My summer officially started with the arrival of my terrific friend, Linda. Linda and I worked together at Tutta Bella Restaurant in Seattle before setting off on our careers. I left for this teaching job while Linda was still in school studying elementary education. This past spring, she flew out to Prague to complete her student teaching at the Prague British School. It is funny how life turns out some times. All of a sudden, it was easier to meet each other on this side of the world, which we did with Linda's two week visit to Turkey.
Day 1: Faralya
Linda arrived, spent a day here packing and preparing for the trail, then we took off for southwestern Turkey. We arrived in Dalaman, a city with nothing more to offer than its airport, and left right away for the George House in Faralya. The George House sits atop of a steep valley called Butterfly Valley. Due to the fact that the valley is only accessible by boat or somewhat treacherous hike, this area was untouched until the 1960s. Since then, it has been discovered by tourists and hikers and named for the butterflies and Jersey Tiger moths.
We arrived at our pansiyon, got a quick tour of the facilities and after a stern warning to stay to the trail markers ("or else we will have to come rescue you"), descended into the valley. The trail was steep enough at times to need ropes, which had been tied securely to the rocks for anyone who came by. We finally made it to the bottom, hiked through the high growth until we came to the opening signalling the start of the sandy beach. Bars dotted the beach selling water, soda, and beer. Camps were set up on the higher area over the water. Boats from nearby Olu Deniz were bobbing in the shallow water. We quickly realized in our excitement to start our adventure, we forgot to bring swim gear. We quickly stripped down to our sports bras and jumped in the beautiful clear waters of the Mediterranean, then went to grab a beer as we dried off before heading back up. We made it back to the George House to see the beautiful sunset over the valley.
Day 2: Faralya to Kabak Beach
We took off for Kabak Beach the next morning. Under the recommendation of the George House worker (whose name we forgot so we named Kat for our own reference), we decided to take the Coastal Trail rather than the Lycian Way trail to Kabak. We followed the yellow and red trail markings through the pine forests along the sea. Every once in a while, a beautiful beach tempted us to jump in, but the thought of hiking in wet clothes kept us going. After 8 km of hiking, we finally caught view of the picturesque Kabak beach. Our arrival was just in time, because the hangriness (anger or grumpiness caused by hunger) was hitting us. Looking back at it now, the treks got much easier as we got in better walking shape, used to the heat and packs, and learned how to properly band-aid our feet for our shoes. That being said, this first day's trek was still very enjoyable and scenic. We found a pansiyon called Shambala located on a hill overlooking the beach. We sat down for a beer and toasted our first day's hike. Then we headed down to the beach for a swim and little sunbathing (with plenty of sunscreen, no sunburns allowed!). We ate that evening at the pansiyon. The food was amazing. Then we found some perfect stargazing chairs and did exactly that as the waves of the Mediterranean crashed below us. It was a magical hour. Only later as we were climbing into bed when a Scottish friend (who we we met earlier) yelled at our cabin "Happy Fourth girls!" did we realize that this was the Fourth of July. Although we didn't realize we were celebrating it at the time, the stargazing over the Mediterranean was a beautiful way to celebrate our nation's holiday.
Day 3: Kabak Beach to Alinca to Gey
I had spent weeks before this trip putting together a first aid kit. We had aloe, antiseptic, bug spray, chlorine for purifying water, bandaids, meds for pain, allergies, and diarrhea, and even a round of antibiotics. We woke up this morning in Kabak covered with bug bites despite the fact that we slept under mosquito netting. Unfortunately, I had completely overlooked packing calamine lotion or anything that would have given us some relief for the bug bites that continued to dot our bodies (more so poor Linda than mine). Little did we know at the time, but we were days away from seeing a pharmacy or anything that could help out with this.
The hike to Alinca was uphill and stunning. We decided to take the Lycian Way (which we would take for the rest of the trip), therefore following the red and white trail markers. The Lycian Way is a 510 km trail spanning from Faralya (where we started) to Antalya nominated by the Sunday Times as a top ten best walk in the world. We hiked up and up until Kabak beach was just a speck by the Mediterranean. We hiked through the pine forests in the mountains, past beautiful rock faces. As we ascended, we were able to see not just Kabak beach, but also Butterfly Valley and Olu Deniz (a popular tourist beach town) further behind.
