Turkey

The king of wishful thinking

The final day of our holiday was (of course) a shopping extravaganza. What more would you expect in the luxury shopping capital of the southern hemisphere? Especially when we were within two minutes walk of one of its largest mall. We started the day in a relaxed fashion with a leisurely breakfast in the hotel before final packing and checking out. And with that we were off to the mall.

Given our markedly different interests – I was likely to spend much of the day looking at shoes while TC would no doubt peruse the multitude of electronic stores on offer. We made a plan to meet back at the entrance for lunch and off I set. My initial plan was to just do a complete circuit of the mall and then go back and look at things. I reassessed that strategy after a detailed look at the centre plans. I guestimated that it probably would have taken the best part of half a day just to do a circuit and by that stage I would have forgotten what I wanted to look at. So my new plan was to look in shops as I went and (gasp) just buy things on impulse if the stood out to me. Even in a shopping metropolis like Dubai I still didn’t have the confidence to enter the likes of Armani, Gucci or even Vivienne Westwood, so I skipped quickly past the grand circle of fashion and on to stores more my speed. Of course these included every shoe store in the place, including Camper, some window shopping in the jewelry stores and a visit to some of the UK chains on offer including Debenhams. Debenhams proved to be a boon – probably the UK’s Target equivalent, they were having a summer clearance sale and I managed to pick up quite a few things in my size, that were far from the usual hideous offerings at bargain basement prices. The rest of my day’s haul included two more pairs of shoes – patent leather Mary Jane’s from Clarks and a pair of Mary Janes from Camper with a gorgeous floral design painted on them.

The mall itself was spectacular with an ice skating rink, several water sculptures and heaps of eating areas. There were also plenty of Emirates wandering about, with many more shopping bags than me. By now we had gotten used to the dynamic of local women and men shopping separately and the fact that most of the shop assistants were Indian or Filipino. (Strange Déjà vu – Dream Theatre. To me Dream Theatre is winter music. Each time I hear this track it reminds me of a 3am solo drive back from seeing Mighty Mighty Bosstones at the snow after my first (pitiful) attempt at snowboarding.)

After our shopping ordeal TC and I met for a quick lunch in the mall before checking out of the hotel and getting a cab to the Etihad bus station. On arrival at the bus station, we were able to check in our bags for the flight through to Sydney which made things really easy when we arrived at the airport in Abu Dhabi. We had a brief look around the duty free section of the airport and then just sat in a café awaiting our long 14 hour flight home. We were exhausted when we got off the plane in Sydney but there was still time enough to pick up a couple of duty free items. We got through Customs quickly and after a brief wait in the domestic Qantas lounge, we were on our way for the quick hop home to Canberra where our own bed awaited.

 

Blue suede shoes

 

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The original plan was to sleep in, wake up to a lazy breakfast and go for a swim before getting dressed up to the nines (according to the dress code) to have high tea at the Burj Al Arab (the iconic Dubai building that looks like a sail). Unfortunately my inability to find a suitable pair of shoes in Turkey had killed that dream. We had managed to procure a pair of pants, a shirt and a pair of dress shoes for TC in Turkey. I had brought the dress and accessories with me from home so all I needed was the shoes. The shoes, my kingdom (or room at The Palace) for some shoes.

As we wandered outside the air-conditioned confines of the hotel into the hot Dubai sun, I was concerned I would be dripping with sweat and completely over shopping by the time we made it to the nearby mall. The planners had thought of that. Between us and the mall was an indoor souk (although it wasn’t really a traditional souk rather what we would usually call and arcade with small stores selling souvenirs and conveniences – a bit like the arcades that take you from street to train stations. But nicer. Much, much nicer.

Concerned that we wouldn’t leave ourselves enough time if we had breakfast at the hotel (or enough room for the splendid afternoon tea we were expecting), we decided to grab some breakfast in the food court at the mall. The closest thing I found was a McDonalds breakfast burger. Curiously, it tasted like chicken and wasn’t exactly the most impressive meal of the trip. It did, however, steel me for the task at hand. The mall was huge so there was no way I was going to have time to even scout the shoe shops first. I took a storm and conquer approach, hitting the shoes shops one by one as I came across them until I found a pair of suitable shoes. There they were in Nine West (about the third or fourth store I entered, a pair of smoky blue leather and suede Mary Jane wedges – a perfect match for the dress I had brought. Mission completed, we vowed to return to the mall on day two. (Baby’s out on Bail – The Amazing Crowns – formerly known as the Amazing Royal Crowns, this tune is a bit blues, a bit hardcore and a whole lot of rockabilly – just the right mix to dance your ass off – perhaps even in my new blue suded shoes?)

After a suitable amount of primping and preening, we caught a taxi to the Burj al Arab. The building is spectacular as you approach it. The sail stands out on the horizon and the blue stripes on its façade are just the right amount of Arabian flourish without being kitsch. The same cannot be said for the interior. I expected a modern iconic building like this to have a simple modern interior but it was a showy kaleidoscopic collection of colour, pattern and copious amounts of gold that seemed completely incongruous with the building’s exterior.

The High tea we had booked was in the Sky Lounge right at the top of the Burj Al Arab. A night club after dark and a destination for decadent high tea during the day. The sky bar is surrounded by windows with a view out over Dubai and the coastline that’s home to the man made palm island. There is only one problem – the sea mist and desert sands made it difficult to see very far. It was still a spectacular view and you could make out the palm just up the coastline.

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We sat in the middle of the room but the floor to ceiling glass meant there was loads of light flooding in and a view out across the ocean (or at least of the sea mist). Comfortable chairs to relax in with our finery and it wasn’t too long before the champagne was poured and we were served a delicious plate of berries and cream to accompany it. Then there was the tea – an incredibly extensive selection – it ran to about five pages. I love a good Earl Grey with afternoon tea so that’s what I chose. TC, who is not a fan of tea, chose a hazelnut iced coffee instead. TC had been concerned that we perhaps should have had lunch in case afternoon tea was a tasty but small portioned affair. He needn’t have worried.

