The Kaçkars get 250 rainy days a year, and this is one of them.
Activities for a rainy day:
- cooking
- playing Klondike on my iPod (just now discovered it)
- reading whatever books we can get our hands on
- chatting with the guy who works at the pansiyon
- blogging at the internet cafe
The reading material is getting to be rather slim pickings:
- Cosmopolis by Don DeLillo - too too pretentious
- Atonement by Ian McEwan (as seen in the movies)
- The good book (great for displaying prominantly on bedstand in Greece; not much mileage here)
- A biography of Abraham Lincoln
The heavens have opened and the rain is pouring down down down
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Ayder: Ekodanitap, Schmekodanitap
We walked in the tea-plantation hills above Ekodanitap for 4 hours in the morning. The road is surprisingly well paved for such a remote area. We saw two tea gathering stations.
Midway through our walk, a caravan of SUVs passed by, with stickers reading "Medraft" on the doors. Later, when one of the SUVs broke down, we talked to them. They were adventure tourists from Israel, startlingly incongruous in this setting. Not that we fit in any better. So, like tropical birds meeting in a pine forest, we flapped our garish wings and flew off in opposite directions.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Kaçkar Mountains; Çamlihemşin and Ayder
We are now in Ayder, a village inside the Kaçkar Mountain National Park. The narrow road is cut into the side of a steep grassy slope, and there are lodges and restaurants on either side. Cows are free to graze and their bells tinkle with each lumbering step. The blue-grey, snow-covered peaks beckon from a distance.
We stayed one night at the Serender Pansiyon, then moved over to Ecodanitap where we will be under the wing of Mehmet. Mehmet is an enterprising fellow who runs Turku Turizm, Ecodanitap, Fora Pansiyon, and more.
The Kackars are often compared to the Alps. For me it invokes Yosemite. Which is rather apropos, since I just picked up a copy of John Muir's "My First Summer in the Sierras." In it, he recounts his adventures accompanying a dour shepherd and 2500 head of "hoofed locust" to the summer pastures in the Sierras. There are many pages of romantic rapture at the mountain vistas and meticulate descriptions of trees. The original tree-hugger!
PARODY OF JOHN MUIR
"We are taking a flock of sheep up to their summer pastures in the Sierra. Today, we went up the hill, and I saw A TREE. <3> This was the best day of my life! Later, we rounded up the sheep and made camp. ... Today we went along a river, and I saw A FLOWER. <3> I could die right now and be happy. ... Today we ran out of bread and everyone was surly, but I saw A ROCK. <3> Oh the raptures of nature are unceasing. ... etc. etc. etc."
EKODANITAP
Ekodanitap is the latest brainchild of Mehmet. It is his headquarters for running his yayla (high-altitude summer pasture) tourism empire. It's situated on a hill with a patch of tea bushes in the middle (Camelia sinensis). At the bottom of the hill is the common area, with a kitchen, salon, restroom, and a porch. The salon and porch have a beautiful view of the Fırtına river and valley below. The chipboard outside is stamped "Canada, May 2007." In the corner of the salon is an iBook G4, which I am commandeering right now while Mehmet hangs with his peeps. Mehmet is Hemşin, and his extended family lives along the valley.
The four eco-huts are written up in Lonely Planet as being solar-powered, but really they're just connected to a solar water heater, which is pretty much standard-issue in Turkey and Greece. They are very nice little huts, brand-spanking new, with a double bed, bathroom, and mini-living room downstairs, and a ladder up to the loft where there are two single beds on either side of a plankwalk. Everything is plain pine, and you can see sunlight through the walls.
We were slated to go on a trekking tour with a Canadian couple, but inexplicably they changed their minds within the course of a dinner, apparently due to "foot problems." We haven't met them, so don't know the whole story. Now the plan is to hang out and do day hikes until a foursome arrives from Poland. Then we'll tag along on their trekking tour. Mehmet has kindly offered to waive the 5 person minimum for us two, but we are trying not to make him extra work if we can avoid it.
The Hemşin are ethnic Armenians who settled here in the highlands and intermarried with the Turks. The lowlands are predominantly Las people. Mehmet and his wife Kader made us a delicious Hemşin lunch. There was mahlama, a fondue of cheese, eggs, milk, flour, and butter, kısır, which is like a tabouleh but with green onions, tomatoes and chili paste, and a yogurt salad that was like a tzatziki but with dill and small-leaved greens. There was also makarna, which is basically macaroni in a tomato sauce, and sekerli makarna, which is macaroni in a sugary syrup! This was a very nice change from the typical lokanta fare.
Mehmet and Kader have a four-year-old son, Daglar ("mountains"), who loves to play with guns. He'll point his toy gun right at your face or jam it into the flesh of your arm and press the trigger for that satisfying click. I think he will do well in his askerlik (mandatory 15 month military service.)
I like to ask the young men about their askerlik, where they served, what they did, etc. One young man, Ali, had some English skills and was stationed at Antalya outside the officers' resort. This is what he said to trespassing tourists: "I'm very sorry. This is a military area. Tourists are not allowed."
I got some comments on the blog from Robert, an American who is also travelling in Turkey. He and his wife have taken a flat in Istanbul for a month. It is delightful to hear from a kindred spirit!
Early in the trip, I was browsing in a bookstore and saw some lovely children's books by Mevlana Idris. They had titles likes "The man who was losing his hair", "The man who gave away money," etc. I picked up a 10-book set and carried them around to give as gifts, since there are always kids running around. I think they appreciate the gesture. To really send the kids into apoplectic fits though, I simply read from the books in my terrible Turkish.