We finally arrived 750 meters higher in Alinca in the early afternoon after 7 km of trekking. After our first two nights, I was a little disappointed and fearful that this trek was more touristy than I expected. The next three days erased these fears and disappointment completely. After Kabak and until we got to Patara, we were the only travelers on the road and in the towns. All our interactions were with locals. The town of Alinca was the first such place. The town was comprised of a handful of unassuming homes with a beautiful view of the ocean far below. The nearest store or market was 8 kilometers away. A sweet lady saw us hiking in and eagerly gestured for us to sit down at a picnic bench outside her home. She brought us water and homemade ayran (first time trying this Turkish slightly-salty yogurt drink for Linda), then busied herself inside throwing together a lunch feast. After serving us, she pulled up a chair and proudly watched us woof down her food. When we had set off that morning, the possibility of staying in Alinca was left open, but we quickly realized this would not be a good option. As cute and hospitable as this lady was, we would have absolutely nothing to do for the remaining part of the day. We therefore refilled our waterbottles, strapped on our packs, and said our good-byes to Alinca.
We then started a steep decline out of Alinca. Uphill is never fun, but downhill is far worse. The gravel slid under our feet. With the added weight on our back, the danger seemed exponentially worse. I slipped on some of the gravel and fell into a prickly bush. We cleaned my scraped up hands immediately and got away with just a slivered, but uninfected hand. A little later, Linda slipped on the gravel, but she too escaped without an injury. At times we crossed rock slide paths, walking quietly and carefully. There was no need to tell each other that a slip could easily be a long slide down gravel to what seemed like no end. As we carefully set one foot after the other, we occasionally felt safe enough to look up and see goats grazing around us and the Mediterranean below us. The ground finally evened out and we saw our first olive orchards on terraced land overlooking the sea. We passed an old Ottoman cistern in one of these orchards. Finally, the mosque of Gey came into our sight and we almost started running to the town. We were hungry and tired after our 15 km day. We walked in to this little farm town. Roosters roamed freely. Tractors were the transportation choice. We found a small shop and sat down for a popsicle called a Twister, a beautiful treat Linda had discovered in Prague. After gobbling down the popsicle, the store owner, a sweet young mother, came up to us and asked if we wanted to stay. When we asked where, she pointed up above the shop. A glance up revealed she was talking about a covered, but open porch over the shop. Linda and I glanced at each other, shrugged, and said, sure. We set down our packs and took a quick walk around the town to see if we could find some new socks (mine were too short and my heels were rubbing against my shoes) but found the only other small market in town had nothing. Both markets were smaller than a gas station's back in the States. We then returned, asked for some beers, got out some cards, and settled in to our home for the evening. The town kids came out and played on the street in front of us and provided a perfect entertainment for the evening. We had brought some mini Oreos with us. We gave them a package and smiled as we saw them excitedly rip into them and divvy them up.
Day 4: Gey to Bel to Gavuragili
The open porch which allowed for great entertainment the night before did not seem so quaint in the morning. At the first light of dawn, around 5am, we heard the call to prayer. Then, for the next two hours, we heard the roosters. Linda said it sounded like they were telling jokes back and forth, at times laughing at each other. I thought it sounded like they were competing, trying to be the loudest and longest. Each cock-a-doodle-doo was followed by another. Sometimes they overlapped. No matter what it sounded like, neither of us could sleep through this raucous. Finally, as the morning light became intense and we kicked off our heavy blankets to sweat directly under the direct morning light, were we able to sleep for about two hours from 7-9am.
After breakfast, we set out for Bel, a short 6 km trek. Compared to the day before, the hike was quite easy. We passed by many more olive orchards and even more goats, the two main sources of income in this area. The trek was a relatively easy one, despite the fact that we had to stop several times to find the trail. There were parts of the Lycian Way that were very well marked, parts very poorly marked. When we would get to portions that were poorly marked, much extra time was spent looking for waymarkers. Not far out of Gey, we had such a difficult time that we actually threw our packs down so we were not lugging these things as we continued to widen our circle around the last seen marker. In the end, we always did find the markers. We arrived into Bel in the early afternoon.
