Kurdistan, bound for Tehran. Along the way, we meet a colorful array of real-life characters: Selim, the philosophical woodsman; old Behçet, elated to practice English after years of self-study; Krishna, manager of the Lora Pansiyon in Polonez, a village of Polish immigrants; the hospitable Kurdish women of Dogutepe, and many more. We accompany Ollivier as he explores bazaars, mosques, and caravansaries—true vestiges of the Silk Road itself—and through these encounters and experiences, gains insight into the complex political and social issues facing modern-day Turkey.
Ollivier’s journey, far from bragging about some tremendous achievement, humbly takes the reader on a colossal adventure of human proportions, one in which walking itself, through a kind of alchemy, fosters friendships and fellowship.
Upon retirement at the age of sixty-two, and grieving his deceased wife, renowned journalist Bernard Ollivier felt a sense of profound emptiness: What do I do now? While some see retirement as a chance to cash in their chips and settle into a comfy armchair, Ollivier still longed for more. Searching for inspiration, he strapped on his gear, donned his hat, and headed out the front door to hike the Way of St. James, a 1400-mile journey from Paris to Compostela, Spain. At the end of that road, with more questions than answers, he decided to spend the next few years hiking another of history’s great routes: the Silk Road.
Out of Istanbul is Ollivier’s stunning account of the first part of that 7,200-mile journey. The longest and perhaps most mythical trade route of all time, the Silk Road is in fact a network of routes across Europe and Asia, some going back to prehistoric times. During the Middle Ages, the transcribed travelogue of one Silk Road explorer, Marco Polo, helped spread the fame of the Orient throughout Europe.
Heading east out of Istanbul, Ollivier takes readers step by step across Anatolia and Kurdistan, bound for Tehran. Along the way, we meet a colorful array of real-life characters: Selim, the philosophical woodsman; old Behçet, elated to practice English after years of self-study; Krishna, manager of the Lora Pansiyon in Polonez, a village of Polish immigrants; the hospitable Kurdish women of Dogutepe, and many more. We accompany Ollivier as he explores bazaars, mosques, and caravansaries—true vestiges of the Silk Road itself—and through these encounters and experiences, gains insight into the complex political and social issues facing modern-day Turkey.
Ollivier’s journey, far from bragging about some tremendous achievement, humbly takes the reader on a colossal adventure of human proportions, one in which walking itself, through a kind of alchemy, fosters friendships and fellowship.
347 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2000
376 people are currently reading
1047 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 85 reviews
October 9, 2019
This book was a pretty random pickup on an e-book deal. But I liked the idea of someone physically walking the silk road, determined to experience the country and the culture on foot, slowly (even though the guy was a machine and walked 30km+ per day).
It partially resonated also because I've started walking – for physical exercise but also as an opportunity to think and be quieted at the end of a busy day. In so doing, I've discovered my town in a way I've never encountered it before. There's definitely something to it and I have fantasies of huge, long distance hiking trips now (which are unlikely at the most optimistic times).
In any case, this was inspiring, and interesting to read. It took me a while, for a variety of reasons, but the pace almost matched the "slow down and walk" mentality of the author...
It partially resonated also because I've started walking – for physical exercise but also as an opportunity to think and be quieted at the end of a busy day. In so doing, I've discovered my town in a way I've never encountered it before. There's definitely something to it and I have fantasies of huge, long distance hiking trips now (which are unlikely at the most optimistic times).
In any case, this was inspiring, and interesting to read. It took me a while, for a variety of reasons, but the pace almost matched the "slow down and walk" mentality of the author...
May 13, 2020
This was a disappointing read because the author is quite ignorant of the culture, history, and social issues of the country that he was walking across (Turkey).
The author actually does a decent job of describing his experiences, landscape and the characters that he met along the journey. But as soon as he starts to comment and pass judgements on the culture, history, and socio-political issues of the country, he quickly goes off the rails because there are some glaring errors and misconceptions throughout, and some are comical. The author is clearly not knowledgeable or qualified to dwell in those issues.
The author keeps referring to some vague area (not defined or described) in eastern Anatolia as “Kurdistan”. This term is a relict from the pre-WW1 period when the British-Franco colonials took over the territories which have been under the jurisdiction Ottoman Empire for about 500 years and divided them arbitrarily. Eastern Anatolia was the heartland of the Seljuk Turks going back to about a thousand years, as many architectural marvels in the form mosques, caravanserais, mausoleums, etc. will attest to it. Going back to time immemorial, there was never a “Kurdistan” per se as a sovereign entity in the area, even though ethnic Kurds existed as a majority in some pockets of population during the Ottoman Empire and later in the Turkish Republican period. Currently, large numbers of ethnic Kurds reside in big cities and towns throughout Turkey and participate in the local and National governments as elected officials, professionals, businessman, and so on, and definitely are not sympathetic to a hard core terrorist organization like PKK.
One must wonder about the motivation of a foreign writer to produce such a misinformed piece of work about a country that he is visiting. Do not waste your time on this one. Not recommended.
The author actually does a decent job of describing his experiences, landscape and the characters that he met along the journey. But as soon as he starts to comment and pass judgements on the culture, history, and socio-political issues of the country, he quickly goes off the rails because there are some glaring errors and misconceptions throughout, and some are comical. The author is clearly not knowledgeable or qualified to dwell in those issues.
The author keeps referring to some vague area (not defined or described) in eastern Anatolia as “Kurdistan”. This term is a relict from the pre-WW1 period when the British-Franco colonials took over the territories which have been under the jurisdiction Ottoman Empire for about 500 years and divided them arbitrarily. Eastern Anatolia was the heartland of the Seljuk Turks going back to about a thousand years, as many architectural marvels in the form mosques, caravanserais, mausoleums, etc. will attest to it. Going back to time immemorial, there was never a “Kurdistan” per se as a sovereign entity in the area, even though ethnic Kurds existed as a majority in some pockets of population during the Ottoman Empire and later in the Turkish Republican period. Currently, large numbers of ethnic Kurds reside in big cities and towns throughout Turkey and participate in the local and National governments as elected officials, professionals, businessman, and so on, and definitely are not sympathetic to a hard core terrorist organization like PKK.
One must wonder about the motivation of a foreign writer to produce such a misinformed piece of work about a country that he is visiting. Do not waste your time on this one. Not recommended.
October 13, 2023
In 1999, sixty-one-year-old French journalist Bernard Ollivier set out on a trek across Türkiye, following in the footsteps of Marco Polo on the Silk Road. This is the first of three books published about his journey. It covers his experiences traveling on foot from Istanbul to the Iranian border. It is based on diary entries he wrote as he traveled, sending the manuscripts back to France possible. He recounts the difficulties he encountered, including a few he might have anticipated with better planning, as well as the hospitality of the Turkish people. Toward the end of this leg of the journey, he found himself in peril related to the Turkish-Kurdish conflict in the region. His account contains a dramatic and unexpected conclusion.
Ollivier provides descriptions of the landscape, the people he meets, the physical challenges, cultural practices, and language barriers. This book is more of an account of Ollivier’s personal journey and does not contain much about the history of Marco Polo’s expedition, though he mentions several other early Arab travelers that I plan to check out. I am amazed that he embarked on such a journey with so little knowledge of the language. It must have been incredibly difficult. He was occasionally able to communicate in French or English. I had become curious to learn more about this region after watching a recent multi-part documentary about the Silk Road, and I found it interesting to compare the two chronicles completed almost twenty years apart.
Ollivier provides descriptions of the landscape, the people he meets, the physical challenges, cultural practices, and language barriers. This book is more of an account of Ollivier’s personal journey and does not contain much about the history of Marco Polo’s expedition, though he mentions several other early Arab travelers that I plan to check out. I am amazed that he embarked on such a journey with so little knowledge of the language. It must have been incredibly difficult. He was occasionally able to communicate in French or English. I had become curious to learn more about this region after watching a recent multi-part documentary about the Silk Road, and I found it interesting to compare the two chronicles completed almost twenty years apart.
