Meeting with Gamze at four in the morning and having our traditional breakfast of some alcoholic beverage to calm her down before the flight, we headed to the airport to meet the rest of the gang. There we met with our guru Benoit, the youngest member of our group Ipek, and a Catalan from Spain Pau. The last member of this multi-national multi-generational group, the eldest but young at heart Steve from the States was going to be arriving by a different flight at our destination. Always being very nervous about taking a flight, and some of the flights taking place at night time, Gamze had never seen the clouds from an airplane in daylight. Watching her pure amazement and excitement about the clouds, short journey to Dalaman went by in a blink of an eye. After landing, we started waiting at the airport for Steve’s flight to arrive. As passengers started coming out of his flight, Benoit received a phone call from Steve saying that he had confused the dates and was arriving tomorrow. Since his call came just as the passengers started coming out, we first thought he was pulling our leg. But since there still wasn’t any sight of him as the very last passenger left the baggage claim area, we decided to believe him and headed in town to begin our journey.
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| Not realizing that all the dishes they served came with some fries on the side we had ordered plates of fries on top, so ended up with a breakfast full of fries. |
After couple of short bus rides we arrived at
the beginning of our trail, and started walking a path that has been in use
since the days of the Carian civilization some three thousand years ago. We were fortunate to have a great photographer
in the group, İpek, to whom I owe many thanks for all the pictures posted on
this episode. As we started getting further away from the town and deeper in
the forest, Ipek pulled out her camera and started taking shots of the nature.
Before long, she spotted a walking tree. As we were debating whether or not
such an old trail could have some magical powers to itself, moving tree turned
out to be an old woman carrying what seemed like the half of the forest on her
back. She was taking firewood to her home and was looking very picturesque,
except that she wouldn’t let any pictures of herself taken on the grounds that
she wasn’t dressed nice enough!
Walking the first short leg of the trip under
some light rain, we arrived at the town of Turunc, where we would spend the
night. Town was quite developed, but very quiet and deserted at the same time
for the tourism season not having started yet. After dinner we found the only
bar open in town and ordered some raki as an organic muscle relaxant. As he
somehow always manages to do so, Benoit started talking about his favorite
subject of Roman roads (see Isparta entry), and soon it all started sounding
like a sweet lullaby and we all found ourselves in a deep deep sleep.
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| Gamze's trademark "I love mother earth" pose |
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| Turunc village |
In the morning Steve was waiting for us at the
breakfast table. Having finally completed our group, all six of us, with ages
from 25 to 75, coming from Asian, European and North American continents,
enjoyed our breakfast at the hotel. Gamze’s attempts of making friends with
hotel’s cat Osman by offering him some hot dog were shockingly declined as he
just sniffed the cheap hot dog and decided it wasn’t up to his standards. Cats
are really spoiled in Turkey.
Along our route for the day, we stopped by
ruins of ancient city of Amos. Regardless of age, one thing we all agreed on
was taking it easy. For every hour of walking we were taking a break almost as
long. We might not have been hardcore hikers perhaps, but were all keen on
taking all beauties of the nature in. Sea was also looking very inviting, but
none of us dared to go in, as the water was still very cold, coming out of
winter. We found ourselves the ultimate camping site, surrounded by the ruins
of yet another ancient city, with a creek running below, backdrop of mountains
and a gorgeous sea view in front of us. First building a campfire, Pau took on
the project of building a mini amphitheater around the fire for everyone to sit
on. After dinner, all enjoyed some thyme tea brewed by freshly picked thyme
growing all around us while pleasantly chatting around the campfire under the
full moon light and the sounds of owls in the background.
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| Three Wise Men |
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| A cheap take on Gamze's famous pose |
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| Bee farming is widespread in the area |
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| Bambina giving her "I'm not stepping in that tent until that spider is out of there" look |
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| While setting up my coffin-like tent |
Having learned my lesson the hard way the
previous trip (see Melas Canyon), I decided to pack as light as possible this
time, and decided to borrow Benoit’s coffin-like tent to sleep in. Not having
any problems with claustrophobia, I didn’t mind not having any extra space but
for my body in the tent if it wasn’t for the rain that seeped through the tent.
Nevertheless to say it was my first and last night in that coffin-tent, but at
least I got a free demo for the afterlife. After rekindling the campfire and
having breakfast, we packed up to hit the trail again, but realized we had used
up all our water and needed some more to put out the campfire. As a man of many talents, I pulled out my
fireman hat (ok, actually pulled out something else) and distinguished the fire
with natural powers (or more correctly fluids) mother earth had provided me
with.
Not long before on the trail we came across a
herd of cows also hiking the same trail (or grazing the trail). First we
enjoyed walking along with them, and tried really hard to get a moolfie, but
they turned out to be not so hardcore hikers but rather eaters. After trying to
communicate with them in their own language and failing with that, we tried to
pass them when we got to a plain, but this time a bad tempered bull started to
prepare for a charge towards us, thinking that we were there to hurt his calf
(and he had some reason for that, as I wouldn’t mind having that cute little
thing for dinner). That’s until I stepped forward and flexed couple of muscles
of course. Seeing that he was no match for me, he calmed down and backed off.