New friends in Çosandere!
In the morning, we set out to visit Sumela Monastery. In the lobby of Maçkam hotel, we ran into Bahri, a tall, trim, kind, and courtly gentleman. He spoke enough English for us to communicate, and we arranged for him to chauffeur us to the Monastery. The road took us up the valley, with steep slopes of granite on either side (Note: the identity of any flora, fauna, and geologica in this blog are unscientifically established and to be qualified by an unspoken "well, that's what it looked like to me") and the trout-filled stream that rushed impetuously alongside. Once in the clear mountain air, we decided to spend the whole day there and managed with gestures, scribbles, and broken phrases to let Bahri know that he didn't have to wait for us.
The Monastery is most impressive from a distance, where it seems to cling to a sheer rockface. Once inside the courtyard, it appears quite cozy, with dormitories, a library, and a fresco-covered cave church. Much of the structure is off-limits, though, and we did not spend more than an hour there. We clambered down the steep footpath to the hotel at the parking lot, and continued along the road back toward Maçka town. It was a beautiful day, with the sun playing peekaboo behind cooling clouds, and a stiff breeze coming up the valley. We walked on the road along the stream for 12 km, all downhill, and just when my stomach was getting grumbly, came upon a fish restaurant.
We ordered fresh trout and salad and sat back to enjoy our streamside perch, especially the burbling bass notes.
This was where we met Ramazan, a most engaging young man with twinkly blue eyes and a sunny smile. After he brought us our food, we started in conversation, and then he asked us to stay a night with his family. We were delighted and agreed to come the next day.
The evening we spent with Ramazan and his extended family was the highlight of our trip.
... to be continued
The Monastery is most impressive from a distance, where it seems to cling to a sheer rockface. Once inside the courtyard, it appears quite cozy, with dormitories, a library, and a fresco-covered cave church. Much of the structure is off-limits, though, and we did not spend more than an hour there. We clambered down the steep footpath to the hotel at the parking lot, and continued along the road back toward Maçka town. It was a beautiful day, with the sun playing peekaboo behind cooling clouds, and a stiff breeze coming up the valley. We walked on the road along the stream for 12 km, all downhill, and just when my stomach was getting grumbly, came upon a fish restaurant.
We ordered fresh trout and salad and sat back to enjoy our streamside perch, especially the burbling bass notes.
This was where we met Ramazan, a most engaging young man with twinkly blue eyes and a sunny smile. After he brought us our food, we started in conversation, and then he asked us to stay a night with his family. We were delighted and agreed to come the next day.
The evening we spent with Ramazan and his extended family was the highlight of our trip.
... to be continued
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Trabzon: The sea, the sea
We flew into Trabzon last night and are now in Sumela. We visited the Sumela Monastery this morning. We rented a car and are now mobile!
The Black Sea Coast is a lot like Northern California. The evil orb no longer pummels us with invisible rays.
We stopped at a restaurant in Cosandere and had fresh trout. We met a young Turk named Ramazan who was so excited to practise his English he invited us to stay at his home for tomorrow.
Jim just got a haircut and shave and is smooth-cheeked and happy!
The Black Sea Coast is a lot like Northern California. The evil orb no longer pummels us with invisible rays.
We stopped at a restaurant in Cosandere and had fresh trout. We met a young Turk named Ramazan who was so excited to practise his English he invited us to stay at his home for tomorrow.
Jim just got a haircut and shave and is smooth-cheeked and happy!
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Antakya: Holding pattern; movies
We're still in Antakya, in the holding pattern until we get to Trabzon and then the Kackar Mountains.
I'm in a bit of a mid-trip slump.
I just finished reading the Poisonwood Bible. It was intense and absorbing, especially the description of the unrelenting struggle for survival in the Belgian Congo, and the family dynamics of a mother and four daughters held hostage by their raving lunatic of a patriarch, a Baptist preacher. A beautiful, tragic, moving story.
Now I have "My Antonia" and "The Sound and the Fury" lined up. I had no idea Faulkner wrote in stream-of-consciousness, which makes reading feel like work. Well, at least it's shorter than James Joyce's Ulysses.
We watched a movie on TV last night that was in Cantonese with Turkish subtitles. It was kung-fu slapstick and spaghetti western called "Kung-Fu Hustler." Absolutely hilarious. It's set in a village whose leader is a sturdy, no-nonsense matron who periodically goes out into the square to chew everybody out, clad in a billowy white peignoir and hair rollers, with a cigarette dangling from her mouth, and a permanent scowl. She also has amazing kung-fu and her specialty is the lion roar, which blasts everything in sight. Due to a trivial provocation, the village comes under attack by a group of fedora-wearing, hatchet-swinging bad guys. The villagers would cringe and hide until they are pushed to the brink, then one of them would finally step up and reveal his or her kick-ass moves and crush the opposition. This happens several times, with the mafia types hiring increasingly lethal assasins, including a pair of blind zither-players and a guy in underwear and slippers from the insane asylum. Meanwhile, the lead bad guy gets over a humiliating childhood episode, finds the goodness in his soul, fights for the village, gets the girl, and opens a candy store.
Great movie, but now I wonder how many of these movies the Turks have been watching and if that's their primary mental association when they gawk at me walking in the park. I just might have to startle someone by breaking into a flamingo stance with a Bruce Lee chicken-squawk.
