Speeding Along
I think I don't like mutabal. The gallayah was good, but nothing to write home about. But I guess good enough to blog about?

So after Chimera, I spent morning lazing about, mostly trying to work on a tan. To get to the beach, I would've had to take a ten-minute walk through some ruins (and pay money for them), so I just hung out at the hostel, alternating between hammock and picnic bench.

I think I've actually managed to sunburn my forearm. But it looks like it skipped pain and went straight through to peeling.

Anyway, I took a shower and headed to Antalya for the afternoon. But all I really did was go to the hamam and get some [Turkish] fast food. I've managed to not eat anything "American," or any of the foreign cuisines that are now mainstream (e.g. Italian, Chinese). Although I am sometimes weak when I pass a McDonald's, which isn't frequently. And American fast food doesn't really cross my mind unless I see it.

So I bathed and ate, and then I got on a bus bound for Cappadocia, or land of the "fairy chimneys." The fairy chimneys are geologic phenomena that resemble misshapen penises. Much of the land is soft and volcanic in origin, so it readily erodes. But where harder rocks were on these beds of soft rock, they prevented the erosion of the clay directly beneath them. This resulted in towers of this soft rock, with a large rock perched atop. So then the whole penis thing.

I got into a town called Göreme at 6:30 in the morning, not having continuously slept for more than two hours all night. And nothing was open. So I sat on the curb for half an hour, until the bus company offices started opening. I found a bus for the right time and price, and they let me leave my backpack in the office for the day.

I headed across the town square to ask about moped rental prices. Two of the three agencies were open, and they offered the same price. I tried to find breakfast, to get some calories in me, but nothing was open. So I just got cookies at the market.

And then I drove around on a moped for eight hours. Well, I stopped along the way. I hit many of the tourist sites in the region, including Zelve (where people carved cave dwellings but were forced to relocate in the 50s), Devrent Valley (clusters of fairy chimneys), Özkonak (one of the underground cities, but small in scale), the towns of Avanos and Ürgüp, and Kaymaklı (one of the larger underground cities). Notably, I didn't have time for the Göreme Open Air Museum, which is like Zelve, but more impressive and with intact frescoes.

And while the sites were interesting, it was also nice zipping down the roads, watching the scenery pass (I think the moped is part of the reason my forearms are peeling).

I tried to go to the local hamam, since I was feeling gross, but they were at capacity with a tour group. So I just treated myself to a steak dinner (oops, American!) and then got on a bus bound for Antakya.

The ride was uneventful; I passed out pretty hard, and I had to be woke up after everyone had already disembarked.

And then the story picks up with the Attractive Man and the Syrian border.

Labels: bar trip, Göreme (TR), Olympos (TR)

- posted by roger @ 8:18 PM (0) comments

 
At Least I Got a Facebook Profile Pic Out of It
So the Chimera was kind of a let down. It's a site on the Mediterranean coast of Turkey. The towns Çıralı and Olympos are nearby, but the closest big city is Antalya. The preferred spelling may be Chimaera, but I'm just going with Chimera. Anyway, the legend goes that Zeus buried Chimera in the ground and poured molten lead down his throat, causing him to breathe fire (or something to that effect). And to this day, Chimera continues to breathe fire: there are maybe 20 cracks in the ground where escaping gas spontaneously ignites upon contact with the air. The LP said you can cover a hole and put out the fire, but the fire returns as soon as you uncover it. I kind of wanted to see if I could pee one out, but my bladder wouldn't hold for the 1.5h walk, and there were people around, anyway.

Sounds like a cool site, right? Twenty small fires, littered across the ground? That's just it--it sounds cool and probably warrants a googling/wikipedia, but it's really not essential to see. It looks exactly like a gas fireplace...because that's what it is. The flames are cool, but they're mostly steady, due to the constant stream of gas. So you're just watching a fire, without anything visibly burning, and without any sounds.

It just wasn't worth the logistical details, e.g. trying to be there at night.

Dinner's here: mutabal and red gallayah!

