It’s cliché, but Turkey truly is the bridge between eastern and
western society, with Istanbul at the center. A grimy city full of
struggling people - like the old days of New York, it's a place of
chaos and wonder. Like Rome, a place where history clashes with it's
present and future; and many are looking to make a greasy buck from
it. It's a beautiful mess of winding cobblestone streets and
congested highways. A city, originally built on seven hills with a
series of bridges and a maze of surrounding waterways, it's a kind of
grandiose explosion of San Francisco/Amsterdam stew. It fascinates me
to see a cities history and future success so dependent of its
geographical location and makeup; but this, and it's people, are what
make Istanbul so special, so relevant… at least that's my impression.
It's been half a month since we returned from our tour around western
Turkey, just enough time to soak up the effects of two weeks by the
see, and a week exploring the streets of Istanbul. We arrived in
Istanbul on the night of Saturday August 19. After a harrowing day at
Charles de Gaulle Airport and a trip through customs, Imre's sister,
Burcu, was there to greet us. At the end of the ride home we enjoyed
a dinner of savory Turkish pastries and cay (tea), as would be the
custom of many meals to come. On Sunday I enjoyed the first of many
family gatherings over a breakfast of olives, tomatoes, cheeses, and
fresh-chilled nuts, on the Bosphorous. After a day of visiting
friends along our drive up the Bosphorous coast, we prepared for our
trip south.
Monday was the beginning of our travels around the Aegean and
Mediterranean coasts. Our initial drive was a ten-hour trip bound for
Side. A small town in the region of Antalya, where we would spend two
nights with Imre's grandparents, and get our first taste of the sea.
We stopped for lunch along the way, and I had my first taste of Ayran,
a savory yogurt drink – like Indian lassi – that I have come to love.
The trip was long, but beautiful and parts of it reminded me of the
mountain towns in the California Sierras. About an hour to our final
destination we took a detour up a dirt road, at the end of which we
met a group of local children, and discussed the good fortune of their
simple life in a mountaintop home, with sensational views – thus began
my love for the people and places of Turkey in its purest form.
Our first night in Side was a hot one. The weather was balmy, and his
grandparents were sitting under a circular fan on their front porch
when we arrived. With kisses and welcoming smiles, I truly felt at
home in their little summerhouse. Imre's grandmother served us a
delicious feast, and we ended the evening with a dip in the Mediterranean, an
excellent introduction to our first of many. Our first day in Side we
spent the morning by the sea, then took a trip up to the mountains,
and a little canyon called Koprulu Canyon, where we ate by the river,
a feast of fresh fish and cold salads. After our delicious binge we
took a nap in the various hammocks that hung around the tables, and
played with a local mangy dog. That night we enjoyed Gozleme, a
savory, pastry-like crepe, from the local bizarre and market, and
spent the evening mapping out our trip up the Aegean Coast.
Wednesday morning we arose to the smell of homemade Lokma (a
fried-bread treat), and enjoyed breakfast with his grandparents before
hitting the road. Another day of driving began, as we headed towards
our destination near Mount Olympos. On the way, we took a couple of
detours to Karain Cave - an anthropological site in the side of a
mountain with a history of thousands of years of inhabitants, and
Termessos – a 2400 year old city in ruins at the top of a mountain
(one of the most impressive I've seen to date).
After a long day of driving and hiking in the sun, we arrived at our camp
in Pheselis, a place called Sundance. A Turkish hippy spot that feels a
little like a yogic commune, it's a friendly spot, but we felt a little like
outsiders. Set on a bay with a stream that runs through the center of
camp, there are two small wooden bridges that link the campsite and
bungalows to the bar, restaurant, and parking areas. The campsite is
in the back closest to the sea, with access to a beach and a beautiful
nighttime sea-viewing spot we enjoyed under a tree. The bar, on the
far side of the stream, has a terracotta roof and a lounge area with
mats and floor pillows. Just outside there is a semi-circle of
benches where they hold a nightly bonfire. If you follow the stream
around and across it leads to the restaurant, where the roofed kitchen
and café areas are set next to a series of outdoor tables and tiki
torches, encircled in a grove of Eucalyptus trees. We enjoyed all of
our meals here, from a menu of delicious organic salads and pastries.
There are wooden lounges, and swing benches all around the campsite
for napping and reading.
Our first day here we took a trip to Caveli
beach where we climbed the rocks below the ruins of the city of
Olympos, and took a swim through the coves. After two nights at
Sundance it was time to move on.
Friday morning it was off to Kas. On the way we took a detour to
Ucagiz, where we enjoyed our second day of local flavor. Along the
road to the sea we happened upon a couple of guys carrying water, and
offered them a ride up the road. Umit and his friend shared stories
and lunch with us at their farm up the mountain. They shared stories
about Turkish life and politics, while we enjoyed homemade goats milk
Ayran, a tomato dish and yufka (home-made tortillas). Our view was of the sea
and an old tree - I believe it was Tamarind - that acted as a home to
the 20 some-odd chickens he had.
The tree beared a fruit whose sweet
black syrup helps to cure cancer, Umit gave us a jar. After lunch
Umit took us to his home, a shack on the side of the road, where he
paints and sells spices. We perused through his stained-glass
windows, and bought one of his paintings, then headed down to the bay
for a swim.
At Ucagiz we took a private tour of the bay, and saw the
underwater ruins of the ancient city in our glass bottom boat. We
took a swim at the beach surrounded by the other little tour boats,
and headed back to the docks to continue on to Kas.