October 13, 2021
For me, 'Out of Istanbul' by Bernard Ollivier was a disappointment. I found large portions of the book somewhat of a struggle to complete. I don't feel that the story lived up to the jacket's claim: "We accompany Ollivier as he explores bazaars, mosques, and caravansaries—true vestiges of the Silk Road itself—and through these encounters and experiences, gains insight into the complex political and social issues facing modern-day Turkey." Ollivier often becomes completely (and at times arrogantly) self-absorbed in his own tribulations, missing the bigger pictures of Turkish society. I'm sure he meticulously planned this journey, but too often he seemed poorly prepared and to ignore local advice and venture into trouble.
This is the first book of a well-received trilogy, so I hesitate for anyone to reject Ollivier's accounting of his epic journey based on my reaction to this single book. Other reviewers had much different reactions.
This is the first book of a well-received trilogy, so I hesitate for anyone to reject Ollivier's accounting of his epic journey based on my reaction to this single book. Other reviewers had much different reactions.
October 6, 2023
Bernard Ollivier, a recently retired journalist who is grieving his wife and struggling with what to do with his life next says
I still stubbornly crave fresh encounters, new faces, and new lives. I still dream of the faraway steppe, of wind and rain on my face, of basking in the heat of different suns.
Ollivier first did a walking pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago and then realizing that he still craved another walking adventure he says:
"As I neared the end of my journey, drunk on the fragrance of Galicia’s eucalyptus forests, I promised myself that, for as long as my strength would allow, I would continue to walk the world’s pathways. And what path could be more inspiring, more impassioned, more infused with history than the Great Silk Road?"
Out of Istanbul: A Journey of Discovery along the Silk Road is the story of the first part of his journey through Turkey on the Silk Road.
I enjoy armchair traveling with Bernard. He can be charming, stubborn and a bit too cocky at times, but he is a social creature and introduces us to individuals along the way. He also brings a bit of history, a look at the landscape and an understanding of the culture into the book.
I still stubbornly crave fresh encounters, new faces, and new lives. I still dream of the faraway steppe, of wind and rain on my face, of basking in the heat of different suns.
Ollivier first did a walking pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago and then realizing that he still craved another walking adventure he says:
"As I neared the end of my journey, drunk on the fragrance of Galicia’s eucalyptus forests, I promised myself that, for as long as my strength would allow, I would continue to walk the world’s pathways. And what path could be more inspiring, more impassioned, more infused with history than the Great Silk Road?"
Out of Istanbul: A Journey of Discovery along the Silk Road is the story of the first part of his journey through Turkey on the Silk Road.
I enjoy armchair traveling with Bernard. He can be charming, stubborn and a bit too cocky at times, but he is a social creature and introduces us to individuals along the way. He also brings a bit of history, a look at the landscape and an understanding of the culture into the book.
October 8, 2020
Well sadly, I just couldn't keep going - found it very monotonous but maybe that was the point?! I just didn't felt I cared enough about his journey, it all seemed a little self-indulgent. Maybe I'll give it another crack when there is nothing else to read....
October 27, 2020
Not really sure how to rate this one. I've always wanted to visit Turkey, but after reading this book, I'm not to sure now. The book paints a bleak picture of Turkey and the Turkish people. I also found the author's arrogance a bit annoying.
August 8, 2025
En 1999, pour occuper sa retraite, après avoir fait le chemin de Compostelle, Bernard Ollivier, ancien journaliste, se décide à faire le trajet de la route de la soie à pied. Enfin, un des trajets. Il est fasciné par cet itinéraire commercial, les caravansérails, les problématiques logistiques ou de sécurité. Malheureusement, ce trajet n’est pas valorisé. Rien n’est fait en Turquie à l’époque pour mettre en valeur un patrimoine qui semble aux locaux absolument sans aucun intérêt. Les édifices sont pillés et l'itinérare n’est même pas indiqué. De nombreux villageois ne savent vraiment pas de quoi parle l’auteur et où se trouvent les dernières traces des caravaniers. A chaque arrêt, on lui pose des questions triviales comme le montant de sa retraite, la valeur de sa montre, de son sac, du billet d’avion… Les turcs ne semblent être intéressés que par l’argent, la religion et la soumission de leur femme. Ils sont quasiment tous incultes et quand il ne font pas montre de piété, ils essaient de voler l’appareil photo, le passeport ou carrément le sac entier de Bernard Ollivier. Malgré quelques belles rencontres, j’ai trouvé ce voyage et donc ce livre, pénibles et les turcs détestables.
June 1, 2021
I was fascinated by this book by French journalist Bernard Ollivier, an account of the first part of his journey – on foot – along the route of the ancient Silk Road, beginning in 1999. I felt as though I was with him every step of the way from Istanbul across Turkey to the point just miles from the Iranian border where he unfortunately became ill and had to return to France to recover.
His descriptions of the scenery, villages and towns, his encounters with local people, his emotions and his physical condition are so vivid and compelling that I felt as though I was there. As an American Jew, I know I would never be allowed to enter Iran (even Ollivier had a very limited visa) when the time came. His continued walk will be covered in the next installment of the three covering his experiences in Central Asia.
Ollivier was 62 when he set off, a recent widower, and recently retired from his career as a political and economic journalist. He had recently completed a walk from France to the Shrine of St. James in Spain (Santiago de Compostela), though he did not do it for religious reasons, but for the experience of the journey.
To begin his trek along the Silk Road, Ollivier took a train to Venice, where Marco Polo began his expedition to China a thousand or so years ago, then a ferry across the Adriatic, before starting to walk from Istanbul. Once he began his trek, even though he was in good physical condition, he had problems with his boots until his feet became accustomed to them, but when they healed, he was able to cover astonishing distances nearly every day, stopping in small towns and villages to eat, sleep and purchase supplies. Once he left Istanbul and its more modern environs, he found some less than appealing conditions in certain places, though there were Internet cafés and banks where he could use an ATM card...but often the off the beaten track places he visited were fairly primitive by our American and European standards.
He spoke barely a few words of Turkish, but encountered English speakers (and very few French speakers) along the way with whom he could communicate when needed, but most of the time he was on his own. He had many heartwarming but fleeting moments with the Turkish people he met, but there were occasional moments of danger, and in the Kurdish areas to the East, closer to the Iranian border, the danger increased, along with the poverty. Despite that, until he was barely a day's walk to Iran, and contracted a serious case of amoebic dysentery, the trip was enormously rewarding.
For all those who are dedicated travelers and consider themselves citizens of the larger world, Ollivier's journey will be rich with the allure of the open road and of the experiences that beckon from afar. A walk across countries such as Turkey, Iran and other politically challenging regions is not for everyone, but even if our travel to those places must be more of the armchair variety, we can still savor Ollivier's experiences, and enjoy his vivid, first person account of his astonishing trek.
His descriptions of the scenery, villages and towns, his encounters with local people, his emotions and his physical condition are so vivid and compelling that I felt as though I was there. As an American Jew, I know I would never be allowed to enter Iran (even Ollivier had a very limited visa) when the time came. His continued walk will be covered in the next installment of the three covering his experiences in Central Asia.
Ollivier was 62 when he set off, a recent widower, and recently retired from his career as a political and economic journalist. He had recently completed a walk from France to the Shrine of St. James in Spain (Santiago de Compostela), though he did not do it for religious reasons, but for the experience of the journey.