Somewhere along the trail Steve managed to
vanish mysteriously in three seconds that we were all looking a different
direction. Not even David Copperfield could make himself disappear that
quickly, believe me. I may be a man of many talents, but this man definitely is
a man of many tricks. Just ask Pau, and he can tell you of Steve’s “very funny”
trick of hiding rocks (not pebbles or anything, good old rocks) in other people’s
backpacks! By the time we were able to reach him on his cellphone, he was
already in a bus heading over to our destination village. Arriving at Bayır
village and finding our mischievous friend Steve, we managed to land a room in
one of the villagers’ house to spend the night.
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| Another failed attempt at taking a moolfie |
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| The bull is more interested in getting its picture taken than Benoit |
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| An ancient olive oil press remain |
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| Sunset at teahouse |
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| Gourmet Ipek honey tasting |
Shortly after leaving the village of Bayır, we
came across a shack with a smoking chimney. When we peaked in we were welcomed
by a sweet couple, who were farming the hills right above the village. As is
the custom in the countryside, they wouldn’t let us leave without sharing a cup
of tea with them. We gladly accepted the offer and spend some very precious
moments listening to their stories about their family and village life. One
might hike the most gorgeous landscapes, but it’s that spontaneous and sincere
human interaction that beats it all for me.
Jumping over many rock walls and fences, and
lunching in a field covered with daisies, we were once again welcomed for yet
another tea stop this time by a very eccentric villager named Dursun. He was a
very romantic and poetic guy, referring everyone by saying “my precious” (and
not in the freaky manner of Gollum, but rather in a friendly, charming way). We
were treated to thyme tea and cookies, and his wife showered the girls with
gifts of flowers, bay leaves, chamomile tea and fresh garlic. Dursun (also
known as “police”) with his punk hair, blistered hands, and poetic speeches
came as a nice surprise in the least expected of the places.
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| Explorers examining the day's route |
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| Enjoying a champion's breakfast |
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| We were greeted by Halil Ibrahim Sengul |
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| Halil Ibrahim and his spouse Ucgul Sengul (her name and last name translate to Three-rose Joyful-rose). Warm, friendly, naive people. |
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| The Daltons |
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| A poetic welcoming sign by Dursun |
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| Thyme tea and flowers offered by Dursun and his wife |
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| "My precious" Dursun |
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| A lunch break in the daisy fields |
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| Men at work |
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| The joy of collecting firewood reflected on Bambina's face |
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| Having fun with psychedelic photo shoots |
The next day we passed through the town of
İsteriç, covered with almond trees in full bloom with their white and pink
flowers, and arrived at the town of Taşlıca (literally meaning Stony, a well-deserved
name with the whole trail leading up to it covered with stone). There we found
shelter at the old school building and dined at the tea shop. You wouldn’t
believe how many tea shops exist in these small villages. And they’re usually
right next to or across from each other. It’s not hard to imagine that there’s
some bitterness and rivalry between all the owners.
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| Stony path leading up to the village of "Stony" |
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| Girls taking a ride country style |
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| Gamze treating her sunburns with yoghurt |
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| Our dinner at the teahouse: a bucket of yoghurt with chips, grilled cheese and eggs |
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| The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. You decide who is who. |
One of the best parts of this trail was that
the whole trail was along the coastline. Sometimes we were atop a mountain with
the view of the sea in the distance, some other time walking on a beach right
alongside it. That day, passing through the cute little beach town of
Cumhuriyet, we arrived at the bay of Kızılyer, and time had come to make a
decision. We either would walk all rest of the day to arrive at our
destination, or as we had read on a blog of a person who had done this route
before, we could arrange a boat ride to get there quicker, which felt a little
bit like cheating, but hey, a little cheating wouldn’t hurt anyone right?! We called a captain of whom the phone number
was provided on the blog (http://metinkurtiletrekking.blogspot.com.tr/) and met him by his little boat,
all ready to go with bottles of beer for the trip. It was the best decision we
had made throughout the journey. Having the skies quite cloudy and the sea wavy
only added to the fun and made it one of the most memorable moments of the
journey.
Arriving at Bozburun, we got rooms at Suna
Pansiyon, which was a small hotel run by three women, a mother and two
daughters. It was very pleasing to see three strong women running a successful
business in a country where it’s heavily male dominated, especially in rural
areas. They treated us to a welcome lunch with fresh greens from their garden,
cheese and crackers. We declared it a relaxation day, and everyone got to take
their very first showers on the journey (except for me of course, as was the
tradition, I had taken one a few days ago with ice cold water at the villager’s
house).
