I do remember it well, in a way. I don't remember the general day-to-day events, and couldn't give you a timeline, but there are images, sounds, and just moments that are in my memory as if they were two hours ago. I should have been eight at the time.

Before moving to the city, we used to live in a village that was maybe a mile outside Iconium. Most of my extended family lived in the same village. I guess we were shepherds. We had sheep. We had lots of sheep. Most of my early memories seem to involve sheep. My father had just started taking me with him to watch the sheep when he was called up into the army. I don't actually remember him leaving, I guess it didn't stick with me because I did not see its significance at the time, but he sure didn't come back. It wasn't long after that that we left the village, probably on the theory that it was safer behind the city walls. I do remember leaving. It was very strange watching people let their sheep out into the wilderness before they left.

So, I was six when we moved to the city, I think. Yes, we were there for two years, '71 to '73. We, that is my mother, little sister, and me, lived with my aunt in a small, run-down house near the city wall. And that was a strange time. I had been to the city many times before, often staying with these relatives, but this time people were acting oddly. The adults, I should say. The kids still played as always, but the adults were worried. Worried is a good word. If I was walking down the street with my mother, and saw someone we knew, there wouldn't be a jovial "Hey! Good morning! How are the sheep!?" but instead some serious and solemn conversation about "the Turks" would start. "The Turks," that's all anyone ever talked about. They had gone to this place and that, and did this and that. And they would be coming here, or wouldn't, depending on who you asked. The most detailed answer I ever got about what "the Turks" were was "very bad people." Nobody wanted to talk to you about it, just because you were eight. So I imagined them to practically be monsters. Giants, with big claws and sharp teeth. Honest to God, when I first met a Turk some years later in Constantinople, I was very surprised. He was short and skinny! I'm sure he could not even bite my head off. Oh yes, some of the rumors were perpetuated by adults. "Go to bed or the Turks are gonna come and eat you." I'm sure it worked well.

In any case, we left very suddenly. One day they said the Turks were here. And it was for sure this time. People were leaving, and we were too. I recall there was a lengthy argument between my mother and aunt, as the latter refused to leave her house and all her possessions. And it was a strange thing to do, to leave with only what you could carry, and even that was mainly food, blankets, some clothes, and whatever valuables you had. Still, I don't really remember anything we left behind, I suppose we didn't have that much in the first place. But some of the people who left with us made some strange, strange decisions on what to take. Some of them had wagons and mules or oxen, and I distinctly remember one family that had taken with them all their furniture: beds, tables, chairs, everything. It must have made sense at the time, after all, where would they sit, sleep, and eat? Though I do seriously doubt any of those objects made Nicaea in the end.

It was a journey of several days, though how many exactly I could not tell you. It was very far, and it was very cold. At first it was more far than cold. I remember a terrible soreness in my legs, but I'll be damned if I complained once. All the kids complained, they wanted to go home, but I said not a thing. I even refused offers to be carried, and did walk the entire way. Sister had to be carried, and there were always men around who were willing to do it. The food that we brought did not last long, although it was never much of an issue. Most of the villages on the way had already been abandoned, and among the things they abandoned were stores of food, not to mention livestock who were out and about in the wilderness. At least in the first part of the trip, it was mainly the distance that was the issue. At night we most often slept on the ground with our blankets, although on two occasions we slept over in abandoned villages. The group of people eventually spread out and split into smaller groups as some made faster and some slower progress.

It was the second part of the journey that was more tough. The terrain closer to the coast had gotten mountainous, and we did have to scale a proper mountain pass. Going uphill was even worse, but at this point, the issue of distance had taken a secondary place compared to the cold. I think it got colder in general, it was raining every other day, and the increase in elevation did not help things. It was not long before we started seeing people getting sick and dying. At first you'd see people digging graves and performing funeral services along the route, but after a while you just saw bodies lying on the ground. Mainly the elderly at first, but all kinds of people eventually. At that point, I remember only the cold. And it was very cold. I had given my blanket to my sister after she developed a cough, and I was very cold. And despite my very warm blanket, sister's cough continued to get worse. One morning I woke up and she was not there, so I refused to leave. Mother and the others who were with us tried to convince me that she had gone ahead with a group of people, and I was eventually convinced, but then insisted on walking faster so that we would catch up. I wanted to run out ahead, but they would not let me, and I was absolutely furious. It was only when my mother started crying that it came to me, and that is when I stopped asking questions.

When we arrived at Nicaea, we found the place packed. There were people from all over Anatolia there, and more coming in every day. We were told that we could rest for a day, and were given food and shelter for that day, but then had to move on, as more people were coming in, and not everyone could be taken care of. We left Nicaea towards the Bosporus, but when we got there, we found that we had to pay our own way across. Can you imagine that? It was very expensive, and only in selling everything but the clothes on our backs did mother and I afford to sail across to Constantinople.

Mother died about three years after we arrived in Constantinople. I did various jobs, and was for the longest time a fisherman of all things. Although I was also involved in a number of not-quite-legal things, and did learn to handle myself with weapons. I would have become a soldier, but the army was in decline, and there was no opportunity. I moved out to Thessalonike looking for work when I was thirteen. Now I do believe I have related the story of how I came to be the Comes of Thessalonike many times to many people, but you, my dear, are the very first person to have heard this story related.