To begin his trek along the Silk Road, Ollivier took a train to Venice, where Marco Polo began his expedition to China a thousand or so years ago, then a ferry across the Adriatic, before starting to walk from Istanbul. Once he began his trek, even though he was in good physical condition, he had problems with his boots until his feet became accustomed to them, but when they healed, he was able to cover astonishing distances nearly every day, stopping in small towns and villages to eat, sleep and purchase supplies. Once he left Istanbul and its more modern environs, he found some less than appealing conditions in certain places, though there were Internet cafés and banks where he could use an ATM card...but often the off the beaten track places he visited were fairly primitive by our American and European standards.
He spoke barely a few words of Turkish, but encountered English speakers (and very few French speakers) along the way with whom he could communicate when needed, but most of the time he was on his own. He had many heartwarming but fleeting moments with the Turkish people he met, but there were occasional moments of danger, and in the Kurdish areas to the East, closer to the Iranian border, the danger increased, along with the poverty. Despite that, until he was barely a day's walk to Iran, and contracted a serious case of amoebic dysentery, the trip was enormously rewarding.
For all those who are dedicated travelers and consider themselves citizens of the larger world, Ollivier's journey will be rich with the allure of the open road and of the experiences that beckon from afar. A walk across countries such as Turkey, Iran and other politically challenging regions is not for everyone, but even if our travel to those places must be more of the armchair variety, we can still savor Ollivier's experiences, and enjoy his vivid, first person account of his astonishing trek.
November 13, 2012
Lettura davvero piacevole.
L'arzillo signor Ollivier, giornalista in pensione, decide di imbarcarsi nell'impresa che ha sempre sognato: lui, gran camminatore, ha tutta l'intenzione di percorrere a piedi la proverbiale via della seta. A tappe, naturalmente, senza fretta, ma rispettando una precisa tabella di marcia.
E così, dopo la morte della moglie, con i figli ormai grandi che ancora tentano di dissuaderlo, un bel giorno di primavera parte.
In questo primo libro Ollivier racconta la prima parte del viaggio da Istanbul fino al confine iraniano.
Sono tante le cose che si apprendono dalla lettura: il singolare senso dell'ospitalità turco e le contraddizioni di questo Paese, spaccato tra l'ansia di occidentalizzazione che si percepisce nelle grandi città e tra le classi più elevate, e la tradizione della gente di campagna, tutt'altro che entusiasta del processo di modernizzazione.
E poi scopriamo che camminare vuol dire fatica, vesciche, calli, scarpe distrutte e sorprese d'ogni genere lungo la strada.
L'arzillo signor Ollivier, giornalista in pensione, decide di imbarcarsi nell'impresa che ha sempre sognato: lui, gran camminatore, ha tutta l'intenzione di percorrere a piedi la proverbiale via della seta. A tappe, naturalmente, senza fretta, ma rispettando una precisa tabella di marcia.
E così, dopo la morte della moglie, con i figli ormai grandi che ancora tentano di dissuaderlo, un bel giorno di primavera parte.
In questo primo libro Ollivier racconta la prima parte del viaggio da Istanbul fino al confine iraniano.
Sono tante le cose che si apprendono dalla lettura: il singolare senso dell'ospitalità turco e le contraddizioni di questo Paese, spaccato tra l'ansia di occidentalizzazione che si percepisce nelle grandi città e tra le classi più elevate, e la tradizione della gente di campagna, tutt'altro che entusiasta del processo di modernizzazione.
E poi scopriamo che camminare vuol dire fatica, vesciche, calli, scarpe distrutte e sorprese d'ogni genere lungo la strada.
January 11, 2021
First, this is a very well written account of Ollivier's walking travels across the western end of the Silk Road. The translation from French by Dan Golembeski was exceptionally good; the reader would be unlikely to know there even was a translation!
Ollivier has a great ability to take the reader across the Road as if you were walking alongside; his descriptive talent evident in each and every scene makes reading the book very fulfilling.
The only issue I took with the narrative is the relative lack of perspective with the original Silk Road history. It would have added depth if certain phases of the walk could have been put in context with events and developments that occurred when camels were carrying silks and other goods across the steppe. Perhaps that history will be better explained on reading Ollivier's two follow-on books. For this account though, even a full chapter on how Istanbul and Venice formed the western end of the road, one the land end, the other the maritime end, would have added desired context.
Still, a great read!
Ollivier has a great ability to take the reader across the Road as if you were walking alongside; his descriptive talent evident in each and every scene makes reading the book very fulfilling.
The only issue I took with the narrative is the relative lack of perspective with the original Silk Road history. It would have added depth if certain phases of the walk could have been put in context with events and developments that occurred when camels were carrying silks and other goods across the steppe. Perhaps that history will be better explained on reading Ollivier's two follow-on books. For this account though, even a full chapter on how Istanbul and Venice formed the western end of the road, one the land end, the other the maritime end, would have added desired context.
Still, a great read!
January 19, 2021
2021 bk 7. Bernard Olliver sets out to follow the Silk Road and to see what has happened to the Caravannasaries along the route. Knowing the journey to be much longer than any walk he has done before, he breaks the journey into three stages. This book is the first stage. I've always been fascinated by Turkey, and reading this truly realize that as a woman if I ever get there that I had best stay to the larger cities and coastal tourist areas. Even knowing this, I found the author's insights into the people, their hospitality and kindnesses (except the last little bit), and worldview fascinating. Bernard provides just enough - enough descriptions of the food, the hospitality, the people, and the country that it made this book thoroughly enjoyable and at the same time thought provoking.
August 25, 2017
Un formidable récit de voyage, dépaysant à souhait et rempli de réflexions pertinentes sur le dépassement de soi et la rencontre de l'autre. À lire.
February 8, 2015
Il est formidable, ce Bernard Ollivier.
À la bonne soixantaine, il part marcher avec sac à dos sur la Route de la Soie, commençant à Istanbul and traversant d’abord tout l’Anatolie. Il n’est ni aventurier, ni grand sportif, il ne parle pas vraiment le turc et n’emporte pas beaucoup de matériel de survie. Il va devoir frapper aux portes des inconnus pour dormir chez l’habitant, il va trouver des hôtels crasseux et des restaurants horribles.
Il a des rencontres qui lui aident et ceux qui lui veulent voler ou pire. Il admire le paysage et il souffre des maladies des voyageurs marcheurs (inflammations aux pieds, diarrhées, …). Il doit fuir des chiens méchants et des paysans encore plus méchants. Mais il passe aussi des soirées et nuits chez des inconnus et tisse des amitiés miraculeuses avec eux. Il perd sa motivation parfois à cause de son isolation et du manque de communication, il se fâche contre lui-même et les mauvaises surprises, mais il se laisse toujours convaincre et guérir par la marche et le paysage magnifique autour de lui.
Il est un peu tatillon, il ne lâche pas une de ses convictions, il est assez têtu pour se mettre en danger à plusieurs reprises – mais il est honnête avec lui-même et dans son récit. Je n’ai jamais eu cette sensation (comme dans beaucoup d’autres récits d’ « aventures ») qu’il aurait intentionnellement supprimé une expérience embarrassante ou que la question: « Mais comment s’en est-il sorti du coup ? » resterait ouverte après une épreuve. Il raconte ses expériences avec une évidence et une attitude naturelle et ouverte qu’on aimerait croire que tout le monde pourrait le faire.
La Turquie qu’il va découvrir pendant son périple ne sera pas tout à fait celui qu’il avait cherchée : Il trouvera beaucoup moins de traces de l’histoire de la Route de la Soie, beaucoup moins de témoignages historiques ou d’intérêt pour cet aspect culturel de ce pays. Mais il trouvera surtout le sens du mot « hospitalité », une tradition importante pour les Turcs – enfin, pour la plupart d’entre eux.