That night we spoiled ourselves with a nice
seafood dinner. Taking a walk in the village after dinner, we managed to get
lost, which is a very hard thing to achieve in such a small village. Eventually
finding our way back to the hotel, we heard some nice music playing at a
restaurant, and decided to stop for one last drink before heading back (last
drinks are a trademark of Benoit, always gotta have one). We started singing along the well-known
Turkish songs they were playing, then found ourselves listening to fado,
dancing to bachata and salsa, and concluded the evening with plates getting
smashed on the stage to Benoit’s Greek dancing. It was as if we were beamed to
Greece in this restaurant called Adanalı Cumali’nin Yeri. There are moments on
every trip that make the whole trip worthwhile by itself alone, that night was
one of those moments.
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| Our hero Captain Menderes with one hand on wheel the other on beer |
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| Having fun with the waves |
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| Joy |
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| One of those babies were in our tummies by that night |
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| Our welcoming table at Suna Pansiyon |
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| Chilling after a rough! boat ride |
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| Boat instead of cars are parked in front of houses in Bozburun |
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| It's bachata time in Bozburun |
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| Moments after this picture plates were getting smashed on the stage in honor of Benoit's Greek dancing |
Leaving Bozburun the next day, we first lost
our way, eventually navigating a new path we made it to the town of Selimiye.
Compared to all other towns we had passed through on the journey, Selimiye
seemed more like Cote D’azur with boutique hotels and fancy restaurants lining
up one after another along the coastline. As fancy as it was they were all
closed but one, called Sardunya, since the season had not started yet. With the
jet-setter crowd dining in the restaurant, we were quickly turned down by the
owner due to our shabby looks, stating that they didn’t have a room, which
obviously was a lie. We found a much warmer welcome at a home-cooking
restaurant right next to the teahouse of the village (eat there), and at Birgul
Teyzenin Evi (stay here).
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| Gamze reading Ipek's coffee fortune about what's waiting for us ahead |
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| Ipek celebrating 8th of March, World Women's Day, by relaxing on a hammock |
It had been a few days on the road already, we
were starting to get a little tired and the boat ride the other day had spoiled
us as well, so we decided to skip the first part of the next leg of the hike,
which according to the guides wasn’t all that interesting. Renting a mercedes
van with a driver and traveling in style, we got dropped off halfway through
the trail and hiked through beautiful scenery alongside waterfalls to arrive at
the town of Turgut. One thing we always tried but never accomplished throughout
every hike was getting a whole lamb roasted for us (see Melas Canyon hike). But
this time I was determined to get that babe first on fire then in my belly. As
soon as we arrived to the town I started asking around everyone whether they
had a lamb available. First person I came across was the mayor of town, who was
also a shepherd himself with baby goats in his herd, but he said he never gets
any of his animals butchered, and that whenever one needs to be butchered he
sells them to far away cities not to witness it happening. I couldn’t believe
how attached he was to his animals, what the world had come to. Finally we were
able to find someone who agreed to provide us with one, but our moment of glory
was short lived as we soon discovered that the meat would need to rest
overnight and only would be ready to roast the next day, which was way too late
for us. Once again we had missed our chance of satisfying our primitive hunter
instincts by biting into that delicious meat.
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| No need for 72 virgins, I feel like I'm in heaven with these two beauties |
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| As for the tradition, I had to jump into cold waters of the river |
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| Jane looking for her Tarzan |
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| Tying our wish notes on a wish-making tree |
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| Not even Viet Congs can match up to us |
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| A burial chamber near Turgut village |
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| Turgut village |
On our last day we split into three groups with
Steve staying at the hotel meditating and exercising, Pau and Benoit hiking
around town (and supposedly seeing the best view of the whole trail. Yeah
right!), and girls and I taking a walk to the beach. There we watched a
fisherman walking slowly and patiently in the water with his fishing net in
hand, waiting for the right moment to throw it on the water, which never came
and we lost our patience before we could see him do it. We had been talking about
swimming at least once on the tour since the very first day, but hadn’t had a
chance so far, so I decided I would finally do it but the clouds diminished my
courage and the wind blew the last traces of it away, so I decided against it
after all.
Going back to Marmaris, the main town in the
area where our trip had begun, to catch a shuttle bus to the airport, we had
enough time to treat ourselves to one last meal. We decided to make it a grand
one to celebrate this wonderful journey with new friendships and unforgettable
memories. At a restaurant called Neighbours raki flowed like a river
accompanied with delicious meze and seafood (try cuttlefish for sure). Not
wanting to leave the table and cut our pleasure short, we decided to skip the
shuttle and rent yet another van with a driver to be able leave later and get
there faster. By the time we got on the road we were all a little tipsy from
the drinks, but more drunk from joy. We were singing and laughing our hearts
out the whole way to the airport, which took a good hour and a half. Landing in
Istanbul after a short flight we all went our separate ways to separate
continents.
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| We looted every fruit tree we came across the route. This time didn't need to loot though, sweet old lady stocked us up. |
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| My attempts of getting one of those in my belly were in vain |
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| Beauty |
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| To swim or not to swim, that is the question! |
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| A grand dinner to conclude this amazing trip |
