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breakfast arrival in Ankara, the Express departs from Istanbul's Haydarpasa station at 8:40 every evening. Since Haydarpasa is separated from Istanbul proper by the Bosporus, the great international waterway dividing European from Asian Turkey, a journey to Ankara begins with a magnificent twilight ferry crossing to the Anatolian shore.

Galata landing, on the Golden Horn, is the starting point for the elegant white steamers that make the crossing, and it is easily among the busiest points in all Istanbul. Great crowds of pedestrians hurry back and forth across Galata Bridge, which spans the Horn at its junction with the Bosporus. Little red four-wheel trolleys creep cautiously across the bridge through streams of trucks, buses, taxis, and horse carts, and then grind up the Pera hill through narrow cobbled streets. Passenger ferries with tall, rakish yellow stacks churn through the dense water traffic of the Bosporus with almost reckless speed; they arrive and depart from the landing every few minutes, discharging and loading masses of commuters bound to and from the Istanbul suburbs that lie across the Bosporus and line both sides of the 12-mile channel all the way from the Sea of Marmara to the Black Sea. Nearby, at the Galata Quay, oceangoing liners load for more distant points in the Black, Aegean, and Mediterranean seas.

The 15-minute crossing to Haydarpasa is a splendid beginning to a railway journey. In North America, to my mind, it was equaled only by the now-defunct crossing of San Francisco Bay by Southern Pacific's ferries. To the north the Galata Tower tops the Pera hill, as it has for over six centuries. To the west, on the hills of the historic old Stamboul district, the domes and minarets of Saint Sophia and the "Blue Mosque" are silhouetted against the evening sky. High above the Seraglio Point tower the walls of the Topkapi Palace, once the residence of the Ottoman sultans. Down close to the shore line red electric commuter trains follow high-voltage catenary into Sirkeci station, the Istanbul terminal for Turkey's European railway lines. Perched on a little island close under the high bluffs of Uskudar on the Asian shore is the Tower of Leander, near the point where legend has it (incorrectly, say most historians) Leander drowned in an attempt to cross the Bosporus.

At Haydarpasa the steamer slips in behind a long stone breakwater and ties up next to an ornate tile-faced little building, whose Oriental architecture is in rather marked contrast to the vaguely "chateau" style of the

adjacent railway terminal. Jutting out from the shore on a short mole, and bent in a U-shape around the stub-end terminal tracks, the Haydarpasa station is a towering four-story stone structure with a high-pitched roof, turreted corners, and great stainedglass windows over the entrances. It was built in 1903, and rebuilt in 1917 after being destroyed by fire.

By the time the connecting ferry steamer is in, train No. 6, the Ankara Ekspresi, is already spotted on track 3 in the terminal. Steam still rules in Turkey, and regular power for the train, as well as for most other express passenger trains operating over the Haydarpasa-Ankara route, is one of a series of fast (top speed about 60 mph) 2-8-2's built by Henschel of Germany in 1937. Because of a need for light axle loadings and because of low schedule speeds, TCDD favors such multi-axled wheel arrangements as the 2-8-2 and the 2-10-0 for passenger service. The 2-10-0, as a matter of fact, is widely used on TCDD as a dual-service locomotive for freight and heavy passenger trains. In comparison with North American power of the same wheel arrangement, they are small locomotives. TCDD's express Mikes, for example, carry no more weight on their drivers (80 tons) than a typical U. S. light Pacific.

In appearance these Turkish 2-8-2's are striking machines. A big pair of smoke deflectors and a cab raked in above the window sills provide an appropriately dashing aspect for an express locomotive. In a few details, such as a horizontally barred pilot and a big headlight mounted high on the smokebox front, it is possible to find similarities to, say, PRR practice, but such other features as an additional pair of headlights mounted on the pilot beam, or piston rods protruding through the front of the cylinders, are purely European.


Aegean Sea

Their grooming is immaculate. The glossy black boiler jacket is bound in polished brass; running boards and running gear are lined in red; and the engine number, TCDD initials, and the Turkish star and crescent are mounted on the cab sides in brass.

Everything behind the buffers of the Mike's modest tender is strictly Wagons-Lits operation. The regular Express consist includes a W-L baggage and mail car, a restaurant car, and four sleeping cars increased to six sleepers during the winter season. The entire train is uniformly finished in the standard royal blue livery, with yellow trim, of the international sleeping car company.