The berries were followed by a slice of beef wellington with a horseradish sauce. Next up , on a tiered platter shaped like the Burj Al Arab were a selection of traditional tea sandwiches – smoked salmon, tuna salad, egg and chives, cucumber; some mini gourmet sandwich rolls – roast beef with caramelized onion and béarnaise, meat loaf with pickle and chicken salad, crème brulee carrot cake, fruit cake, two shortbread; and peteit fours – a tart with orange flavor and crème, chocolate with cream encased in chocolate, a blueberry cream tart with white chocolate, and spiced pineapple on top of a tart. And just in case we were still hungry there was a selection of freshly baked fruit and plain scones served with clotted cream, blueberry jam, lemon jam and strawberry jam flavoured cream. Finally there were chocolates that we couldn’t fit in. The whole selection was scrumptious and while I had my favourites – the roast beef roll and the spiced pineapple tart – that was based on my own tastes rather than the (high) quality of the fare presented to us.

After consuming at least two pots of tea during the afternoon, a restroom stop became an absolute necessity. And as you’d expect with high tea in a five star restaurant in one of the service industry capitals of the world, the very posh toilets included attendants to hand you fluffy towels to dry your hands. A very different experience to the squat toilets in Turkey, where the toilet paper goes in a bin next to the toilet because of the poor plumbing.

When we went to pay the bill, I was presented with a red rose – all part of the service – but a nice surprise nonetheless. When we arrived at the ground floor, the concierge arranged a limousine to for us. The limousine driver stopped at the security gate to allow us to take some pics of the hotel, including snapping one of TC and I in front of the Burj. He also offered us a tour of city but we decided to decline the offer, opting instead to head back to our hotel for a relaxing dip in the pool. The limousine trip cost about twice that of the regular taxis but was a lot more comfy and had much better air-conditioning.

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While it was quite long, the elaborately tiled pool was also fairly shallow so much more suited to a resort vibe than exercise. The Bedouin tent experience from the previous evening had given way to more of a beach cabana vibe, with plenty of attendants to lay out the towels on the pool bed for you. There was a group of Emiratis in the tent next to us, just shooting the breeze. It was incredibly hot so a dip in the pool was just the ticket before heading back to our beautifully appointed room to quite literally chill out. While we were out our laundry had been delivered in much better condition than the rest of our clothes that were forcefully shoved into our backpacks so the zipper would clothes. In contrast the laundry delivery came with our neatly pressed t-shirts on hangers and our folded underwear wrapped in brown paper and tied with a bow like a surprise present. (Asking for it – Hole – one of the best songs about rape or abuse ever written and part of one of the best put together albums of all time – Live Through This.)

After a bit of a rest, we decided to head out to the Indian quarter, where many of the guest workers lived, shopped and ate to see the other side of Dubai. We caught a taxi down to the area where the garment district was supposed to be and we just got the driver to drop us in a random spot and started exploring. We wandered past rows of gold souks, and eventually found what I was looking for – the garment district. Disappointingly, the fabric stores were mostly attached to tailors so it was really about choosing a fabric to have something made rather than seeking out gorgeous fabrics. And a lot of the fabrics were for the Indian guest workers with lots of lolly coloured lace and bright patterns – not really my purview.

We kept wandering with the idea of perhaps finding somewhere to eat although neither of us were really that hungry thanks to our extravagant high tea. We did pass by a sign for the local version of McDonalds which had a variety of vegetarian options advertised including an ice cream cone (1AED), a vege pizza mcpuff (2AED) and a vege supreme burger (3AED). We decided to head towards the river where we hoped to find some riverside restaurants. Alas we were on the wrong side for that. What we found were lots and lots of boats promises river cruises but not a soul to be seen.

As we wandered we got hotter and hotter and by now we were dripping with sweat. We walked for what seemed like miles along the river bank as the signs of life became less and less. Eventually we decided to head away from the riverfront, walking through some historic buildings that looked as though they would be teeming with people but this evening they were deserted as were the roads. Eventually came across taxi and managed to flag it down. By now we were exhausted from the heat and decided the best course of action was to head straight back to the air conditioned comfort of our luxurious hotel room.

 

After a suitable rest time, we decided to have dinner in the hotel’s Thai restaurant. This was an upmarket experience with wine matching and white table cloths with a view of the Las Vegas style fountain between the hotel, Burj Khalifa and Dubai Mall. There was of course a regular fountain display replete with appropriate music and lights. The restaurant was on a pontoon that jutted out into the fountain. The meal lived up to the grandeur of the surroundings and afterwards we enjoyed the later version of the fountain show from the patio outside the room. Then it was time to snuggle up in one of the most comfy beds I have slept in and enjoy the last night of luxury.

Heaven is a (1500 thread count )

Dubai 032After a terrible night’s sleep we packed, checked out and headed for the airport. Turkish airports look like a military installation there are so many uniformed guards with guns. And they watch you like a hawk. After checking in we wandered around for a while, collecting a few more tacky souvenirs. Against my best hope, of course there weren’t any shoes here either. Then we headed for the screening point which is where our day became unstuck

I am usually really good about security stuff. My in-flight toiletry selection lives in a clear plastic zip lock bag, which, along with my laptop is always ready in my hands well before I get to the security point. Tweezers and the like are safely stowed in my hold luggage and the sharpest thing in my bag is a felt tip pen for those pesky incoming passenger cards. TC is equally as vigilant. Unfortunately in our tired state we hadn’t really thought too much about it. Concerned that our bottle of pomegranate syrup (kind of like balsamic vinegar) would break and leak all over everything in our hold luggage, we had put it in TC’s backpack. A logical thought process if you’ve ever watched the baggage handlers out the window of the plane). Unfortunately as it’s classified as a liquid, the screening point guard had a different view.

She confiscated it and it was more like an annoyance than an actual problem. Except for the fact that TC had failed to put something else in his checked luggage. His newly acquired peach knife. Apparently you can’t eat fruit without a good peach knife. All well and good but not where the screening point guard was concerned. She pulled him aside and took his details. Lucky we weren’t planning on coming back to Turkey for a while. I got the impression that it might be part of the conversation next time TC’s passport was scanned at the border. With a bit of luck only in Turkey and not on some world super computer that keeps track of transgressions worldwide. Despite my fears – that was it – they took his details, confiscated the pomegranate syrup and the peach knife and we boarded the plane.