Labels: bar trip, Olympos (TR)

- posted by roger @ 7:34 PM (0) comments

 
Whew
Turned out to just be throwing my passport at the hole in the officer's window.

So it's four hours later, and I'm just out about $25: $16 for the visa, $9 to get a random bus company to take me to Damascus. (ed note: actually, I was out another $60. Visas could only be paid for by US dollars or Syrian pounds; some naive sense of a Traveler's Code or compassion compelled me to lend the Norwegian and Australian money for their visas, trusting that they'd use my email address to contact me in the future and pay me back. Small part of me hopes they one day remember, but I'm not holding my breath) Pretty sure I won't be making it to Jordan tonight; I definitely won't make it to Petra. But I got across the border without much hassle. I just wish I'd brought a book to read--the iPod's almost out of batteries from playing Solitaire.

Labels: bar trip

- posted by roger @ 3:00 PM (0) comments

 
Syria: Stage 3
My bus has left, not wanting to wait for my passport issues. I think the driver was trying to tell me I could get on another bus that comes through at 1pm, but I'm not really sure.

The Norwegian and Australian were processed, no problem. I think maybe my mistake was saying I was passing through to Jordan, when he asked where I was staying, because the officer sighed and appeared annoyed, as if I just invalidated his paperwork.

Anyway, I'm sitting in a cavernous immigration hall, at the border of two countries whose languages I don't speak, passport out of my custody, and I'm just waiting. Hopefully, if I wait long enough, someone will come with my passport in hand, telling me I'm all set. Or, more likely, pointing toward the exit and making a shooing motion.

Labels: bar trip

- posted by roger @ 10:41 AM (1) comments

 
Syria: Stage 2
The primary tourist annoyance in Turkey is that people frequently give me wrong times. I figure some of it is language-related, that they get numbers in English mixed up sometimes. But if you tell me the bus is at 8, but it's really 8:30 (or, at 8:30, that we'll be leaving in "five minutes"), that's no innocent mistake.

But in my defense, the man was really hot. You would've said "yes" to his salt and pepper hair, beard, his V-shaped back, and his butt-licious, straight-leg jeans, too.

Labels: bar trip

- posted by roger @ 8:54 AM (0) comments

 
Syria: Stage 1
I've just handed my passport and 10 Turkish lira to the irst man who asked me if I'm going to Aleppo. He says the visa isn't a problem, and that my passport will be on the bus. This is the start of something awesome or comically tragic.

Labels: bar trip

- posted by roger @ 7:32 AM (0) comments

 
Italian Tourists
Why would you be shouting at a site the government forced citizens to relocate from due to structural instability? With obvious cave-ins roped off?

Labels: bar trip

- posted by roger @ 10:19 AM (0) comments

 
A Pass Through Antalya
Hey, Lonely Planet, how about instead of "you can take the same bus back to the bus station, bu take a taxi if you're in a rush," you tell me "you can take the same bus back to the station, but because the route is a loop, what took 30 minutes going into the city will take you an hour coming back out." I mean, I budgeted extra time, but not that much, and I caught my bus with about four minutes to spare.

Speaking of which, this is my first overnight bus of the trip; approximately a week and a half in. Hopefully, my inabiliy to stay awake on buses (and trains, for that matter), will work out in my favor.

I guess it's a Turkish thing to sit with a wide stance and invade personal space, but I'm trying to maintain the high from my first hamam experience (I am going to try to skip meals so I can bathe exclusively at hamams), so I'll try to not sweat it.

The oil massage was probably the most action I'll see these for weeks.

Addendum: he just changed to an empty row. Based on his tone of voice and facial expression, I think he said something along the lines of "let me move over there; no sense being crowded!"

Labels: bar trip

- posted by roger @ 8:50 PM (0) comments

 
Might Join a Cult/Commune
I'm currently at a roadside restaurant, a stopping point for regional buses, about 7km from where I want to be. And no more local buses are running there, so I'm going to have to divert to a town with service still running.