The sleeping cars are all a standard Wagons-Lits 11-compartment car, built in Belgium. Their interior furnishings have a durable, ageless quality about them, not unlike that of one of Mr. Pullman's old standard opensection cars. The compartments are paneled in polished dark wood, and have thick flowered carpeting on the floor and heavy tufted brown upholstery. Second-class passengers share occupancy of a compartment (each makes up into an upper and a lower); a first-class ticket buys single occupancy. Each sleeper rates a brownuniformed Wagons-Lits attendant, who is required to speak one language (most know English or French) in addition to Turkish.

As the minute hand on the big platform clock swings toward 8:40 p.m., a final announcement in rapid Turkish comes over the station p.a. system. Someone blows a whistle, and the engineer answers with a shrill peep from the engine. A uniformed stationmaster holds up a green lantern, steam jets across the platforms from open cylinder cocks, passengers leaning from lowered windows shout frantic

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HENSCHEL 2-8-2 built in 1937 is ready to leave Haydarpasa station, Istanbul, with the overnight all-Pullman Ankara Express.

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last-minute farewells, and almost imperceptibly the sleepers are moving. Among the chief delights of a journey on the Ankara Express is the midtrain restaurant car, which is operated by a Wagons-Lits staff. The interior of the car, built by Britain's Metropolitan Carriage, is rather ornately finished in mahogany paneling, with fanciful inlays in colored woods, and fitted with heavy bronze parcel racks and lamps. If the dignity of the interior décor is somewhat compromised by advertising placards displayed on the walls, the food is first rate.

Almost as soon as the train is under way a bell-ringing waiter passes through the sleepers to announce dinner. You can order from an extensive a la carte list, but those who know go for the table d'hote dinner, which usually comes to around 12.50 Turkish lira ($1.40) and takes close to 2 hours to consume. The cuisine is more Turkish than European. A typical menu might include a thick Turkish soup, shish kebab (lamb and peppers grilled on a skewer), French fries, a fresh vegetable, a mixed salad doused in olive oil, a Turkish "borek"

ENGINEER of a Czech-built 2-10-0 on a suburban train waves to the photographer as No. 6 overtakes him on last lap to Ankara.

(a sort of small meat and cheese pie fried in olive oil), fresh fruits, and a glass of heavily sugared tea or a demitasse of thick Turkish coffee. Any one of the several excellent Turkish wines stocked on the diner complements the meal very nicely.

By the time dinner is over, No. 6 will be well beyond the double track territory that winds through the string of Istanbul suburbs along the Marmara coast line. Occasionally a suburban train, generally headed by a tank engine, slams by on the way into Haydarpasa. The rolling stock employed in this commuter operation, incidentally, is rather interesting. Almost all of it is made up of aged four-wheel, open-platform wooden coaches. close look at some of them reveals such intriguing details as journal box covers lettered with the initials or names of such TCDD predecessors as the Chemin de Fer Ottoman-Anatolie, or the Baghdad Bahn.

The Haydarpasa-Ankara route followed by the Express is one of Turkey's oldest railway lines. The first section, between Haydarpasa and suburban Pendik, was opened in 1872, and

the entire route to Ankara was completed in 1892. The route is also one of the busiest on the entire Turkish system, and is currently receiving a number of improvements to accommodate a growing traffic. Except for double track in the Istanbul and Ankara suburban zones, the line is single track throughout. Presently operated by train order, the entire route is now getting U. S.-made C.T.C. Doubletrack territory is being extended in both suburban zones, and several important realignment projects are under construction. New, heavier rail is going in over the entire route in preparation for Turkey's first full dieselization. A recent U. S. loan will buy 32 U. S.-made export road-switchers - enough to convert over half of the traffic on the route.

Clear of the suburbs, the line goes to single track, curves past the tumbled ruins of a castle once occupied by Hannibal, then drops down to water's edge to follow the orchards, vineyards, olive groves, and charming villages of the Marmara coast into Izmit. Full enjoyment of this splendid scenery must wait for a westbound trip on the

ARRIVAL: Polished Henschel Mikado heading No. 6 in from Istanbul clumps importantly past bystanders and railroaders as she arrives in Ankara with her solid-sleeper consist.

Express, which negotiates the Marmara coast line during daylight hours.

Izmit is reached at 10:45, the Express pauses momentarily at the station for a few passengers, then the 2-8-2 gathers speed on tree-lined boulevard trackage that slices through the heart of the city. Ignoring the thundering passage of the train, a few late customers sip sugared tea in brightly lighted teahouses along the nearly deserted main street. Izmit, now a thriving provincial capital and the center of a booming industrial area at the eastern end of the Marmara Sea, has a history even older than that of Istanbul. As the ancient Nicomedia, it was once the capital of the Roman Empire under the Emperor Diocletian.