We bade farewell to Turkey, flew back over Iraq to Abu Dhabi and despite the fact we still had a couple of days in Dubai to go, it started to feel like we were on the journey home. Recognising that the glitz and glamour of Dubai is still a draw card for tourists, Etihad provide a free bus to take you from their hub at Abu Dhabi to central Dubai. We took full advantage of the opportunity. As we drove along the dark highway connecting the two Emirates, we could see construction work lit up like a Christmas tree by the roadside. As we got closer to Dubai, the lights got brighter and we could see the new train system that will run beside the highway through Dubai. Like Abu Dhabi, the desert heat is still a feature of the Dubai climate so we took a taxi to our hotel, The Palace, the Old Town. (Heaven is a half pipe – OPM – a silly yet extraordinarily catchy tune)

Like most of Dubai, there was absolutely nothing old about it. It was practically brand new. It was in an area of Dubai that included the Burj Khalifa – the incredibly tall building that looks like a series of cylinders, and the largest of Dubai’s malls – the Dubai Mall. I had booked the hotel for a bit of luxury after our Turkey tour so I was expecting it to be a bit upmarket but I wasn’t quite prepared for the extent of the luxury.

The foyer was a grand marble space, fitted out with exquisite wood detailing and the service was extremely attentive but not intrusive. As we made our way to the check in desk in the smelly travel gear we had been recycling for the past couple of days and our dirty backpacks filled to the brim with clothes needing a good wash, I felt more like a Hollywood celebrity that had just been on safari than a dirty backpacker. After a painless check in we made our way to our room. It was like a palace, two (at least queen sized) beds with beautiful cotton linen and fluffy comfortable comforters. The room was huge and the panel of windows along the side included a large sliding door that opened onto a terrace with a view of the fountain (a copy of the infamous Las Vegas casino fountain) and the Burj Khalifa. All set in beautifully manicured lawns. Back inside, there was a palatial bathroom with a fabulous shower and more marble. And it was the little things. The desk had a trap door that lifted up to reveal a lit makeup mirror. All of this for just over $700 for two nights!

First step was to get some laundry done in order to get us home. The prices, while not as cheap as Turkey, were still cheaper than Australia. Not cheap enough for us to return home with a backpack full of clean clothes so we were a bit selective. Washing sorted and left for housekeeping, we called our friend Suzanne, who was spending her last evening in Dubai on the way home from Italy. We arranged for Suzanne and her travelling companion, Rhianne, to meet us at our hotel for dinner.

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After showing off our luxurious room, we headed to the hotel pool, where the daytime cabanas served as faux Bedouin tents with an extensive mezze menu. Despite being outside, rather than in an air-conditioned restaurant, it was the perfect way to spend a relaxed evening in Dubai to enjoy the start of the last days of our fabulous holiday. Fabulous food, a wonderful atmosphere and great company. And when we finally went to sleep it was a luxurious experience in air-conditioned comfort and an incredibly comfortable bed. (Heaven is a Place on Earth – Belinda Carlisle – sure it’s a sugary pop tune but better than most and reminds me of nightclub adventures in my spotty youth.)

We’ll fight them on the beaches

Pamukkale-Dubai 274Now I’m by no means a student of war history, although thanks to TC our bookshelf would belie that fact. I know very few people who’ve served in a war. None of the relatives that I have ever met have fought in a war. I have never lost anyone in a war. And my Dad who did National service as part of his schooling was pleased that he was “too old for World War II and too young for Vietnam”. Of all the places, I’ve travelled, I’ve never once been minded to visit a monument to war. However, I urge any Australian who visits Turkey to go to Gallipoli – not just so you can experience the ANZAC pilgrimage but rather so you can see the Gallipoli coast and hillside from the Turkish perspective.

We rose early – on our way before 7am and our bus drove onto the ferry for the trip across to the Gallipoli Cove. It was quite a serene trip that early in the morning. We stood outside on the ferry and watched as we headed into shore. Gallipoli has not changed much since that fateful time in 1914, when the Turks won what they call the Gallipoli War. Despite the obvious cash that would come with it, the Gallipoli Peninsula has remained a rough and rugged landscape, peppered only with graves and memorials. Even the gift shops are temporary ramshackle stands. And despite my total lack of interest in the history of war and more particularly the World Wars, even I was moved. Standing on the peninsula looking at the ridiculous task our soldiers had in front of them, the futility and hardship was brought home.

It was early in the morning and our tour group was the only ones there. While this visit was perhaps more poignant for our us, the two other Australian girls and our New Zealand friends, the significance of place wasn’t lost on our wider tour group who haven’t grown up listening top this legend. I have to admit, for the past couple of decades, with the resurgence of ANZAC Day participation at home, I have become disillusioned with the focus of our national identity being tied to this one event. I recognize that Australia Day, referred to as Invasion Day by many fighting for Indigenous rights in our country, is not a shining example of our cultural identity. However, our country’s involvement in a War on the other side of the world, fighting for “Mother England” where the limited number of Indigenous soldiers who fought received no recognition in their lifetime doesn’t really seem like it should be the main focus of our cultural identity either. Having said that, standing on the beach at Gallipoli and wandering through the graves of the fallen, I understood the importance of the camaraderie between the soldiers of these two Commonwealth outposts nestled in the southern hemisphere who watched so many of their friends die here, thousands of miles from home. I was, at that moment, very glad we had chosen to come here in September rather than during the ANZAC day commemorations in April that have now become part of the backpacker trail and lead to the site being littered with rubbish from those who camp here.

As we wandered up the hillside through more graveyards, we came upon the most famous of the Australian graveyards at Lone Pine.  There it stood – the single pine tree that gave the place its name (we Aussies aren’t always that creative in naming places – among the small towns in Australia you will find Paris, Manila, Orange and Come by Chance). A tree was grown near the Australian War Memorial, propagated from seeds from the lone pine. Sadly it had to be cut down a few years ago but fear not – a whole industry has grown up propagating seeds from this one tree and you will probably find them in quite a few Aussie backyards. (Disarm – Smashing Pumpkins – in many ways the Smashing Pumpkins were the soundtrack to my 20s. Not just because I loved their tunes but because of all the bands of the time, they seemed to strike a chord with all of my friends, be a constant presence at parties, moody late night post show record rotations, road trips and just sitting around on a Sunday morning. And they came with less hupe than Nirvana even though in many ways they were cut from the same cloth.)

From Lone Pine we headed to the top of the hill, where a memorial was built to the only allied soldiers to make it to the top during the battle – both Kiwis. Also at the top was the part of Gallipoli that we never hear about – the Turkish memorials and grave sites. Much more structured and looking more like a mausoleum of sorts, there were plenty of whitewashed headstones here too. While the Australian headstones seemed to spring out of grassy fields, this was more like the marble and concrete mausoleums you find in sections of a city cemetery. And surveying it all there is a massive statue of Attaturk.

