I have a bad night’s sleep. I am risen by the sound of Meg puking outside her hut a couple of doors down. It is not alcohol overindulgence, but probably a bit of dodgy chicken from dinner last night. Both Belgian Sam and Louise have some problems too.
Today we drive towards the Ihlara Valley and bush camp. On the way, we see an upturned 18 wheeler left to decay. I guess they don't have the AA here.
Himalayas, Tibet
Everest covered in cloud just over my head
Day twenty eight - 29 August 2009 - Olympos, monopoly monotony
I really shouldn’t have drunk anything last night. It has merely prolonged my hangover.
An Oasis Odyssey bus (another overland company), turns up at our hostel. It has only 4 young ladies on board, so this prompts some attention from a section of our group and some reflection on my part that I may be on the wrong trip....
The human debris of the previous night spends the day scattered around the pensyions in the hostel courtyard.
Later in the day, I suggest a game of monopoly to pass the time, but quickly regret it and make sure to go rapidly bankrupt. The only fun is trying to figure out when Meg has cheated.
An Oasis Odyssey bus (another overland company), turns up at our hostel. It has only 4 young ladies on board, so this prompts some attention from a section of our group and some reflection on my part that I may be on the wrong trip....
The human debris of the previous night spends the day scattered around the pensyions in the hostel courtyard.
Later in the day, I suggest a game of monopoly to pass the time, but quickly regret it and make sure to go rapidly bankrupt. The only fun is trying to figure out when Meg has cheated.
Day twenty seven - 28 August 2009 - Olympos, bed
Oh dear. I am deeply hungover. I get up at 6 a.m. in a drunk panic that I have lost my wallet and search around the pensyion that we were hanging around the previous night. Eventually I find it underneath my clothes next to my bed, which I climb back into to start my hangover.
I am awoken at about midday with the Scottish Widow Helen shouting up to me that it is my last chance to get up. I have missed a group truck clean, which I don’t actually recall being told will take place, although Dave had indicated that some such was taking place when he got up while I was denying my existence under a pillow.
I see some very embarrassing photos from the previous night....
I go to the beach. It is 3 TL to see the ruins of ancient Olympos which you walk through to get to the beach. There is also a fresh water spring that runs right into the sea which means you feel hot and cold flushes when swimming near the end of the spring.
I then go back to bed.
In the evening, I am subject to a kangaroo court for missing the truck clean. The whole truck group act as a jury, which neither I, nor JC acting as my representative, get to vet in any way. JC had assumed his position as my defense without actually consulting me. He's going for a plea bargain, while I contradict him with several mitigating circumstances. I question the neutrality of the jury, and jury duties are briefly assigned to a couple of girls not from our group who are at the bar. However, after I bribe them with a couple of beers, their 'not guilty' verdict is not accepted by Pete, our often ballistic Scouse retired headmaster who has been appointed the judge. My insistence on being not technically guilty due to negligence in keeping me informed only serves to enhance my sentence. I am sentenced to cleaning the truck toilets for the first week in India after reacting negatively to having my guitar confiscated for a month.....
Meanwhile, Stephen, our retired solicitor from Yorkshire, is not at all happy about the mockery that has been made of his profession.
I drown my sorrows.
I am awoken at about midday with the Scottish Widow Helen shouting up to me that it is my last chance to get up. I have missed a group truck clean, which I don’t actually recall being told will take place, although Dave had indicated that some such was taking place when he got up while I was denying my existence under a pillow.
I see some very embarrassing photos from the previous night....
I go to the beach. It is 3 TL to see the ruins of ancient Olympos which you walk through to get to the beach. There is also a fresh water spring that runs right into the sea which means you feel hot and cold flushes when swimming near the end of the spring.
I then go back to bed.
In the evening, I am subject to a kangaroo court for missing the truck clean. The whole truck group act as a jury, which neither I, nor JC acting as my representative, get to vet in any way. JC had assumed his position as my defense without actually consulting me. He's going for a plea bargain, while I contradict him with several mitigating circumstances. I question the neutrality of the jury, and jury duties are briefly assigned to a couple of girls not from our group who are at the bar. However, after I bribe them with a couple of beers, their 'not guilty' verdict is not accepted by Pete, our often ballistic Scouse retired headmaster who has been appointed the judge. My insistence on being not technically guilty due to negligence in keeping me informed only serves to enhance my sentence. I am sentenced to cleaning the truck toilets for the first week in India after reacting negatively to having my guitar confiscated for a month.....