The TV selection consists of Turkish programs (news and drama), plus two channels of American movies and dramas (TNT and NBC), an Arabic channel (MBC), and random movies in German and last night, Cantonese. There's a channel that shows nature programs with no sound. And of course, all UEFA futbol matches are faithfully broadcast live with pre- and post-game analyses.
Last night, I also caught the latest episode of Desperate Housewives, which made me *very* happy. It was the first time Jim's watched it, and his summary is "a show with multiple, very easy to follow, obvious storylines." Also I watched Smallville for the first time.
Jim has never seen the original Christopher Reeves Superman movie! By golly, it's like he grew up on Mars!
I'm in a bit of a mid-trip slump.
I just finished reading the Poisonwood Bible. It was intense and absorbing, especially the description of the unrelenting struggle for survival in the Belgian Congo, and the family dynamics of a mother and four daughters held hostage by their raving lunatic of a patriarch, a Baptist preacher. A beautiful, tragic, moving story.
Now I have "My Antonia" and "The Sound and the Fury" lined up. I had no idea Faulkner wrote in stream-of-consciousness, which makes reading feel like work. Well, at least it's shorter than James Joyce's Ulysses.
We watched a movie on TV last night that was in Cantonese with Turkish subtitles. It was kung-fu slapstick and spaghetti western called "Kung-Fu Hustler." Absolutely hilarious. It's set in a village whose leader is a sturdy, no-nonsense matron who periodically goes out into the square to chew everybody out, clad in a billowy white peignoir and hair rollers, with a cigarette dangling from her mouth, and a permanent scowl. She also has amazing kung-fu and her specialty is the lion roar, which blasts everything in sight. Due to a trivial provocation, the village comes under attack by a group of fedora-wearing, hatchet-swinging bad guys. The villagers would cringe and hide until they are pushed to the brink, then one of them would finally step up and reveal his or her kick-ass moves and crush the opposition. This happens several times, with the mafia types hiring increasingly lethal assasins, including a pair of blind zither-players and a guy in underwear and slippers from the insane asylum. Meanwhile, the lead bad guy gets over a humiliating childhood episode, finds the goodness in his soul, fights for the village, gets the girl, and opens a candy store.
Great movie, but now I wonder how many of these movies the Turks have been watching and if that's their primary mental association when they gawk at me walking in the park. I just might have to startle someone by breaking into a flamingo stance with a Bruce Lee chicken-squawk.
The TV selection consists of Turkish programs (news and drama), plus two channels of American movies and dramas (TNT and NBC), an Arabic channel (MBC), and random movies in German and last night, Cantonese. There's a channel that shows nature programs with no sound. And of course, all UEFA futbol matches are faithfully broadcast live with pre- and post-game analyses.
Last night, I also caught the latest episode of Desperate Housewives, which made me *very* happy. It was the first time Jim's watched it, and his summary is "a show with multiple, very easy to follow, obvious storylines." Also I watched Smallville for the first time.
Jim has never seen the original Christopher Reeves Superman movie! By golly, it's like he grew up on Mars!
Saturday, June 21, 2008
The plan
We have a plan! Monday we fly to Trabzon, where I can shout "thalassa, thalassa" in echo of the 10,000 led by Xenophon as recounted in the Anabasis. A day trip to Sumela Monastery follows. Coincidentally, the monastery was featured in a book we picked up at the pension in Rhodes. "The Testament" by Eric van Lustbader (can it be a real name?) is a "Da Vinci Code" copycat thriller that is so bad it was good.
After Sumela, we'll be off to Ayder in the Kackar Mountain National Park. Both of us are done with zipping around so we'll be there for at least a week. This makes our trip a "Four Corners" tour of Turkey.
After Sumela, we'll be off to Ayder in the Kackar Mountain National Park. Both of us are done with zipping around so we'll be there for at least a week. This makes our trip a "Four Corners" tour of Turkey.
Turkey advances to semifinals
Last night, Turkey played Croatia to see who would advance to the UEFA semifinals.
Turkey played well but Croatia a bit better, yet the score stayed at 0-0. The game went into second overtime.
As the excitement mounted, wedding guests in crisp suits and sparkling cocktail dresses from a party on the mezzanine filtered into the lobby of the Büyük Antakya Hotel.
With ten minutes to go in second overtime, Croatia scored a goal. The crowd held its breath and leaned toward the flat screen TV. With ten seconds to go, Turkey scored to tie at 1-1. The crowd leaps up with a holler. The game would now be decided by shootout.
Turkey wins the shootout. On the screen, the Croatian players are kneeling, clutching their heads, in tears. Jim's new friend leans over and says, "now everybody will go out into the street."
People stream out from every hotel, restaurant, shop, apartment block waving flags and singing. They clump around a few epicenters, of which our hotel appears to be the largest. Within minutes a master of ceremonies appears on the terrace to lead the chants. To me it sounds like " blablabla... TURKIYE, blablabla... TURKIYE." Between chanting, techno-Turk disco music booms. In the throng, instruments of jubilation appear out of nowhere - bass drums, tom toms, bongos, a trumpet, fireworks. And of course, flags everywhere - a sea of red. Our new host hands us sparklers and offers us tea.
After an hour or so of chanting and singing and dancing, the parade begins to form. Everyone know what to do. The vehicles ply a well worn track around downtown Antakya. There are motorcycles, cars, and trucks. Celebrators lean out of windows and sunroofs; horns are blaring. This goes on until 3am.