The top of the hill was much busier than the beach, alive with Turkish tourists visiting the site of one of their most important modern conflicts. This was also the site of the gift shop selling all sorts of unimaginable souvenirs, including a miniature gun that was actually a flick knife and an Attaturk shaped keyring that was also a cigarette lighter. After a brief souvenir stop – despite my love of tack I actually thought this stuff was a bridge too far – we boarded the bus for the final leg of our tour back to Istanbul.

We made a brief stop at a fairly luxe hotel with café while our driver caught up with a friend. It was a good opportunity to stretch our legs and it was a lovely spot but I was a little worried that the Grand Bazaar would be shut by the time we got back to Istanbul and we were flying out the next morning. Having said that Fadhi, our driver had been really good to us for the entire trip and it was only fair that he had half an hour or so to catch up with a friend.

We made one more stop at a Kofte restaurant that he recommended and I have to say it was probably close to the best meal we had in our time here. When in Rome (or some little town on the way to Istanbul)… Of course we had the kofte. It was fabulous and it came with chips! It was quite a while since I had eaten chips and this reminded me quite a lot of my first trip to Finland. There, in Rovaniemi on the Arctic Circle I had, incongruously, enjoyed yet another Turkish delicacy – Doner Kebab meat – on a bed of chips. These chips were on the side but it was fabulous. Our meal also included two of my other favourite things – fresh bread with balsamic vinegar and good quality olive oil, and some of the most delicious rice pudding I had eaten.

After lunch we were all keen to get back to Istanbul as soon as possible. Not because we were sick of each other’s company but because some, like me were keen to hit the Grand Bazaar to do some shopping before flying out the next day. Of course despite the camaraderie of the wonderful tour group and our fabulous guide and driver, it was going to be good to get off the mini bus as well. Once we arrived it was farewell to all and then time to check into the hotel for our last night in Turkey.

TC and I managed to score the honeymoon suite on the top floor. It wasn’t what I’d call fabulous luxury but it was on the top floor. In fact it was kind of a room built on the roof. There was an outdoor sitting area on the roof and what it did provide was a beautiful view out over the Bosphorous.

Once we had checked in and dumped our luggage it was off to the Bazaar to acquire some gifts for those at home and some shoes for me. In years gone by the Grand Bazaar was no doubt the home of some of the most beautiful things on earth. These days it involves rows and rows of tourist tatt, intermingled with a few surprises. I am sure the fabric purveyors across Istanbul and Turkey more broadly, have some fabulous wares at lower prices than the Bazaar but there we were in the Bazaar and I couldn’t help but buy some of the glorious material we found there. I chose some beautiful black and purple brocade. (The Bazaar -The Tea Party – a completely appropriate tune for the setting but more than that. The thing that fascinated me most about the Tea Party on first listen was the incredible symphonyof eastern instruments they built into their soundscapes. And this tune, as much as any embodies the brooding forceful wave of sound that takes you away to places far away and mystical)

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Our flight gets into Abu Dhabi late in the evening and we are having afternoon tea at the Burj al Arab the following day. The dress rules are quite strict and while I have carted an appropriate dress across Turkey, lugging around a pair of shoes for a month for one high tea seemed like overkill.

There was only one problem. No matter how many stores we went into, I couldn’t find a pair of shoes that would fit. Apparently nobody has feet bigger than a size 38 in Turkey. I did find some boots I like in the Grand Bazaar- hand painted like the ones I had seen in a shop window in Antalya.  The sales guy said they were size 40 but there was no way they were even close. Despite my protestations, he took them away to stretch them, which I think he did by heating the leather. They were still painfully tight and after 15 minutes of the stretching, I decided that they still weren’t going to be very comfortable. Of course the sales guys were a bit annoyed when I said no.

We continued on our journey through the Bazaar, collecting tacky gifts, pashminas and a turquoise shell and a crocheted statement necklace. We wandered through a series of leather shops to check out leather jackets for TC and continued along the streets around the Bazaar but alas no shoes.

We visited the local McDonalds to check out the menu. It’s one of the interesting barometers of cultural difference. The huge homogenous American chain makes small changes to ensure its menu remains palatable to the locals. Here that meant an enormous Big Mac with four beef patties and a taco on the menu.

Of course we didn’t want to spend our last night in Turkey eating McDonalds so we kept wandering along the street until we were hauled into one of the restaurants by a tout. We ordered a range of our favourite Turkish food – cheese rolls, crispy chips and kofte – in the relaxed outdoor area of the restaurant. After dinner we took a stroll along the still buzzing street and bought a few more souvenirs to take home. And some baklava.

 

A horse is a horse of course, of course

Pamukkale-Dubai 139The next morning the full glory of the Ottoman house we were staying in came into focus. As I wandered around looking at the architecture I wondered just how many additions this house had over the years. The bathroom, in particular, a slightly rounded room that sat between the hallway and the kitchen definitely appeared to be built after the rest of the house (logically of course as a bathroom would probably have taken a very different form in Ottoman times). The most charming part of the house was of course the upper level terrace (about the size of a lounge room) where we sat in the sun amongst the vines growing, looking down on the town and the ocean in the distance,

Once we packed up and walked all our stuff back up to the top of the hill for the bus to retrieve it, (Despite the best efforts of yesterday’s drivers, the laneways weren’t really designed for motorized transport. We headed back into the hills- our destination? Canakkale, a port town and in terms of tourism mostly just a jump off point for the ferry across to the Gallipoli Peninsula. The drive though was pleasant enough. This is tomato country and the hillsides are littered with greenhouses for both local consumption and export. This part of the world forms part of Europe’s food basket. And as the Turkish economy is not part of the Eurozone, one imagines the food can be produced here much more cheaply. Having said that, the Turks certainly consume a lot of tomatoes. They are a mainstay in Turkish breakfast for a start.

On the way we stopped at the only ancient ruin in Turkey that I had heard of before embarking on this trip. In my defence, I’m not really a scholar of ancient history and the story of Troy does involve a big thing*

But more on that later. Our first stop was at another roadside buffet. And the reason I mention Troy is that it was really the reason the place was here. And as you’d expect from a tourist driven eatery, it also sold quite the array of tacky souvenirs (which of course I find thoroughly intriguing). And this place had all bases covered – as it was on the way to both Troy and Gallipoli. I bought a (crudely) handcrafted Trojan horse calendar – the kind of thing you’d find at a school fete and pay 50c for and TC purchased a book on Gallipoli. The lunch itself was unspectacular but it was a good exercise in people watching. There were quite a lot of older Turkish people about. (Koka Kolanisation – H-Block 101 – the ultimate anthem for anti-globalisation activists. And a great song from one of Melbourne’s best ever punk bands. Full of old skool punk ethos. Their ode to Pauline Hanson is a must.)