Dommage seulement que ce récit me sert de preuve que ce voyage ne sera faisable par une femme…
À la bonne soixantaine, il part marcher avec sac à dos sur la Route de la Soie, commençant à Istanbul and traversant d’abord tout l’Anatolie. Il n’est ni aventurier, ni grand sportif, il ne parle pas vraiment le turc et n’emporte pas beaucoup de matériel de survie. Il va devoir frapper aux portes des inconnus pour dormir chez l’habitant, il va trouver des hôtels crasseux et des restaurants horribles.
Il a des rencontres qui lui aident et ceux qui lui veulent voler ou pire. Il admire le paysage et il souffre des maladies des voyageurs marcheurs (inflammations aux pieds, diarrhées, …). Il doit fuir des chiens méchants et des paysans encore plus méchants. Mais il passe aussi des soirées et nuits chez des inconnus et tisse des amitiés miraculeuses avec eux. Il perd sa motivation parfois à cause de son isolation et du manque de communication, il se fâche contre lui-même et les mauvaises surprises, mais il se laisse toujours convaincre et guérir par la marche et le paysage magnifique autour de lui.
Il est un peu tatillon, il ne lâche pas une de ses convictions, il est assez têtu pour se mettre en danger à plusieurs reprises – mais il est honnête avec lui-même et dans son récit. Je n’ai jamais eu cette sensation (comme dans beaucoup d’autres récits d’ « aventures ») qu’il aurait intentionnellement supprimé une expérience embarrassante ou que la question: « Mais comment s’en est-il sorti du coup ? » resterait ouverte après une épreuve. Il raconte ses expériences avec une évidence et une attitude naturelle et ouverte qu’on aimerait croire que tout le monde pourrait le faire.
La Turquie qu’il va découvrir pendant son périple ne sera pas tout à fait celui qu’il avait cherchée : Il trouvera beaucoup moins de traces de l’histoire de la Route de la Soie, beaucoup moins de témoignages historiques ou d’intérêt pour cet aspect culturel de ce pays. Mais il trouvera surtout le sens du mot « hospitalité », une tradition importante pour les Turcs – enfin, pour la plupart d’entre eux.
Dommage seulement que ce récit me sert de preuve que ce voyage ne sera faisable par une femme…
July 4, 2025
In 1999 Bernard Olliviers, recently widowed and retired french journalist, determines to walk the legendary Silk Road alone from Istanbul, Turkey to Xi'an, China, in 3 separate stages over 3 years. This book is the first of the trilogy that tells of his long walk. It is utterly engrossing and fascinating!
It's a very personal journey, not one meant to tell a story so much as share his own reflections, motivations, loneliness, stubborness, and experiences. There's something almost charmingly naive about Olliviers; he's carefully prepared and planned for this journey, yet he seems to be ill-prepared in some key areas - i.e. inadequate physical conditioning, failing to attend to his feet properly (any serious hiker knows you have to be very attentive to the feet), lack of Turkish language, and having a poor map. But in other ways he's done his research and shares it: the history about the regions and the Silk Road itself, the cultural differences between western and eastern Turkey, religion, politics -- the trial, guilty verdict and death sentence of Ocalan, the leader of the PKK dominates the news during the time of his long walk across Turkey -- and more. We see how women outside the cities are still kept veiled, and separated from and subjugated by men. Risk increases the farther east he goes; you really feel fear for him, the writing is so engaging. His journey is ultimately shortened before he can cross into Iran and his ultimate end goal of Tehran for this leg.
Throughout he shares the warmth and welcome and hospitality of the Turks, something I personally experienced in my own far less adventurous trips there in 1993 and 1994. In fact, this brought back many of my own memories, reminding me of why Turkey is one of my favorite countries to visit in the world.
It's a very personal journey, not one meant to tell a story so much as share his own reflections, motivations, loneliness, stubborness, and experiences. There's something almost charmingly naive about Olliviers; he's carefully prepared and planned for this journey, yet he seems to be ill-prepared in some key areas - i.e. inadequate physical conditioning, failing to attend to his feet properly (any serious hiker knows you have to be very attentive to the feet), lack of Turkish language, and having a poor map. But in other ways he's done his research and shares it: the history about the regions and the Silk Road itself, the cultural differences between western and eastern Turkey, religion, politics -- the trial, guilty verdict and death sentence of Ocalan, the leader of the PKK dominates the news during the time of his long walk across Turkey -- and more. We see how women outside the cities are still kept veiled, and separated from and subjugated by men. Risk increases the farther east he goes; you really feel fear for him, the writing is so engaging. His journey is ultimately shortened before he can cross into Iran and his ultimate end goal of Tehran for this leg.
Throughout he shares the warmth and welcome and hospitality of the Turks, something I personally experienced in my own far less adventurous trips there in 1993 and 1994. In fact, this brought back many of my own memories, reminding me of why Turkey is one of my favorite countries to visit in the world.
June 6, 2022
2.5
I have a fascination with the area of the world that once housed the Silk Road, likely in part due to the fact that we never learned about these countries, their rich histories, or their cultures while I was in school.
That fascination led me to pick up Out of Istanbul, the first in Ollivier's trilogy on his walking journey along the Silk Road.
Unfortunately, I found myself a bit disappointed. Rather than being about the Silk Road or Turkey, a lot of this book was about the author. He failed to prepare in even the most basic way for someone undertaking a long walking journey - he didn't break in his hiking boots. Throughout the book, he ignores the advice of those who actually live in the areas he's traversing, because he stubbornly must stick to his goal to literally walk the Silk Road (and I think he also assumes that their concerns are overstated). He doesn't learn much Turkish before setting out to walk the country, and he also admits he doesn't know any Farsi. His complaints and his mistakes get repetitive.
As is often the case with travelogues of this area written by Westerners, he takes a very paternalistic view of the people who are kind enough to welcome him into their homes. In particular, he takes umbrage with the treatment of women in Turkey. Are there issues? Surely. But I just often find the Western ideals of female liberation are so shallow, and the writers are not able to reflect on how their own societies enable the mistreatment of women.
Still, I am a sucker for firsthand observations of cultures which I will likely never get to experience myself. I will finish out the series, or at least the second book, in the hopes that things may be a little different as Olliver travels through other countries.
I have a fascination with the area of the world that once housed the Silk Road, likely in part due to the fact that we never learned about these countries, their rich histories, or their cultures while I was in school.
That fascination led me to pick up Out of Istanbul, the first in Ollivier's trilogy on his walking journey along the Silk Road.
Unfortunately, I found myself a bit disappointed. Rather than being about the Silk Road or Turkey, a lot of this book was about the author. He failed to prepare in even the most basic way for someone undertaking a long walking journey - he didn't break in his hiking boots. Throughout the book, he ignores the advice of those who actually live in the areas he's traversing, because he stubbornly must stick to his goal to literally walk the Silk Road (and I think he also assumes that their concerns are overstated). He doesn't learn much Turkish before setting out to walk the country, and he also admits he doesn't know any Farsi. His complaints and his mistakes get repetitive.
As is often the case with travelogues of this area written by Westerners, he takes a very paternalistic view of the people who are kind enough to welcome him into their homes. In particular, he takes umbrage with the treatment of women in Turkey. Are there issues? Surely. But I just often find the Western ideals of female liberation are so shallow, and the writers are not able to reflect on how their own societies enable the mistreatment of women.
Still, I am a sucker for firsthand observations of cultures which I will likely never get to experience myself. I will finish out the series, or at least the second book, in the hopes that things may be a little different as Olliver travels through other countries.
April 25, 2022
M. Ollivier took on the formidable adventure of walking along the ancient Silk Road. If one has no knowledge of Turkey, its history or the Kurds, please do not read this before referring to other sources. The Silk Road is a myth. The course M. Ollivier traversed is but one of many trade routes across three continents.