We arrived at the campsite at Kas after dark. We were lucky enough to
find a little spot under an olive tree, and we pitched our tent before
heading out to find some dinner in the town center. In the morning we
had breakfast at the seashore, in a little hut restaurant,
surrounded by wooden lounges and thatched umbrellas, at the top of
a series of stepped platforms leading down to the sea. There was a
beautiful little swimming area with an old windsurf board buoyed to
the sea floor as a raft. We spent the day swimming and sunning, then
headed towards our next destination, Bodrum. Stopping along the way
for a quick swim at a dirty little beach spot near Fetihye.
Bodrum is a large resort peninsula where Imre's parents have a summer
home.
We spent three nights here visiting his aunt and uncle – who
had a house next-door to us – and exploring the peninsula. When we
arrived, we were pleased to discover that the syrup we had acquired
from Umit, came in aid to the ailing lungs of his aunt's mother. The
day before we had arrived, it was recommended to her by a friend, but
seeing as how the syrup was somewhat difficult to come by, our arrival
had been quite fortuitous. That night we, again, enjoyed a delicious
dinner with olives from his other uncle's grove.
In the morning; after our usual breakfast of olives, tomatoes,
cheeses, and simit (a sesame pastry); we met Imre's friend Cenk at a
lavish resort on the far side of the peninsula. After a few hours of
swimming, and a more than sufficient pampering by the sea, we headed
to a little hilltop spot by the sea to enjoy the last hour or so of
daylight. Day two, we paid a visit to Ebru, a yogi friend spending a
week at a hidden retreat at Karakaya (Black Rock). We enjoyed the
grounds, took a swim in the horizon pool, and scaled the namesake rock
to enjoy the view.
After a rough climb in flip-flops, I headed to the
town of ruins adjacent to the grounds to snap a few pictures before
the sun set. Dinner at the camp was the usual delicious fare, and
after an hour of life discussion, we headed back home. Our last day
in Bodrum, we made our rounds, enjoying cay and tales with Imre's
various relatives then headed north towards Ayvalik.
It was Tuesday afternoon, and we had a late start on the day, so after
discovering a national park on the map, we decided to take a look for
a spot to camp. On our way down the peninsula we discovered a little
Greek village, called Doganbey, set back in the ravine of two
mountains. The town originally inhabited by Greeks, was conquered by
the Turks, then abandoned for several hundred years, until the 1980s
when a group of professors bought property there and began restoration
on the houses of the little town. We got out to explore the ruins,
and while crossing the bridge over the dried up stream that ran
through it, happened upon the old mosque, aqueducts, and refurbished
stone houses. After draining all the memory from my camera, I found
Imre, talking with a local about a spot to stay in town. We followed
his directions to a tiny piazza surrounded by four houses and met with
the owner who rents them. That night we stayed in a two-story
Scandinavian-style loft house, with an amazing view for a modest $30,
breakfast included.
Before retiring we had dinner at a local fish
restaurant, and indulged in a glass of chilled Raki (an anise-like
liquor). In the morning the owner served us a delicious feast on a
piece of an ancient column from the old church he had converted into a table.
After breakfast we took a nap to escape the worst of the heat, then headed
to Karine beach at the end of the peninsula.
Wednesday was another late start and we spent the night camping in
a divey little windsurfing town on our way to his uncle Turhan's.
Thursday afternoon we arrived at Gomec, and met his uncle for a tour
of his olive grove. As we approached the grove we passed through
several tiny villages with olive oil factories. The pungent smell of
pressed olives hung thick in the air.
That evening we took a tour of the bay near his home at Burhaniye. He
had an old boat that chugged a bit and spuyed a strong smell of gas, but
was a dream on water.
After a failed attempt at late evening fishing, we
docked at dark, and had a fish dinner delivered to the boat from a local restaurant.
Friday, we began our trek back to Istanbul, our adventure by the sea
was coming to a close. We had our usual morning swim, and breakfast
in Burhaniye, then got on the road. Along our way we stopped at what
would later become our favorite of all beaches just outside Troy,
for a final dip. Like a true northern California beach, there was soft sand
and a desolate coast, perfect for a last hoorah with the sea. That night we
arrived in Istanbul late. Had a 1AM bite, then headed off to Slumberland.
Saturday began our tale of Istanbul, and with the current length of
this story, I will try to keep it short. We spent our first day back
it Imre's cousin, Aysha's, wedding. I had another opportunity to meet
with his family and share in one last communal hoorah, before our trip
was out. After the ceremony we spent the evening at a restaurant in
Sultanhamet, where we danced and indulged in the food and Raki. The
week in the city was bittersweet.
What a wonderful place to lose yourself, but a bit sad to leave the
sea. Imre had to pay a visit to his dad a few hours away, so I had
two days to myself to walk around Istanbul. I saw of the tourist
favorites, and spent an hour or two walking around the Grand Bizarre.
On my last day in Istanbul I took a ferry to the islands of the
Marmora, to enjoy the sun and the sea for the last time.
On Boyokada, the largest of the islands, I rented a bike to tour around. The
bicycle was a rickety one that probably hadn't seen a can of oil since
the day it was bought and sounded like a trash bag full of tin cans,
but was charming in its raggedy way. I made a stop at Heybeliada to
have some lunch, then caught the boat back to meet Burcu and pick up
Imre from the bus station.
Friday we packed our things and enjoyed our last Turkish breakfast
before heading to the airport. Our trip was over, all save a somewhat
grueling night at Charles de Gaulle and our long flight back to New
York. Home again, home again, and so our story ends.
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