Antalya: The Holiday of Unexpected Things

Part I: Encounters with Ozemniyet

Just after I returned from Antalya, a friend asked, "Ozemniyet! How did you find that [bus] company?"

I said, "What do you mean?"

She replied, "That is a very bad company."

And so I have learned another lesson through experience.

I purchased my ticket to Antalya and reserved my return ticket to Bolu with very little time to spare before the holiday. I knew it would be an overnight bus, and I hoped to maximize my time on the coast. However, the timing of the ticket was completely off, and even a week before the holiday I was feeling disillusioned about the short time I'd spend vacationing and the long time I would spend sleep-talking on a bus.

So, I considered refunding the ticket and running away to anywhere else: Europe or Istanbul with Claire's family. But the idea of Kristin, Karl, and Will at the Mediterranean held me fast in the end. I had my ticket, and by Tuesday afternoon (after hours of housecleaning), I was excited to go.

When I purchased my ticket, I asked about the service shuttle from campus to the bus station. If I don't do this, I generally have few options for getting to the bus station. So I was told (here I am, mentally shaking a fist at this guy) that the bus left the station at 8:30pm and my shuttle would pick me up at 8pm at the campus. Yes, it was a holiday, and yes, campus felt deserted, but this system had worked in all my many other trips, and I had no reason to suspect what I had been told.

I took these pictures at 7:45pm on Wednesday, just a few minutes before I began to suspect that my shuttle wouldn't arrive and I might not make my 12-hour bus to the holiday I really needed.

These are of the student center on campus; the space is actually much more friendly-looking than it appears here-- I wanted to capture how strange and still it felt without the bustling and laughter of students during term. I think I and the guy working in the Sok were the only two people there.

At about 8:05 I realized that my options were limited. I don't have the campus taxi's phone number, and it's a ten minute walk from campus center to the taxi stand. A fifteen-to-twenty minute drive from there to the bus station. By this time, the Ozemniyet office on campus was closed, and I didn't see their number anywhere. So I got on the phone with the one person whose number I did have: Abdullah, my contact.

He spent seven minutes on a phone working his magic, and literally five minutes later a shuttle from another company was hustling down the road to pick me up and take me to the station.

I made the bus with time to spare. I sent a grateful text message off to Abdullah, which never reached him because I actually sent it to another coworker of ours (tcha! I was a bit befuddled by this point), and then I got cozy in my window seat and slept for twelve hours.

Sleep was punctuated by occasional stops at other stations along the way and the consequential re-lighting of the bus. At 3:30am I awoke in [I don't know where] when the guy two rows ahead of me stopped snoring. I had been dreaming of Emily, Chance, and Helen Marie. We were headed to a flight to Istanbul, and Emily and Chance were using my baggage to smuggle endless bottles of bad booze onto the flight; Helen Marie, being the most clever and resourceful, was distracting security.

I rolled into Antalya incredibly refreshed and excited to see my traveling mates. So, when I stepped up to the Ozemniyet desk to claim my reserved ticket home, I was cool as a cucumber when the gentleman behind the desk told me there was no reservation in my name. Naturally.

So, I snagged a different return ticket for Saturday evening [this was Thursday morning, by the way, and my holiday lasted until Monday] and made my merry way to Kaleici and the Sabah Pansiyon, where I set eyes first on the lovely Caroline, Billy, and Wyatt.

Part II: In Which I Meet the Mediterranean Sea
It's a slow start to the day because most of the people I'm meeting at Sabah Pansiyon are hungover; turns out I actually got more sleep on the bus than they did. I eat a hearty breakfast and begin to think about my options for the day.

I realize I can't go to Termessos like I initially [really!] wanted to-- the trip entails another hour-long bus ride each way, and even though I'm well-slept, the idea of sitting back on a bus makes me crazy. So I choose to head to the beach with the rest of the kids. We walk along the water from Old Town (Kaleici) to a large rock beach where there's calm, warm water and lounge chairs.

I say this to Billy, who agrees: Antalya is a really sexy city. Not only is it an interesting historical area, but also there's a lot of super-mod designer spaces integrated with the palm trees.

Wyatt, Caroline, and Allison among others walk down the street past a crowded series of cafes serving doner, kebap, and kokorec.

