West Coast of Turkey Dec. 1 – 15

Another trip down the 

West Coast of Turkey Dec. 1 – 15

December 1

This is a long awaited day! We head for the airport to pick up our friend Susan Mann. It is her birthday today! We have known each other since the second grade. As we slowly glide along the arrivals lane I hear, “Lou! Lou!” And there she is. Easy as that! We find our hotel, the Peninsula Hotel, on a great central Istanbul street, close to much that we can do by walking. We are all thrilled. Our camper van is parked for the duration outside our window. Down the pretty cobbled street is a restaurant with an owner gifted in persuasion (My sister lives in Seattle!). We are caught and seated and have time to relax together, ordering typical Turkish food: lamb, humus, dolmas , something mysterious but delicious, French fries, baklava, Efes beer, and Turkish tea. Yes, French fries come with everything! 

Susan has come to meet us all the way from India and has lots of stories to tell us. Each year she makes her way to India and Nepal, volunteering her nursing skills. This year she has been part of 'Health Camp' (like Doctors without Borders) and SAVA, an NGO that helps women have their own businesses. Donations and government help fund it. The organization also raises money for education of young girls who otherwise would be taken and sold as prostitutes. In Katmandu she has helped a family out for years, giving them money for family needs, such as adding on to their home or sending the children to school in the right uniforms with the right supplies. This is her other family. So there is much to tell and listen to before we head back to the Peninsula. Hot showers! David and I lay back and watch British TV, David Copperfield. The bed is comfy and big by our standards!

December 2

Breakfast is upstairs on the top floor where we meet and talk with other travelers who have 'must do' tips for us, though we have been here three times before! We will do the sights again so that Susan sees them also. It is not a hardship. Everything is so extraordinarily beautiful here. Before we go out the door we chat with the reception fellow. He has a story of his own. He is getting his masters in Modern Art, which will be complete this year, then go on for 5 years more to get his PHD. His interest: Master artists vs. Modern artists, the latter began when artists painted with new ideas instead of copying the art of the day. 

Off we go up the hill to the Blue Mosque. Oh no! We get caught in a rug shop, the first of many in our travels together. David and I love to look at carpets, but Susan cannot resist going inside. Getting back out is difficult. This shop owner was especially nice. He inherited the shop from his father but does not want his children caught in the same 'rut'. His daughter is a lawyer, his son a doctor. He is very proud of them both. Susan bought a small beauty of a carpet. She is good at 'dickering' on the price and always pays less than the asking price. The sales people like the sport I think. 

And we must walk into the Four Seasons Hotel across the street. In its 'hay day' it was a prison. Today it is a gorgeous hotel, the original exterior painted yellow with white trim. Interior... tasteful colors, décor, decoration. A lovely young woman who wanted us to see it all showed us around. Themed Christmas trees stand in every room. One was decorated with teacups, another with the blue and white Turkish 'evil eye' symbol. 

And we did finally make it to the Blue Mosque, which I wrote about on our travels last winter so I won't say it all again. But, it is spectacular (blue tiles prevail inside) and so worth many visits. There are 260 windows and the prayer hall can hold 10,000 worshippers with 30 decorated domes above. Sultan Ahmed l commissioned this work of architecture at the age of 19 and worked alongside the other laborers. His aim was to make it the most beautiful place of worship yet. We went to a free and very good talk about the mosque and also the Muslim religion. Their simple explanation for the latter, “The Quran has never been 'fooled' with, as the Bible has. There is only one God called Allah (or God), with no other god between the people and Allah, as in Jesus”.

