THE FORBIDDEN VALLEY

ARCHAEOLOGY NEWSFLASH NO.664

It happened, , on my trip into the forbidden valley.

THE FORBIDDEN VALLEY

My hands shook as I read the warning note.

“Firstly, you should be aware that there is an ongoing war between the Turkish Security Forces and Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) guerrillas.

“People are being killed on the streets by unidentified murderers and none of them was unidentified or arrested. Therefore it is really risky and dangerous to travel in Kurdistan.

“There is a strong possibility that security forces will arrest or detain you if they see your travel visa issued by any Kurdish organisation. Therefore you should not show your visa to any Turkish official.”

So warned the FAX message sent to me with my Kurdish “visa”.

It had been a scary week. And now our bus was being stopped by Turkish police.

“Everyone out. We’re going to search your baggage.”

The uniformed Turkish officer was coming along the line. He would soon reach my baggage.

Stuffed inside my sleeping-bag cover was my safe-passage document issued by the outlawed Kurds. If the Turks found it, we were finished.

I had to do something fast.

Looking quickly to see if anyone was watching me, I thrust my hand inside the cover of the sleeping-bag, pulled out that document, and nervously stuffed it behind my belt at the back of my trousers.

Only then did I look up – and realised someone was watching. And while they watched… the piece of paper slid down my legs back on to the ground.

THE GRAVE MARKERS

Archaeologists recognise place names as a record of history. And, according to local place names, the eight human survivors of the Great Flood settled here, in eastern Turkey, in the famous Valley of Eight.

In this wild region American archaeologist Ron Wyatt had discovered two very ancient graves. And the inscriptions were unmistakable.

They represented probably the first post-Flood grave marker on this planet, that of a famous man’s wife. And nearby, that of the husband himself – a man called Noah.

Here was evidence of a man that many had thought was only a legend.

The two grave markers bore an ancient, petroglyph portrayal of Noah’s death on one marker and that of his wife on the other. These grave markers were in the front of a very ancient stone house.

Below the rainbow (associated worldwide with the Flood account), on the left was the crest of a wave, and atop the wave a boat. To the right of this were eight stick characters.

It was clear who they were. Two larger figures (male and female), accompanied by three smaller men (their sons) and behind them three women (their sons’ wives).

According to the ancient book of Genesis, the sole human survivors of the Great Flood were Noah and his wife, their three sons Shem, Ham and Japheth, and their sons’ wives.

The inscription showed the woman crouching. Her head was bowed and her eyes closed. And the other seven were walking away from her. She must have been the first of them to go.

In front of the adjacent village was an ancient wall faced with tiles. Engraved on the tiles was a sequence of pictures portraying an event.

Firstly, animals were shown entering the survival vessel. There were eight people shown.

Secondly were portrayed the faces of other people, around the Ark.

Then the Ark was shown, riding on a wave.

The deity was depicted, with water flowing from His feet.

And eight people were depicted under a rainbow.

NIGHT ROBBERY

But the most exciting find was the two grave markers. Let me ask, could you keep such a discovery secret? Ron was exploding. He wanted to shout it to the world!

“That’s incredible,” gasped one of the archaeological team “I have to see this!”

Trembling with excitement, Ron drove the man out to Kazan. You might call Ron naive. He trusted that his friend would feel the same awe that had moved him. A reverence, if you like.

Very soon after, something happened. Mehmet, the village mayor, looked both ways down the street, then yanked the visitor inside.

The pact was sealed with a drink and the visitor crept out into the darkness and sped off with no lights on.

Within hours, one of the two graves was dug up.

GOVERNMENT INVESTIGATION

“Mr Wyatt, we want to find out if you have any knowledge of who could have done such a thing.”

The Turkish authorities were most concerned. They informed him that over 100 million U.S. dollars worth of gold and gemstones had been stolen from the grave.

One item, a bodice around her waist, with large stones in it, had sold on the black-market in Istanbul for $75 million dollars!

Of course, it had to be quite an incredible piece, and the description of this one item was more than a person could comprehend.

The Turkish authorities tracked down the source of the artefacts through their intelligence on activities in the Black Market – but the perpetrator himself eluded capture.

However, the chief of the village near the gravesite – Mehmet – has been identified as an accomplice. His share of the proceeds, it appears, has enabled him to buy his way out of trouble with authorities.

As you know, there is corruption at high levels in all countries.

Turkish authorities have been seeking to recover these precious artefacts. They told us they wereaware of the identity of the man most likely to have committed this outrage.

As it happened, he dropped from our team and from the public eye shortly after the theft from the two graves.

THE WARNINGS

You may understand, my heart was set on getting over to Kazan.

After all, out there were some of the first anchor stones to be dropped from the Ark as it was coming in to land.

There also the first post-Flood family built a house, tilled the ground. And there, finally, Noah and his wife had been buried.

Just think about it! This place was the ancestral home of us all.

I confided my plans to Dr Allen Roberts, a former member of the team.

“Don’t go, Jonathan,” he warned. “It’s too dangerous. People disappear.”

I spoke to Ron. “Keep away from Kazan,” he urged. “They’ll kill you.”

Yes, Ron’s discoveries had catalysed the grave robberies there. Subsequently, the chief had plotted Ron’s death. The concern was valid.