We bundled back in the bus and headed a short distance down the road to Troy and it’s great big wooden horse, quite obviously constructed in the 70s (during the glory days of the big thing). It was even painted mission brown. Some serious things happened at troy and not to denigrate the memory of that but really the most impressive thing about Troy was the horse. Of course as a big-thing-o-phile I couldn’t help but climb up inside it. Almost all of my fellow travelers joined me for the obligatory group photo on 25 different cameras.

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After that we wandered about the ruins that were really quite unimpressive in comparison to the other ones we had seen. The most interesting part was that there were several layers of ruins here because Troy had existed over several ages due to its position on a hillside looking over one of the most easterly parts of Turkey’s Mediterranean coastline. Troy had been uncovered a long time before the other ruins when archaeological digs were more an exercise in rip and run than preservation and consequently they had been stripped bare of anything significant and left to the elements to be worn down and overgrown. Apparently they were pillaged by a German in the 1800s. And it doesn’t look like there’s been much investment or effort in their upkeep since. Having said that, it is still worth a visit if ancient history (or big things) is your bag. Just make sure you do the circuit in the other direction and come here before Ephesus and Pamukkale.

At least there wasn’t some naff attempt at pageantry to recreate the Trojan horse legend. I can think of a few places in the world where that kind of strategy might be used to prop up a decaying tourist attraction.

A few hours later we arrived in Cannakele and went for a stroll through the town. Actually TC and I were doing a bit more than strolling. We were still without appropriate clothing for our High Tea in Dubai. TC had been furnished with a fab linen shirt and leather shoes but was still lacking a pair of suitable trousers. The ones we had bought in the market turned out to be way too small. We found a suitable pair. I on the other hand was searching for shoes. To no avail.

We had arranged with our tour group to meet with them and our guide and driver for a last supper at a local seafood restaurant by the water. We opened with some traditional starters – I had beans and TC fried calamari of course. Then for mains – sea bass for me and salmon for TC, traditionally grilled.

Then at the insistence of Mutlu, our guide, we embarked on yet another Turkish tradition that was very similar to their Greek neighbours – Raki. Raki is basically the Turkish version of Ouzo and, thankfully, the aniseed flavor is a little more subdued. It was great just hanging out with the group on our last night together. This was the first time I had been on a tour – previously all my travel was self planned and organised, some of it solo – or done for a specific occasion, like a Bali wedding for example.  I felt incredibly blessed on still my only tour to date that I was surrounded by such interesting, likable and generous folks. My fellow travelers and our tour guide and driver would be welcome guests in my home if they were ever to make the (long for most) journey to our part of the world.

We had a walk along harbor after dinner and of course there was ice cream to be had. As always at TC’s suggestion. It was then that we came across one of the first historical monuments that actually resonated with me. It turns out Gladiator was largely filmed in Cannakkale. After this little revelation we walked back to the hotel and got some zzzs before our dawn awakening – perhaps as it should be for a visit to Gallipoli. (Straight to Hell – The Clash – this wasn’t one of the two tunes that got me addicted to The Clash (the very 80s Rock the Casbah and the fan anthem London Calling) but nevertheless it’s the one that’s more pften than not stuck on repeat in my mind with the husky vocals of one Mr Joe Strummer – there are worse things to have clogging your synapses).

*a tacky cultural icon way bigger than the thing it represents and in modern times (i.e. in Australia) generally made from fibreglass

There’s more to Ottomans than putting your feet up

Pamukkale-Dubai 182Next morning we were on the road again. This time on our way to Ayvalik but with a couple of little detours. First stop was a leather goods factory where, apparently, they produce leather jackets for the fashion industry. First we sat and watched a fashion parade, which felt a lot sleazier than I was lead to believe from Gossip Girl and my plethora of fash mags. After that we could go and buy the discounted jackets – although not really discounted enough for me. I found a coat with Burberry lining (one presumes not counterfeit given the price tag of several hundred dollars) but it wasn’t available in my size. The extremely pushy sales girl kept bringing me alternatives in my size that were boxy zip up the front style jackets that made me look like the size of a house and didn’t look anything like the trench style jacket I was originally looking at. Eventually after an extremely forceful refusal, I managed to get out of there despite the sales girl almost insisting I couldn’t leave without a purchase.

Next stop was an onyx shop. There were some absolutely stunning jewelry pieces here – also outside my price range but the lovely man who ran the place gave us a demonstration of working stone on a lathe. Once he turned the piece, he was willing to give it to anybody who could hold it – it was hot but years of manual jobs have hardened my hands and I could – I got to take it with me even though it will probably add half a kilo to my pack weight. TC also found something – a mini mortar and pestle.

Our accommodation for the night was to be in an old Ottoman guest house on the hillside in the town. Located in one of the winding cobblestone laneways not wide enough for the bus (or probably many vehicles, we grabbed our gear and headed down until we came to it. It was a cute little house over a couple of floors – the bedrooms were mostly upstairs and all were quite unusual. There was a loft room and the room TC and I were in had the longest double bed in the world. You could top and tail in it and probably only your feet would be touching. But the best part was the terrace – off the hallway to the bedrooms it opened out into a spectacular terrace with views over the town – this was where we would eat breakfast (Turkish of course) in the morning.

From there it was off to explore – to wander the streets – there were some awesome buildings (and even more awesome doors in the cobblestoned streets of this town. It was also market day where the square was filled with a cacophony of produce almost as impressive as, yet much more chaotic than the market in Barcelona. The surrounding laneways that snaked themselves up and down the hill and a few streets back from the waterfront were littered with shops and stalls selling all manner of wares – a much more chaotic version of paddy’s markets,  heaving with people. There was produce, there were clothes, there was fabric, there were handicrafts and of course there were rugs. TC and I wandered about occasionally winding up somewhere we had seen before and had a grand old time exploring the market. We even left with some goods – a comfy cotton shirt and chinos for TC to wear to afternoon tea although the pants turned out to be waaaay too small, and a red cotton embroidered maxi cover up for me for after swimming.

During our market jaunt we took time out at a waterfront bar for a beer with a few of the travelling crew, including our new kiwi friends. It was delightful sitting by the harbour and watching the world go by. This particular market was supposed to be renowned for fabric – I found the stores at the last minute but didn’t really find anything that particularly took my fancy.