We sauntered over to the famous Cistern. It does not look like much but we had been urged to go. This was a new adventure for David and I also. We walk the downward stairs into what looks like a giant cathedral, lit to show its amazing beauty. It is a cavern of columns: Doric, Corinthian and some a different style all together, maybe replacements in a sturdier shape. There are a couple of feet of water on the bottom and we watch carp swim by from our walkway above, the structure built so that we could see the whole space. This huge cavity would have been filled to the brim with water sometimes. A few spaces have extra interest. One column has 'evil eyes' carved into the pattern. The most unforgettable is the column of Medusa. Her face is the large strong base; on one side it is upside down, on another side, her face is on its side. Unique, wonderful faces. I am so glad we came here. 

The rest of the day we wandered shopping streets, got caught inside another carpet shop (which ended in the salesperson chasing Susan to the street when she said that she was not interested in any of his carpets), ate Turkish Delights, döner kebabs (heros) and Baklava, then home to the hotel in a roundabout way. 

THOUGHTS and OBSERVATIONS:

> We learned about weaving in the various shops. The dyes: red comes from licorice root, green from olive leaves, yellow from saffron, another from the peach tree, white from the sheep's original wool, Indigo? Quality of a carpet depends on the knot tying: single knot, double knot etc. Is it loom woven? Backstrap woven? Embroidered? 

> Some Turkish spellings that work for me: ambulans, turizm, teknik, tost, emisyon, populer, demokrasi, dekor, radyator, treyler.

> Have you ever heard the prayer from a minaret being sung in Arabic by the Imam 5 times a day? It is quite beautiful if sung well. The message is the same as centuries ago and this is what he is singing:

Allah (God) is greatest. 4X

I bear witness that there is no god except Allah. 2X

I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah. 2X

Come to prayer. 2X

Come to success. 2X

Allah is greatest. 2X

There is no god except Allah. 

And in the morning prayer call another sentence is added:

Worship is better than sleep.

> A Turkish toast, phonetic: Share Re Fet.

> Turkish favorites...Lambs head soup, spicy lamb intestines. Skewered mussels. 

> That mysterious red sticky ball of red orange on trees: Lychee!

> Rich Russians are the main owners of vacation houses along the Turkish coasts.

December 3

Cold! Just darn cold! We layer on our clothes and finish off with wool hats and scarves. After a good hotel breakfast we catch a tram over the waters of the Golden Horn on the Galata Bridge where we hop off to find the Garmin GPS store. We now need Turkish GPS directions. Yes, we are under Gypsy's spell. That done, we walk to the Istanbul Modern Art museum to see if there is anything new since last we were there, and we will get out of this nasty weather! 

Much of the exhibits were permanent and remained the same but well worth another walk-through. I found a small photo exhibit that kept my attention for an hour. Barbara and Zafer Baran had put together a group of photos that illustrated “the idea that everything is part of a whole, from the smallest organisms to the depths of space. It is the very charm of the ordinary and the complexity of what is simple that strikes the eye.” In my words, how working with the camera can bring out the similarities in structures of all creation. I am taken with this concept as I have found in my own work that a small stone in my hand can become the universe when painted on a very large canvas. I was also interested to find that this couple had studied the work of Henry Fox Talbot, a photographer whose work we discovered in England. From his work the Barans developed their own 'camera-less' methods, today’s methods being digital techniques, a modern extension of the photogram.

We still were not ready to greet the cold so we ate pizza in the museum restaurant and listened to the tales of Susan's adventures sailing the Mediterranean. Some scary tales of storms at sea with her at the helm while her husband slept a few hours, and some sweet stories of a stop in Kuwait where she gave birth to her son, Christian. 

It was dark when we took the tram (where I was blessed with a rose from a young man) to our neighborhood, then ate our way home; very expensive deserts in one store and a stuffed baked potato in another. The last leg took us through the middle of the church and mosque, on one side the Aya Sophia turned museum and on the other, the Blue Mosque, both fantastically lit like fairy tale castles and both fully packed with domes and minarets. Incredible beauty. 

Ah, but once again we followed Suzie-Q into another carpet shop and sat for the amazing show with our Turkish teas. 

