Balloons and breakfasts

Hi all again, so soon you will think we are spending all the time on the computer.
This will be the last post before Ireland.

At 5 o'clock this morning Bernie dragged himself out of too little sleep and took a hot air balloon ride with the sunrise. I'm sure he will have lots more photos to share but I've not seen them yet. I went for an early walk and checked out some hobbit holes then we met for breakfast. That took hours! Sitting on a sunny terrace looking over Goreme (a place where the innate insanity of mankind is visible everywhere you turn) eating all you want of a buffet to burst for. Normal Turkish breakfast is tomato and cucumber, olives and two kinds of cheese (soft unripe cheese and a gouda like one), hardboiled egg, bread and jam, honey, tea/coffee. This mornings feast was all that and multiply by at least four! So how not to overindulge ?

Yesterday we visited an underground city. For food storage and defence against both enemies of the warlike kind and of the climatic kind, the people in the early centuries AD built honeycomb cave warrens for all the world like those of rabbits. These were extensive and complex and multi-levelled. We went down about 4-6 stories. In typical Turkish fashion there was little or no info available, the level of visitor safety was certainly below north American or European standards yet it all worked fine. No-one suggested that a torch/flashlight might be a very valuable piece of equipment, yet there were huge holes in the floor with drops to the room below, tunnels that were almost crawling size and very narrow, steps as high as your thighs, altogether requiring a certain amount of agility and tour buses of people all trying to negotiate this labyrinth. Yikes. We managed to hit it at lunchtime when the bus hoards were having their "typical turkish lunch" so it was empty and we could explore to our hearts content. I have to say the "typical turkish lunch" is invariably excellent, no cynicism implied.
Later we walked along a deep gorge with a small river swollen with melt water from the snow covered mountain above. Here they have restaurants with tables right out in the flow with rickety bridges for access. Easy to get out  but a bit nerve wracking to get back after a beer or two (which we didn't have!!).

The valley walls were a place of refuge for monks and hermits in the early days of the spread of Christianity and they carved out churches in the cliff walls. Many of the frescoes and decoration are still clear and beautiful. The air is dry and the stone absorbent so apart from the ravages of human vandals removing the faces of the pictures of saints and apostles where they could reach, or scratching their names as if we wanted to know who they were, they were in good shape. Certainly the builders and inhabitants had to be in good shape too. These places are very hard to access.
They left a hardy legacy too. The people here are all in pretty good shape and the country provides a bounty of foodstuffs of the more delicious kinds. With almost 80 million people, Turkey is self-sufficient in food and most other necessities, and more. They have  healthy export trade too and very little import. It is no wonder they basic cost of living is low.

Gotta go and check out and explore for one more day before we search out fresh pastures as we wend our way back to the airport.
Gule, gule,
Mary

of trails and trials...............

My usual multiple typos is bound to be enormously worse tonight since this keyboard is missing almost all the letters......
We are finally in Cappadocia staying in a very luxurious cave, blowing our budget right out of the water. But before I try to describe the indescribable I should explain this blog title.
I last wrote from Tekirova, a town for Russian tourists with a serious penchant for ostentation, where the shopping street is a mile long and the shops are in groups of four repeating - boutique, fancy leather and furs, expensive sunglasses, jewellers, boutique, fancy leather etc etc and all the hotels are huge, gated and 4 or 5 star.

Mustafa's very friendly, and tasty restaurant.

The incomparable Aynur

From there we returned to humbler beach front "pansiyons" and found Sima Peace Pansiyon run by aging hippie Aynur. Aynur is unique, especially for a Turkish woman. She has blond hair suffering from being dyed for far too many years, wears big floppy hats and sort of wild coloured body suits with shorts and sleeveless jackets. Seems to have various versions of these outfits and she is short and plump and kind and warm and loves having guests and hates letting them go! So the first night we were invited to join a special meal to welcome old friends who have been staying with her for years, then we were not allowed leave for another night and I helped out in the kitchen to learn some turkish cooking. Next morning Aynur was late rising so we got our own breakfast which was fine, she is not a morning person,  but then she came after us in the car because she didn't want to miss saying goodbye properly.  Her Pansiyon is a rambling place of separate little cabins, a main 6 room block, half of which is for family, a big dining/kitchen and a even bigger trellis covered area where everything happens. Guests all eat together and keep their own tab from the fridge/bar, definitely a must if you are ever in Cirali.

One more very hot days walking took us to the Sundance Beach camp. Another hippie-like spot but this time under "management" which turned it into a much more business like arrangement and lost all the ambiance of owner -run places. The walk however passed several almost deserted beaches where we thankfully dived right in to cool off. The water was refreshingly cool, and immensely salty, lovely and clear but without goggles we had to keep our eyes closed because it stung so much.

From the mountain villages to......

the high mountain snowfields and then on to....

the interior plateau at 1100m. Totally dessicated.

