Last night

Though it took me a while to get used to the idea of having nothing to do for seven days, I eventually realized that it meant having nothing to do while hanging out with each other, and finally I see the virtue of spending several days in a place like this. 

It's just fun to be all together in such a relaxed atmosphere and we found ourselves in a nice little routine - wake, breakfast, morning stroll in search of tortoises, swim in the ocean, then read while the kids moved between the sea, waterslide and pool; lunch, check email maybe, go back to the pool, have drinks, tea time, get cleaned up for late dinner, dine, evening stroll, fall asleep, repeat. Someone other than ourselves is worrying about food and (except for the usual washing of underwear in the hotel room sink) laundry. I didn't realize how nice that would be. 

It's true that it doesn't exactly feel like Turkey, but that need was relieved by our day trips into Antalya, which were long enough to be satisfying but still left time to have a swim and drinks by the pool.
Seven days might still be a bit on the long side, but regardless of the time frame, I can certainly see doing something like this on a regular basis, just to have the chance to be fully relaxed and enjoy each others company.
It's our last night in Antalya, and out last night in the resort. I'm not holding back on dessert.

The entire collection of Turkey pictures at flickr: Turkey 2010

Sea change

We were a little dismayed to be balked of our daily swim in the Mediterranean upon our return from Antalya; the surf, while not really too much higher than that we've seen in Hawaii, had made the normally aquamarine water a muddy brown. This was a surprise, as only a few hours earlier we'd seen the water crystal clear by Antalya's Roman harbour, with plenty of people frolicking gaily below the terrace bar. But the harbour - being a harbour - is a good deal less exposed, with plenty of jutting rocks and promentories to give protection, while the beach here pretty much has nothing in front of it except Africa (specifically, Egypt). 

We had a great time walking the streets of the old town with its pretty cobbled roads and beautifully restored Ottoman houses, and small juice stands at viewpoints over the gulf, harbour, and waterfalls. The party boats come and go with plenty of blaring music, hooting and clapping. We are not going with them.

 

 Instead we buy knitted woolen socks, silk scarves, and little inlaid boxes - it's our last souvenir buying trip and we have plenty of leftover lira, having been quite parsimonious with them earlier in our travels.

On the way into town for lunch, we find ourselves running the usual gauntlet of restaurateurs beckoning you to eat at their establishment; when we hear someone shout "Canada!" it almost feels like being rescued, and we end up at the place run by the young man Tim took a card from a few days ago.

 I always used to say I didn't care for lamb, but now I realize it's mainly because I can't cook it worth crap - I love lamb in Turkey and I think I like it best as Iskender donair, shaved and served on flatbread with tomato sauce, yogurt, and oil. This is fast food in Turkey, but fast food here is made of actual recognizable ingredients and is fabulous. 

Elmas, the young man running the place, was as enthusiastically friendly as many of the Turks we have encountered elsewhere - but with the dream of perhaps emigrating to Canada and I fear I harshed his mellow big time  when he started asking about what a waiter might make relative to the rents you might have to pay in a city like Vancouver or Toronto.

"I think you crushed his dream mom" Theo teased, afterward, and Tim added "I feel like going back and telling him 'don't worry, she does this to everyone'".
Still, he seems like the sort of young fellow who won't stay down for long, though I would hate to think of anyone leaving sunny Antalya to freeze his ass off I'm Toronto for minimum wage.

More Antalya pictures

Back on the bus

We're headed into Antalya again, this time less bewildered than we were two days ago at the seemingly complicated system of picking up tourists from the resorts, then taking them to a staging area for redistribution amongst buses to different destinations. In fact, it works quite smoothly and efficiently and ensures that full buses take people where they meant to go. This involves a lot of head counting, note- taking, waving and pointing from the multilingual director. But the first language is conspicuously German. 

Antalya is a beautiful city and last time we walked into the old city, then took the tram out to the Museum, which was absolutely fantastic. The walk back along the clifftop promenade was warm, breezy and scenic as it overlooked Antalya gulf, the Bey mountains, Konyaalti beach and the old Roman harbor. We didn't, however have time to explore the old city of Kaleici, so we're going today.

Like Istanbul and Izmir, perhaps even more so, Antalya is a terrific walking city and full of interesting sights and shops. Last Saturday it also seemed to be market day of sorts, with vendors spreading out blankets to sit on the sidewalk with their bags of farm produce. 

Today is perhaps our last chance to pick up some souvenirs and apple tea, and maybe try some foods not available at the hotel. I'm not sure we are prepared for another alarming encounter with the ice cream vendors again, with their teasing, slight-of-hand service.