December 4

We extend our stay another day. This morning we detour past the carpet stores up to the beautiful Aya Sophia (the Church of the Divine Wisdom in English), 1000 years older than the Blue Mosque, built by Emperor Justinian in 527 as a part of an effort to restore the greatness of the Roman Empire. How on earth did they manage this feat so long ago? The architectural skills are so sophisticated! Some mosaics are made with tiles, but much of it is done in different types of stone and marble. A golden aura prevails, spinning in the heavens, circles of arched windows letting in small bursts of light. It is Christian and Muslim history combined to give us this ethereal experience, captured spirit still whirling in the round domes. Foot-polished stone ramps zigzag to an upper balcony, which surrounds the whole expanse. Next to Aya Sophia are tombs, five small buildings exquisitely designed and decorated. 

Today we want to show Susan a favorite area of ours so we take the tram down to the Mamara Sea to catch a boat to Kadiköy to visit the daily market. It is wondrous to look at: Salt fish, olives, cheese, baklava, mussels, dates, nuts, crackers, and dolmathes! All these things we buy but we peek and peer at everything. Panpipes soar over all, coming from the main square. A drum and a horn make a rhythmic march down a market street. Lots and lots of folks! It is really fun. Susan is surely in her element. We linger long at lunch from a cozy warm upstairs table where we can watch the world go by. We sip on Turkish teas and coffees as long as we dare but finally we must dawn all our woolens and brave the cold. A few more streets to inspect before we head to the passenger ferry where we buy our 3 tl (Turkish Lira) coins from a machine, not without difficulty! We sail on the dark water, past the city lights toward home. A full day of rich sights and sounds.

December 5

We leave Istanbul today but first breakfast. We have come to know the breakfast server, a lovely woman who smiles often. She saves our favorites and sends us away with a package. And we meet Matthew, a sailor from California. His work keeps him traveling and he keeps an apartment in Budapest. We are packed and ready to go at 10:15 but must first say our goodbyes to the young receptionist. We have had such good talks with him. “Come and visit us!”

Off we go in our very own bus once more. But we are pulled over by the police at a bridge over the Bosporus waterway. What now? “Just need to look at all your car papers.” In a few minutes we are off again, nearly noon, our destination is somewhere near IZMUR, 6 hours away. David describes the road as rumpled. We are following and trusting Gypsy to take us there the shortest way. She takes us to a ferry, which looks like a Washington State ferry so we feel somewhat comforted but we are off to 'ports unknown'. David reminds us that we are leaving a 'port unknown'. We pass through BURSA. At a stop there is a knock on my window. A fellow has seen the Canadian flag decal on the bumper and wants to tell us that he had lived in North Vancouver (where I grew up) for a few years. He gave me the name of his relatives but I did not recognize it. Sometimes it really is a small world. 

Hotel finding. Not easy! The towns are small and old and back in time, not geared for tourists. The first hotel we try has a very sweet proprietor but skid row digs. Depressing. We do find the Mut Otel. We all decided to sleep in one room that has three beds, about $15 each. The reception man is quite unsure of who belongs to whom. The culture does not allow for a man to stay in the same room with two women. I manage to convey that David is my husband and that Susan is my sister. The room was great, and breakfast, too, the latter shared with many truckers who came in later than us last night. 

December 6

We are driving in fog, not thick, but ethereal. The sun will burn it off. In the early afternoon we reach a favorite town, SELCUK, and find the Hotel Dream for Susan. It is nice to be in a familiar place and can find our way through comfy known streets which are not 'stone old' and canyon-like but wide with low buildings. The wonderful village charm survives. A Roman aqueduct is at the far end of town, mostly in pieces, but the archways are still hanging in there. They march along across a main street and up to an old wall, beyond which is St. Jean church and a fortress topped with the 'missing teeth' protection wall. 