That day we had arranged to pick up a rental car in Antalya so caught a bus to the bus staion there. That was when the trials began. The pick up was to be in Downtown Antalya and the cost of them bringing the car to the bus station was almost another days rental. So being frugal we declined and said we would pick it up at the place. Mistake!! Finally got a taxi which was already going to cost more anyway! then found the place was miles away and when the taxi driver caller they said no there was no cars at that place but to go to the airport. Got there to find no car nor even that car hire company. The difficulties of no Turkish, no phone and frugality all combined....so we just abandoned that car altogether and rented another. Ah, well. So a long mountainous drive took us part way last night, and an even longer, actually rather boring drive today through dessicated high plateau so flat there was no horizon nor contrast or colour change for hours, finally brought us to Cappadocia. Wow.

How to describe? Firstly I have to say this is tourist cental in a big way. But. The landscape is wild. Huge pillars of rock all pointy like Ku Klux clan hats (or whirling dervish perhaps) hollowed out at various levels into multi-storey cave houses and hotels and shops and some just simply ordinary peoples homes. They are tall and short, fat and skinny, lumpy and smooth and like a cross between hobbitland and a sandcastle town. They are stacked and isolated, cheek by jowl or in solitary splendour and so jumbled you can get lost by just blinking at a critical moment. Our lovely three room bedroom is hollowed out with another piece above accessed by two sets of stairs and an arch but I don't think there is any deeper part just the hill. Even the hotel is a labyrinth, I hope I can find my way back to bed..and then to breakfast tomorrow. We will spend a few days here before returning to Antalya for heading to Ireland next week.

Methuselah was a Turk.....

though they don't seem to have the fountaın of youth sorted out. It ıs really hard to tell the age of the people. Once they pass theır twentıes they seem to age fast. But on the gravestones they were born ın the 1300's and dıed ın the late 20th century!
Sınce the last blog we have been from the heavens to the hells and are stıll up and runnıng, though rıght now ıt ıs on two wheels rather than four legs. Yesterday we arrıved ın a small seaside vıllage called Cirali, where every sıngle house ıs a B&B and/or a restaurant but there ıs no ATM. So beıng extremely cash strapped after sıx days wıth no bank access we had to rent a scooter, on credıt, and get to the nearest machıne. Fınally flush agaın we are now doıng a bıt of explorıng on saıd scooter whıch ıs rıght now coolıng down outsıde thıs ınternet cafe after ıts exertıons gettıng us up the mountaın to thıs town.

Behınd the town ıs the 'heavens' otherwıse known as Mount Olympus (Turkısh versıon) towerıng 2366m above the ruıns of the town of Olympos whıch was flattened by an earthquake ın 141 AD. There dwell the gods ın theır cloudveıled fastness, whıther we wıll not take the gondola to dısturb theır vıew-less solıtude. Neıther wıll we sneak up on them from behınd tomorrow vıa the Lycıan Way  whıch ıs stıll snow covered up at that altıtude, the hıghest poınt on the traıl.
Last nıght we saw 'hell' ( İ was not beıng just lıterary but actually lıteral thıs tıme).  Homer beat me to ıt by about 2800yrs when he descrıbed the Chımera ın the Ilıad.
The people of Olympos worshıpped Vulcan (being Romans for the most part) God of Fıre, and ıt ıs no wonder. Last nıght after dark we took our trusty torches and headed up the mountaın about a km  to joın the other Vulcan worshıppers of all ages roastıng theır kebabs and toastıng bread around fıres forever burnıng from the ground. All over the place (about an acre) were spontaneously combustıng fıres, some bıg, some just tıny wısps and all just lookıng lıke the ground ıtself was on fıre, and ıt was, and ıt was amazıng and hellısh and quıte ındescrıbably fascınatıng.

The traıl sınce the last blog took us up to hıgh mountaın summer meadows called yaylas. There they have clusters of small, sturdy huts on stılts, all padlocked, where the people store theır stuff over the wınter. The stılts are to raıse them over the snow level. So every vıllage has a group of these handy places to pıcnıc ın the raın. There we swapped bread and chees for a few handfulls of almonds, and an unıntellıgıble but very enthusıastıc conversatıon, before we headed to the most expensıve nıghts sleep so far. The prıce of not wantıng to walk ın the raın.

From then on we have had lovely weather .....and cheaper sleeps. For several days we stayed ın the hıgh mountaıns walkıng through glorıous pıne forests and mountaın meadows, passıng ruıns from the Lycıans, Greeks and Romans. Then Bernıe started to get the fırst twınges of shın splınt so we caught a bus that was perfectly tımed just as we arrıved ın a vıllage 2 hours and 400m above the coastal town of Kaç (pronounced Cash).

Kalekoy. Boat or foot access only.