Our initial plan had been to take an easier day that day, find a place to stay in Bel, then take a day hike to see the ancient city of Sidyma. Our plans changed, though, once we got to Bel. The town was very quiet and there were no signs for accommodations as we entered the town. The town had no view of the ocean, but olive orchards stretched on the mountaintops around. We heard some voices coming from under a grape arbor in front of a house and decided to go ask them where we might find some food. As we entered, we saw an old lady sitting in a wheelchair, a group of middle aged women and men, and three young children all sitting around talking and drinking tea. I asked if there was a place for food and was told there was no restaurant in this town. The man then turned to the woman of the house, said a few things, then turned to us and said, but we will feed you. They sat us down. The same man who invited us in (and knew some English) scurried off and returned with two boys around 14 years of age. We were the entertainment. We tried to talk a little in English and Turkish, but neither side knew enough of the other language to really have a conversation. Then the food was served and everything went silent. We ate and 8 sets of eyes just stared at us. I turned to Linda and said "we are not staying here." Despite the uncomfortable attention, the food hit the spot and we enjoyed the meal. As we ate, conversation did start and our discomfort was eased. They then served us tea and happily refilled all our water bottles. With the exception of the 5 minutes under scrutiny, it was another terrific stop at the home of very hospitable Turks. We again gave the kids some mini Oreos and watched them dive into the package. We had to make the lady take our 30 lira for the food. She just wanted to keep 10 (about $5).
Since we had decided over lunch that we were moving on, we strapped the packs on and headed out of Bel for the next town of Gavuraligi. The hike was another downhill climb similar to the Alinca-Gey trek. We came to a house on the walk and a young, sweet lady (we later learned her name was Fatma) met us and invited us in for a drink. We knew we had not yet hiked the 10 km to Gavuraligi, but thought sitting for an ayran sounded nice. When we asked how much further to Gavuraligi, we were shocked to hear her say that we were here. Our improvement in endurance and strength became apparent. We had just completed this tough downhill trek in less than 2.5. hours. After some ayran and the absorption of this news, we decided to stay at this pansiyon. Since we had trekked so far (another 16 km day in 100 degree weather), we had the luxury of staying there for two nights. We dropped our things off and took off for the Gavuraligi beach. We spent the evening there on the rocky beach and watched the sun set behind the beach before heading up for food at our pansiyon.
Day 5: the Turkish beach
Since we had a day that we did not need to travel, we decided to go to a nearby sandy beach near Pydnai. Someone from the pansiyon dropped us off. It took us only a minute of surveying the beach scene that we were the only foreigners. Turkish beach-goers were all around us. Men ran around in swim trunks, while ladies in their peasant bloomers and head scarves went in the water fully clothed. Funny enough, the little girls ran around in their little bikinis. After spending a few hours in the beach, we headed up to the beach cafe for some food and beers before trekking back to the pansiyon. We were met at the pansiyon with a feast of fish, wine, and great company from the owners and their little five-year-old Bahar. In conversation, it came up how much Linda loved the village bloomers. Fatma disappeared into the house and emerged with a pair of homemade ones, a gift for Linda.
Day 6: Letoon to Xanthos to Patara
We again got a ride from the pansiyon to the nearby ruins of Letoon. We walked through the ancient chapels, one still containing a mosaic, and later built church, and theater, before moving on. We then grabbed our packs and headed for Xanthos, a 4 km trek past greenhouse after greenhouse of vegetables. Along the way, we saw the first pharmacy on the entire trek and finally got some ointment for the bug bites. Xanthos was a bigger city set up on the hill overlooking modern day Kinik. Xanthos is recorded as the largest city in the Lycian League. It later passed through the hands of the Persians, then Greeks, and finally Romans. Most of the remains seen today were from the Romans, but some still remain from the ancient Lycians. We walked past the ancient walls, the gymnasium, theater, homes, agora, and ancient tombs.
Linda and I then caught a dolmus to Patara, our final location and the official end to our trek. We toasted this with mojitos at a nearby outdoor bar and a big Turkish dinner with mezes and guvec (a delicious Turkish casserole).