I found the author’s depiction of the Turks and Kurds - especially of the Kurds - to be condescending and frequently offensive. Describing a church that was converted to a mosque “after the Armenians left” the village as well as his describing how Ataturk may be regarded as a hero for restoring the Turk’s national pride compelled an audible gasp. Such disrespect for the millions massacred by Ataturk during the Armenian genocide.
M. Olliver started his solo expedition ill-prepared, especially physically, with one map, no knowledge of the language and an assumption that villagers will take in a stranger and feed him. They mostly did, but the cheek of him! This otherwise experienced hiker considered starting out in brand new boots without breaking them in as no big deal…which led to many descriptions of the impact of his poor decision on his feet until more than halfway through the book.
This book is more travelogue of personal anecdotes with little significance towards an understanding of culture and history.
I found the author’s depiction of the Turks and Kurds - especially of the Kurds - to be condescending and frequently offensive. Describing a church that was converted to a mosque “after the Armenians left” the village as well as his describing how Ataturk may be regarded as a hero for restoring the Turk’s national pride compelled an audible gasp. Such disrespect for the millions massacred by Ataturk during the Armenian genocide.
M. Olliver started his solo expedition ill-prepared, especially physically, with one map, no knowledge of the language and an assumption that villagers will take in a stranger and feed him. They mostly did, but the cheek of him! This otherwise experienced hiker considered starting out in brand new boots without breaking them in as no big deal…which led to many descriptions of the impact of his poor decision on his feet until more than halfway through the book.
This book is more travelogue of personal anecdotes with little significance towards an understanding of culture and history.
January 4, 2022
I started out very enthusiastic about this memoir of a man who decided to walk the Silk Road at 61 after his wife died and he retired. He states about midway through the book that he walks for three reasons: walking puts him in the "Zone," he loves finding out about history, and he loves sharing meals with new people. I was very tempted to not finish this book several times but I plodded on. Due to the author's lack of knowledge of the language and background culture of Turkey, I did not feel that I gained any insight into the country. The author seemed very judgmental. It says in the bio that based on this walk, the author decided to start a non-profit organization to help troubled teens by taking them on long walks but I did not see any philosophical musings in the book about this or too much else. I will not be continuing to the second and third book in this series. Perhaps the book lost something in its translation from the original French.
January 28, 2022
This is the true story of a middle aged, French journalist who sets off to walk the Silk Road. The Silk Road has always held my fascination so I was anxious to read his journey. It is the first of three books that chronicle his trek and it is likely that I will read the others but I will be better prepared for his haughty arrogance that puts him in dangerous situations upon which he relies on the good will of his reluctant hosts in Turkey. I loved his descriptions of the towns, villages, fellow travelers, terrain and the people who freely befriended him. It was frustrating when he stubbornly pursued his goals and placed himself and others in danger. Frankly, he was lucky to complete this first leg and my hope is that he learned many vital lessons that carried him forward to the other two legs.
October 10, 2019
Was very disappointed in this book, I think I was put off by the author's arrogance.
Read
June 17, 2024At sixty-one, Ollivier—a French retired teacher and journalist whose wife had died of cancer a decade earlier, and whose sons were now grown—decided to walk the length of the Silk Road. He did it in stages, of course, three or four summers running, and this is the story of the first: on foot from Istanbul to Tehran in the dying light of the twentieth century. When you read travelogues like this, it’s all about the narrating voice: do you like this person? Do you want to spend 1,500 miles in their head? Mostly, Ollivier is likeable. Sometimes he’s pigheaded—he acknowledges that he pushes himself physically beyond what’s safe or reasonable, sometimes walking forty kilometres in a day—and sometimes his ’90s-era Eurocentric arrogance shows through (many Turkish men are described with the qualifier “little”, as in “little fellow”, “little tailor”, except for when they’re fat, in which case he’ll let you know; he understands that he can’t speak to many of the women he meets in the more rural areas, but doesn’t trouble to extend much imaginative empathy in considering their lives, other than a complacent pity). But his determination and self-awareness redeems him. Mostly, he receives extraordinarily kind hospitality, and he recounts with a touching humility, gratitude, and sense of true friendship the names of people who fed and sheltered him. As he proceeds East, though, the sentencing of Kurdish leader Abdullah Öcalan makes for a jittery rural populace, aggressive and unsympathetic authorities, and several instances in which he’s very nearly mugged and killed. (A tense night spent in a barn in an unfriendly village, detention by military police, and a day in which three men pursue him between villages, are particularly alarming episodes.) 1999 in Turkey was not a comfortable or risk-free place and time to be a white man alone on foot. But Ollivier can’t seem to help himself: he wants to see it through, so a life-threatening bout of dysentery just before crossing into Iran–which necessitated his temporary repatriation to France–frustrates him on an almost existential level. And I ended up willing him on; volumes two and three appear to be ebook-only now, but I’ll certainly read them.
March 12, 2023
Having completed the hike from Paris to Compostela Spain on the Way of St James, Ollivier was looking for another extending hike that he could tackle. He decided on the Silk Road. The accounting of that travel, over the course of four years and three books begins with this one setting out from Istanbul alone to travel across Turkey to Iran. Along the way there are a few problems but also a number of truly heartwarming people who provide hospitality to this obvious foreigner.
Travel books are always interesting and provide a chance to explore different parts of the world without leaving the comfort of the recliner and the expense of the travel. To travel alone, walking no less, facing the risks and dangers, is more than I would want to face so I applaud him for setting out to complete his goal.
Travel books are always interesting and provide a chance to explore different parts of the world without leaving the comfort of the recliner and the expense of the travel. To travel alone, walking no less, facing the risks and dangers, is more than I would want to face so I applaud him for setting out to complete his goal.
May 31, 2023
Fascinerend verhaal over een fascinerende reis door een fascinerend land, door een man die uitstekend kan schrijven en niet bang is om ook bij vlagen zijn eigen onsympathieke (en totaal geobsedeerde) kanten te laten zien.
Fascinating story about a fascinating journey through a fascinating country, by a man who can write excellently and is not afraid to show his own unsympathetic side.
Fascinating story about a fascinating journey through a fascinating country, by a man who can write excellently and is not afraid to show his own unsympathetic side.
March 25, 2023
Première étape d’une longue marche d’Istanbul à Xi’an, en Chine : la traversée de la Turquie. L’auteur en fait un récit captivant. Il donne envie de se lancer sur les chemins.
September 5, 2021
A well translated and documented journey that holds both promise and peril at every turn. Very enjoyable read.
March 24, 2022
“I have to get walking. I often wonder about this phenomenon. What impels me to keep going? What unstoppable force, despite being barely awake, drives me out onto the road? My difficulty isn’t walking but stopping, for I’ve achieved that special state of physical plenitude: as soon as most of the fatigue is gone—and that happens very quickly given my conditioning over the past few “weeks—I long to get walking, to keep on walking.
It has been observed, among pilgrims in particular, that once an average of thirty kilometers a day has been reached, physical conditioning neutralizes our sensations of the body. In almost all religions, the pilgrimage ritual seeks as its main objective to elevate the soul by putting the physical body through hard work: the feet touch the ground, but the mind is nearer to God. This explains the intellectual side of walking, which laypeople fail to grasp. Those who’ve never experienced such an adventure themselves most often think that walking is suffering. That might be the case for those who, out of masochism or religiosity, inflict tortures on themselves, walking on their knees or barefoot on stones. But for distances less than thirty kilometers a day, walking is pure joy, a wonderful drug.