Olivia and historical Antalya on the way towards Antalya's [yacht] marina (pictured below). Again, I think she fits the particular glam of this place.

West!

I don't know what's happened to me. All I can say is that I am not so much in love with the Mediterranean as I am in love with Karadeniz. The Mediterranean is really nice-- warm, (a bit salty), not too choppy so good for a dip-- but for me, it has nothing on the Black Sea. All I know is that when it comes to swimming in the Mediterranean, I think "nice--", but I am compelled to get into the Black Sea almost every time I see it, including the time last week when I was taken up to Akcakoca with the Engin family. I didn't get in it last time, but that doesn't mean I didn't think about it. Don't get me wrong-- the Mediterranean is glorious, and I definitely had some exquisite days on it. I think with particular regard to the company I shared.

Part III: Encounters with Kate Clow (and the Lykian Yolu)
There's a used bookstore in Antalya that caters to English and German literature. I went crazy there, but that's beside the point. Apparently, two days before we attempted the section of the Lycian Way (Lykian Yolu) from Tekirova to Cirali, EJ and a number of people visited the bookstore and talked with its owner about the Lycian Way trail guide we were using: The Lycian Way by Kate Clow.

What he said: "Kate Clow! The most incompetent woman I have ever met."


But we started Friday off fortuitously. Kristin was still too ill to join us (the poor girl spent her holiday in a bed at the Sabah), but six of us left Sabah to meet Miki and Maggie at the bus station to head to Tekirova. Unfortunately, we got a late start on pretty much everything-- finishing breakfast and catching a bus to the station. And the dolmus to Tekirova was definitely an hour longer than I anticipated, but I had not made myself well-informed, to be sure.

Allison, Will, EJ, Karl, and Liza-- headin' out!

I should have known it'd be that kind of day when we arrived at the bus station. I decided on Thursday after hearing Liza, Billy, Caroline, and Wyatt discussing the rental car option that I'd tie my fate to theirs and return Monday instead of Saturday evening. Who wants to leave holiday early, anyway?

So, I managed to return my ticket and get a cash refund on Friday morning. I felt a little crazy-- Billy and Caro hadn't booked the car yet, and I felt that I'd be encountering more with this team than I would be with a Turkish bus.

But I let certainty go: "and now, Harry, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure" (Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince). And I knew I was present.

This is Two Rocks Beach, I think.

There are a lot of mining remnants left in this area.

The beauty of this picture is in its irony: Will and Maggie at the swing is one of the last images all of us took before the light began to fade and before we missed the trail that we really should have taken. Perhaps it was because we were trying to walk the Lykian Yolu backward from Antalya to Fethiye, but we certainly did not  understand that Kate Clow was instructing us to push to the far edge of the last beach and make our way through that creepy tunnel to the remainder of the trail.
So, we went in the most promising direction: a straightforward, well-blazed trail that was marked exactly the same way as the rest of the trail that day had been marked (with red and white plastic markers).
About half an hour past this last beach (Maden Beach, methinks, but it may remain an eternal mystery), the eight of us ETAs were reunited with a couple of Carolinans we'd met on the trail earlier in the day. They had been using Kate Clow's book and were confused, too. First, they looked at the tunnel, decided it was definitely too dubious to attempt, and then they went in our direction until the trail ended at a small creek. They had turned back to find us. We forged ahead, unclear about this tunnel (should we have tried it? Kate Clow didn't say to do so; it was just sort of marked on a map of hers in the book), and got to the creek. We stepped on stones across it and found a trail with markers that had been guiding us all along.

Three hours later, the ten of us were beginning to lose hope. We were close to radio towers, so we could use our phones easily. But some of our packs were too heavy, and we had been playing musical packs for a while. Will had used his GPS to determine that we were close to Cirali, and upon using it a second time he discovered that we were farther from it than we had previously been. Somebody threatened to break her leg so the helicopter rescue would be justified. We trudged on in the moonlight, thanking the responsible forces in the universe that there's little known wildlife (wolves, mountain lions, and etcetera) in this part of the world and that there wasn't any rain.