Day 7: Patara
We started the day with a massage by "Magic Hands Ali,"a thorough hour long massage for a mere 50 TL($25). We wandered over to the Patara ruins and were astounded by the size and quality of them. Each stop, Letoon, then Xanthos, and finally Patara, seemed to be getting bigger and better. Like Xanthos, Patara was an important city in the Lycian League, carrying the most votes and holding meetings for the officials in their convention hall. We walked through the city gates, old main street, several old baths, the theater, and convention center. Like Xanthos, Patara passed from Lycian to Greek, then Roman hands.
Afterwards, the heat of the day caught up with us (well over 100 degree days) and we decided to not head to the beach, but rather head back to the AC and take a nap, then went to a local restaurant for dinner. Earlier that day, as we were passing through town, we had met this restaurant owner. He asked us to help him with the English and spelling for the billboards he wanted in front of the restaurant. We helped him with it, then decided to return to try out this menu. Upon sitting, I was confused to see the same exact menu (with the exception that it was more poorly worded) across the street. Linda just nodded knowing. She had seen this as we were writing his menu earlier. The owner had written the same exact menus as the restaurant across the street. There were two set menus plus free garlic bread, all on wood fire. I was surprised, then just had to laugh it off. You had to give it to this guy. At least he wasn't trying to put this neighbor out of business. Even the prices were the exact same.
Our server that evening did his best to impress us. When we refused dessert, he said he wanted to give us complimentary fruit. Five minutes passed, and I saw one of the younger kid employees come back from an errand with a bag of fruit. This guy was working so hard to please us he had sent the kid out to get some fruit just for us. You have to love it. We had to work hard to stifle our laughter as the same fruit now cut up appeared on the table 2 minutes later. We then went to get some gozleme, (Turkish pancake) and tea. We had my favorite, lemon and sugar. It was a lovely relaxing evening.
Day 7: Patara
We woke up early and headed out to the Patara beach. It was stunning. The sand spanned further than we could see. We negotiated for some cheaper umbrellas and chairs since we had to leave for the airport that afternoon, then spent a few hours getting our last fill of the Mediterranean before catching the bus for Dalaman and the airport.
A dolmus took us to the main road where we caught our bus. The bus ride was nice and air-conditioned. The bus assistant let us know when we got to Dalaman. As we got out and saw just a strip mall along the highway, we turned to him one last time. Dalaman? we asked somewhat panicked. He nodded. Nothing we could do but look at each other and laugh. We had been hoping to get some food before heading to the airport, but there was nothing but toast, which didn't appeal to either of us. So instead we grabbed some snacks at a little shop and took a 45TL flat rate cab ride to the airport. After what seemed like a 5 minute ride, we pulled in to the ancient airport and we sadly handed over a 50 TL. The driver told us he had no change. We gave him the eyes saying "that's your problem buddy." He ran into the airport, went through security, ran up to the airlines counters and found nothing. We waited. He came running back out. We continued to wait. He ran down some stairs and emerged 5 minutes later, this time victoriously. He gave us our 5TL. Linda later told me she almost gave it back to him, "you keep it buddy." We walk in, two hours before our flight back to Istanbul, and the desk was not open. The sign saying kafeterya was inside the security, so we have to sit on the other side of this hell hole of a place and open our snacks. Unfortunately, we have chosen poorly on our snacks and the food does little to satisfy us. We stare at the counter until it finally opens up, about 45 minutes before our flight. We check in and pass through security. By this time, Dalaman has just become a joke for us all. Linda had a friend who would say "It's over Dave," which we had changed to say "It's over Dali," our unaffectionate name for the town. Unfortunately it was not yet over. Once we got through, we saw our plane was delayed. Luckily this ever optimistic duo just kept their heads up, spotted some beer, and plunked down there. Eventually the plane did in fact leave, and we finally could say "It's over Dali."
Istanbul
Back in Istanbul, Linda and I played it easy for the first few days. My close college friend, Verti and her boyfriend Evan were in town for a conference. We met them in Taksim, avoiding the protests that were going on around us. We hosted them the following night for a grand fish barbeque on campus overlooking the Bosporus. We also did some sightseeing. We ventured over to Asia and checked out Kadikoy, and ventured to the Old City sights of Chora Church, the Hagia Sofia, Grand Bazaar, and Spice Bazaar. I gave Linda one last important Turkish experience of stopping at a Turkish bath for a scrub and massage, before sadly sending her on her way back.