“Solitary walking forces us to confront ourselves, freeing us from the limitations of the body as well as those of our usual environment that restrict us to conventional, acceptable, and prepackaged ways of thinking. After a very long walk, pilgrims almost always believe that they’ve been transformed. This is because they encounter a part of themselves on the road that they would no doubt never have discovered without such a long face-to-face experience. This is also why greater emphasis should be placed on solitary walking, which of course doesn’t preclude happily meeting up with friends during stopovers. The advantage that a Silk Road pilgrim or caravanner has over me lies therein. In the evening, with other walkers, whether they all share their same beliefs, fatigues, and discoveries or not, they can exchange and compare sensations, their moments of awe, and submit to scrutiny the ideas they’ve developed throughout the day.”
“When we choose to walk, we open ourselves up to relationships. Some are kind, and some are cruel. If I wanted to die in my bed, then I should’ve stayed home. But on that topic, I have strong views. Those who want to die in bed and never stray far from it are already dead.”
“The Western eye has to learn to rediscover the imaginative possibilities occasioned by what is suggested, far from the practice we’ve come to accept of revealing everything. May imagination once again regain its former prestige, and may we be guided by our dreams: such are the thoughts that come to my mind as I observe this dark, evocative figure.”
“For all of us, it’s not the goal that matters, but the Way.”
The Way . . . Is there one more fabulous, more legendary than the very one I am traveling? Where else in the world could I be as much at one with all those who, for over two millennia, walked before me on these rugged pathways across Anatolia? Their route is my route; the risks they faced, I face, too.”
“Friendships for a day, and yet strong and solid as though tempered by time. I’d never experienced that before: that friendship and love are not the work of time, but the result of a secret alchemy; and that eternity has nothing to do with how long something lasts, either. Every pilgrim, it is said, returns home transformed. My Kurdish and Turkish friends: as a pilgrim of fraternity, I will return home holding your smiles and farewell embraces close to my heart.”
“I now know that, after a certain level of suffering has been exceeded, we no longer fear death.”
“I’d like to make it all the way to China. And I’ll come back, too, for all those whom I love and for my dear Pénélope waiting for me in our small village cemetery. After that, I’ll do what I can. Life lies ahead of us, not behind. Preparing for and carrying through with this journey has been a fantastic mental challenge, a new birth into a new life. For the entire one thousand seven hundred kilometers or so that I traveled “through Turkey, even though I hadn’t anticipated its untimely end, this journey has been absolutely amazing. From the most remote villages all the way to the university of Erzurum, I’ve met so many warm, welcoming people that I’m at a loss for words. My walk through this land, so rich in history, has set me right once again with the world. And all along the way, I was escorted by a host of ghosts from the past: the heroes of the Trojan War—the Golden Fleece—the Ottoman Empire—the troops of Tamerlane, that “scourge of God”—Gordias and his son, the inventors of the Gordian Knot—Alexander the Great, who sliced it in half—Julius Caesar . . . They were all there, somewhere between myth and reality, right beside me with each step and every thought. As for the landscapes, the stark beauty of these vast expanses, mountains, and chasms, of these “narrow gorges and of the steppe-land that I trod with my hiking boots: it’s as vivid as ever, as if permanently burned into my retinas.
However enthusiastic I am about this land’s rich past, I’m more critical of modern-day Turkey. The revolution it experienced under Atatürk is now floundering, mired in a society crippled by the huge gap between the rich and the poor and by the omnipresence of religion. The rich of the country’s west want to be more Western than Europeans are. The poor of the country’s east console themselves with religion or guerilla warfare. The country needs a new Atatürk, but could modern Turkey ever produce one? This is, as far as I’ve been able tell, a society on lockdown, just as it was under the Sultan when Turkey was the “sick man of Europe.” Under the weight of its inflexibility, the regime collapsed, incapable of resolving its contradiction
Turkey is truly torn between the East, where it is geographically located, and the West, where it would like to be. Pulled in a hundred different directions—by its attraction to Europe, conservative society, extreme nationalism, its brutal military tradition, and a tendency to fall back on religion—the country is wavering, hesitating, trying to get its bearings.
The Turkish-speaking countries of the former USSR would constitute a region of choice for the country to expand its economy and diplomatic ties, but it does not seem to have understood this. In order to establish whether it is situated in the East or the West, Turkey must first carry out agonizing reform. Asia doesn’t begin on the other side of the Bosporus, as geographers tell us. The divide exists in every family with, on one hand, men, westernized and educated, and women on the other, kept under the yoke of daily labor and far from realms of learning. There’s a rift between the degree-holding women of Istanbul and Ankara, their hair blowing in the wind, and the unschooled, veiled women of the villages—whether Turkish or Kurdish—who live in a clan-based society still stuck in the Middle Ages.
The country has experienced two major events that could, if real debate were to be held within the country, guide it to redefine its positions. The first is the impact of several refusals Europe made opposing Turkey’s entry into the European Community on public opinion and the political establishment. The second is Öcalan’s trial. These two developments, in their implications, clearly focus the debate domestically on peace with the Kurds and externally on peace with Greece. Two of the Turks’ historic enemies. The temptation to resolve these two problems “violence—the army’s solution of choice—can only lead to even greater isolation and increased poverty. The fact that Öcalan has not been executed and the rapprochement with Greece after the terrible earthquake that ravaged the İzmit region in August 1999 are two reasons for hope.
Of course, it’s easy for me, a Westerner detached from the historical context, to pass peremptory judgment. This is something I try to avoid, for what, in the end, can I truly comprehend? What exactly did I go looking for in those dispossessed villages? I went in search of a past that the poor themselves could care less about, because their awareness is focused on what they don’t have. And what they don’t have, I, a well-heeled Westerner, do have, and yet I’m trying to get rid of it.”
In Room 407 at Vatan Hospital, I play the philosopher, going over my voyage in my mind, planning out the next one, and, in my school notebook, sketching out the road ahead. In leaving, I wanted to understand the world. But does the world let itself be understood? At the end of the road, will I find wisdom? Or will I still be pointlessly waiting for it to come before death grabs hold of me? As a doer both by nature and by necessity, I must seek—along this slow road I’ve plotted out for myself—silence, meditation, and tranquility of soul. They won’t all show up at once, of course. They’re not crouching in the shadows of Xi’an’s high walls, waiting for my arrival to reveal themselves. They’ll appear along the way—on the footpaths and roads, in the cities, with each and every encounter to come, and in the millions of steps I still want to”
Pasaje de
Out of Istanbul
Bernard Ollivier
Es posible que este material esté protegido
It has been observed, among pilgrims in particular, that once an average of thirty kilometers a day has been reached, physical conditioning neutralizes our sensations of the body. In almost all religions, the pilgrimage ritual seeks as its main objective to elevate the soul by putting the physical body through hard work: the feet touch the ground, but the mind is nearer to God. This explains the intellectual side of walking, which laypeople fail to grasp. Those who’ve never experienced such an adventure themselves most often think that walking is suffering. That might be the case for those who, out of masochism or religiosity, inflict tortures on themselves, walking on their knees or barefoot on stones. But for distances less than thirty kilometers a day, walking is pure joy, a wonderful drug.
“Solitary walking forces us to confront ourselves, freeing us from the limitations of the body as well as those of our usual environment that restrict us to conventional, acceptable, and prepackaged ways of thinking. After a very long walk, pilgrims almost always believe that they’ve been transformed. This is because they encounter a part of themselves on the road that they would no doubt never have discovered without such a long face-to-face experience. This is also why greater emphasis should be placed on solitary walking, which of course doesn’t preclude happily meeting up with friends during stopovers. The advantage that a Silk Road pilgrim or caravanner has over me lies therein. In the evening, with other walkers, whether they all share their same beliefs, fatigues, and discoveries or not, they can exchange and compare sensations, their moments of awe, and submit to scrutiny the ideas they’ve developed throughout the day.”
