What thou seest, write in a book and send it to the seven churches: unto Ephesus, and unto Smyrna ... (Revelation 1:11)

The whole time I was in Turkey, I just couldn't get Israel out of my mind. After all, the two countries have a lot in common: an abudance of feral cats and mangy dogs, a domination by small children, an affinity for ice cream, a network of confusing shared taxis (sheruts/dolmuşes), a proliferation of gas-station restaurants and cafes, a peculiarity of trash-littered remoteness, a defiance against Arab associations, and a denial of minority oppression. But mostly, the diversity of geography was cause for comparison: Both contain seas, lakes, rivers, mountains, forests, deserts, pastures, fields, groves, and of course cities.

We started our 12-day tour in Istanbul, the Tel Aviv-like hub of commerce and entertainment. First on our agenda was a cruise down the Bosphorus Strait to its mouth to the Black Sea, along which there were great views of the waterline from the boat, including Rumeli Fortress, and of the area from an old castle at the final stop. But being that it was on a public ferry, it was hardly the relaxation of trolling on a sailboat in the Mediterranean, where one can stare all day at the gleaming coastline. One point Israel.


The castle at the end of the Bosphorus cruise was rather crumbly, but Istanbul proper had some more solid -- and stunning -- architecture. The grand dame of the city is Aya Sofya, a cathederal ordered to be built by Constantinople as the largest at the time of its construction. The sixth-century structure was overwhelmed with renovations, though, so we headed instead to the 17th-century Sultan Ahmed Mosque, named after the man who built it to rival the Aya Sofya and nicknamed the Blue Mosque for its decorative interior tiles. The interior of the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem is off limits to non-Muslims, but its gold-plated dome is awing enough; plus, the seventh-century mosque is the oldest Islamic building in the world (The Aya Sofya was originally created as a church, not a mosque). The serenity of the mosque's surroundings on the Temple Mount, as opposed to the loud tourists and incongruous vacuum in Sultan Ahmed Mosque, gives Israel another point.


Another major attraction in Istanbul is Topkapi Palace, the home of Ottoman sultans for almost 500 years. As intriguing as it sounded to take a tour of the palace's harem, we didn't have time for more than a stroll around the palace grounds. We hit the very end of the city's tulip festival, so it was in incredible bloom. Tulips, though, are hardly a match for the conscientiously groomed flora at the Bahai Gardens in Haifa. But at least you can picnic near Topkapi without arranging a tour months in advance, like you must do for Bahai. This one's a push.


Tranquility is nice, but there's something to be said for frenzy as well, which is why we dove into the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, which claims to be the largest shopping mall in the world with more than 4,000 vendors. As you might imagine, the bazaar is easy to get lost in. The shopping quarters of Jerusalem's quarters are no different, but at least there, you -- literally -- run into a wall. In Istanbul, it's hard to even tell when you've left the bazaar and wandered into nearby streets, perhaps even all the way to the Spice Market, which is blocks -- and I mean blocks -- away, by the Golden Horn. In terms of wares, the markets both have the requisite souvenirs and knock-off designer goods. Jerusalem edges out Istanbul because of its food offerings, which are more diverse than doner kebab and tea. Israel is in the lead with three points.


After only a few days in the secular West, we hopped on a plane to the more religious East. From Trabzon, our base on the Black Sea, we took a dolmuş to Sümela Monastery, built on a cliff after a Virgin Mary icon was found in a cave there in the fourth century. The dolmuş, however, did not drop us at the doorstep. We had to take a steep, 30-minute hike, with backpacks, to witness the site's glory. But glorious it was. The way the buildings are built seamlessly into the rock showed me that these people must have figured out how to commune with nature. And the spectacular frescoes surely put it above the Masada, a Judean fortress where Jewish fugitives elected to commit suicide rather than be captured by the Romans in the first century. I wouldn't know, for sure, since I didn't have time to make the hike up to the top of the cliff. But then again, there is a cable car to the top, which proves that the hike must not be that worth it. Turkey scores its first point.


We spent a short night in Erzurum, a valley town surrounded by snow-capped mountains, including Palandöken, a ski resort. From a clock tower in the city's citadel, you could turn 360 degrees and continuously see pallid peaks. Mount Hermon has a ski resort too, but I was barely able to get some proof that it does actually snow in Israel. To show the powder-covered slopes, I would've fell off an outcropping at Nimrod Fortress. The mere specks of white just beyond the hills give Turkey a second point.


Erzurum was mainly just a stopover point on the way to Kars, which we decided to visit after reading Orhan Pamuk's Snow, a novel about the East-West conflict that is set in the town. The book is very atmospheric, with foreboding descriptions that we witnessed from a lookout at Kars Castle. The clouds, in the book and in the city, intimated the sense of oppression coming from the never-ending battle over the wearing of head scarves, one among many religion-secularism debates. From the ramparts of Jerusalem's old city, the same battle is represented in the meshing of crosses and antennas, similar in shape and symbolism. Whose struggle is more interesting, illuminating, or important? It's another push.