Day 1: Faralya
Linda arrived, spent a day here packing and preparing for the trail, then we took off for southwestern Turkey. We arrived in Dalaman, a city with nothing more to offer than its airport, and left right away for the George House in Faralya. The George House sits atop of a steep valley called Butterfly Valley. Due to the fact that the valley is only accessible by boat or somewhat treacherous hike, this area was untouched until the 1960s. Since then, it has been discovered by tourists and hikers and named for the butterflies and Jersey Tiger moths.
We arrived at our pansiyon, got a quick tour of the facilities and after a stern warning to stay to the trail markers ("or else we will have to come rescue you"), descended into the valley. The trail was steep enough at times to need ropes, which had been tied securely to the rocks for anyone who came by. We finally made it to the bottom, hiked through the high growth until we came to the opening signalling the start of the sandy beach. Bars dotted the beach selling water, soda, and beer. Camps were set up on the higher area over the water. Boats from nearby Olu Deniz were bobbing in the shallow water. We quickly realized in our excitement to start our adventure, we forgot to bring swim gear. We quickly stripped down to our sports bras and jumped in the beautiful clear waters of the Mediterranean, then went to grab a beer as we dried off before heading back up. We made it back to the George House to see the beautiful sunset over the valley.
Day 2: Faralya to Kabak Beach
We took off for Kabak Beach the next morning. Under the recommendation of the George House worker (whose name we forgot so we named Kat for our own reference), we decided to take the Coastal Trail rather than the Lycian Way trail to Kabak. We followed the yellow and red trail markings through the pine forests along the sea. Every once in a while, a beautiful beach tempted us to jump in, but the thought of hiking in wet clothes kept us going. After 8 km of hiking, we finally caught view of the picturesque Kabak beach. Our arrival was just in time, because the hangriness (anger or grumpiness caused by hunger) was hitting us. Looking back at it now, the treks got much easier as we got in better walking shape, used to the heat and packs, and learned how to properly band-aid our feet for our shoes. That being said, this first day's trek was still very enjoyable and scenic. We found a pansiyon called Shambala located on a hill overlooking the beach. We sat down for a beer and toasted our first day's hike. Then we headed down to the beach for a swim and little sunbathing (with plenty of sunscreen, no sunburns allowed!). We ate that evening at the pansiyon. The food was amazing. Then we found some perfect stargazing chairs and did exactly that as the waves of the Mediterranean crashed below us. It was a magical hour. Only later as we were climbing into bed when a Scottish friend (who we we met earlier) yelled at our cabin "Happy Fourth girls!" did we realize that this was the Fourth of July. Although we didn't realize we were celebrating it at the time, the stargazing over the Mediterranean was a beautiful way to celebrate our nation's holiday.
Day 3: Kabak Beach to Alinca to Gey
I had spent weeks before this trip putting together a first aid kit. We had aloe, antiseptic, bug spray, chlorine for purifying water, bandaids, meds for pain, allergies, and diarrhea, and even a round of antibiotics. We woke up this morning in Kabak covered with bug bites despite the fact that we slept under mosquito netting. Unfortunately, I had completely overlooked packing calamine lotion or anything that would have given us some relief for the bug bites that continued to dot our bodies (more so poor Linda than mine). Little did we know at the time, but we were days away from seeing a pharmacy or anything that could help out with this.
The hike to Alinca was uphill and stunning. We decided to take the Lycian Way (which we would take for the rest of the trip), therefore following the red and white trail markers. The Lycian Way is a 510 km trail spanning from Faralya (where we started) to Antalya nominated by the Sunday Times as a top ten best walk in the world. We hiked up and up until Kabak beach was just a speck by the Mediterranean. We hiked through the pine forests in the mountains, past beautiful rock faces. As we ascended, we were able to see not just Kabak beach, but also Butterfly Valley and Olu Deniz (a popular tourist beach town) further behind.