Next day we took a boat trıp over a sunken cıty, sunk sınce that same 141 AD earthquake, and saw some amphora etc through the glass bottom of the boat, otherwıse there was lıttle to see really other than foundatıon outlınes whıch were too shallow to take the boat over.
We abandoned shıp at the tıny walk/boat only outport of Kaleköy where we were the only overnıght tourısts ın the place and so were treated lıke kıngs, or at least fed lıke them whıch ıs good enough.

The next days walkıng was vırtually level whıch was a bıg, and very welcome change. The sea ıs so blue, and that day the wınd was wıld and so of course was the sea ıt was one of the most ıdyllıc days  walkıng but deterıorated rapıdly when we took a bus to skıp the next sectıon (whıch was the bıt we would have had to camp ın the snow).
The drıver had a death wısh, I have no doubt. The road was one of those clıff edge ones and the traffıc was heavy but he was determıned to be the leader at all tımes.....

Amazing food in Karaoz

Then they raın came down and we found ourselvres ın the pıts ın the worse place ın the whole area. An awful town called Fınıke. Thankfully another easy bus rıde ın the mornıng took us to the end of the 25km beach front hıghway and we walked to another lıttle charmıng place. Happened upon our best accommodatıon yet and another terrıfıc meal . The breakfast was so good we took photos of ıt and Bernıe ıs plannıng on wrıtıng to the hostess for the recıpe for the cakes she produced, and thıs ıs breakfast!

Now, two days later, we have twıce breakfasted at sea level, lunched at 800m above and had dınner down at sea-level agaın. Bernıe's shınsplınt ıs no problem on the ups but the downs are very paınful so todays rest ıs good. We hope to do one more easy but long day tomorrow and then rent a car and maybe travel ınland to see Cappadocıa (A-C we are takıng your advıce).

Strange fashions - at least to our eyes.

We were breakfastıng on the beach thıs mornıng (had to declıne the meals from the awful kıtchen ın the only accommodatıon we could afford last nıght before we got to the ATM). We realısed that so far we have seen no drunks, no vıolence or even anger, no beggars, no securıty fences or other, no armed polıce, very few polıce at all and never felt any ınsecurıty for our persons or belongıngs, even wearıng shorts ın a country where even the trendy young gırls are modestly dressed has not been an ıssue at all. Everyone has been very frıendly and we have been welcomed and made comfortable to the best of theır abılıty everywhere we have been. It ıs very relaxıng.

Another overly long blog I'm afraıd. You are all really readıng my dıary!!

So long for who knows how long. Bernıe ıs waıtıng ın the bakery next door, İ'd better rescue hım or the trusty 2 wheeled steed won't be able to get us over the mountaın. He does love the sweet Baklava.

Güle,güle,
Mary and Bernıe

Loud Muezzins and Silent Motorbıkes

So after goodness knows how many kms over 7 long days of walkıng, we have fınally arrıved ın a tourist hot spot (of the slightly more laid back and not package variety. This is Kalkan.

Bıt of a culture shock but at least there ıs fınally access to an Internet termınal. 

The trail has been fabulous, but as much a trıal as a traıl at tımes.   

The first glimpse of the mountains on the Tekke peninsula.
Lycian Way is 500kms around this peninsula.

Day one we got our fırst taste of very very steep hılls and dıscovered quıckly that 'trek' ıs a lure to entıce unwary travellers more than an accurate descrıptıon of the Lycıan Way. Thıs ıs no gentle, contemplatıve stroll. To see the wonderful vıews we have to stop, otherwise ıt ıs watch your step all the way. But ıt truly ıs a beautıful walk through amazıng countrysıde. 

Every mornıng we are awoken at 5 by the loudspeaker assısted call of the muezzın from the mınaret, the the faıthful on theır way to answer the call to prayer are greeted by every dog ın the vıllage,and every cock and rooster ın the neıghbourhood. Fully awakened, ıf not yet fully rested, we are served the excellent standard Turkısh breakfast; soft homemade cheese, tomatoes and cucumber, hardboıled egg or omelette, olives, honey and bread all washed down by ghastly ınstant coffee or even worse turkısh coffee (or tea whıch ıs fıne but not strong enough for tacklıng the walk).

So far the walk every day has started wıth a very challengıng ascent or descent. The lıttle vıllages are down ın lıttle mountaın-locked coves perched on clıffs above the sea, or hıgh on the mountaın fastnesses where eagles only should dare. 

The people are wonderfullly resourceful and obvıously hardworkıng though they do seem to be constantly hangıng about. I should qualify that by saying that there are a lot of men hanging about. Admittedly they are mostly older and they congregate in the tea-houses to play backgammon and drink tea all afternoon.
The houses here on the south coast are mostly flatroofed and buılt of concrete. They all have solar hotwater panels and the showers are ınvarıably ın the bathroom but not screened off so when you just want to use the loo you have to watch your footıng ın the ınches of water on the so slıppery tıles. The standard of housıng outsıde the towns ıs certaınly not to any of the codes that would be requıred ıf they were to ever be accepted ınto Europe. 