East of Izmit the rails flow through a low valley between high hills and mountains, skirt the south shore of a long fresh water lake, then abruptly plunge south through the Geyve Gates to the narrow Sakarya River Valley to begin a long climb to the Anatolian plateau. The slope is gentle at first. Then at Bilecik, where chunky 2-10-2 tank engine helpers wait for tonnage traffic, the Mike goes to work in earnest.

By daylight the journey through the Sakarya Valley and up the winding grade above Bilecik is spectacular, but I'll always remember it best the way it looked at 2 a.m. one February night the first time I rode the Express to Ankara. The mountains were covered by a fresh white snowfall and illuminated by a full moon. I lowered the compartment window and contemplated the sight and sound of the

2-8-2 up ahead as it pounded steadily upward through almost continuous curvature, occasionally spanning a deep ravine on high stone arches, or slamming into a short tunnel. The sharp bark of the exhaust was softened by the blanket of fresh snow, and now and then the canopy of steam and smoke that drifted lazily back from the engine reflected a flaming orange as a sweating fireman hurled soft coal into the firebox.

DAWN finds No. 6 rolling steadily eastward across the Anatolian plateau to Ankara. It's a wide-open, bare terrain that has as many aspects as there are seasons; I found it strikingly similar to the UP's Wyoming or Utah countryside. By winter it is a rolling, snow-covered prairie, stretching almost endlessly in every direction under a cloudless sky, and hardly broken by as much as a single tree. In the spring the fresh green of new crops pushing through the reddish soil alternates with fields of vivid wildflowers. By midsummer the hills are dry and dusty, and peasants work under a hot sun in the grain fields, tediously harvesting and threshing their crops by hand. Cattle and sheep graze in the meadows, and now and then you'll see a gypsy tent camp alongside a little stream. At the country stations big grain elevators line the sidings, and after the late summer harvest laborers shovel sugar beets into four-wheel gondolas.

Breakfast in the restaurant car is typically Turkish. The usual "complete tea" breakfast includes a big

pot of tea, toasted slabs of Turkish bread, a sort of pound cake, butter and marmalade, and a big slice of soft, salty white cheese made from goat's milk. For those accustomed to more substantial fare, fresh fruits and other extras are available.

Briefly the rails rejoin the Sakarya River, left behind the night before during the long climb to the plateau, to follow the stream through a narrow rocky canyon. Near the little station of Yassihoyuk is the site of ancient Gordium, where Alexander the Great cut the famous Gordian knot; legend held that whoever separated it would rule all Asia.

At Sincan, while the Express waits in a siding, small children scramble up and down beside the cars shouting for old newspapers, which are much in demand in news-starved rural areas. Westbound from Ankara, a three-car diesel-hydraulic trainset slips by on the main line on its daily journey as the Ankara-Haydarpasa Bosporus. Running M.U. with it is an identical unit, which operates five days a week as the Ankara-Izmit Aegean. The two trains will diverge to their separate routes at the big junction point of Eskisehir.

Pull wires twang, the long-armed German-style semaphore swings up to the clear position, and the Mike glides through switch points to resume the main line. On an adjacent siding a light Lima (1942) 2-8-2 waits to follow the Express into Ankara with a train of center-door suburban cars.

East of Guvercin the Express is on suburban double track. Powered by a 2-8-2 identical to ours, the Taurus Express rolls west out of Ankara on the last leg of its long journey from Baghdad to the Bosporus.

Flat, spread-out factory buildings begin to appear beside the tracks. Monotonous developments of identical houses extend in precise rows across the dry plain. Except for the red tile roofs and the stuccoed walls characteristic of Turkey, suburban Ankara could be suburban Anywhere.

Closer in to the city, tall modern apartment buildings become frequent. The rails dive under a big superhighway bridge. A long suburban train, preceded by a tender-first U. S. Mike, scurries by on the westbound main.

On time at 9:10 a.m., the sleepers jolt through specialwork, slip by the large state railways headquarters building, and grind to a stop under the big trainsheds of the modern Ankara terminal. Luggage is passed through lowered windows to waiting porters, tips are pressed into the hand of the Wagons-Lits attendant, and we join the crowd headed for the cab stand. I

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