angora
"The crowd on the platform looked sombre in the twilight. A slender grey figure emerged from it and moved quickly towards the train, pulling his gloves off. His face, with its large-cornered kalpak, had become indistinct and colourless in the dusk... The door of our compartment opened suddenly, and Mustafa Kemal´s hand reached up to help me down the step (...) ´Welcome, Hanum Effendi", he said in a low voice. This was Angora. This, she thought to herself, was to be the Kaaba - the Mecca - of the Nationalist Movement. Angora at this time was little more than a pair of twin hills, rising like nipples from the bosom of the Anatolian plateau. Crowning one of them were the half-ruined walls of a citadel which had seen and survived notable Turkish conflicts. Clambering up to it and around it and within it was a human warren of mud-brick houses and ruins of houses, huddled lattice to lattice and roof above roof amid dunghills and winding precipitous lanes. Rough with stones a...