Two minutes after Will gives us the bad news, those of us in front see the bright shock of a flashlight and hear a timid "Hello?"

I am sure it's aliens for a second.

When she stops shining the light in our eyes and introduces herself as Liza, I realize with utter [I have no word for this] that this lone, petite woman in front of us is actually the third independent party to get lost on the Lykian Yolu this afternoon/evening. Unreal.

But Liza ends up being our hookup. She's hiking alone, but she's got a guide whom she's called and who will pick us up if we can make it the hour or so further to the asphalt. We break for raki and to finish our snacks, put on an extra layer, and with lightened hearts continue toward the highway that we now know for sure exists. We take two hours, and when we see our vans and hear that they've found us rooms in Cirali, I am sure that I have fallen in love with everyone I'm with. I am so elated.

We get to Cirali at 10:15pm, drop our bags, forgo showering for dinner (water, domates corbasi and gozleme-- unbelievably good), rinse off, and sleep. We barely know where we are. And we certainly no longer know what day it is.

Part IV: I Awake First in a Bed, Second in a Hammock

I woke up in Sera Pension on Saturday morning. I decided to get out of bed and threw on the remainder of my clean layers (plenty warm) to visit a hammock I'd spied the night before. I thought about bringing Rumi, but I wasn't sure I wanted to read, so I just looked at the beautiful place I'd been dropped into. The roosters began to crow. When I woke up again, our hosts were making a breakfast both gigantic and delicious.

We made it out of the mountains: Je, Karl, EJ, Will, Liza, Allison, Maggie, and Miki.

Will and Karl are thoughtful on the dolmus back from Cirali to Antalya.

Part V: Encounters with Tavuk Doner and Other Big Sandwiches
Note, please, that my encounters with Ozemniyet and Kate Clow were good (albeit not really pleasant) learning experiences. When we got back to Antalya, we were famished again and decided to have a certain interaction with some doner. At 3TL for doner and an ayran, this was one of the most tasty encounters of my entire trip.

Liza and Will are happy about it, too.

Stuffing doner with peppers lets you know you're alive.

I don't remember the name of the huge sandwich Wyatt ate later.

Part VI: We Return Home by Way of Konya and Ankara

I woke up too early on Sunday because of daylight savings. So I snapped two pictures and went to read Rumi (read: nap) in the cozy nook at the Pansiyon.

Liza, Caroline, Wyatt, Billy and I said goodbye to Karl and Will and hit the road before 9am to pick up the car from the airport. The moment we heard that we'd been upgraded to an automatic, everyone wanted to drive. But Liza, Caro and I shared the back-- Wyatt says to Latasha on the phone, "Jess is ensconced in a friendship sandwich"-- while Billy took us out of Antalya. We realized that all the iPhones in the car had bluetooth capability compatible with the sound system, so naturally the second song Liza played as we left our Mediterranean holiday was Lou Reed's "Walk on the Wild Side".

It was a good ride through to Konya to pick up some of Caro's things for her visit to Kirrikale and where Billy and Wyatt switched driving responsibilities while I was given the shotgun seat.

We talked about a lot of different things-- the political and education system in the states, Liza's exciting travels and life, Washington state history-- but I realized that what I'd been talking to Liza about on Friday's hike, namely that you can have your life and your travels, too, you've just got to work really hard at it, is true.

I really did have this moment Friday night when we came upon the asphalt that I felt my interior landscape open up to the sky. I felt incredible gratitude and fondness-- love-- for the people with whom I had shared this truly bizarre experience. But I also was dehydrated.

Sunday, however, as I sat "ensconced in a friendship sandwich" between Caroline and Liza, I realized that I can find that place that is a perfect balance between my love for my partner, Walla Walla, all of the Pacific Northwest and my pursuit of that flighty temptress, adventure. You just have to be committed to it and work hard at it. And probably be a communitarian, too.

I came home to Bolu more committed to this region and its people and learning their language than I had felt before. I love it here. I love the adventure. And that does not diminish my love for home. I think, in fact, that it expands that love.

Iyi Bayramlar!

My overnight bus leaves in an hour for Antalya, where I'll spend two nights on holiday!