As it was last day, the bus is full of German tourists hoping to pick up bargains on genuine fake designer clothes at the modern bazaar. We aren't going there with them.

From that first day:

The Antalya museum was fantastic. You can take an oldfashioned tram from the old town to the museum, and the collection of marble sculptures, most excavated from old cities in Antalya province, are awe-inspiring. 

Also: socks!!

More pictures at the Flickr set: Antalya

Those Russians

While swimming in the pool his afternoon, Tim asked Stasha today if there was anything that would make this holiday more excellent, and she couldn't think of a thing, till this afternoon. "People here are so rude, Mom! The ladies just budge in line!"
Brought up to Canadian orderliness, she finds this deeply offensive. We have to admit that the Russians, in particular, are pretty in-your-face, to put it mildly.
"I can't tell if they're having an argument, or just an ordinary conversation" Tim murmered at lunch the other day. Certainly whether talking on a cell phone or just chewing food, they seem to be doing whatever they're doing with a sort of everyday aggression that's baffling to us.

Russians seem to be the majority here, closely followed by Germans; only today have there been any English speakers and even then, they remain sparse. Any unilingual Amglophones coming here hoping to make new friends would be sorely disappointed. Fortunately, being a self-contained family unit, we're content to talk amongst ourselves. It's still hard not to observe the general behaviour of the other guests and how they treat the wait staff; Tim and I had earlier speculated that the relative taciturnicity of the staff, compared to the ebulliantly friendly Istanbulli and Smyrnians, was due to the language barrier. Now we think it's more to do with having to constantly deal with Russians and Germans.

Splendid consolation

However, there are few things so fruitless as to wish one were elsewhere, nor so sterile as to be ungrateful for pleasant and exceedingly comfortable surroundings. There are plenty of reasons to love being here, one of the first being completely free of having to worry about -well, anything, really. 

 Food is plentiful, served five times a day and the kids are always excited to discover what's being served next. It's actually also a great way for the kids to try different foods ranging from Turkish to Mediterranean, and even standbys like fried potatoes and tomato soup are extra good. Drinks are included, which makes a10:30 gin and tonic seem almost sensible.

The ocean, though not considered warm by Mediteranean standards at 25 C, is still warm for Canadians and even on misty morning like this one, lovely and soothing to swim in. 

The pool is immaculate and the layout of the grounds such that even lying on the beach, you can see the kids going down the waterslide. And in the event that you're feeling just a little too indolent, the activity directors come around to let you know there will be aerobics, yoga, bocce or darts about to begin.

Our room  is breezy and comfortable, though perhaps a little worn and showing signs of a little knocking about, being a family room. But it is cool and comfortable and perfect to relax in while waiting for lunch to begin or in the evening after dinner.

Wifi, though available in the lobby only, is reliable and fast and the lobby itself is huge, with plenty of comfy chairs and loveseats. And it's just as well to be unchained from the ubiquitousness of the Internet, though I admit to being delighted at the ability to download a book onto my Kindle while lying on the beach.

Really it is a perfect place to relax and unwind, and just hang out with each other, and this itself makes it all worthwhile.

Antalya, not quite

I've been struggling to find a way to articulate what I feel here in the resort near Kadriye, east of Antalya, with its glorious beach on the Mediterranean ocean, vast palatial grounds, immaculately tended pools.

 Finally I can say this; I don't feel like I'm I'm Turkey, and I miss being in Turkey. I miss that morning call to prayer, wandering cobbled streets, the pretty countryside, the diverse and fascinating architecture. Instead, at this beach resort, it's a veritable pleasure garden of palm-lined paths, fountains, pools, loungers and umbrellas beside the stunning Mediterranean. Tim and the kids are in their glory and the kids are in the water from breakfast to dinner, moving from ocean to pool to waterslide with no apparant desire for anything else.

"Are you enjoying yourself Mom?" Theo asks. "or do you wish we were doing something historical?"
It's not so much the historical stuff I wish I was doing, I now realize, it's the feeling of being in Turkey - in another country - even the feeling of being surrounded by Turks - that I miss. 

 But it can't be denied that Tim and the kids are getting exactly what they hoped for from this holiday. Plenty of sun ( even this morning's rain shower is unlikely to last long), water, excellent food and drink, comfortable accomodation.

It's just that the gap between my idea of travel and theirs, which was already evident during trip planning, is made even more substantially manifest, and despite the sun and food and sheer pleasurable decadence of resort life, I'm a little sad about that.