But how deeply I longed to go in and document what was there!

After all, this was the place of our roots – of all of us on this planet. This was an important discovery. This was where it all began. I just had to go in there and record it.

Nevertheless, I had been well appraised of the danger.

Yet this whole thing kept nagging at me. I determined to take all possible precautions.

Over several months, I contacted representatives of the Kurdish guerrillas for a letter of safe passage into their rebel region of Turkey.

Perhaps naively, I hoped that if in danger of being kidnapped, I could show this document to any hostile band and gain release.

INTO DANGER VALLEY

On the way out to Kazan, my driver stopped to pick up a man who introduced himself as the village chief.

Trevor nudged me.  “He looks sinister.”

The man gave another name, but I recognised him as Mehmet, the man against whom Ron had warned me.

He accompanied us to some anchor stones lying near the village.

Some of the village children eyed us from a distance.

We wandered over to a rise, where two of the anchors were now being used upside down as grave markers.

Then we headed for a hill about a mile west of the village.

From here we could look back toward the village, set in a bowl depression.

As we ascended the hill, I kept noticing holes in the ground.

It turned out that since finding valuables in Noah’s wife’s grave, the villagers had been digging up other graves in the area, in the hope of finding more treasure.

On top of the hill lay another anchor stone, dropped, evidently, when the survival vessel sailed over this peak.  The cable hole on one anchor was broken.

For an hour Mehmet and his deputy guided us over the Valley of Eight, to anchor stones (drogue stones), altars and inscriptions.

But my eyes kept scanning for the spot I had really come to see.  All these other things were, of course, interesting – but the site of Noah’s house and grave – that was why I was really here.

Though I was careful not to let Mehmet see me looking for them.

Then eventually, from the summit of this hill, I recognised the location, to the north of the village.

Back near the village itself, our hosts were knocking stones from a wall to show us an old inscription.

But that was not why I was here. I was silently impatient.

TURNING POINT

It was now or never.  The risk had to be taken.  Dangerous it could be if the chief discovered what I really knew of Ron, himself and the grave robbery.

Better to feign ignorance, throw in someone else’s name. Someone that I knew he trusted.

Swallowing hard, I drew a sketch of Noah’s gravestone and mentioned the name of anotherperson, one whose name would not make him suspicious.

“David Fasold saw this?” I queried, pointing to the sketch.
“Is this somewhere around here?”Mehmet instantly recognised it.  Agitation showed.  “No, not David Fasold!” he snapped quickly.

The friendly man had now turned savage.

Then he paused, weighing his words.  “On my land – over there.”

I did not know it at the time, but this man carried a gun under his jacket.

Now, instead of taking us to the place we wanted to go, where I knew the house and the grave sites to be, Mehmet a nd his henchman skirted that area, then drew us away from it.

We passed the giant 12-foot altar which overlooked it all … and kept going!

Up on the hill, beyond the big altar, Ron had seen human bones – and a skull with hair still on it – which dogs had been devouring.

This man, Ron believed, was a killer.  It was up this same hill that Mehmet was now luring me.

“How far is it?” I asked.

Just 100 metres” was the reply

We covered that distance and I grew suspicious.  There was a rock with some marks on it, but the grave marker would not have been brought up here.

“How far now?” I pressed.

“Come,” he said.

“How far?  You said 100 metres.  How far is it?”

“Just one kilometre more,” said the man.  “Come.”

I recalled the plot to get Ron into the hills and kill him.

It was time to act – fast.  I turned to Sayim, my driver.

“Tell him the sun is getting low.  We must turn back.”

I wheeled around.  Having been toward the rear of the party, I was now in front, racing down the hill, back toward the 12-foot altar.

My team member Trevor was waiting further down.

Meanwhile, back at the car, the children of these grave robbers were pilfering my bag.

In the open, I felt a little safer.  Shooting with my camera, I headed straight into the area that Mehmet had avoided taking me – the site of Noah’s house and the two graves.  I turned and took another shot, looking back.

As Trevor and I leapt into the car, we were accosted by some of Mehmet’s men. We arched our bodies low in the car, as our driver sped off.

CONCLUSION

And oh, about that baggage search, in case you were wondering…

I still have the piece of paper that I stuffed down behind my trousers, and that fell to the ground…  that visa from the outlawed Kurds.

And in case you are wondering what that other passenger did when he saw me hiding it and it fell to the ground, I think he must have been a Kurd, because he didn’t tell the Turkish police what he had seen occur.

On our 8-part DVD set, “Surprising Discoveries”, this story and others are shown.

All around the world this is being acclaimed as an outstanding string of discoveries.

So today I want to help you have it at the lowest price ever.

To claim your copy now at this special give away price, please  go to http://www.beforeus.com/8videos.html

Best wishes
Jonathan Gray


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Please email me your questions. I am here to help you  with any questions on ancient mysteries. Just email  me at info@archaeologyanswers.com
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International explorer, archaeologist and author Jonathan Gray has travelled the world to gather data on ancient mysteries. He has penetrated some largely unexplored areas, including parts of the Amazon headwaters. The author has also led expeditions to the bottom of the sea and to remote mountain and desert regions of the world. He lectures internationally.
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