It's Sacrifice Feast right now-- Eid al-Adha, in case you're interested. Everyone here is spending time with family and close friends, so know that I'll be thinking about you back home (more than I already do!).

Remind me that I've got to tell you about eating while walking and that I owe you two posts on:

• "Teaching, Turkish, and Tavla"
• "Topophilia: Bolu in October"

You've been on my mind. Happy Holidays to me, and I send my best wishes to you!

Zonguldak'a

I have seemed only to have good luck in visiting the Black Sea. I suspect the sea may be trying to seduce me-- whenever I go, the weather's beautiful and the sea's not too choppy. Karadeniz, I hope to see a different side of you this winter.

(By the way-- this dog is yawning, not snarling. She followed us most of the way through our tour of campus.)

Karl and Shannon teach at Bulent Ecevit University, and this is us looking back at the entrance. It's lit at night and quite stunning.

I'll probably say this many more times throughout the year, but I'm sure I owe a great deal of my sanity to my friendship with Karl. But! I might be too naive for his brand of humor. Kristin and I have experienced a similar thing-- one time, as she was about to sit on a stoop (exhausted, she was!), Karl cried, "that's illegal!" You should have seen the girl jump. And of course sitting on the stoop wasn't illegal, but he said it with such conviction that even I was momentarily sure that was true. It's a very sly, surprising humor, and I'm glad to be getting the hang of it. You need to, unless you want to be the butt.

So Jeremy's telling Karl about the lessons he visited in Bolu before we bussed up together to Zonguldak. Jeremy actually saw conversation clubs with me, Stephanie, and Claire. In Claire's club, she was passing pictures around to small groups and apparently the students really enjoyed it. "I got really into it," Jeremy says, "I felt like I was second teacher." So Karl, in true form, replies, "Did you make Claire pay you money?"

Views of and from Okyanus Bar. We thought we might have tea here Saturday morning, but it didn't happen. We delayed gratification and broke our fast at 13:00 (or some crazy hour) for pide and lahmacun.

The camii in Zonguldak city centre.

Adana kebap (w/ yogurt), lahmacun, chickensomething, and pide.

Oh, and my glass-bottled Coca-Cola. A very satisfying lunch.

After lunch, Jeremy decides he really wants to get out to one of the lighthouses that guard the harbor in Zonguldak. Karl's got to go home and prepare for Saturday evening's party (this is the whole reason we came, so a bunch of ETAs could meet the lovely people who work with Shannon and Karl), so I decide to walk down the pier to this lighthouse, too.

I don't really know what this is about, but I'd really like to see it lit up. Especially that anchor. So far, the pier here is not too smelly.

There's not really a good path out to this lighthouse-- it's really just rocks. I'm wearing my black leather Dansko clogs with the heel straps-- Carly Lane, whenever I look at these shoes I think of you-- and I realize that they've broken at some point in the morning's walk around campus (just right on the seam, easy enough to repair). When Jeremy realizes this, he says we can turn around. But I let him know we're going to get to the lighthouse. We're going to complete this quest.

And we do complete the quest.

Betul, a coworker and close friend of Shannon and Karl.

This is one of my favorite photos of the weekend, because it's so typical of both Shannon and Chance. Shannon is bubbly, enthusiastic, and a great hugger. Chance, on the other hand, pretends to look like he might be too cool for hugs. But you can see he actually likes them.

 We stay up pretty late.

The next morning, Jeremy, Liz and I get up early (relative to Karl and John, who are excellent at sleeping in) to walk down to the beach near Kozlu (the neighborhood/suburb just on the Zonguldak outskirts where the apartment is). I just want to look at the sea, but I think Jeremy plans to get in it.

Liz and shadows.

She's got these incredible eyes. By the way, the legs in the picture belong to Shannon. After a little while, she and Chance join us at the beach (John and Karl are still asleep!), and we continue to collect rocks. The boys skip rocks.

I think everyone knows how to skip rocks except me.

Oh, breakfast! I think the name of this place is Ulixir (but for the life of me, I can't spell anything properly here). The first course consists of these dumplings for dipping in the four various sauces-- butter, honey, tahini, and cranberry.

 After the breakfast plates and tea cups are cleared away...

 Maybe I won't know these people forever, but they are my friends here and now.