But - in a larger version of being determined to enjoy the judo bus trip to Edmonton - I am determined to enjoy myself here too. And there is mudita - sympathetic joy - the pleasure in my family's pleasure.
That doesn't, however, stop me from trying to figure out how to get off this sybaritic island of hedonism and find my way back to Turkey.

Up the mountain, down the valley

Izmir made a handy jumping off point for day trips to Ephesus to the south and Pergamum to the north, two ancient cities in very different locations, one subject to the other.

The harbour city of Ephesus now lies inland due to the silting of the harbour and even Hadrian's assistance couldn't prevent its eventual decline. It is now very prettily situated in a valley and thronged with tourists who now replace the statesmen, citizens, priests and shopkeepers. 

A slightly peculiar sidetrip to Ephesus was a visit to Mary's house, said to be the place the Virgin Mary spent her last days, brought to Ephesus by St. John. The strangeness of this is offset by the spectacular views on the way to the chapel built over some very old house foundations; supposedly John didn't want her mixing with the pagans down in Ephesus, so he built her house on the nearby mountain. It's a very pretty spot. 

 Pergamum, perhaps because it's further away from the cruise ship port of Kusadaci, is much quieter, and in a way appropriately remote and regal, situated on a windswept mountain top. The views of the present day town of Bergama and valley below are magnificent, and as Bergama is built on the lowest of the four levels of ancient Pergamum, one can imagine the satisfaction of its rulers surveying their lands and the wealth they brought them.

 

 

We also went to the Asklepion, an ancient health centre catering to the likes of Hadrian, and the place where Galen, the physician who first advocated "fresh air and exercise" for health, practiced. Early symbol of medicine:

and the reception desk, seriously.

More pictures at the Flickr set here: Izmir, Ephesus, and Pergamum

Izmir

Smyrna's long, 7,000 year old history as a sea port seems very little in evidence, despite the ruins of Alexander the Great's fortress visible from our hotel room window (under the small red flag at the top of the hill)

The fortress is rather dwarfed by the sprawl of flat-topped houses spilling down the hill towards the sea, and at the water's edge modern Izmir seems dominated by glass, marble, and chrome, full of shiny wedding dress boutiques and electronic shops.

Similarly, our hotel, while clean and spacious, could just as easily be in Edmonton or Winnipeg. Yet that makes it a perfect place to rest and relax before the long day tours ahead of us, and we spent the hottest part of he afternoon just relaxing before going for a stroll to the Kordon, the seafront promenade.

Walking down the Gazi Bulvari (itself a rather pretty boulevard planted with maples) feels much like a street in downtown Vancouver, with more colour - street vendors selling bunches of roses and carnations. 

By the time we reached the seaside promenade we realized it was Mother's Day and full of families out for a Sunday evening picnic. Despite Izmir being a cruise ship terminal and a major tourism hub, on this particular evening everyone on the street seemed to be locals, families with young children, couples, groups of friends. We got to the Konak square with its late Ottoman clock tower and pretty little mosque, again surrounded by local families.

We called it a day quite early and went back to the hotel to rest up. This time we are letting the kids take a room of their own, which they actually requested. I'm not worried about their safety, but I do miss their company.

Off to the Aegean

We are actually a little sad to be leaving Istanbul - 4 days had seemed like plenty of time but in fact it's just enough time to get oriented and reset your body clock to local time. Then you feel like you can really start exploring. Still it was a good introduction to a truly ancient and fabled city and it leaves you wanting more.

I loved the area we stayed in, one of the smaller sidestreets in Sultanahmet. Close enough to everything that places were easy to get to, but just off the centre so that it was very quiet. Loved being able to have breakfast on a roof between two great monuments and overlooking the Marmara Sea, and thrilling to know that the entire slope was Justinian's palace grounds, running down to the sea walls. 

 Now we're heading south, leaving the relatively temperate city to the Aegean coast. It's going to start getting hot.

I did not notice this till Tim pointed it out but the steward spoke to him in English and attempted to speak to me in Turkish. The people here are extremely diverse in appearance - some look typically middle eastern, some oriental, some caucasian, and of course any conceivable blend between. Our guide the first day had an unexpected resemblance to Tim's dad, himself a dark Ukrainian about whom it was often joked had a bit of a Turkish look to him. But there is such a great diversity of appearance, that even without the ruins and archeological evidence of many conquering races, that evidence would remain in the faces of its population.