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taksis, tube socks and trash, oh my! |
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Avyalik, TR sunny, 70° September 24, 1998 A charming fishing village on the shores of the Aegean Sea. Avyalik was a breath of fresh air after the bustle of Bursa. Like all our driving destinations, we'd usually have one in mind, then consult the Rough Guide, find out that our original destination held no appeal, and pick a new one, on the fly. This method of travel served us extremely well! On
our arrival in Ayvalik, we notice a number of travel agencies offering
trips to the Greek island of Lesbos. I'm all over that! On closer inspection,
it turns out to be a scam. The boats leave at 7 PM, go to Lesbos in
time for dinner, stay overnight and leave at 8AM the next day - for
about US$160. No thanks. Instead, we wander around on the shore, taking
in the ambiance. For dinner, we ventured onto a pier that had 3-4 seafood restaurants, practically stacked up. We're now savvy to the restauranteurs aggressive method of getting customers, and we insist on looking at the menus of all the restaurants before making a decision. We select a restaurant, based on the liveliness of the crowd. I'm in the mood, as usual, for some delicious seafood. Sea Bass! However, the luscious Sea Bass of my mind is not what they serve here in Ayvalik. What I get (and my entree appears WAY before Jeff's - we send it back until his is done) is a plain grilled fish, plopped unceremoniously on a plate with no seasonings. -sigh- Our appetizer consists of a group of pickled seafood bites, of questionable freshness. We Chicago restaurant snobs are a tough audience . . . . Right next to our table, a fishing boat is moored, with two fisherman on it, eating their dinner. Jeff immediately begins taking pictures of them, and they are amused. So amused that they send over a plate of anchovies, ostensibly caught and cured that day. I figure they scraped them off the bottom of their boat, but I dig in anyway. We send them over a bottle of $4 wine, which they enjoy immediately. I devour my own anchovies, plus most of Jeff's as he doesn't care for them. HOTEL KAPTAN Kusadasi, TR sunny, 70° September 25, 1998 The Rough Guide describes Kusadasi as a "bloated, Las Vegas style resort". Well, that's sometimes just what weary travelers need. We're wrecked from a long drive, and Jeff is having digestive unrest. Probably from those anchovies the dirty men on the dirty boat gave us at dinner, in exchange for a $4 bottle of wine. Myself, stomach of steel, am unfazed by the anchovies, after eating Jeff's leftovers as well as my own, I'm jonesin' for more! We check into the Efes hotel, which actually got kind of a mixed review from the Rough Guide. We find it glamourous on the surface, with a moldy underbelly, in the form of a too-damp bathroom. There is a huge bathtub, we both take advantage of that. Before retiring, we walk around the market area, found the same tchotchkes on display. We also learn, in this hotel, that a "French" bed is apparently a double mattress thrown flat on the floor, no frame holding it off the carpet, a too-small sheet and coverlet of questionable cleanliness. Charming, and sooo elegant. We read that the population of Kusadasi ballooned from 1500 to about 8,000,000 in just five years. The slipshod construction visible in most of the buildings illustrates this haste. A hotel plopped on a rock cliff, no apparent foundation. A talented architect who wanted to build the right way would never get work here, everything is very TURKISH. Don't bother relocating to Kusadasi, Jeremy. Kusadasi, TR sunny, HOT! 80° September 26, 1998 EFES: Today, we visit the ruined Roman city of Efes. Well, after a couple hours of lounging by the pool, that is. We eat breakfast on the terrace overlooking the Aegean Sea. Jeff becomes engrossed in taking pictures of a fishing boat anchored offshore, filled with fishermen tending their nets. Meanwhile, I watch the huge cruise ships and sigh as I see hundreds of tourists streaming off them into this port city. Ack . . . . more people. We finish breakfast and take our tea poolside, after quickly changing into pool togs. I love that word, "togs", don't you? While we're lounging, we meet a native of Capetown, South Africa and his bored girlfriend. She retires immediately to the room, ostensibly to sleep, while he hangs out with us for a bit, he's a charming character. He's very into Harley Davidsons, scuba diving, traveling and the beach. His paramour seems to share none of these interests, as every time we see them she looks decidely unhappy. Nonetheless, they're here in Kusadasi for five days, we wonder what they'll find to do save taking the bus to the grubby "Ladies Beach" that is about two miles north. Morning becomes afternoon, and the fruity rum drinks appear . . . . |