We finally arrived 750 meters higher in Alinca in the early afternoon after 7 km of trekking. After our first two nights, I was a little disappointed and fearful that this trek was more touristy than I expected. The next three days erased these fears and disappointment completely. After Kabak and until we got to Patara, we were the only travelers on the road and in the towns. All our interactions were with locals. The town of Alinca was the first such place. The town was comprised of a handful of unassuming homes with a beautiful view of the ocean far below. The nearest store or market was 8 kilometers away. A sweet lady saw us hiking in and eagerly gestured for us to sit down at a picnic bench outside her home. She brought us water and homemade ayran (first time trying this Turkish slightly-salty yogurt drink for Linda), then busied herself inside throwing together a lunch feast. After serving us, she pulled up a chair and proudly watched us woof down her food. When we had set off that morning, the possibility of staying in Alinca was left open, but we quickly realized this would not be a good option. As cute and hospitable as this lady was, we would have absolutely nothing to do for the remaining part of the day. We therefore refilled our waterbottles, strapped on our packs, and said our good-byes to Alinca.
We then started a steep decline out of Alinca. Uphill is never fun, but downhill is far worse. The gravel slid under our feet. With the added weight on our back, the danger seemed exponentially worse. I slipped on some of the gravel and fell into a prickly bush. We cleaned my scraped up hands immediately and got away with just a slivered, but uninfected hand. A little later, Linda slipped on the gravel, but she too escaped without an injury. At times we crossed rock slide paths, walking quietly and carefully. There was no need to tell each other that a slip could easily be a long slide down gravel to what seemed like no end. As we carefully set one foot after the other, we occasionally felt safe enough to look up and see goats grazing around us and the Mediterranean below us. The ground finally evened out and we saw our first olive orchards on terraced land overlooking the sea. We passed an old Ottoman cistern in one of these orchards. Finally, the mosque of Gey came into our sight and we almost started running to the town. We were hungry and tired after our 15 km day. We walked in to this little farm town. Roosters roamed freely. Tractors were the transportation choice. We found a small shop and sat down for a popsicle called a Twister, a beautiful treat Linda had discovered in Prague. After gobbling down the popsicle, the store owner, a sweet young mother, came up to us and asked if we wanted to stay. When we asked where, she pointed up above the shop. A glance up revealed she was talking about a covered, but open porch over the shop. Linda and I glanced at each other, shrugged, and said, sure. We set down our packs and took a quick walk around the town to see if we could find some new socks (mine were too short and my heels were rubbing against my shoes) but found the only other small market in town had nothing. Both markets were smaller than a gas station's back in the States. We then returned, asked for some beers, got out some cards, and settled in to our home for the evening. The town kids came out and played on the street in front of us and provided a perfect entertainment for the evening. We had brought some mini Oreos with us. We gave them a package and smiled as we saw them excitedly rip into them and divvy them up.
Day 4: Gey to Bel to Gavuragili
The open porch which allowed for great entertainment the night before did not seem so quaint in the morning. At the first light of dawn, around 5am, we heard the call to prayer. Then, for the next two hours, we heard the roosters. Linda said it sounded like they were telling jokes back and forth, at times laughing at each other. I thought it sounded like they were competing, trying to be the loudest and longest. Each cock-a-doodle-doo was followed by another. Sometimes they overlapped. No matter what it sounded like, neither of us could sleep through this raucous. Finally, as the morning light became intense and we kicked off our heavy blankets to sweat directly under the direct morning light, were we able to sleep for about two hours from 7-9am.
After breakfast, we set out for Bel, a short 6 km trek. Compared to the day before, the hike was quite easy. We passed by many more olive orchards and even more goats, the two main sources of income in this area. The trek was a relatively easy one, despite the fact that we had to stop several times to find the trail. There were parts of the Lycian Way that were very well marked, parts very poorly marked. When we would get to portions that were poorly marked, much extra time was spent looking for waymarkers. Not far out of Gey, we had such a difficult time that we actually threw our packs down so we were not lugging these things as we continued to widen our circle around the last seen marker. In the end, we always did find the markers. We arrived into Bel in the early afternoon.