It was fun just wandering the streets exploring – there were people on scooters zipping by and at one point a mini trying to get up the tight laneway and zipping around corners with no indicators, barely making it between the buildings. There were dogs wandering everywhere as well – even more here than we had seen in other places on our journey. (I Danced – Violent Femmes – still one of the best things to come out of the 80s. Lucky for us the quality seems to have continued on.)

After a rest back in our room, we headed out with our new friends for dinner at a restaurant/bar on the harbor. It was beautiful sitting there and watching a glorious sunset over the Mediterranean (even though my photography skills failed to really capture it.  TC ordered fried calamari (of course) and I had a calamari casserole which had way too much (white) cheese in it for me to enjoy it. We got some cheese rolls and potato croquettes as sides. It wasn’t the most delectable dinner we had enjoyed but it was a relaxed and enjoyable evening. After dinner we took a stroll around the marina area, looking at the shops before heading back to the hotel.

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The tiled floors of history

Pamukkale-Dubai 021After (yet another) Turkish breakfast, we piled back in our cramped little minibus and headed to the big ancient history attraction in Turkey – Ephesus. Given that my main interest in history lies in 20th century political, pop cultural and design history, the only thing that came to mind about Ephesus before this trip was the biblical references (Paul’s letter to the Ephesians) buried deep in the synapses of my brain from my catholic school background.

We arrived at Selcuk in front of what was to be our hotel here – The Canberra Hotel (named after the capital of Australia and my home town). We went upstairs and started unpacking our bags only to get a call from the front desk – apparently we were at the wrong hotel. Another gap group was due to stay here and apparently the paperwork got mixed up somehow. We repacked and moved to the right hotel.

TC and I decided to go exploring once we had unpacked. Armed with our map we headed toward the marked tourist bureau, which was unhelpfully closed for a couple of hours for lunch. We got our bearings and wandered to what was an open field in the middle of the town with a column that rose out of it into the sky – believed to be a column from the ancient temple of Artemis. We continued on along the road to a café where we stopped for a drink before venturing on up the hill to the ruins of the St John Basilica, built in the 6th century on the site where John the apostle is believed to be buried. The ruin, while not as spectacular as some we had seen was well worth a visit. The fact that it remains intact and receives so many visits each year is a hallmark of the contradictions of Turkey and its place as the gateway between east and west – a secular country, where more than 90 per cent of the population identify as Muslim hosts hundreds of thousands of orthodox Christians from the Eastern European nations to its north and struggles to cope under the burden of Muslim refugees from the south. And because of its turbulent history, more than most nations in this part of the world monuments to different faiths and societies built centuries apart sit happily within a few kilometers of each other and ensure a steady stream of tourists.

From the basilica, we wandered through town to find what was left of the Roman aqueduct and went in search of lunch – pizza it was – mine was Hawaiian but for some unfathomable reason it came without pineapple! A Hawaiian pizza without pineapple is a ham pizza. The thing only has two toppings to begin with (unless you are American and for some unknown reason think you can eat pizza without cheese.

After lunch we wandered through town – I was looking for shoes – a requirement to meet the dress code for our high tea in Dubai at the end of our trip. As the Turkish are renowned for their leather goods, I was sure I would have no problem but so far nothing that took my fancy. However, I did find a pair for TC – also required for the High tea. Once we’d done a bit of a loop around, we really ran out of shops to visit – just in time too because it was time to jump back in the bus and head to Ephesus. (Like a Rolling Stone – Bob Dylan – one of his most famous tunes and there’s no doubt about the reason why. Even those who complain about his nasal delivery will listen. As they should. I discovered Dylan by accident and the first of his tunes I ever heard – God on our side – made me think just like every other song he has ever penned.)

If you only ever see one ancient roman ruin, make it Ephesus. Sure the Coliseum in Rome is huge and kind of exciting when you think of what actually happened there but Ephesus is exquisite, fabulously preserved and a much better picture of daily roman life. From the time you venture in the gates, there are things to see, including roman latrines. The biggest problem is the crowds. There are so many people here, it can be hard to move around and get close enough to see everything you want to see. It is worth persevering.

I have written earlier in my ramblings about this trip that in Turkey, there is often an extra charge to see a special part of a ruin or museum. Such was the case at Ephesus and like everywhere else in Turkey the extra outlay is well worth it. Not once was I disappointed after handing over extra TL. Especially here where the extra charge is to get you in to see some wonderfully well preserved Roman terrace houses that were discovered in the last decade or so beneath the volcanic earth. With a protective room so they are prevented from decay, the artifacts are being painstakingly restored. Inside there is a labyrinth of walkways and glass viewing platforms so you can see the terrace houses without causing the same kind of damage that has ravaged other ruins over the years. As you walk through there are many stunning pieces but the most exquisite was the mosaic tiled floor, beautifully bright and preserved under tonnes of earth.  These weren’t castles or palaces. Sure they were obviously prominent members of Roman society but it showed how people outside of emperors and princes lived thousands of years ago.

From the terraces we continued down the Roman road that guided you through the ruins to one of Turkey’s most photographed ancient ruins – the reconstructed Library façade. When we got there, staff were setting up for some kind of function in front of the library. It was a bit unfortunate because it made it hard to drink in the ambience. Not that you probably could have anyway – there were so many people around. After taking in the awe of it – next to the terraces, it looked so grand it could have been a temple. From there we went to the ridiculously large amphitheatre – unfortunately quite a large part of it was closed but there was still enough opportunity to discover the grand scale of it. We ran into our guide Mutlu as we exited the amphitheatre and wandered off further down the road. It just started to rain as we wandered past the obligatory gift shops and kiosk to wait for the bus.

That evening we all decided to meet in town at a café style restaurant – we ate in the outdoor seating area on the mall and enjoyed a good roundup of mezze plates including cheese rolls and, for the first time in turkey, zucchini fritters. TC, who by now was looking a little bit mountain man, had been threatening for days to have a straight razor shave. There was a still open barber (no one in Turkey closes if they think they can make a buck) right across from where we were sitting. So he did it. Complete with burning off of the ear and nose hair. They didn’t even nick him and I’m pretty sure it was the cleanest, closest shave he has ever had. It cost only a few TL but TC gave them about five times what they asked for as a tip.

After dinner, I wandered down the road where I found the coolest hand painted pair of boots, something I had always wanted after I attempt[ted to hand paint my own boots with limited success. These were a pretty basic construction so would have needed some insoles to wear but alas they didn’t have them in my size.