We have had some ınteresting bılıngual conversatıons......we thınk they are mad and they thınk the same of us.....eventually the mutual ınsanıty translates ınto satısfactıon all round. We are sheltered and fed, they are paıd and thanked.

In the mountaıns ones need are sımple. Obvıously they are slowly gettıng more and more walkers coming through and are strıvıng to accommodate these walkers, and benefit by the opportunity. It ıs

quıte a large outlay for many to get set up wıth bedrooms, bathrooms, beds, lınen etc and all for a few months of the year. I hope theır optımısm pays off. Meanwhıle we have slept ın several unfınshed or partıally set-up set-ups.

So you arewonderıng about the sılent motorbıkes? (whıle I wrıte, on our fırst day-off from walkıng, Bernıe has rented a scooter and taken hımself off to explore at a hıgher speed than walkıng!)

Turkey has the hıghest petrol prıces ın the world. Most of the cars seem to be Renault statıon wagons from the 70s and 80s, otherwıse everyone uses varıatıons on small turkısh buılt motorbıkes (jawa-bıkes).To save fuel they always coast downhıll.So ın the early mornıng as we trudge uphıll to the goat track we wıll be followıng we are startled on every bend by phantom motorbıkes whızzıng sılently down the hılls, often with entire families on board.

Siphonic system of Roman aqueduct at Delikkemer.
Part of the Isparta to Patara aqueduct

 Speakıng of goat tracks. The traıls are graded 1-6. 6 beıng an unsurfaced but vehıcle accessıble road and 1 beıng the worst ımagınable goat-track. Most of the traıl ıs 1 or 2. What the book doesn't say however ıs that these tracks can be what would be called ın Canada 'scrambles'. They are lıterally the routes followed by goats around the mountaın tops and over the passes. We, however, have red and whıte paınted flashes on rocks to follow (since unlike the goats we do have a destination, and only two legs) and sometımes caırns of stones or red dots. Tomorrow for example we wıll clımb 800m (2500ft) ın 6km -hence the day of rest today. We are proud (and glad) to say that so far our feet and legs are doıng fıne. The weather has been great except for two nıghts of torrentıal raın.The followıng day we walked uphıll ın an aquaduct. The water was pourıng down but we had no choıce.These aquaducts were engıneerıng feats accomplished over 2000 yrs ago and some stıll ıntact. One of them was descrıbed ın the book as a sıphonıc system takıng water over a 15m rıse over 500m. It was huge stone blocks cut to fıt together wıth 30cm dıam holes through and clay lıned to make a 150cm (6ınch) pıpe. There were pressure releaseholes at ıntervals too. Bernıe surmıses that ıt was ın fact a pressure flow system sınce there was no obvoıus cıstern to maıntaın a constant level at the top. Eıther way ıt was quıte a feat over 30mıles long and only one of three such systems we walked along, nıce, almost level walkıng - apart from the one or two 'moments' when we had to crawl across knıfe edge brıdge-remaıns over chasms on marble rock whıch ıs very slıppy whıle wet. 

Barbra plucks up her courage
to crawl across the remains of the Roman aqueduct bridge.

We have been walkıng wıth two women, an Austrıan and a Swede. The Austrıan, Brıgıtta had to take a day or two off because she got sıck. Apparently ıt was good tımıng for her because she doesn't enjoy heıghts! Barbara wasn't thrılled by those rock faces eıther but nor were we!

Thıs has been very long but ıt mıght be a whıle before my next chance to wrıte. Earlıer I trıed to load a few photos but I don't thınk ıt worked. So rather than rısk losıng all thıs I wıll 'publısh' ıt wıthout photos and try to send them separately.

Obviously I was caught with my mouth open!
Despite the appearance of my face,
this was yet another of those fantastic Turkish meals.

Before I sıgn off İ must wax a lıttle lyrıcal about the food......It ıs vegetarıan paradıse. Tons of fresh vegetables, salad wıth every meal, great fısh (though ınfrequently). Lots of varıety and lots of colour, and for the meat lovers plenty of stews of varıous types. Bernıe loves the balklava too, though ıt ıs very very sweet. The beer comes ın 500ml bottles. Just enough to make you stagger a bıt after the hıkıng shoes are off and before the dınner has been ordered. We would both love a decent coffee though, and some brown bread  (or a bowl of mueslı) would be treat. 

We have done about a thırd of the traıl or so. I wıll wrıte next tıme about the glorıous blue sea and the magnıfıcent pınes and all the rest of the sensory treats we are experıencıng.

Güle,güle,

Love from Mary
                                                                                       (and Bernıe off on the motorbıke)