We reluctantly follow a sales person into his shop. He is so persistent he wins! He has been watching us look at the exquisite plates in the window. His name is Wedo (Veedoh), the youngest brother of the owner, Ali. They are Kurdish men from the east of Turkey. Ali is very talented. He makes top quality leather shoes and purses. He has a discerning eye and the store shows this. It is a pleasure to be here. Susan finally decides to buy 8 differently patterned Turkish plates, with some small tiles and saucers for wine rests. She will serve dinner on these. I can only imagine how beautiful the table will look. Perhaps someday we will sit at her Turkish table. 

While Susan is making up her mind and dickering for a good price, we are served tea three times and a glass of delicious full-bodied Turkish red wine. Wedo shows us an album of his Kurdish territory in the east, up to the Black Sea, and gives us suggestions for what we might see if we choose to go there. He says that his mother knows nothing of anything outside her home area. We see a photo of her and her ten children; he is the youngest of seven boys. She wears a white headscarf with a black and white band holding it to her head. He lovingly says that she talks to her chickens and cows. He tells us a story of a cousin who comes back home from the USA, having married an American woman. Their grandmother only knows that the carpets she owns are very old and in her mind not worth very much. 600 years old! He asks for them and sells them in America for at least $20,000. We leave the store at 10:00 pm! Time for dinner!

Before he joined his brother in the shop, Wedo worked at a restaurant for twelve years, Old House, which he says is the best. He calls his former boss to get ready for us. In two blocks we are there. The room where we sit is being heated, a long lamp radiating warmth over us. We look at the menu. I choose a special recipe that Wedo has given to the restaurant, a family recipe. Also we order meze, a shared plate of treats to put on bread pieces. My dinner comes in a tureen above fire. It is heavenly tasting.

We leave Susan at her hotel and Wedo comes with us to show us a good quiet spot to park the camper for the night. 

December 7

Saturday market in Selcuk! Huge! During the night the streets and squares have been transformed. Susan can see all this from her hotel window and shopping at a market is on the top of her list of thrills. Shopping for beautiful food in fresh markets! It rains buckets. The booths all have made provision for it so we keep relatively dry under big umbrellas and tarps. We dash from one to the other. Into our bags go: green peppers, onions, potatoes, cucumbers, oranges, egg plants, lemons, raisins (sultanas), carrots, shelled walnuts, dried apricots, almonds, apples, dates, cheese... Whew! All these bags! We have such great encounters. The cheese men all want their picture taken together and more requests for photos from two men selling something we cannot identify. Everyone at the market smiles. One man says in English, “Do you think it is going to rain? Do you have an umbrella?” Ladies in traditional clothing do not want us to take their picture. Some of these women are perched cross-legged on top of their tables, their wares safe in their billowy pantaloons. We store all our purchases in every little corner of our van. 

This afternoon we drove to Ephesus, the beautiful Roman city with marble roads where much remains to ponder. Susan and David walk the streets. As we have visited here last year, I choose instead to write a few words for my blog. I will never catch up but I must keep trying! Last year, in the Ephesus parking lot, we met Sultan who drove us to a carpet school on the way to upper Ephesus (so we could walk back downhill). He is still here drumming up business and ready to get Susan to the carpet school. As I work he brings me tea and a lovely turquoise scarf. “A Christmas present,” he says. All this so I will get Susan to the carpet school and then hopefully to make a purchase. He gets a cut of every rug the school sells. I make a Greek salad, ready for dinner on David and Susan's return. And when they do return, Sultan is ready. David gets a key chain, too girlie for him, and Susan gets a very nice bracelet and a Turkish flag. Okay, we make an appointment at the carpet school for 10:00 the next morning.

December 8

At 10:00 we turn into the school driveway. We see silk cocoons soaking in water, then spun into thread. We watch silk, wool and cotton being woven. The slender silk is woven on a tiny frame. All is gorgeous. But the time has come for the real reason we have been brought, to show and sell us carpets. The room is very large, the carpets supreme and many. But we bought ours last year, which we use on the floor of the camper. Susan is not swayed by anything she sees. When we get up to go the seller is very upset with us. “This is not fair business,” he says. Not a good feeling as we climb into our van. 