Turkey played well but Croatia a bit better, yet the score stayed at 0-0. The game went into second overtime.
As the excitement mounted, wedding guests in crisp suits and sparkling cocktail dresses from a party on the mezzanine filtered into the lobby of the Büyük Antakya Hotel.
With ten minutes to go in second overtime, Croatia scored a goal. The crowd held its breath and leaned toward the flat screen TV. With ten seconds to go, Turkey scored to tie at 1-1. The crowd leaps up with a holler. The game would now be decided by shootout.
Turkey wins the shootout. On the screen, the Croatian players are kneeling, clutching their heads, in tears. Jim's new friend leans over and says, "now everybody will go out into the street."
People stream out from every hotel, restaurant, shop, apartment block waving flags and singing. They clump around a few epicenters, of which our hotel appears to be the largest. Within minutes a master of ceremonies appears on the terrace to lead the chants. To me it sounds like " blablabla... TURKIYE, blablabla... TURKIYE." Between chanting, techno-Turk disco music booms. In the throng, instruments of jubilation appear out of nowhere - bass drums, tom toms, bongos, a trumpet, fireworks. And of course, flags everywhere - a sea of red. Our new host hands us sparklers and offers us tea.
After an hour or so of chanting and singing and dancing, the parade begins to form. Everyone know what to do. The vehicles ply a well worn track around downtown Antakya. There are motorcycles, cars, and trucks. Celebrators lean out of windows and sunroofs; horns are blaring. This goes on until 3am.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Turkish language
FUN WITH TURKISH
One nice thing about the Turkish language is that spelling is completely phonetic - what you see is what you get. Especially fun is the precise parsimony of Turkish when adopting foreign words, to wit:
feribot
motoryat
tren
makyaj (from French: maquillage = make-up)
mayo (from French: maillot = swimsuit)
Another nice thing about Turkish, if you're into Scrabble, is that it's full of two-letter words, for example:
ev - house
iş - work
eş - spouse
en - most
on - ten
at - horse
ve - and
iç - inside
USEFUL TIPS
When I'm offered tea for the 10th time today, and I've already had 20 cups, the most effective deflector I've found is:
"yok yok, sağ ol".
By the way, shortening sağ olun to sağ ol subtly signals that a not unsubstantial period of time has transpired since one had gotten off the boat.
MONEY TALK
The Turkish Lira was replaced with the New Turkish Lira (Yeni Türk Lira, or YTL) a few years ago. Storekeepers will often quote prices in old lira, so that 1 YTL is bir milyon and 2.50 YTL is iki milyon beş yüz. To discuss prices in new lira, YTL is pronounced "yeh-teh-leh."
MORE USEFUL WORDS
next week: gelecek hafta
this week: gerede hafta
last week: geçen hafta
GEZMEK? EKMEK!
We pick up a good number of hitchhikers while driving the rental car. The conversation is usually short, mostly to establish where one is going, where one is from, and so on. One farmer continued by asking "gezmek?" Since my dictionary was in the trunk, I could only smile and shrug. Jim was undeterred, and countered with the favorite word in his limited armamentarium: "gezmek? Ekmek!" This was delivered with a big grin and while pointing to the loaf of bread in the back seat.
Later we looked it up, and learned that gezmek means to tour or wander about. This proved to be a useful word with which to greet the natives while poking around their backyards.
One nice thing about the Turkish language is that spelling is completely phonetic - what you see is what you get. Especially fun is the precise parsimony of Turkish when adopting foreign words, to wit:
feribot
motoryat
tren
makyaj (from French: maquillage = make-up)
mayo (from French: maillot = swimsuit)
Another nice thing about Turkish, if you're into Scrabble, is that it's full of two-letter words, for example:
ev - house
iş - work
eş - spouse
en - most
on - ten
at - horse
ve - and
iç - inside
USEFUL TIPS
When I'm offered tea for the 10th time today, and I've already had 20 cups, the most effective deflector I've found is:
"yok yok, sağ ol".
By the way, shortening sağ olun to sağ ol subtly signals that a not unsubstantial period of time has transpired since one had gotten off the boat.
MONEY TALK
The Turkish Lira was replaced with the New Turkish Lira (Yeni Türk Lira, or YTL) a few years ago. Storekeepers will often quote prices in old lira, so that 1 YTL is bir milyon and 2.50 YTL is iki milyon beş yüz. To discuss prices in new lira, YTL is pronounced "yeh-teh-leh."
MORE USEFUL WORDS
next week: gelecek hafta
this week: gerede hafta
last week: geçen hafta
GEZMEK? EKMEK!
We pick up a good number of hitchhikers while driving the rental car. The conversation is usually short, mostly to establish where one is going, where one is from, and so on. One farmer continued by asking "gezmek?" Since my dictionary was in the trunk, I could only smile and shrug. Jim was undeterred, and countered with the favorite word in his limited armamentarium: "gezmek? Ekmek!" This was delivered with a big grin and while pointing to the loaf of bread in the back seat.
Later we looked it up, and learned that gezmek means to tour or wander about. This proved to be a useful word with which to greet the natives while poking around their backyards.
Day whatever: Antakya
OK, I'm stopping this day-counting nonsense. From now on we are carried on the wings of the wind.
