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.
Reading this a week late, but I get it. One the one hand, I do enjoy staying at Best Western-rated hotels and knowing that my basic Western hotel needs will be met, but then you plan to leave the hotel and actually experience the culture. One reason we've never been to a resort in Jamaica is that you're encouraged never to leave the resort lest you be confronted with crime and poverty. But then why go all that way if you're not going to experience the culture? We tend to keep our cultural vacations and our "lie on a beach and drink" vacations separate, although our trip to Barcelona last year did a pretty good job of combining the two.
ReplyDeleteSo... If I plan a trip abroad, ask you for tips and not my dad. Got it. (I like the nitty-gritty real culture over the fakey-touristy stuff, too.)
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