“When we choose to walk, we open ourselves up to relationships. Some are kind, and some are cruel. If I wanted to die in my bed, then I should’ve stayed home. But on that topic, I have strong views. Those who want to die in bed and never stray far from it are already dead.”
“The Western eye has to learn to rediscover the imaginative possibilities occasioned by what is suggested, far from the practice we’ve come to accept of revealing everything. May imagination once again regain its former prestige, and may we be guided by our dreams: such are the thoughts that come to my mind as I observe this dark, evocative figure.”
“For all of us, it’s not the goal that matters, but the Way.”
The Way . . . Is there one more fabulous, more legendary than the very one I am traveling? Where else in the world could I be as much at one with all those who, for over two millennia, walked before me on these rugged pathways across Anatolia? Their route is my route; the risks they faced, I face, too.”
“Friendships for a day, and yet strong and solid as though tempered by time. I’d never experienced that before: that friendship and love are not the work of time, but the result of a secret alchemy; and that eternity has nothing to do with how long something lasts, either. Every pilgrim, it is said, returns home transformed. My Kurdish and Turkish friends: as a pilgrim of fraternity, I will return home holding your smiles and farewell embraces close to my heart.”
“I now know that, after a certain level of suffering has been exceeded, we no longer fear death.”
“I’d like to make it all the way to China. And I’ll come back, too, for all those whom I love and for my dear Pénélope waiting for me in our small village cemetery. After that, I’ll do what I can. Life lies ahead of us, not behind. Preparing for and carrying through with this journey has been a fantastic mental challenge, a new birth into a new life. For the entire one thousand seven hundred kilometers or so that I traveled “through Turkey, even though I hadn’t anticipated its untimely end, this journey has been absolutely amazing. From the most remote villages all the way to the university of Erzurum, I’ve met so many warm, welcoming people that I’m at a loss for words. My walk through this land, so rich in history, has set me right once again with the world. And all along the way, I was escorted by a host of ghosts from the past: the heroes of the Trojan War—the Golden Fleece—the Ottoman Empire—the troops of Tamerlane, that “scourge of God”—Gordias and his son, the inventors of the Gordian Knot—Alexander the Great, who sliced it in half—Julius Caesar . . . They were all there, somewhere between myth and reality, right beside me with each step and every thought. As for the landscapes, the stark beauty of these vast expanses, mountains, and chasms, of these “narrow gorges and of the steppe-land that I trod with my hiking boots: it’s as vivid as ever, as if permanently burned into my retinas.
However enthusiastic I am about this land’s rich past, I’m more critical of modern-day Turkey. The revolution it experienced under Atatürk is now floundering, mired in a society crippled by the huge gap between the rich and the poor and by the omnipresence of religion. The rich of the country’s west want to be more Western than Europeans are. The poor of the country’s east console themselves with religion or guerilla warfare. The country needs a new Atatürk, but could modern Turkey ever produce one? This is, as far as I’ve been able tell, a society on lockdown, just as it was under the Sultan when Turkey was the “sick man of Europe.” Under the weight of its inflexibility, the regime collapsed, incapable of resolving its contradiction
Turkey is truly torn between the East, where it is geographically located, and the West, where it would like to be. Pulled in a hundred different directions—by its attraction to Europe, conservative society, extreme nationalism, its brutal military tradition, and a tendency to fall back on religion—the country is wavering, hesitating, trying to get its bearings.
The Turkish-speaking countries of the former USSR would constitute a region of choice for the country to expand its economy and diplomatic ties, but it does not seem to have understood this. In order to establish whether it is situated in the East or the West, Turkey must first carry out agonizing reform. Asia doesn’t begin on the other side of the Bosporus, as geographers tell us. The divide exists in every family with, on one hand, men, westernized and educated, and women on the other, kept under the yoke of daily labor and far from realms of learning. There’s a rift between the degree-holding women of Istanbul and Ankara, their hair blowing in the wind, and the unschooled, veiled women of the villages—whether Turkish or Kurdish—who live in a clan-based society still stuck in the Middle Ages.
The country has experienced two major events that could, if real debate were to be held within the country, guide it to redefine its positions. The first is the impact of several refusals Europe made opposing Turkey’s entry into the European Community on public opinion and the political establishment. The second is Öcalan’s trial. These two developments, in their implications, clearly focus the debate domestically on peace with the Kurds and externally on peace with Greece. Two of the Turks’ historic enemies. The temptation to resolve these two problems “violence—the army’s solution of choice—can only lead to even greater isolation and increased poverty. The fact that Öcalan has not been executed and the rapprochement with Greece after the terrible earthquake that ravaged the İzmit region in August 1999 are two reasons for hope.
Of course, it’s easy for me, a Westerner detached from the historical context, to pass peremptory judgment. This is something I try to avoid, for what, in the end, can I truly comprehend? What exactly did I go looking for in those dispossessed villages? I went in search of a past that the poor themselves could care less about, because their awareness is focused on what they don’t have. And what they don’t have, I, a well-heeled Westerner, do have, and yet I’m trying to get rid of it.”
In Room 407 at Vatan Hospital, I play the philosopher, going over my voyage in my mind, planning out the next one, and, in my school notebook, sketching out the road ahead. In leaving, I wanted to understand the world. But does the world let itself be understood? At the end of the road, will I find wisdom? Or will I still be pointlessly waiting for it to come before death grabs hold of me? As a doer both by nature and by necessity, I must seek—along this slow road I’ve plotted out for myself—silence, meditation, and tranquility of soul. They won’t all show up at once, of course. They’re not crouching in the shadows of Xi’an’s high walls, waiting for my arrival to reveal themselves. They’ll appear along the way—on the footpaths and roads, in the cities, with each and every encounter to come, and in the millions of steps I still want to”
Pasaje de
Out of Istanbul
Bernard Ollivier
Es posible que este material esté protegido
May 12, 2013
Se ci fosse la mezza stella darei un tre e mezzo!
Quattro forse è troppo... non mi so decidere.
Bernard Ollivier, giornalista in pensione, decide di ripercorrere la famosa Via della Seta a piedi partendo da Istanbul in Turchia ed arrivando a Xi'an in Cina. Per farlo si è preparato una marcia in diverse tappe che percorrerà nel giro di circa 4 anni. Questo libro racconta la prima parte del viaggio.
Mi è piaciuta tanto sia l'idea del viaggio che il racconto in sè: tutti questi incontri con la cultura turca, tanto diversa dalla nostra, le mille peripezie che ha dovuto subire, come si è destreggiato davanti agli imprevisti o ai pericoli, i luoghi meravigliosi che ha visto, la storia che rivive nei suoi passi.
Che fascino che ha tutto questo nella mia immaginazione!
Ma mi ha irritato quel suo modo di vedere il camminare come l'unico modo corretto di visitare un luogo.
Secondo lui, lo ribadisce a più riprese, chi non viaggia non è vivo, non conosce, non comprende le culture diverse, non può essere davvero felice e soddisfatto di sè.
Ma non solo, pone limiti anche al tipo di viaggio che si affronta: solo il percorrere le strade a piedi, lentamente permetterebbe di assaporarle veramente e creare un reale e forte contatto con la nazione che si visita.
Sarà che ho letto moltissimi altri libri di altri viaggiatori che credo siano un gradino sopra a lui, ma non posso che ritenere la sua analisi alquanto limitata ed autoreferenziale!!
Credo che la differenza fondamentale la faccia la predisposizione personale e la capacità di ognuno di sapersi relazionare con le altre culture, certo non i mezzi di trasporto utilizzati anche se hanno la loro importanza!
Io ho viaggiato spesso e mi sono anche trasferita all'estero per lavoro un paio di volte e spesso fatico a comprendere chi non ha la mia stessa sete di conoscere altri mondi e modi di vivere, ma il suo "estremismo" e l'insistenza con la quale afferma che chi non viaggia e "muore nel suo letto" in realtà non vive davvero, non mi piace affatto...