Our initial plan had been to take an easier day that day, find a place to stay in Bel, then take a day hike to see the ancient city of Sidyma. Our plans changed, though, once we got to Bel. The town was very quiet and there were no signs for accommodations as we entered the town. The town had no view of the ocean, but olive orchards stretched on the mountaintops around. We heard some voices coming from under a grape arbor in front of a house and decided to go ask them where we might find some food. As we entered, we saw an old lady sitting in a wheelchair, a group of middle aged women and men, and three young children all sitting around talking and drinking tea. I asked if there was a place for food and was told there was no restaurant in this town. The man then turned to the woman of the house, said a few things, then turned to us and said, but we will feed you. They sat us down. The same man who invited us in (and knew some English) scurried off and returned with two boys around 14 years of age. We were the entertainment. We tried to talk a little in English and Turkish, but neither side knew enough of the other language to really have a conversation. Then the food was served and everything went silent. We ate and 8 sets of eyes just stared at us. I turned to Linda and said "we are not staying here." Despite the uncomfortable attention, the food hit the spot and we enjoyed the meal. As we ate, conversation did start and our discomfort was eased. They then served us tea and happily refilled all our water bottles. With the exception of the 5 minutes under scrutiny, it was another terrific stop at the home of very hospitable Turks. We again gave the kids some mini Oreos and watched them dive into the package. We had to make the lady take our 30 lira for the food. She just wanted to keep 10 (about $5).
Since we had decided over lunch that we were moving on, we strapped the packs on and headed out of Bel for the next town of Gavuraligi. The hike was another downhill climb similar to the Alinca-Gey trek. We came to a house on the walk and a young, sweet lady (we later learned her name was Fatma) met us and invited us in for a drink. We knew we had not yet hiked the 10 km to Gavuraligi, but thought sitting for an ayran sounded nice. When we asked how much further to Gavuraligi, we were shocked to hear her say that we were here. Our improvement in endurance and strength became apparent. We had just completed this tough downhill trek in less than 2.5. hours. After some ayran and the absorption of this news, we decided to stay at this pansiyon. Since we had trekked so far (another 16 km day in 100 degree weather), we had the luxury of staying there for two nights. We dropped our things off and took off for the Gavuraligi beach. We spent the evening there on the rocky beach and watched the sun set behind the beach before heading up for food at our pansiyon.
Day 5: the Turkish beach
Since we had a day that we did not need to travel, we decided to go to a nearby sandy beach near Pydnai. Someone from the pansiyon dropped us off. It took us only a minute of surveying the beach scene that we were the only foreigners. Turkish beach-goers were all around us. Men ran around in swim trunks, while ladies in their peasant bloomers and head scarves went in the water fully clothed. Funny enough, the little girls ran around in their little bikinis. After spending a few hours in the beach, we headed up to the beach cafe for some food and beers before trekking back to the pansiyon. We were met at the pansiyon with a feast of fish, wine, and great company from the owners and their little five-year-old Bahar. In conversation, it came up how much Linda loved the village bloomers. Fatma disappeared into the house and emerged with a pair of homemade ones, a gift for Linda.
Day 6: Letoon to Xanthos to Patara
We again got a ride from the pansiyon to the nearby ruins of Letoon. We walked through the ancient chapels, one still containing a mosaic, and later built church, and theater, before moving on. We then grabbed our packs and headed for Xanthos, a 4 km trek past greenhouse after greenhouse of vegetables. Along the way, we saw the first pharmacy on the entire trek and finally got some ointment for the bug bites. Xanthos was a bigger city set up on the hill overlooking modern day Kinik. Xanthos is recorded as the largest city in the Lycian League. It later passed through the hands of the Persians, then Greeks, and finally Romans. Most of the remains seen today were from the Romans, but some still remain from the ancient Lycians. We walked past the ancient walls, the gymnasium, theater, homes, agora, and ancient tombs.
Linda and I then caught a dolmus to Patara, our final location and the official end to our trek. We toasted this with mojitos at a nearby outdoor bar and a big Turkish dinner with mezes and guvec (a delicious Turkish casserole).