From Rhodes we hit the road and went all the way to Eastern Turkey. The exact route will be kept inside the sausage. We are now in Antakya. The city was known as Seleucia-on-Orontes to the Romans, and the region was Cilicia. Jim wanted to see how things change as one gets closer to the Syrian border. So far, it's still well drenched in the glaze of relentless Turkish modernization that is thickly spread throughout the land. We hear that the coastal town of Samandag might be different.
My new read is "The Poisonwood Bible" by Barbara Kingsolver. It's about the family of a Baptist preacher who were carried along with him and the almighty word of God to postcolonial Congo.
In Adana and in Antakya there are few tourists around. Here one doesn't feel like chum thrown to the sharks, like in Sultanahmet, Fira or Rhodes. When we ask for directions, they walk with us there. It feels nice to be a guppy again, swimming amongst friendly fins.
Rhodes was interesting - lots of Crusader history from the Knights of St. John. It's a well-maintained medieval walled (and moated!) city with a labyrinth of cobbled and arched alleys. Much fun was had getting lost and then coming upon a familiar vista.
The game is 0-0 at 46 minutes. All business is ceased and people are gathered around widescreens. Time to go find Jim.
From Rhodes we hit the road and went all the way to Eastern Turkey. The exact route will be kept inside the sausage. We are now in Antakya. The city was known as Seleucia-on-Orontes to the Romans, and the region was Cilicia. Jim wanted to see how things change as one gets closer to the Syrian border. So far, it's still well drenched in the glaze of relentless Turkish modernization that is thickly spread throughout the land. We hear that the coastal town of Samandag might be different.
My new read is "The Poisonwood Bible" by Barbara Kingsolver. It's about the family of a Baptist preacher who were carried along with him and the almighty word of God to postcolonial Congo.
In Adana and in Antakya there are few tourists around. Here one doesn't feel like chum thrown to the sharks, like in Sultanahmet, Fira or Rhodes. When we ask for directions, they walk with us there. It feels nice to be a guppy again, swimming amongst friendly fins.
Rhodes was interesting - lots of Crusader history from the Knights of St. John. It's a well-maintained medieval walled (and moated!) city with a labyrinth of cobbled and arched alleys. Much fun was had getting lost and then coming upon a familiar vista.
The game is 0-0 at 46 minutes. All business is ceased and people are gathered around widescreens. Time to go find Jim.
Monday, June 16, 2008
UEFA 2008
The UEFA 2008 soccer tournament is in full swing. It explainly in part why there aren't as many visitors here right now as in the past few years. Jim studies the sports pages and watches the key games. He chats to tavernkeepers about points and brackets, which teams play rough, and which goalkeepers are playing well. Last night, Turkey mounted an impressive comeback against Czechoslovakia and scored 3 goals in the last 20 minutes.
The plan as it stands now is to take a seaplane to Rhodes, then a ferry to the tiny island of Kastelorizo (where the movie Mediterraneo was filmed), another ferry to Kas in Turkey, then either overland or by sea to Antalya.
If you're reading this and would like a postcard, email your address to me at lutheroglu@thusly.com!
The plan as it stands now is to take a seaplane to Rhodes, then a ferry to the tiny island of Kastelorizo (where the movie Mediterraneo was filmed), another ferry to Kas in Turkey, then either overland or by sea to Antalya.
If you're reading this and would like a postcard, email your address to me at lutheroglu@thusly.com!
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Guidebook Miscellanea
A few notes to pass onto Lonely Planet:
FERRIES
In Istanbul, the ferry boat to the Prince's Islands (Adalar) now leave from a completely different dock.
To get from Bergama to Mitilini by ferry, there are now departures from Dikili as well as Ayvalik. The bus ride to Dikili is faster, the ferry boat is larger, and the fare is lower. However, Ayvalik is a prettier town and the ferry boat wends through an enchanting maze of islands on the way out. Jale Tours is the owner-operator of the Ayvalik ferry. The ferry from Dikili is the Constantinos.
Greek inter-island ferries have a very quick turnover at intermediate island stops. The boat barely kisses the dock and is off again in minutes. One has to be ready and waiting with bags in hand to jump off the boat. Not knowing this on our first passage, we almost missed our stop in Tinos and would have gone straight on to Piraeus.
SANTORINI
In Santorini, the calderimi (donkey trail between Oia and Fira) can be picked up from the Desalination Plant in Oia, or from Nomikos Convention Center in Fira.
There is no way to walk from Ammoudi to Armeni, and Armeni is a dock, not a beach.
KTEL Buses from Fira to Oia are reliable, but those to smaller towns like Perissa are not.
There's a walking trail from Perissa and Kamari to Ancient Thira, and thence to Profitis Ilias. There's a separate road for driving from Kamari to Ancient Thira. To walk up from Kamari, go up the cobblestone car road to the first hairpin turn. There's a car park and a hotel there, where the walking trail starts. Although the map shows one, we could not find a walking trail from Profitis Ilias down to Pyrgos.
IZMIR
To transfer from bus to plane in Izmir, take the bus to the Yeni Garaj (new otogar northeast of town), and get on the bus company's servis (free shuttle) to Gaziemir. It took us 50 minutes to reach Gaziemir. From there, it's a 5 minute cab ride (10 YTL) to the airport.
N-STAR HOTELS
A 4 star hotel in an outlying city such as Adana or Antakya is more or less equivalent to a 2 star hotel in Istanbul.