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The
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Lunchtime. Kebap, tomato soup and CocaCola (saved from bubbling over by the insertion of the heavy metal tee shirt-clad waiters dirty thumb!) Then off to Efes! We drive out, about five miles, park, and are instantly inundated by "guides" and hawkers pushing all kinds of crap. Donkey rides, caftans, food, beverages, guidebooks, maps, rugs, cheap tee shirts, jewelry and any kind of tourist tchotchke imaginable. This sickens me, and I go off on a bit of a rant about how the Turks are bastardizing their own culture solely to amuse the tourists. Jeff listens with amusement, as always, but he does nod in agreement from behind his camera lens. Our first glimpse of Efes is somewhat dissapointing. It's a large ampitheater, with blocks of rock neatly stacked in rows outside, with no explanationof what we're seeing. We do have a Rough Guide map to consult, however, and I am off in search of the Roman bordello ruinas, my curiosity piqued, as always, by the the forbidden, the sordid or the extreme. EFES HOTEL KUSADASI We're not terribly sorry to leave Kusadasi, and up uncharacteristically early, we motor east, originally to Fethiye. The landscape is really beautiful, much like New Mexico with the rocks and pine trees. The mountains, by this time, are amazing - misty and HUGE! We're up at quite a high altitude. We're encountering some really good driving, and we stop often for a snack, someting that strikes us as interesting, or to snap a picture. Usually, the snacks end up to be food from a gas station, where ironically, we found some of the best food in Turkey! We're also enamored of all the weird candy and snack foods they sell. Tip: Turkish chewing gum is the most boring substance on earth. Imagine chewing a hunk of malleable plastic, with absolutely no flavor. It's like US gum after all the flavor has been chewed out. |
Where the hell am I? Wait! I have my Rough Guide! Yep, it's an olive shop.A wrong turn through Fethiye takes us to Ouludeniz, a cool little beach town on the Mediterranean. By now, we're full-on Mediterranean, baby. What the Turks call the "Turquoise Coast", which extends all the way to Antalya. Immediately upon arrival in Ouludeniz, we slap on the bathing suits and flop around in the sea. Ah, bliss. The beach is rocky, but the water is perfect. There are parasailers everywhere, this cove is quite popular. Again, it's mostly Euro tourists, the hotel staff informs us that they don't get alot of US tourists here. For dinner, we're both in the mood for some slightly American food, after all the disapointing seafood. We eat at an Austrailan-owned place, outdoors, loud, and lively. OULUDENIZ, TR sunny, warm 75° September 28, 1998 Today, we awake remarkably early, to catch our 11:00 boat for the island tour. We boarded with our fellow travelers and were off our first destination is a cave that you can swim into. Our first dip into the open Mediterranean! Wheee! After that, the Butterfly Cove. When we get there, it's a hot, dusty 45 minute trudge (for 200,000 TL admission fee, natch), a possibility of seeing rare Jersey butterflies and a small waterfall. No such species appears, and the waterfall proves to be beyond a rather treacherous rock clumb. Many of the older members of our group opt out. Jeff and I turn back when informed by the others that it's "nothing special". Looking back, I should have merely swam around on what is a very pleasant, secluded beach. We take off for our next destination of fun. Our boat, is called the Akdeniz, and at one point, I end up steering the boat - photo opps! Jeff and I remain on the first level of the boat, sheltering ourselves from burning rays of the sun. This turns out to be a preferable option, we have this level much to ourselves - except for the crew, who are a fun bunch. The young captain tells us he likes to go to places where the other boats don't go, so it's not so crowded. Ah, bliss. Our next stop is a small beach where there are a few reefs with some coral, according to Jeff, intrepid snorkeler. I swim around, and Jeff sets out for deep water, near some big rocks. While we're in this cove, a boat called "Lodos" pulls up. There's a woman in front making crepes, what the Turks call pancakes. I estimate this woman to be about my age, although she is missing quite a few teeth, she seems in good health otherwise. This boat trip was a LOT of fun, and I can't get enough of swimming in the Mediterranean. It's a small crowd on the boat, and much more fun than the huge boat we would take later in Kos. Every time we stopped somewhere, the crew would shout "Time to fish!" and toss their lines overboard while the rest of us explored ruins, swam or lounged on the boat. |
© text + photos © 2001, Erika Linden Green, may not be reproduced or duplicated without permission.
