In their flowing wedding gowns, Bacca and Moro traipsed the cavernous covered alleyways of Istanbul's Grand Bazaar. They posed on the shores of the Golden Horn, silhouetted against the sparkling blue water and a fairy-tale backdrop of the spires and minarets of the Old City.
In some of the pictures and video, passersby can be seen doing double takes at the sight of the two "brides." But mostly, the looks the pair attracted appeared to be friendly and curious, amused or bemused.
No sign of hatred. No hostility. No threat. In Turkey, hospitality is so deeply ingrained in the culture that its absence is considered shameful.
Even in Istanbul, where the yammering hucksterism of any tourist capital is on ready display, visitors are overwhelmed by the degree of kindness and courtesy shown them. A simple request for directions is often answered with an invitation to tea or to lunch. An outsider in obvious distress in all likelihood will be surrounded by strangers offering aid.
Spending days in this milieu, Bacca and Moro might have developed a false sense of security, some who met them say. And this might have led to a fateful decision: to part ways for the next leg of the journey, with plans to meet up in Beirut.
On the morning of March 31, Bacca was dropped off by friends on the outskirts of Istanbul and began hitchhiking. She headed east, crossing over the soaring Bosporus bridge, with a final glimpse of the toy-sized boats far below, and on to Turkey's Asian landmass.
By midmorning, she had made her way as far as Gebze, about 40 miles to the southeast, a gateway to the conservative Anatolian heartland.
The town dates to Byzantine times, but these days, it is an unlovely landscape, scarred with belching factory smokestacks and prefabricated buildings housing heavy manufacturing.
Bacca made a credit-card purchase in Gebze, police said later. And she was spotted at the rest stop near the town's edge, where many motorists paused for a quick meal at the McDonald's or a fill-up at the busy, well-kept gas station, with its long rows of pumps.
"We were surprised to see her -- we couldn't understand what she was doing, dressed as she was," said Kemal Acikgoz, a pump attendant. "But if she had seemed worried or frightened in any way, someone would have helped her."
It seems that she found a ride without difficulty. The driver, police later established, was an itinerant laborer and convicted thief who lived in Gebze, not far from the truck stop.