Detto questo sono curiosa di leggere il seguito per vedere sia come procede il suo viaggio, sia le differenze di accoglienza che troverà nei vari paesi attraversati!
Quattro forse è troppo... non mi so decidere.
Bernard Ollivier, giornalista in pensione, decide di ripercorrere la famosa Via della Seta a piedi partendo da Istanbul in Turchia ed arrivando a Xi'an in Cina. Per farlo si è preparato una marcia in diverse tappe che percorrerà nel giro di circa 4 anni. Questo libro racconta la prima parte del viaggio.
Mi è piaciuta tanto sia l'idea del viaggio che il racconto in sè: tutti questi incontri con la cultura turca, tanto diversa dalla nostra, le mille peripezie che ha dovuto subire, come si è destreggiato davanti agli imprevisti o ai pericoli, i luoghi meravigliosi che ha visto, la storia che rivive nei suoi passi.
Che fascino che ha tutto questo nella mia immaginazione!
Ma mi ha irritato quel suo modo di vedere il camminare come l'unico modo corretto di visitare un luogo.
Secondo lui, lo ribadisce a più riprese, chi non viaggia non è vivo, non conosce, non comprende le culture diverse, non può essere davvero felice e soddisfatto di sè.
Ma non solo, pone limiti anche al tipo di viaggio che si affronta: solo il percorrere le strade a piedi, lentamente permetterebbe di assaporarle veramente e creare un reale e forte contatto con la nazione che si visita.
Sarà che ho letto moltissimi altri libri di altri viaggiatori che credo siano un gradino sopra a lui, ma non posso che ritenere la sua analisi alquanto limitata ed autoreferenziale!!
Credo che la differenza fondamentale la faccia la predisposizione personale e la capacità di ognuno di sapersi relazionare con le altre culture, certo non i mezzi di trasporto utilizzati anche se hanno la loro importanza!
Io ho viaggiato spesso e mi sono anche trasferita all'estero per lavoro un paio di volte e spesso fatico a comprendere chi non ha la mia stessa sete di conoscere altri mondi e modi di vivere, ma il suo "estremismo" e l'insistenza con la quale afferma che chi non viaggia e "muore nel suo letto" in realtà non vive davvero, non mi piace affatto...
Detto questo sono curiosa di leggere il seguito per vedere sia come procede il suo viaggio, sia le differenze di accoglienza che troverà nei vari paesi attraversati!
October 28, 2022
Bernard Ollivier, a 62 year old retired French journalist, writes beautifully of his trek from Istanbul to Iran along the Silk Road on foot. I've read other such travel stories, but few are told with such precision and passion - being a journalist really helped! The English translation is seamless, without losing the character of the original writing. Bernard has learned a little of the Turkish language, but not enough to really be able to carry on a conversation, however he gets by with his dictionary, hand symbols and the patience of the villagers he meets along the way. One of the most startling revelations to me was how willingly complete strangers took him into their own homes. He was a novelty, as none of them had ever seen a western European man, or anyone for that matter, attempt the Silk Road on foot. Turkish hospitality requires the locals to give him tea, a meal, and often a place to sleep.
Bernard gets into a few scrapes along the way, being accosted by robbers and con artists and hauled in by the jandarmas. He also deals stoically with painful foot problems early in the trip until he finally develops callouses. Once he passes into the eastern Kurdish part of Turkey, his days become more challenging. People are less trusting, more violent and poorer.
The author writes frequently about how disturbed he was with the treatment of women in the Turkish society. Though women have more freedoms and autonomy in the big cities, in the small villages they are silenced and covered in black garb from head to toe. He rarely talked to a woman during the entire trip, and was specifically warned not to do so.
I see that he has written a sequel to this first leg of his journey, so evidently he continued on in years to come. I'll plan to read those too!
Bernard gets into a few scrapes along the way, being accosted by robbers and con artists and hauled in by the jandarmas. He also deals stoically with painful foot problems early in the trip until he finally develops callouses. Once he passes into the eastern Kurdish part of Turkey, his days become more challenging. People are less trusting, more violent and poorer.
The author writes frequently about how disturbed he was with the treatment of women in the Turkish society. Though women have more freedoms and autonomy in the big cities, in the small villages they are silenced and covered in black garb from head to toe. He rarely talked to a woman during the entire trip, and was specifically warned not to do so.
I see that he has written a sequel to this first leg of his journey, so evidently he continued on in years to come. I'll plan to read those too!
January 28, 2021
An interesting book just in terms of why he choses to walk the Silk Road, and the experiences he has on it. From my perspective, the trip was not well thought out nor well prepared for, which is entirely unfair on my part. He does describe why he does things the way he did.
But here's why. He goes out without a tent or sleeping bag (reasons for which he explains well), the map he uses is not an accurate map and is out of date (also not his fault), and much of the route is extraordinarily dangerous, partly due to military presence and partly due to the fact that he has to walk the roads, which do not provide for pedestrians at all.
As well, this book is a translation, and sometimes the person who is translating it doesn't always have the most poetic or readable translation. The book varies between sublime and pedestrian (descriptions of sunsets, of villagers who befriended him) and descriptions of how awful his feet feel and how sick he got, etc. Still a very interesting book, but not one that convinces me the trip was worthwhile. I have yet to read his other two books, and it will be interesting to see how the overall journey plays out.
But here's why. He goes out without a tent or sleeping bag (reasons for which he explains well), the map he uses is not an accurate map and is out of date (also not his fault), and much of the route is extraordinarily dangerous, partly due to military presence and partly due to the fact that he has to walk the roads, which do not provide for pedestrians at all.
As well, this book is a translation, and sometimes the person who is translating it doesn't always have the most poetic or readable translation. The book varies between sublime and pedestrian (descriptions of sunsets, of villagers who befriended him) and descriptions of how awful his feet feel and how sick he got, etc. Still a very interesting book, but not one that convinces me the trip was worthwhile. I have yet to read his other two books, and it will be interesting to see how the overall journey plays out.
September 12, 2022
The writer is a French reporter who, with the loss of his wife and children grown up and almost retiring, decides to walk the Silk Road.
The book, the first of a three-volume collection, describes his journey from Istanbul to the Iranian border.
There is no concern with historical facts or references about the Route. It is more the personal account of the relationship that the author develops with people on his journey.
Eventually, one or another historical element is brought into the text to reinforce an idea (Mama Hatunguerreira woman in a country that leaves the woman in the background, e.g.)
Descriptive capacity is demonstrated on several occasions, but especially in the dramatic experience of having suffered chronic diarrhea caused by amoebas and the urgent need to travel back to France.
I highlight two interesting thoughts:
Those who want to die in bed and never stray far from it are already dead.
Arab Proverb: “Esteem for those who travel, disdain for those who Katy at home”
I register my disappointment at the lack of more historical information that could have greatly enriched the pleasant reading.
The book, the first of a three-volume collection, describes his journey from Istanbul to the Iranian border.
There is no concern with historical facts or references about the Route. It is more the personal account of the relationship that the author develops with people on his journey.
Eventually, one or another historical element is brought into the text to reinforce an idea (Mama Hatunguerreira woman in a country that leaves the woman in the background, e.g.)
Descriptive capacity is demonstrated on several occasions, but especially in the dramatic experience of having suffered chronic diarrhea caused by amoebas and the urgent need to travel back to France.
I highlight two interesting thoughts:
Those who want to die in bed and never stray far from it are already dead.
Arab Proverb: “Esteem for those who travel, disdain for those who Katy at home”
I register my disappointment at the lack of more historical information that could have greatly enriched the pleasant reading.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 85 reviews