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The white cliffs of…

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As usual we had to be on the bus quite early so there was no time to enjoy a leisurely English breakfast in one of the guesthouses on the waterfront. So we had Turkish breakfast in our hotel and set out for the ancient spa town of Pamukkale. It was quite some distance and so we stopped for a late lunch at a wedding function centre on the way. Looking like it was still done up for a wedding, resplendent with chair covers with bows, it did have a pretty impressive bufe (buffet) – a selection of kebap, lots of different salads, pickled vege and just about anything else you could think of in that vein. It was however, pretty expensive by Turkish standards, especially the kiosk. Mentos were 2 Euros! I’m pretty sure they are less than 2 Euros in the eurozone.

We arrived at Pamukkale in the late afternoon, which turned out to be the perfect time. Most of the day tripping tourists were clearing out but we still had plenty of time to look around. Apart from the amphitheatre at Kas, and the Basilica Cistern in Istanbul, these were really our first pre-Byzantine ruins. And they were spectacular. The first stop was the museum where countless artifacts found on the site were preserved. Often the artifacts you find in these kinds of museums are either tools for hunting or objects of everyday life such as plates, cooking pots and eating utensils. Pamukkale though was a spa town, a place of pampering so there were some quite unusual artifacts to be had including manicuring tools. The gold head dresses and magnificent jewelry also emphasized this was a playground for the rich and powerful in Roman society.

The ruins themselves were also pretty spectacular – rows of what were once latrines still stood, as did columns from many of the buildings, There were more amphitheatres and beautifully preserved ruins and we could have kept walking for miles and seen more. But despite how impressive they were, it’s not the ruins that make Pamukkale unique. It’s the calcite cliffs where this place truly wows you.

As we wandered towards them and looked down to the modern town of Pamukkale, the view was spectacular. Much of the area is now closed off to protect the cliffs but it is still a spectacular vista. And, recognising that people want to touch and feel, there is still one large pool at the top of the cliffs that you are able to walk in. The only catch is you aren’t allowed to wear shoes. This may sound like a simple thing but the calcite cliffs are not like chalk, which is what I picture when I think of calcium after getting scarred for life by Mrs Marsh in the Colgate ads. The cliffs are actually more like the calcium on your teeth – hard and smooth for the most part but with sharp jagged edges that really hurt when they get you. Having said that, I wasn’t going to let that stop me so I ventured in at least a little way – Not sure I really needed to be wearing board shorts though. In order to enforce the no shoes rule, there was what we would describe as a cross between a ranger and a life guard (although it’s unlikely anyone older than five would drown in the pool – the water only came to mid calf. This guy’s sole job was to blow a whistle and direct people trying to walk in with shoes to get out. Sadly nobody really seemed to pay attention to him (or the signs).

It was then that we realised just how perfect the timing of our visit really was. The sun had just started to set and the lighting was spectacular as it disappeared behind the cliffs, reflecting across the water and throwing off all kinds of colour across the calcite shelves. It was a spectacular sight and I highly recommend making sure you visit at the end of the day to catch this spectacle. Not many people actually stay in Pamukkale when they come here so the place is actually quite empty at that kind of day.

After a million photographs, we wandered up to the top of the hill to what was the original spa in this spa town. There was a fee to get in but since it was so late in the day, the attendant let us in for the kids’ price. Surrounded by cafes and those offering beauty treatments – fish pedicure – no thanks – the original thermal spring was still there, even if a little dilapidated. Columns that had fallen into the rock pool during one of the many earthquakes that ravaged this area over the centuries laid there where they had fallen, growing algae and moss. Despite the algae blooms TC and I decided to take a dip in the ancient pond, sliding over the top of ancient columns and under the bridges constructed by the modern day owners of this attraction, all the while keeping our head above water so its healing powers didn’t make us sick instead. After that it was off to the gift shop where I purchased (of course) a snow globe. (Get Out of This – Dinosaur Jr. A band that was swirled up in the cacophony of endless gigs that defined my youth, Dinosaur Jr was a staple but not a standout. Many years on and they have proved themselves to be worthy of more of my time.)

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After a brief pit stop at our hotel, we joined many of our fellow travelers for dinner at a local café where we sat around a low table sheesha style and enjoyed another serve of my second favourite Turkish street food – gozleme. The café was a haphazard place with stuff people had left behind on their travels adorning the walls – the kind of place you could imagine as a staple on the backpacker trail. Beers and gozleme and a stop for ice cream before we wandered back down the hill to our hotel and an early night.

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Postcard Perfect

After our relaxed morning it was back on the bus and off to the pretty white washed town of Kas. It really did feel like we were in Greece, which probably makes sense. Kas is the jumping off point for ferries out to the Mediterranean islands surrounding Turkey, including a couple of Greek islands popular for renewing Turkish visas.   We checked into her hotel which had a little balcony. The Turkish coast, especially around Kas, is quite hilly and the hotel, while just off the main coastal road, was also part way up a hill. Unfortunately the view from our balcony was mostly of the hotel next door.

Once checked in, we went for a wander. Kas is overflowing with picture postcard appeal. Of course that and the ferry wharf mean it is also very touristy. Having said that, by all accounts, it is more authentically Turkish than other coastal resort towns, especially Bodrum. Kas may have a few places offering traditional English breakfast (which we didn’t have the time to experience) but there are so many English (bogans) in Bodrum for a cheap beach holiday that you can actually buy things there with British pounds.

After a short walk down to the harbor, Dan and I decided to wander up one of the hills towards the ocean to find the town’s (Roman) amphitheatre, really one of the first quintessentially Roman artifacts so far on our trip. Kas is essentially a harbor without white sandy (or largely even stoney) beaches. What became apparent as we wandered toward the amphitheatre is that most of the access to the ocean is private, in the same way it is in many areas around Sydney harbor. Many of the guest houses were advertising both English breakfast and day passes for ocean access.

We walked up the hill through some bushland to reach the amphitheatre, which was being restored. It was a simple, yet quite tall structure consisting of a semicircular arrangement of stone stepped seats around a small circular stage area at the bottom. The most striking thing though was the view from the top over the ocean and the town. The entertainment would have to be pretty spectacular to distract you from the view.