Day 7: Patara
We started the day with a massage by "Magic Hands Ali,"a thorough hour long massage for a mere 50 TL($25). We wandered over to the Patara ruins and were astounded by the size and quality of them. Each stop, Letoon, then Xanthos, and finally Patara, seemed to be getting bigger and better. Like Xanthos, Patara was an important city in the Lycian League, carrying the most votes and holding meetings for the officials in their convention hall. We walked through the city gates, old main street, several old baths, the theater, and convention center. Like Xanthos, Patara passed from Lycian to Greek, then Roman hands.
Afterwards, the heat of the day caught up with us (well over 100 degree days) and we decided to not head to the beach, but rather head back to the AC and take a nap, then went to a local restaurant for dinner. Earlier that day, as we were passing through town, we had met this restaurant owner. He asked us to help him with the English and spelling for the billboards he wanted in front of the restaurant. We helped him with it, then decided to return to try out this menu. Upon sitting, I was confused to see the same exact menu (with the exception that it was more poorly worded) across the street. Linda just nodded knowing. She had seen this as we were writing his menu earlier. The owner had written the same exact menus as the restaurant across the street. There were two set menus plus free garlic bread, all on wood fire. I was surprised, then just had to laugh it off. You had to give it to this guy. At least he wasn't trying to put this neighbor out of business. Even the prices were the exact same.
Our server that evening did his best to impress us. When we refused dessert, he said he wanted to give us complimentary fruit. Five minutes passed, and I saw one of the younger kid employees come back from an errand with a bag of fruit. This guy was working so hard to please us he had sent the kid out to get some fruit just for us. You have to love it. We had to work hard to stifle our laughter as the same fruit now cut up appeared on the table 2 minutes later. We then went to get some gozleme, (Turkish pancake) and tea. We had my favorite, lemon and sugar. It was a lovely relaxing evening.
Day 7: Patara
We woke up early and headed out to the Patara beach. It was stunning. The sand spanned further than we could see. We negotiated for some cheaper umbrellas and chairs since we had to leave for the airport that afternoon, then spent a few hours getting our last fill of the Mediterranean before catching the bus for Dalaman and the airport.
A dolmus took us to the main road where we caught our bus. The bus ride was nice and air-conditioned. The bus assistant let us know when we got to Dalaman. As we got out and saw just a strip mall along the highway, we turned to him one last time. Dalaman? we asked somewhat panicked. He nodded. Nothing we could do but look at each other and laugh. We had been hoping to get some food before heading to the airport, but there was nothing but toast, which didn't appeal to either of us. So instead we grabbed some snacks at a little shop and took a 45TL flat rate cab ride to the airport. After what seemed like a 5 minute ride, we pulled in to the ancient airport and we sadly handed over a 50 TL. The driver told us he had no change. We gave him the eyes saying "that's your problem buddy." He ran into the airport, went through security, ran up to the airlines counters and found nothing. We waited. He came running back out. We continued to wait. He ran down some stairs and emerged 5 minutes later, this time victoriously. He gave us our 5TL. Linda later told me she almost gave it back to him, "you keep it buddy." We walk in, two hours before our flight back to Istanbul, and the desk was not open. The sign saying kafeterya was inside the security, so we have to sit on the other side of this hell hole of a place and open our snacks. Unfortunately, we have chosen poorly on our snacks and the food does little to satisfy us. We stare at the counter until it finally opens up, about 45 minutes before our flight. We check in and pass through security. By this time, Dalaman has just become a joke for us all. Linda had a friend who would say "It's over Dave," which we had changed to say "It's over Dali," our unaffectionate name for the town. Unfortunately it was not yet over. Once we got through, we saw our plane was delayed. Luckily this ever optimistic duo just kept their heads up, spotted some beer, and plunked down there. Eventually the plane did in fact leave, and we finally could say "It's over Dali."
Istanbul
Back in Istanbul, Linda and I played it easy for the first few days. My close college friend, Verti and her boyfriend Evan were in town for a conference. We met them in Taksim, avoiding the protests that were going on around us. We hosted them the following night for a grand fish barbeque on campus overlooking the Bosporus. We also did some sightseeing. We ventured over to Asia and checked out Kadikoy, and ventured to the Old City sights of Chora Church, the Hagia Sofia, Grand Bazaar, and Spice Bazaar. I gave Linda one last important Turkish experience of stopping at a Turkish bath for a scrub and massage, before sadly sending her on her way back.
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