Now we head for a village close-by in the hills. SIRINCE. It has gone tourist crazy but we really like its layout and the quality of goods set before us in all the stalls that line the sides of the downhill street. Last year I bought bold black and white hand knit socks. I would like another pair. Susan insists that I need to get away from black and buys me a lovely fine wool shawl of a purple hue. “You look stunning!” I almost believe her. We all buy socks, cozy colorful wool that massages your feet as you walk. After a few more purchases we climb to the old Christian church of St. John the Baptist. There are still vestiges of painted walls. Now, a good hike back to our car and on to BODRUM.

We have heard that this is the party city, lots of pubs and bars, both high-end and affordable. This goes for the lodgings that are offered. This is a seaside city with good swimming and snorkeling. Well, we are here off-season and it is just to our liking. On one of its narrow pedestrian streets we find Susan a wonderful hotel, like a boutique hotel. Her room is perfect for $40 a night. It looks out over the sea and is furnished with polished wood, hand laced curtains, light and white pillows and blankets with beads and tassels and a half a Turkish Quilt laid across the bed, handmade applique piecing and quilting in the Turkish folk style. 

December 9

Big and bold over the town is the Bodrum Museum/Castle, which we head for but find it closed on Mondays. So, let's stay another day and find other adventures today. We shop! Everything is so enticing. Yummy stuff. David and I buy two more Kilim pillow tops, not without enjoying our Turkish tea, this time sage. Good and hot, for it is still cold outdoors. The owner then takes us all to his brother's shop a few steps away, this time the offering is ceramics. Ah, but the pipe display is what grabs us. Soft white rock, beautifully carved pipes! Amazing one-of-a-kind pipe bowls of flowers, horses and elephants. Susan buys one for her son. It is gorgeous. 

Next stop, a shoe store. Here there are clear plastic boots with a trim of color, and you buy the socks of your choice, which will be seen through the clear plastic. Much fun. It is a great look for her. But she says that it never rains in Vernon. What would she do with them? She puts off the inevitable and walks out in them the next day. I buy yarn, not an easy product to find. I have decided to make an afghan for our friends whose house we will stay in on Cyprus. I choose a lovely soft green of synthetic yarn that can be easily washed in a machine. A stop at a big supermarket brings home everything we need and we have a long cocktail hour in Susan's room. Oh yes, I forgot, today we saw flamingos.

December 10

“Isn't this fun?” is Susan's mantra. And it is fun. We are at the fortified castle at nine. What a place! Exhibits are hidden various places inside the walls. Ships pulled out of the sea and exhibited or models made, even an Egyptian ship from centuries BC. All the lovely cargo is on view scattered about: amphorae, the urns used to transport liquid, gold and silver, tools, wooden anchors, ceramics, glass. The towers are designated English, French and Italian. This place has been occupied by so many nations. In one hidden section I found the bones of a Queen in a glass sarcophagus, the bones put back as they had been found outside of town. And we could creep down into a dark dungeon chamber where unspeakable torture was practiced. But a hit for me was a gold scarab said to have belonged to Nephradite. Perfect golden beauty! Four hours we wandered in interest and awe. 

It is bleak and rainy, just right for Susan's new boots as she steps in every puddle in her path. At 2:15 we are zigzagging through small streets to find our way out of town, then drive forest and coastland to the harbor at Fethiye. Stopping along this road Susan finds a hotel for $22 a night. We dine together, at home in the camper. 

December 11

Susan has an omelet for breakfast. The hotel chef knew she would like one, and he knew how to make it. He is an opera singer by trade and he sings an aria to her while she eats. By now the whole staff of the hotel knows about her. They cannot believe that she is 70. The cleaning lady wants to know what cream she uses on her skin. 

