Returning to Turkey with Fez Bus finding different
It was not far to Salklikent gorge, our next destination with rushing water and smooth rocks. Next to this rafting, swimming and hiking hotspot is a cafe next to the river. I ate lunch, had a couple of glasses of Efes with lunch and then napped.
We drove out of Koycegiz on our way to Fetiye and Oludinez. The bus slowly crawled through impressive mountain ranges and raggedy pine forests; now and then passing fruit stands selling jars of pine tree honey and fresh figs. These fruit stands are in the middle of bloody nowhere, so it is a mystery to me where these farmers actually live. I rarely saw signs of any actual villages out there. We didn’t stop at these stands, we only had time to stop at proper gas stations so that the Isuzu bus could fill up on diesel and to give the Australian girls a chance to use the loo. Out there, far away from cities, the loo opportunities tend to be grotty squatter versions which require a sense of grace, decorum and balance (that I do not have) so I usually would choose to withhold my true feelings until better opportunities would present themselves.
In the afternoon, we arrived at Oludinez and I hopped off to stay at my lodging choice, different from everyone else’s, a three-star with a/c. The owner and staff welcomed me back, I dined poolside by myself. I read my book and had a bottle of Turkish red wine and a large fish, both very fresh.
Early bloody a.m. the next morning and I find myself in a taxi, winding out in second gear, down the hill to the Fez pickup spot. $4.85 in taxi fare later, I arrive far too early, tea water not yet hot, certainly one of the bad points of punctuality. The bus continued along the Turquoise coast towards Olimpos, that night’s destination. We were supposed to stop for a swim but the sea was choppy. Geof must have had visions of his paying customers being slammed into rocks, as he cancelled our afternoon swim. We had our togs on under our clothing though and got to wear them there for the rest of the day. Too bad nobody got to see me in my micro Speedo.
Eventually, we made it to Kadir’s. The area in which we were staying is preserved, no permanent structures allowed. Kadir has exploited a loophole and provides lodging to the backpackerati in treehouses. Having stayed there before, I chose instead to get my own treehouse from the competition next door for $8.00. As much as I am keen to hang with my dreadlocked brethren, I don’t care to sleep near them. After freshening up on a proper commode, I went back to join up with the group and drink raki (Turkish Ouzo). We had a few and then a few more and the glass was filled and then refilled as much as not necessary. At 0400, the group decided to go skinny-dipping in the Mediterranean, but I apparently chose to crawl back to my treehouse and sleep it off.
It was a long drive up to Goreme. We passed though wheat fields for hours; eventually climbing through mountain ranges that could easily be in the American West, maybe South Dakota. Other than the nifty scenery that only I was enjoying, the route from the Med up to Cappadocia is boring for most. People used the time to recover from their hangovers and to snooze. Having done this route before, I knew what was coming: the jaw dropping reaction and ooh’s from the passengers when we finally reached Goreme. It really is a dramatic change in terrain and, in my opinion, should be on every person’s lifetime must-see list. Goreme is *my* chill-out spot, a place where I can nap as much as I want and so I did.
My favorite pension is now under new management, so I chose to stay elsewhere (The old management are close friends of mine and I am loyal to my friends. They were sacked and now Flintstones is not my “home” in Goreme). This time I chose the Paradise Pension, a friendly and mildly seedy place with a good selection of flies and a great underground bar. Run by a sumo-sized Turk named “Big Mehmet” and a motherly South African named Jody, I was taken care of. My room was a “cave” room, and was cool in the middle of the day. As it is already September and Goreme is at 3000 ft., it is never that hot during the day, maybe 26°C.
Pg1: Trip to TurkeyPg2: Oludinez and GoremePg3: Sidetrip to Syria?Pg4: Sweat shop near Mt. NemrutPg5: Sacred pools of carpPg6: Trabzon’s Russian Market