This is what I don't like about the Lonely Planet I'm using. It mentioned bus times, so I knew I'd arrive here too late, but it didn't mmention distances or provide a useable scale map. It's these little things that bother me. And it frequently provides inconsistent information. For example, under City A, it may specify travel times to City B, and return times from City B. But you look under City B, and the duration is slightly different, and the departure times don't match. To the extent possible, I think I'll stick with Let's Go. They're pretty much as replete with information and recommendations, but I also appreciate their "picks." It's good for someone who can be indecisive, to have a default choice when serveral sound appealing.

But I suppose it gives me time to write and kvetch. Oh, and I'm sorry about the transcription delays, but Turkish keyboards vary significantly from the US, so typing is a real chore. The letter i, the period, the apostrophe, and the comma are all located in unexpected places.

I've come here from Faralya, my destination after Selçuk. I stayed at a place called George House, which is remarkably close to what I imagine paradise to be like. The town is located up on a cliff, facing west (making for beautiful sunsets), and while accessible by road, it's not a road that goes anywhere important, so it's quiet and feels remote. George House has a series of bungalows and cabins, and it epitomizes what I think Faralya once was. Before the road was put in, the village had to be self-sufficient, since it had no practical land or sea access to neighboring towns. On the George House property, there is a natural spring, which appears to fulfill all of its water needs. Some has been diverted to its pool, and they have drinking water constantly available, free of charge.

They also grow a fair share of produce; the outdoor dining area is shaded by overgrown grape vines.

Honestly, it's just so peaceful and calm. I kind of wish I'd stayed for another night, but I guess I'm still worrioed about missing out on stuff. Bird in tree.

From George's, there's a path down the side of the cliff. It's incredibly steep, and it requires use of the rope guide to get up and down in spots. At the bottom is Butterfly Valley, home to Jersey butterflies. Unfortunately, their high season is spring, so I missed out on seeing swarms. I asked about the path when I arrived, about 5:30pm, but the manager said it was too late to go down; it takes about 45 minutes in either direction (going down isn't any faster, because of the steepness). He suggested another walk I might take, so I went to drop my things in the cabin. But when I came back, it turned out another guy was just about to go down to the valley (and beach).

Phonetically, his name's Christopher, but he's German, and I'm not really sure how he spells it. About ten years ago, he met some young Turks on a train in Germany, and they told him about Faralya. He decided to visit it, and he's been coming back every year. Most recently, he quit his job back in January, and he's been travelling ever since; he's been at George House for the last few weeks. He's now "helping out" there. Anyway, suffice it to say, he knows the path extremely well (though it's also well marked), so I decided to follow him down. Apparently, he goes down for a swim every day, just a bit before sunset.

This decision turned out to be a mistake. He practically ran down the path, and I'm sure he was slowing down for my benefit. It took us maybe 15-20 minutes to get down. I just gave up on the way back up; I was about to heave a lung out.

The beach was amazing. It was a pebble beach, and the water felt like it was over 75 deg. F. I'm a wimp for cold water, and I went straight in.

I also went down to the valley the next morning, but I instead opted for the small nearby waterfall. It was there I spotted the butterflies. The underside of their wings are a beautiful orange, but they would mostly hide on rocks, with folded wings, exposing only the dingy black and white exterior.

When I got to the falls, I thought it was the destination, but I noticed a rope going up the side, frequently passing through the water itself. Maybe it wasn't the safest decision, but I just had to go up. The view wasn't any more impressive, but I got to climb up a waterfall. Totally worth it--since I am neither dead nor maimed.

I really don't see the beach getting over-developped. There's a campsite (or "pretentious hippies," according to Christopher), but it's pretty much impossible to get to by land, except for the path, and I think getting a road down would be an engineering marvel. There's also a water taxi, but I'm hoping development is practically limited. I'd definitely like to get back there some day. Hopefully the path down improves, though! The rocks are fairly slippery, polished over time by hiker's shoes.

Okay, I'm burning moonlight. My entire purpose of coming down here was to see the Chimera at night, so I better get to it. And now that I'm ina dierent town than planned, the walk's considerably longer. Here's to not getting lost and dying!

Labels: bar trip, Faralya (TR)

- posted by roger @ 9:53 PM (0) comments