MUZEKART
There is something called the Muzekart which for 20 YTL will grant admission to museums and sites across Turkey. The website is http://www.muzekart.com. It's too late for us to get one, but it might work out well for somebody else since each museum usually costs 5-10 YTL.\
AIRPORT SHUTTLES
Many travel agencies that sell airline tickets also operate airport shuttles that aren't advertised anywhere. This can cut down travel time considerably, since one doesn't have to take a bus to the otogar or city center, then transfer to an airport dolmus. For example, we caught a shuttle for a flight departing from Adana from a travel agent in Antakya.
TURKISH LANGUAGE: see post on Turkish language, especially about the yetele
FERRIES
In Istanbul, the ferry boat to the Prince's Islands (Adalar) now leave from a completely different dock.
To get from Bergama to Mitilini by ferry, there are now departures from Dikili as well as Ayvalik. The bus ride to Dikili is faster, the ferry boat is larger, and the fare is lower. However, Ayvalik is a prettier town and the ferry boat wends through an enchanting maze of islands on the way out. Jale Tours is the owner-operator of the Ayvalik ferry. The ferry from Dikili is the Constantinos.
Greek inter-island ferries have a very quick turnover at intermediate island stops. The boat barely kisses the dock and is off again in minutes. One has to be ready and waiting with bags in hand to jump off the boat. Not knowing this on our first passage, we almost missed our stop in Tinos and would have gone straight on to Piraeus.
SANTORINI
In Santorini, the calderimi (donkey trail between Oia and Fira) can be picked up from the Desalination Plant in Oia, or from Nomikos Convention Center in Fira.
There is no way to walk from Ammoudi to Armeni, and Armeni is a dock, not a beach.
KTEL Buses from Fira to Oia are reliable, but those to smaller towns like Perissa are not.
There's a walking trail from Perissa and Kamari to Ancient Thira, and thence to Profitis Ilias. There's a separate road for driving from Kamari to Ancient Thira. To walk up from Kamari, go up the cobblestone car road to the first hairpin turn. There's a car park and a hotel there, where the walking trail starts. Although the map shows one, we could not find a walking trail from Profitis Ilias down to Pyrgos.
IZMIR
To transfer from bus to plane in Izmir, take the bus to the Yeni Garaj (new otogar northeast of town), and get on the bus company's servis (free shuttle) to Gaziemir. It took us 50 minutes to reach Gaziemir. From there, it's a 5 minute cab ride (10 YTL) to the airport.
N-STAR HOTELS
A 4 star hotel in an outlying city such as Adana or Antakya is more or less equivalent to a 2 star hotel in Istanbul.
MUZEKART
There is something called the Muzekart which for 20 YTL will grant admission to museums and sites across Turkey. The website is http://www.muzekart.com. It's too late for us to get one, but it might work out well for somebody else since each museum usually costs 5-10 YTL.\
AIRPORT SHUTTLES
Many travel agencies that sell airline tickets also operate airport shuttles that aren't advertised anywhere. This can cut down travel time considerably, since one doesn't have to take a bus to the otogar or city center, then transfer to an airport dolmus. For example, we caught a shuttle for a flight departing from Adana from a travel agent in Antakya.
TURKISH LANGUAGE: see post on Turkish language, especially about the yetele
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Day 27-35: Santorini
JOURNEY TO SANTORINI
A fast catamaran takes us to Paros, where we board the ferry to Santorini. This is the most tourists we've seen since Istanbul. There are people from Dutch, French, Norwegian, English. One Dutch couple waiting at the dock had sturdy hiking boots and Coolmax socks, and outfits straight from the REI or perhaps the Travelsmith catalog. Another Norwegian couple had freshly scrubbed cheeks and the insouciance of youth. A perfect place for people-watching. Jim is delighted to find the beer on the ferry served in heavily frosted glass steins.
Santorini is breathtaking. I think we will stay at least a week.
Update: Just booked tickets on Sky Express to fly to Rhodes on 6/17/08.
Santorini is breathtaking. I think we will stay at least a week.
Update: Just booked tickets on Sky Express to fly to Rhodes on 6/17/08.
FINIKIA
We're staying in Finikia, a small village nestled against the slopes just on the other side of the ridge from the caldera. The guesthouse is reached by a labyrinth of cobblestone paths, where the enterprising Giorgis has painted blue arrows to point the way. After he led us to our rooms, he said he will take the donkey to get the luggage which remained in the van in the parking lot. An Australian couple from Sydney thought he was jokingly referring to his wife.
In the mornings we wake up to a view of the village and the sea. Finikia is still, as Giorgis likes to emphasize, very "traditionale," and in the stillness of the morning we hear only the bird, the breeze, and occasionally the donkey.
READING
Both Jim and I have now finished Frank McCourt's "Angela's Ashes," a tragicomic memoir of a poor, Irish, Catholic childhood. The passages with the schoolmaster and at the confessional are priceless.
I was unable to find a free book exchange here, so at the bookstore I pick out a hefty book - Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. I can see how this book can launch a thousand essay assignments. In the way that I first heard Purple Haze performed by the Kronos Quartet and only later followed the ripples back to Jimi Hendrix in the center, so I now see that I've been encountering ripples, some secondary or tertiary, emanating from this weighty tome.
Now I just have to meet some Irishmen or Russians on whom to project all this new understanding of their national psyche.
Day 26: Tinos
An early morning ferry takes us from the to the Cycladic island of Tinos by way of Chios. As we neared the island, I ask the young man next to me which island it was. He replied in hesitant English, "That's Tinos, the island of the Mother of Jesus."