We drive east along the coast to KALKAN, a former fishing town now tourist town. Sunshine, and strong winds, which whip off the wave froth and send it high where it turns into white mist. One tanker is in the bay, being pulled and pushed by the wind and waves. Two Greek Islands add to the view. We walk the steep town streets but most shops are closed for winter and the streets are ripped open for resurfacing. It is a pretty city though, lovely old wood balconies. Painted steep stairs, each one a different color and a set of stairs decorated by children, happy and light hearted. This would be a wonderful summer place.

Continuing along our day's journey we watch the sea waves give us a show as they are turned into white snake-like creatures by the wind. The road curves in and out of the landforms. Sand beaches in little coves, worn waterfall stone faces wait for run-off. In KAS we stop to shop for groceries. The greens are limp and the strawberries are moldy but we found some good stuff to turn into our dinner. Hot pepper humus, mustard, ring sausage, pumpernickel bread, sliced tomatoes, and halva for dessert. Susan's hotel tonight is the Hideaway. The wind rages most of the night.

December 12 

Happy Birthday David! 

We travel on to Antalya. The rugged coastline is made up of fingers of water, hidden idyllic beaches and rocky islands with pines. A benign river snakes to a sand harbor. We stop the van above it and feast our eyes. We pass by town after town. Plastic covered green houses are a prominent feature, catching the cold sun and turning it warm. Sailboats are pulled up and moored on the ground. Turquoise sea with low white caps. People are filling a variety of containers with water at community wells. Black coots paddle on flat water behind a natural spit that is covered in fluffy weeds. Slender necked grebes enjoy the same spot. Rock steps lead down from the high roadway to a small cove of glacier colored blue water and a cave. Many coves like this have primitive stairs leading down to the cool waters. Boulders tumble from above finding a new home in the shore waves. 

The next town is FINIKE. A nice larger town with a boat harbor, parks with shade trees and an Ataturk statue of course. There is a boulevard with trees. Still we see women in long skirts or baggy low crotched flower patterned pants, scarves on their heads, layers of clothing on chubby working bodies. Keeping up with styles? What is that? 

Now comes a long stretch of beach with six empty container ships waiting in the sea beyond.  On we go: thick pine forest on one side, sand delta on the other. I am buckled in on the bench seat in back. It is like another room here. Susan and David chatter along up front. We stop for lunch and share our space with a sandy colored dog, sound asleep atop a big dirt pile. He doesn't see the snow covered mountains that march along as far as we can see. He is probably dreaming of food. But we get to say a few encouraging words and rub him down before we go, then he is back to his dog dreams. TEKIROVA and KEMER, two more towns. Two lone black rock spires stick up from the bottom of a flat valley floor. And there is ANTALYA, from a distance, a big white city on the sea. 

THOUGHTS and OBSERVATIONS:

> What calls us humans to walk by the sea? Or for that matter, to climb to the top of high places. Does it pull us closer to creation? A glimpse of something much bigger than ourselves? Mystery. Wonder. 

>Okay, so maybe English is the universal language these days but we should take spelling lessons from the Eastern Europeans and Turkey. 

> Words: Teknoloji, Mozaik, çiz (with a mark under the c is cheese)

> Are the women of Turkish tradition very happy here in the rural country? For me it is like looking at a nun. A much different life than mine! I am not able to grasp all the meaning, all the differences. But I try. They collect wood, manage the family garden, shop, look after children. Wait, that all sounds good. But they do all this in long garments and headscarves, even on hot days. They do not look pretty. Those pants, those low crotch pants! As you can see it is hard for me to grasp! The men are all in the villages and towns visiting, drinking tea or coffees and playing board games. The women are at roadside minding the vegetable, fruit and jam stands. I have not lived in their culture. How can I know?