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| in the dock |
Meanwhile, Stephen, our retired solicitor from Yorkshire, is not at all happy about the mockery that has been made of his profession.
I drown my sorrows.
Day twenty six - 27 August 2009 - to Olympos, discovery of Happy Cappy
John didn’t get back until late at night. He wondered off to a number of bars by himself. He comes back with a present for Tipperarian Hughie, who never lets an opportunity to answer a question pass by: a t-shirt proclaiming ‘Fuck Google, ask Me!’. We are not sure if Hughie sees the irony.
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| our Olympos accommodation |
Almost as soon as we arrive, a large group of us settle down around one of the tables in the elevated booths (‘pensyions’) that can fit 10 to 15 people for some drinks. I discover a drink called ‘Happy Cappy’, which is basically Vodka, Coconut syrup and fruit juice. A quiet night in ensues......
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| having a rest in the pensyion with the gang |
Day twenty five - 26 August 2009; Oludeniz, Blue Lagoon and not entirely traditional dancing in the bar
Meg, Gaz, John, Caroline and myself went swimming in the Blue Lagoon. We were able to walk a long way out, but there is a sudden cliff in the surface, and the water becomes quite deep. There are pontoons along the beach shores to rest on, which we take advantage of before John and Caroline and myself swim out to gateway to the Sea.
In the afternoon, people disappear off into town and I stay at the campsite alone. John is there by himself for a while, but wonders off to town eventually too. After a while, a dance troop dressed in not especially traditional garb come on the entertain a fairly sparse crowd in the bar area. Very energetic they are too, and not bad scenery. The dancers have a fondness for short skirts, skin tight leotards, thigh high boots and leopard print, and I suppose there is something for the ladies too....
Day twenty four - 25 August 2009, Oludeniz on a boat
I am not feeling very bright today, and nor are JC and a few others I could mention. The other John, who from now on will be referred to as Just John, spends the whole day lying down on the deck of the boat that we hired for the whole truck load. Today is Jen's birthday, so it's her party too.
It turns out to be the best way to spend 20TL each that anybody can think of. The sea is crystal clear blue and we travel around various deep water coves, taking turns to dive off the boat at each stop. We stop at the island of St Nicholas, Santa's real grotto, but nobody bothers to investigate the ruins on shore as we are enjoying ourselves too much in the sea. The boat has some flip flops and masks, and looking down we can see pools of fish swimming about 15ft below the surface.
Myself and JC do a water float ride off the back of a motor boat. A couple on another float recognise us from the karaoke the previous night and say we were the most entertaining part of their evening.
One cove we visit towards the end features a cold fresh water spring which makes a strange contrast in the warm Turkish sea. It also features some high rocks we can climb. Gaz, Meg and myself do some ‘tombstoning’, ie diving off these rocks. Gaz keeps moaning about his footing and only does one at about 25ft, the coward. Myself and Meg decide to go one louder at about 40ft. She goes first and loses her bikini top underwater, but she is able to re-adjust before she comes up. By now the boat’s engines have started up and people are shouting at me that we are ready to go. This, and the fact that Meg had already done it (I can’t let a girl look the bravest can I?) leads me to take a quick plunge. If I stayed to think about it too long I don’t think I would have done.
After the boat trip, Rhi, Caz, Belgian Sam, John & Tracy, the latter two of whom seem to be growing closer by the day despite denials on at least one party's side, and I gather at the camp site bar for cocktails, while a fresh roast lamb turns on a spit by our truck. I really should know better, because I am asleep in my tent by the time 'Larry' is served up. I do, however, wake up in the early hours of the following morning to find some people still sat in the cushioned seats at the beach bar area.
It turns out to be the best way to spend 20TL each that anybody can think of. The sea is crystal clear blue and we travel around various deep water coves, taking turns to dive off the boat at each stop. We stop at the island of St Nicholas, Santa's real grotto, but nobody bothers to investigate the ruins on shore as we are enjoying ourselves too much in the sea. The boat has some flip flops and masks, and looking down we can see pools of fish swimming about 15ft below the surface.
Myself and JC do a water float ride off the back of a motor boat. A couple on another float recognise us from the karaoke the previous night and say we were the most entertaining part of their evening.