We stay the night at Hotel Eliana, four stories of thoroughly scrubbed, old-time dignity. The three generations that help in the operation have all mastered one phrase in English -- "Thank you very much" -- which is used to begin and end every conversation.
We wander up to the church. At a clothing emporium there is a young man from Shanghai. In Mandarin he tells me that he's been in Greece for five years, and in Tinos for three. There are two Chinese families on the island, a total of five or six people. He seems glad of the conversation.
Back to the hotel to rest up for the journey to Santorini.
We stay the night at Hotel Eliana, four stories of thoroughly scrubbed, old-time dignity. The three generations that help in the operation have all mastered one phrase in English -- "Thank you very much" -- which is used to begin and end every conversation.
We wander up to the church. At a clothing emporium there is a young man from Shanghai. In Mandarin he tells me that he's been in Greece for five years, and in Tinos for three. There are two Chinese families on the island, a total of five or six people. He seems glad of the conversation.
Back to the hotel to rest up for the journey to Santorini.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Day 25: Mytilene
We're in Mytilene tonight, in preparation for a 7am ferry (Nissos Chios of Hellenic Seaways) to Tinos. In the heat of the afternoon, what better refuge than the Archeological Museum? On the island of Lesvos and the port of Mytilene one can find an architectural pentimento of a succession of cultures, including Neolithic, Aeolian, Greek, Hellenistic, Roman, Genoese, Ottoman. The giant layer cake of history, yum.
We're staying in a modest rent-room above a lawyer's office. The lawyer is also the landlord, when he's not annotating passages in dogeared texts. It's perverse of me, I know, to continue to use the term "rent-room" from Crete (land of the Clytemnestra Rent-Room, irony not intended) although the rooms on Lesvos are actually signalled as "Domatia, Rooms to Let."
Wednesday night in Skala Eressou we went to the Sappho Garden of the Arts (http://www.sapphogarden.net/) for a musical evening with a Lynette Frances, a UK chanteuse. Jim was the singular token male in the audience. It started with a few of her own works sung to guitar with loop pedal, but then evolved into covers, sing-alongs, and eventually karaoke. Many of the women in the audience live in Skala, and they seem to know each other very well. It was nice to see them at ease and enjoying themselves in a garden of their own.
We made contact with an animal sanctuary in Skala Eressou (http://eresosforanimals.com/) run by Ann, an English expatriate. I floated the idea of coming back next year to do spays and neuters, and it was enthusiastically received.
The plan is to take the ferry to Tinos (with a stopover in Chios to take on passengers), then work our way to Santorini. From there, a seaplane flies to Rhodes, and we can make a ferry crossing to Marmaris. There is a religious event on Tinos, for which the ferry is making a special passage, but I haven't found out what it is yet. Even the agent at Avis really wanted to go, but she has a 20 month old baby that wouldn't do well on a 8 hour boat ride.
In Modern Greek, truck transport is called "Metaphoriki". As we drive around the island I keep being surprised anew by yet another metaphor flying past. Greek is fun that way -- pet food is called trophozoos.
When I look at the shimmering silver-green caparison of olive trees on the hills, I think of Greek mythology and history - Athena, Daphne, and sometimes Thucydides. Jim tells me that they evoke in him ruminations on EU agricultural policy.
We found a treasure trove of trashy paperbacks in the rent-room in Skala. Between beach, books, and baklava, I'm in heaven.
We're staying in a modest rent-room above a lawyer's office. The lawyer is also the landlord, when he's not annotating passages in dogeared texts. It's perverse of me, I know, to continue to use the term "rent-room" from Crete (land of the Clytemnestra Rent-Room, irony not intended) although the rooms on Lesvos are actually signalled as "Domatia, Rooms to Let."
Wednesday night in Skala Eressou we went to the Sappho Garden of the Arts (http://www.sapphogarden.net/) for a musical evening with a Lynette Frances, a UK chanteuse. Jim was the singular token male in the audience. It started with a few of her own works sung to guitar with loop pedal, but then evolved into covers, sing-alongs, and eventually karaoke. Many of the women in the audience live in Skala, and they seem to know each other very well. It was nice to see them at ease and enjoying themselves in a garden of their own.
We made contact with an animal sanctuary in Skala Eressou (http://eresosforanimals.com/) run by Ann, an English expatriate. I floated the idea of coming back next year to do spays and neuters, and it was enthusiastically received.
The plan is to take the ferry to Tinos (with a stopover in Chios to take on passengers), then work our way to Santorini. From there, a seaplane flies to Rhodes, and we can make a ferry crossing to Marmaris. There is a religious event on Tinos, for which the ferry is making a special passage, but I haven't found out what it is yet. Even the agent at Avis really wanted to go, but she has a 20 month old baby that wouldn't do well on a 8 hour boat ride.
In Modern Greek, truck transport is called "Metaphoriki". As we drive around the island I keep being surprised anew by yet another metaphor flying past. Greek is fun that way -- pet food is called trophozoos.
When I look at the shimmering silver-green caparison of olive trees on the hills, I think of Greek mythology and history - Athena, Daphne, and sometimes Thucydides. Jim tells me that they evoke in him ruminations on EU agricultural policy.
We found a treasure trove of trashy paperbacks in the rent-room in Skala. Between beach, books, and baklava, I'm in heaven.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Day 21-24: Skala Eressou
And here we are at last, the erstwhile stomping grounds of Greek poet Sappho and her circle of friends, and the modern playground, according to the guidebook, of the lesbian internationale. Feminism is in the air, and I soak it up gladly.