Kars itself was even more intriguing than we might have thought, but the highlight was a day trip to Ani, the fifth-century capital of an Armenian kingdom. Now, of course, it is just ruins opposite the border with present-day Armenia. You can even see military watch towers beyond the remaining city walls. Israel has a similar ancient site: Nimrod Fortress, a 13th-century stronghold built to defend Damascus. Now, of course, it is just ruins opposite the border with present-day Syria. Both land grabs are equal in significance, but when it comes to feeling that magnitude at the site, Turkey ties up the score.


Just in time, after the clear connection of land to politics, we jetted off to the capital, Ankara, Turkey's Jerusalem-like center of government and patriotism. One of Tim's former students, Sinem, took us on a tour of the must-see site: Anıtkabir, Atatürk's mausoleum. The park is a shrine to the first president, admired by many for his transformation of Turkey into a secular nation-state and therefore world player. Crowds throng the memorial, just like at the Church of Nativity, recognized as a shrine by Christians and Muslims, both of whom view Jesus as a messenger of God. Incidentally, that same shrine was where nine Palestinians were killed in a siege by Israeli forces in April 2002. Both places -- and people -- are not necessarily as revered by everyone as their proponents might think. But when it comes to putting on the best show of deference, Turkey goes a point ahead.


From manmade wonders, we proceeded to the natural wonders of Goreme, where large mounds of spewed volcanic ash have been eroded into precarious towers of rock. These "fairy chimneys" are nearly indescribable, perhaps most similar to the geological arches in the national park in Utah. Israel's greatest natural wonder is Ramon Crater, the country's equivalent of the Grand Canyon. The crater is surrounded by native Israeli fauna: the ibex and the Jericho missile. On the way to the crater, I nearly drove off the road when I heard a blast from the nearby military zone. The overwhelming tourism of the Cappadocia area was almost as disconcerting, but once you got hiking away from the tour groups, it was no contest: Turkey is now two points ahead.


The many residents of Cappadocia -- including Persians, Romans, and Selçuks -- all carved living and worshipping rooms into the pillars of stone. Some even created entire underground cities to escape religious persecution, such as monks in the fourth century before Christianity was recognized. In the 13th century, the Knights Templar used an underground tunnel from the port to a fortress in Akko to help secure pilgrims coming to Jerusalem when the area was under Muslim rule during the Crusades. Both notable pursuits to be sure, but the monks get credit for working within the constraints of their environment. Turkey takes over Israel's once three-point lead.


We had planned to spend a night in a treehouse on the Mediterranean coast, but because of limited bus schedules, we had to settle for a morning in Antalya, a popular port for gulets, wooden tourist boats. A common pitch for the tours is the offer to swim in some nearby coastal waterfalls, such as the one right around the corner from the port. In Israel, it's an annual summertime tradition for many to cool off in the pools of Ein Gedi, created by waterfalls that eventually flow into the Dead Sea. Israel earns a point for its less logistical -- and less expensive -- option.


If we had taken a dip, it wouldn't have been in a waterfall, but at the beach of Bodrum, a relax-by-day party-by-night coastal retreat. The water and weather wasn't quite warm enough for my taste, but it was still nice to sip tea while taking in views of the Aegean. We couldn't deny the opportunity to float in the Dead Sea when we had it, despite even cooler weather. Experiencing the weird sense of weightlessness was definitely more worthy than wading into your only typically salty sea. Israel has brought the tally back to a close 6-5.


From Bodrum, we spent a long morning of dolmuş hopping to get to Ephesus, the former capital of western Asia Minor, second only in prominence to Rome during the Classical era. Not much remains of the city's temples and harbor besides some attempts at reconstruction, but individual details, such as statues and carvings are well-preserved. At the same time as the rise of Ephesus, Herod the Great, the Roman kind of Judea, was building Caesarea as a tribute to the emperor. The foundations of the city -- the amphitheater, the hippodrome, the palace, the baths, the aqueduct, and the harbor -- are much more clearly recognizable and explained than in Ephesus, but the details aren't as stunning. Overall, though, Caesarea is a better place to spend a couple hours. The score is tied once again.


After a grueling schedule of ferry rides, plane flights, bus hauls, and sidewalk hikes, I was ready for a good bed in Izmir (known as Smyrna in Homer's time), Turkey's Haifa-like center of industry and transportation, on Tim's Hilton points. Much to my surprise, when we arrived, backpack- and sweat-laden, we were immediately whisked to the executive lounge, where we ate a buffet dinner as they checked us in. With a free breakfast, including pastries, until 11 a.m. and free drinks, including alcohol, until 11 p.m., we didn't wander the town for much of the day. I have only had a drink at the Hilton in Tel Aviv, so Vered Hagilil, a ranch overlooking the Sea of Galilee, is my only source of the Israeli resort experience. The cheap Thai massage with jacuzzi cooldown was great, but it can't beat free booze and bacon. Drinking bought beer while playing the pig game just isn't the same.


So Turkey wins by a point, but perhaps one bought with complimentary slippers and toiletries. In the end, though, we barely scratched the surface of Turkey. More than half of our guidebook could still be gobbled up with more trips. On the other hand, the unexplored regions of Israel are dwindling fast. If traveling were a seven-game series, Turkey would definitely win the championship. After all, it is about 30 times the size of Israel.