As we enter Antalya we seem to be in a movie making area. There are life size statues of people taking movies. One statue, set apart and bigger, holds a golden ball, feels a bit like 'Oscar'. Some large installations like a movie reel and tape scrolling out of it. 

David and I have not been to this city before. It is very cold these days, not stay-in-the-van weather, so we find a hotel for us all after winding around the tiniest little streets yet, and sometimes we have to take two or three tries to get around a corner. We are in the Ninova Hotel. Couldn't be better, though finding our way back when we venture out might be a trick. But we do venture out into the magic city to view its offerings. Carpets and more carpets. Of course there are many other things to look at but the carpets are incredible. They seem like they are priced quite low but of beautiful quality. Evidently most of the dealers are trying to sell out their inventory. It is getting harder to find old and good carpets. They do not want to be in the business anymore. We see three that we love in one store. Maybe we will buy one. Let's sleep on it. 

Time for a birthday celebration! Where is the right restaurant? We ask and are pointed toward a fine looking place, great interior, lighting and ambiance. The food is beautiful and very tasty but the proportions are small and Susan is left hungry. We order fancy chocolate desserts and again Susan unwittingly orders the smallest one. But we still had birthday fun and laughs and found our way home through the old town maze.

December 13

Susan goes out into the cold to find a fresh market and brings back luscious food. We attack the Halva first. Excellent! Then the three of us make a van meal, cutting up the fresh vegetables: red and yellow peppers, cauliflower, broccoli, tomatoes and onions... throw in the fresh turmeric and oregano and stir fry just long enough. We eat all this on top of noodles. Then we bundle up for an afternoon walk. 

Susan gets lost in a gorgeous carpet shop with a gorgeous owner, Mehmet. The carpets are really stunning. Someone has chosen them with a good eye for design and workmanship. David and I continue on to look at yesterday's carpets again. Which one or none at all? But part way up the street we are both smitten with a beauty that hangs on a rack outside. Now what. We go back to Osman in the first store and look at the three from yesterday. None of them comes close to the one hanging in the street. Sorry Osman, our hearts found another. We head back to buy our dark red and black natural-dyed embroidered kilem for $300. This one will hang on the wall. The store is Attalos Carpets. Suleiman is such a sweet young man we are glad to give him the business. 

We must like the feel of buying because we buy three kilem pillows at another store. Delicious colors and patterns! Three for $25. Time to head home. We are soon so lost walking through shops, through residences, through hotels. Turn left I think, and left again? No. Round and round until by accident we find the old city wall and Hadrian's Gate. We do know our way from here. Home!  The heat in our room has been on all day. It is so cozy. We hunker down for the night.

A knock on the door. It is Susan with an invitation to dinner with her new friend, Mehmet. “You go Susan. Enjoy yourself.” She thinks we are nuts not to take the opportunity but we are settled and ready to read, watch TV, write, snack on peanuts, Ruffles, olives and wine. She may be right but home we will stay. 

She has such a good time. She was the only tourist in a Turkish favorite hangout: music, food and conversation. Oh yes, she bought another carpet.

December 14

Breakfast in the hotel with Dan and Glenda from Minnesota. Dan is a chef and a fisherman. Glenda makes lovely beaded and macramé jewelry. She is taking classes here everyday. Her pieces are lovely and I ask if I can buy one that I particularly like, red and black oval 'stone' with black macramé bracelet band. Well she gifted both Susan and I with a bracelet. Very kind and generous! 

We leave Antalya. Today we hope to drive half way to our ferry to Cyprus. Tomorrow we get in line for it at 10:00 pm. 

We are in for an amazing drive. David constantly pulls the steering wheel one way and then the other, hardly ever a straight-of-way. There is construction on a hillside cliff of rock. Building a freeway. We are off the old road and on to the new many times. Many tunnels have been bored straight through the rock. Whole mountainsides have given up their roundness and have been sliced straight from top down to roadbed. The slice shows all its innards, its composition and colors beneath its skin. Most of the time we can see the sea from above or next to it. So we also go up and down, besides from side to side. 