Skala Eressou is a special place, and I would gladly return. Right now, just coming out of low season, it has just the right number of visitors to be vibrant and to support all the amenities, without the crush of high season. Skala Eressou is a mellow blend of English animal lovers, German sunseekers, expatriate artists, and the friendly locals who feed and house them with patience and cheer. There is sun, sand, history, and camaraderie.
We take a day and visit the Petrified Forest Museum in Sigri, a sleepy fishing village with the ruins of a Turkish castle. We also visit the associated "Geopark" a few kilometers away (another shiny EU project). There are proto-sequioas from a few million years ago. I get to clamber, learn something, and then sit down to a hot chocolate and pastry all in the same day.
From Lesvos you can see the Turkish coast. Apart from the Turkish fortresses at strategic points, there are vestiges of the cultural interchange from decades ago. Backgammon (tabli in Turkish, tavli in Greek) is avidly played on both sides of the straits and can be found in just about any cafe. The popular Turkish dish imam bayildi (literally, "the imam fainted", it was that good) is known simply as imam here in Greece. Both Turkish and Greek coffee have the same thick sludge at the bottom.
We will stay here until June 6th, then head back to Mitilini to catch a ferry for Tinos on June 7th. We were lucky to book this passage, which is a special voyage for pilgrims.
Skala Eressou is a special place, and I would gladly return. Right now, just coming out of low season, it has just the right number of visitors to be vibrant and to support all the amenities, without the crush of high season. Skala Eressou is a mellow blend of English animal lovers, German sunseekers, expatriate artists, and the friendly locals who feed and house them with patience and cheer. There is sun, sand, history, and camaraderie.
We take a day and visit the Petrified Forest Museum in Sigri, a sleepy fishing village with the ruins of a Turkish castle. We also visit the associated "Geopark" a few kilometers away (another shiny EU project). There are proto-sequioas from a few million years ago. I get to clamber, learn something, and then sit down to a hot chocolate and pastry all in the same day.
From Lesvos you can see the Turkish coast. Apart from the Turkish fortresses at strategic points, there are vestiges of the cultural interchange from decades ago. Backgammon (tabli in Turkish, tavli in Greek) is avidly played on both sides of the straits and can be found in just about any cafe. The popular Turkish dish imam bayildi (literally, "the imam fainted", it was that good) is known simply as imam here in Greece. Both Turkish and Greek coffee have the same thick sludge at the bottom.
We will stay here until June 6th, then head back to Mitilini to catch a ferry for Tinos on June 7th. We were lucky to book this passage, which is a special voyage for pilgrims.
Day 19-21: Tavari
Tavari is on the west side of the island. The landscape is more rugged here, as a result of a long-ago volcanic outburst that coated the hills in andesite. There are a few olive trees, but not the lush carpet of the east side.
Olive production - its social, economic, cultural, and political context -is meticulously documented in the new Museum of Olive Oil Production in Agia Paraskevos. The exhibits and brochures come with a whopping dollop of buzzwords as befits a EU project. The story is really quite heartwarming - the community banded together in the 20's to build a cooperative olive oil press. Donations came from the Greek diaspora in all corners of the globe. Farmers rolled up their sleeves. The olive oil press, a gleaming monster of flashing steel and puffing steam, was a success and the proceeds were used for schools and other community projects.
Tavari is serviceable, but not the jewel that Tarti was. However, the two delightful ladies at the rent-room could not have been nicer. They feted us with fresh garden produce and homemade sweets.
Olive production - its social, economic, cultural, and political context -is meticulously documented in the new Museum of Olive Oil Production in Agia Paraskevos. The exhibits and brochures come with a whopping dollop of buzzwords as befits a EU project. The story is really quite heartwarming - the community banded together in the 20's to build a cooperative olive oil press. Donations came from the Greek diaspora in all corners of the globe. Farmers rolled up their sleeves. The olive oil press, a gleaming monster of flashing steel and puffing steam, was a success and the proceeds were used for schools and other community projects.
Tavari is serviceable, but not the jewel that Tarti was. However, the two delightful ladies at the rent-room could not have been nicer. They feted us with fresh garden produce and homemade sweets.
Day 17-19: Tarti
We set off early (well, 11am) from Mytilini to parts unknown. The sign to Sebastian's Taberna in Tarti looked good so we pull in. It's a secluded cove with a beautiful pebble beach nestled in a valley of olive groves and surrounded by promontories of marble and schist. There are a grand total of three tavernas, a smattering of rent-rooms, and a few dozen umbrellas by the beach. We find an umbrella, a beer, a salad, then a room, in that order, and settle in.
There is a constant stream of local's at Sebastian's Taverna, now owned and operated by Stratos, son of the eponymous Sebastian. He has the able help of his wife Matina, son Isidoros, and daughter Kiki. A constant fixture is Rumsen, a musician, raconteur, and free spirit. He is usually accompanied by his wife and his eleven-year-old daughter Nineveh.
This is a beautiful, secluded beach and I am sad to leave it.
There is a constant stream of local's at Sebastian's Taverna, now owned and operated by Stratos, son of the eponymous Sebastian. He has the able help of his wife Matina, son Isidoros, and daughter Kiki. A constant fixture is Rumsen, a musician, raconteur, and free spirit. He is usually accompanied by his wife and his eleven-year-old daughter Nineveh.
This is a beautiful, secluded beach and I am sad to leave it.
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