I have been to Kars
three times - during bleak autumnal rains, in glorious spring
sunshine, and now in the dirty-snow bone-chilling winter.
Somehow I like the winter the best. Turkish author Orhan Pamuk
paints a dismal picture of Kars in his book "Snow" ("Kars" in
Turkish). It is much the Kars for which I am developing a true
affection.
