Days 25-26: onto turkey's turqoise coast

Friday 30 September was my last day in Istanbul (this time around), and with Paul as a travel buddy. We slept in and lazed around as the day was hardly a welcoming one... pouring rain and cold. I am in Istnabul with weeks ahead of more travel. Life could be worse.

I endlessly snacked on Turkish delights (a sweet I detested until I tasted the most authentic) while packing my things and booked a bus ticket for the next phase of my travels. Paul and I reflect on how it's always so sad...for about an hour... when you say goodbye to travel buddies- before you then find yourself in another new and exciting locale, with freedom to do as you please. It was a quiet day of checking out the Blue Mosque (I've never seen a place so effiencient in getting people's shoes off, in through the doors and out the other side), mailing post cards, and admiring Istanbul's public rubbish bins:

These massive bins are 3/4  underground and emptied as shown in this picture. The bins themselves dont really look anything like bins- they sit at average bin height, with a footpetal, but look like water fountains, not bins. Paul and I thought this was neat. Perhaps this is why it's wise to travel with like- minded engineers...as others might not have been so enthused.

I boarded a lavish overnight bus from the Istanbul station- equipped with wifi and individual tv screens. I got stuck with an aisle seat and a neighbour who was larger than the allocated seat space. Suffice to say, I didn't sleep well.

I pulled into Izmir after nine hours on the road and transfered buses to Alacati (c with a squiggle), where I then took a minibus to the tiny town of Cark (c with a squiggle), where the windsurf/kitesurf bay was located. I relied heavily on my handwritten notes as when I pronounced these places, I was getting it all wrong. They had no clue what I was saying or where I wanted to go.

After the local minibus ride, I was dropped off at the end of a semi-paved road. The endless flags of kite and windsurf schools reassured me I had made it- but there was no sign of the Cark Pensyion, the place I was hoping to stay. I sauntered up the the neabry resort, backpack on, and approached the beach hut.

Three young men sat around glasses of turkish tea, cigarettes glowing in the ashtray, and jumped up as I rounded the corner, shuffling in the hot sand.

"Do you speak English?" I ask.

"Yes! Where did you come from?" asks the one closest to me. He removed his sunglasses and looks at me as if I've just landed from mars. Or walked up to a remote beach hut carrying a huge backpack and overdressed for the hot weather, clearly lost.

"The bus," I reply.

"Oh," he says, realising that was sufficiently logical.

I asked for directions to my accommodation, and he smilled, saying he knew the owner well and that the Pensiyon is 300m back up the road, "I was drunk with him just last night!" he says in a thick Turkish accent, beaming.

"I can take you there!" he continued enthusiastically. It's clear he's bored as the beach is dead empty, and there are no resort goers looking for watesports today. It's officially the offseason.

I follow him along the sand and back to the half-paved road. He stops ahead of me, opening the boot of a tiny white car. Oh my... he's going to drive me all 275m. This isn't even worth taking my pack off. Appreciate the generosity, Bonita, appreciate.

This kind Turkish man had beach worn skin and ran with the beach bum look- he even called himself Captain.

We pulled into the Pansiyon- which really was just 275m along the road- and he carries my huge bag out of the car and walks into the main courtyard. I follow somewhat sheepishly, grinning at the obscurity of the situation.

Captain natters in Turkish to the family of six sitting around under the shade, looking back and forth from me to him.

Oh god what is he saying?

One of the men jumps up and grins, and takes my bag.

"Is there room?" I ask Captain.

He laughs, "They are pretty empty. You could maybe even stay for free," he says, joking. I wish he hadn't gotten my hopes up like that.

I shook hands with Captain and thanked him, "I'm sure I'll see you on the beach!" he says, "Feel free to stop by the hut anytime!"

The hosts led me up a small set of stairs into a big terracotta home and down a sunlight hallway with doors on either side. I have a comfortable room- I think the only one that was made at this point in the season- overlooking a back courtyard with glimpses of the sea beyond with a private bathroom and two twin beds. It's costing less than 16 euro per night, including breakfast. I love a deal...and the kitesurf rental shop is a mere 50m away.

Once settled, I meandered down to the beach, passing the family hosts on my way out. There was no reception or front desk, but I was getting the feeling that if I needed something, someone was bound to be in the front courtyard. I spent a lazy afternoon reading and enjoying more warm sun after a rainy day in Istanbul, and at 4:30 the wind shifted and I hitched a ride with the owners of the school to a quiet bay nearby to get an end-of-day kite session in. 

The wind was far from ideal- gusty and dropping out at times- but kiting over this warm, shallow bay, I zipped back and forth watching as the sun set behind the mountains in the west. If only I could drink a glass of wine while kite surfing. Despite having had little rest during my overnight coach ride, I was running on adrenaline and rode until the sky was dim, the sun tucked away and the moon beginning to glow. The air grew chilly as we packed up, driving along a rocky dirt road in an open-aired jeep. We passed by sheep herders on the east, and shallow swamps housing flocks of birds on the west- with the glowing dusk mountains as a backdrop.

When I returned to the pensyion the host family was sitting out in the courtyard enjoying dinner so I quietly nodded hello and shuffled on past to my room. After a steaming hot shower, I came out to the front courtyard and found the family relaxing- with a game of backgammon going on in the corner. I asked if dinner was still available, and they jumped to their feet to serve up a piping hot plate of the very meal they had just had. It was delicious aubergine and minced casserole with juicy tomatoes, fresh bread, and tasty wrap thingers (stuffed with rice- a traditional Turkish appetizer). I'm sitting under the trees of the quiet courtyard with Hilton-esque lights draped from tree to tree, the stars visible beyond and with crickets chirping in the background. And yes, I have a glass of wine.