We stop in Anamur, 38,000 population. It takes us a while to find a suitable hotel for Susan and then we have dinner in the camper van dining room. There were good avocados in the grocery store so Susan makes guacamole, then vegetable soup. Another run to the store for yogurt and wafer cookies to have with our fresh strawberries. 

December 15

23-year-old Janni from Denmark was staying in Susan's hotel last night. They met at breakfast and he has been invited to travel with us. He has a pack on his back and dreadlock hair to go with his youthful personality. He is on his way to Israel to visit his father, a result, he says, of his mother working and living in a Kibbutz as a young woman. The day ahead looks great; it is warming up. The hotel chef comes running after the car. He loads us up with apples and oranges. Just another sweet young Turk!

It is time for gassing up the car. The attendant insists on washing it. No, no no! No money. Big smile. A dog on the highway, laying in the 4-lane median snoozes in the sun, small mosques beautifully painted, each different from the other, come in the sweetest shapes, always with domes. Dark smoke! Someone is burning plastic. It gets to my eyes and nose. The sea sparkles in certain sections. Why just there? Glass garden houses instead of plastic, a minority these days, filled with tomatoes.

Aydincik. We want to show Susan and Janni the Roman ruins here, the floors of mosaics. We chat with a retired Turkish seaman along a walkway where nets are being mended. His ship's assignment was to take wheat from Canada's Vancouver harbour to Brazil. His assignment was chief cook ('and bottle washer' as my father would say). He spoke Turkish, French, English and Spanish. 

Janni is a delight. Smart and gentle. He has walked so much on this journey that his knee is giving him problems so he is using a cane. When he has seen his father in Israel he will go to Viet Nam to meet his girlfriend who is finishing up a University archeology course. They will live there awhile. Then what? No plans yet.

We all sit in the sun at a table by the sea for lunch. We notice some large construction out into the water, which turns out to be the water pipe that is being installed to Northern Cyprus. I wonder if they will sell the water to Greek Cyprus? It is Sunday. We are not the only folks eating and enjoying the sun. It is a family day and fishing is added to their agendas. 

Janni goes down to the beach and finds some smoky crystals embedded in rock! He and his girlfriend are proponents of crystal healing and he finds it almost unbelievable that he has found these here. Highly improbable! Ah, I remember when I was young I could make things like that happen, too. Help from the mysterious universe.

Tascu. This is our ferry town. First we have tea with Janni and then part, heading in our separate ways.  The 'fun' begins. Finding the right dock, getting ourselves on the ferry, Susan and I as walk-on passengers and David waiting in line with a zillion trucks. We find a cold waiting room, TV blaring, which inhibits the book-reading ability. Blankets are on our laps, me with the waiter’s jacket over my shoulders. “Would you like tea?” “Yes!” It helped. But we left without paying and the waiter came running after us, “5tl! 5tl!”

Another lovely experience… The passport policeman was rude and nasty. Well, my passport is a little ripped and worn. He scowled at it and threw my passport back at me. Once more I was inspired to tell a person that there was no need to be rude, but he did not understand a word I said. No satisfaction.

It is 11:15 pm and we are still waiting to leave. I go out on the deck to check to see what is happening with the trucks and cars. David sits in the van in the same position, still not loaded. Susan decides to rent a cabin to sleep in and leaves me to go to her quiet comfort. I have saved two long couch benches for David and I. There are only four in the room, and they are next to a bank of 'ding dong' games, which fortunately nobody touches. A few attempts at sleep are not successful. My neighbor is disturbed by the police and taken away with all her luggage??? A few hours later she returns. At 3:00 am David arrives in the waiting room. He has brought me a pillow and now we both sleep soundly. TV is quiet. People are quiet. Lights still on. I sleep until 9:00 a.m. David and Susan are outside watching the island of Cyprus come closer.