After our adventure to the amphitheatre, we wandered back into the town to have a look through the souvenir and craft shops and drink in the atmosphere of the quaint little village. In contrast to the souvenirs and wares available in most of the places we had so far visited, the multitude of craft shops in Kas were more of the artisan variety than the homespun traditional crafts we had seen so far. There were spectacular photos, frames, and for a jewelry lover, it was heaven. Turkey, like Bali, has a focus on silver and there are some spectacular silversmiths in Kas. I found an absolutely beautiful hand crafted silver necklace, shaped like a sail with a graduated blue stone inlay. After seeing how much I admired it, TC decided to buy it for me.

Of course, as Kas is a tourist destination, in between the artisans, there are a wealth of stores selling fake designer handbags and the like. Firstly I’m not really a handbag queen and I’m also not particularly label conscious. I’d much prefer to find an unusual handbag in an op shop than own a Berkin. When it comes to shoes on the other hand, it’s fair to say that half my collection is branded but a large part of that is the quality of design, materials and workmanship. I don’t really see the point in knock-offs. (I Want to Break Free – Queen. One of the true supergroups lead by the ultimate rockstar. Everybody knows Queen and their huge roster is ubiquitous. For this and many other reasons, I have never understood why they have never achieved the legendary status of many of their peers. And this has a stellar video clip as well.)

We hooked back up with our tour group for a dinner at an obvious tourist spot by the harbor. Outdoor dining in a whitewashed courtyard. Our tour guide Mutlu and driver Fadhi joined us for dinner and the menu offered plenty of options including quite a few for our new non-meat eating Canadian friends. Travelling and eating out with vegetarian friends is an enriching experience. You get to try menu options that while appetizing, may slip further down your priority list of things to try while dining with a mob of carnivores.  Having said that I chose the garlic prawns and calamari – fish and seafood is a quintessential part of a Turkish dining experience – but preceded with some excellent meze – humus, artichoke with yoghurt and dill and fruit. As is usual for TC, he couldn’t resist the idea of ice cream after dinner so we wandered across to the park in front of the harbor for a treat.

 

Mediterranean adventure

Istanbul 340Apparently a Mediterranean overnight boat stay is a popular feature on the Turkish tourist trail. We pulled into the harbor there were at least 15 or 20 boats lined up. Most were the same as the one we boarded. A flat bed motorboat with seats around the edge, a table and benches for eating in the centre of the boat and a hard cover over all. The top deck had canopies draped across it – it was where we were to sleep. There were toilets in the bowels of the boat and you could go to the front for ocean views and the back to swim. There are plenty of similar party boats all over the world. The pirate boat in Canberra comes to mind, although this one is more open.

On our way out into the inlet where we would anchor for the night, we passed by the ruins of a submerged ancient city near Kekova Island and then pulled up near an ocean cave. We could swim off the boat and swim straight into the cave which was an awesome experience. The water was very still – a lot like inlets in Australia, such as Brunswick Heads, but the landscape was less Sandy and more like that you would find in a river valley.

A bit further along the inlet, we stopped to climb to the top of the bank to visit the ruins of an old castle.  As we wound our way up the hill on what was clearly a well trodden path, we weaved our way through stalls and shop selling souvenirs and refreshments like so many other stalls on our travels. Clearly these relied though on the boat trippers to stop. At the top, you got a spectacular view, prompting one of the girls in our group to strike a Titanic pose. Our two energetic American friends meandered down the hillside to see the ancient tombstones below. After a group shot, we wandered back down the hill to our waiting boat (via a couple of the shops and stalls) and set sail for our overnight mooring spot.  When we arrived, it was time for more swimming. If you are intending to visit Turkey, make sure you do it in the spring, summer or early autumn. There are plenty of other places in the world to see snow and turkey doesn’t have that much to begin with.  Swimming in the Mediterranean, though and sleeping out on the ocean (kind of) under the stars is an experience.

There were soft gentle currents but the only evidence of this was the hot and cold patches of water below the surface. The Mediterranean is so salty that it is great for just floating away (mid and body). And as floating is my standard state of being in water (even in a chlorinated pool) it was always going to be easy to float here. The interesting part was that I floated vertically. I just held my arms out flat in front of my body and didn’t have to do anything to stay afloat. While we all lazed about in the water, our American friends swam ashore and did a bit of exploring and our hosts (the sailors of our boat and our guide Mutlu and driver Fardi prepared our dinner – fresh, grilled fish with eggplant and rice. Given my stomach situation, I thought I was probably best to stick with the veges and rice and forgo the fish. The interesting thing on the boat was the way they poured the tea. As mentioned previously, tea is a staple of Turkish culture. Here they had a two tier teapot with two spouts, the larger bottom section water that was kept at the boil, the top section was extremely strongly brewed tea. You pour from the top and add water from the bottom pot to taste. (Fisherman’s Daughter – The Waifs – The Waifs aren’t one of those bands that grab your attention at first but once you see them live, you never look back.)

The only two other Australians on our journey, two uni students from Melbourne, introduced us to Monopoly with playing cards – a great travel alternative to the full game (and also a much quicker way to play). When it was time for bed, we clambered on to the top of the boat where our bedding was all laid out for us with a couple of sheets acting as a shade cloth to protect us from the morning sun. I apologised in advance for my snoring and drifted off to sleep although I woke up swiftly in the morning with the sun.

The other water babies and I jumped in for a quick dip after we woke and then it was time for yet another traditional Turkish breakfast – tomato, cucumber, white cheese, bread, honey. We then took off for another sheltered cove and more swimming. Some of the strong fit swimmers headed to the shore but I was content just to float around as before. Eventually once we’d had enough (I was the last one out of course), we took a group photo and headed back to the dock to meet our bus.

 

After a short drive to a beachside café, it was time for more swimming – this time off a pebbled beach. Except it was more of a stony beach. While a stony beach saves in the sand in your swimmers, walking across the stones is a whole lot more painful than hot sand and you can’t really run to get to the water quicker. Once you were in, you weren’t really tempted to get out gain very quickly. We floated around and chatted for a good couple of hours, without getting at all sunburnt. The Mediterranean sun is a lot milder than the Australian sun. At one point I felt something bite me. It turns out I wasn’t the only one but mine was just a quick touch up by a fish of some kind. One of our Canadian friends copped a bit more serious bite. As you’d expect with a beach made of stones, there were wooden sun lounges along the foreshore but most had seen better days. After our swim we clambered back across the rocks and had lunch in the local café thanks to our host Uncle Bruce.  It was really lovely sitting at a table under the trees. It really did feel like we were in the Mediterranean. (I Want Some – The Beastie Boys – can’t have a road trip without the Beastie Boys. They provided the soundtrack to many of mine including an epic jaunt to Dungog many years ago.)