One cove we visit towards the end features a cold fresh water spring which makes a strange contrast in the warm Turkish sea. It also features some high rocks we can climb. Gaz, Meg and myself do some ‘tombstoning’, ie diving off these rocks. Gaz keeps moaning about his footing and only does one at about 25ft, the coward. Myself and Meg decide to go one louder at about 40ft. She goes first and loses her bikini top underwater, but she is able to re-adjust before she comes up. By now the boat’s engines have started up and people are shouting at me that we are ready to go. This, and the fact that Meg had already done it (I can’t let a girl look the bravest can I?) leads me to take a quick plunge. If I stayed to think about it too long I don’t think I would have done.
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| photos courtesy of Rhi's underwater camera |
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| not the bit where she loses her top...malheureusement |
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| bombs away |
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| John commits the scene to memory while Sam wants a picture |
Day twenty three - 24 August 2009; Oludeniz and jumping off mountains
To Oludeniz, where we camp at a British run campsite with very British food and British alcohol prices. It's very pleasant though as it has it’s own beach on the famous ’Blue Lagoon‘, well famous in Oludeniz anyway. It is actually very blue too.
In the early evening, some of us including Dave, Meg, Gaz, JC and myself decide to jump off a mountain, each of us attached to a man wearing a parachute. This turns out to be as scary as you might expect, but not as frightening as the journey up the mountain in an overfilled open truck on a dirt path overlooking near sheer drops.
We get to the top, into our sexy jump suits……..running take off…lift up…Wow! There are many places you can paraglide or parachute, but there can’t be many with scenery like this. Overlooking mountains and the colourful Turkish sea, I can see the lagoon and our campsite, and the many very expensive yachts lounging off the coast. Eventually, after getting a little used to dangling in the air by a string, I ask my ‘driver’ to speed up my descent toward the end and, doing spirals, I overtake the others on my way down. The sounds I am making in this particular video carry a parental warning.
ecstatic paragliding video
That night, I go out with a group including JC, Jen (skinny pale northern lass from Leeds) and a few others. Myself and Jen being Liverpool fans, we start to watch the Liverpool v. Aston Villa game, but Liverpool are down 2-0 at half time so we leave….the group loses some members and gains some others (I lost track of who was there if I'm honest). I remember stopping to do karaoke somewhere, doing Iggy Pop’s ‘The Passenger’, the night's entertainment being otherwise reliant on the Karaoke host’s versions of Elvis songs from his fat Vegas years. JC then pushed me into the pool, which I wasn’t necessarily displeased about, although we were beginning to attract a lot of attention from the other, largely, um, retired holiday makers in the what I then realised was an hotel restaurant. Later, JC, Gaz, Lucinda and myself drink Rakis in various places and dance ridiculously.
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| Blue Lagoon |
In the early evening, some of us including Dave, Meg, Gaz, JC and myself decide to jump off a mountain, each of us attached to a man wearing a parachute. This turns out to be as scary as you might expect, but not as frightening as the journey up the mountain in an overfilled open truck on a dirt path overlooking near sheer drops.
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| can you tell what it is yet? |
We get to the top, into our sexy jump suits……..running take off…lift up…Wow! There are many places you can paraglide or parachute, but there can’t be many with scenery like this. Overlooking mountains and the colourful Turkish sea, I can see the lagoon and our campsite, and the many very expensive yachts lounging off the coast. Eventually, after getting a little used to dangling in the air by a string, I ask my ‘driver’ to speed up my descent toward the end and, doing spirals, I overtake the others on my way down. The sounds I am making in this particular video carry a parental warning.
ecstatic paragliding video
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| blue lagoon below |
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| that night was a bit of a blur if I'm honest |
Day twenty two - 23 Aug 2009 - Pammukale Travertines
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| a chi stop on the road |
Today we drive to Pammukale, where there are amazing travertines, calcium rock formations formed by lava heating water beneath the earth's surface, and equally amazing Russian women posing purposefully in skimpy bikinis. According to Trivial Pursuit, 25% of Russian 16 yr olds want to grow up to be prostitutes. Looking at these women trying hard to look like porn models, it becomes worryingly apparent that this may well be true.
The travertines cascade down the hillside in the shape of rice paddies and glacial formations, creating an odd arctic scene in the deep heat of south west Turkey. The slightly dressed Russians add to the surrealism of the scenery.
Pammukale also features the ruins of the ancient Roman city of Hieropolis. They are slight in comparison to Ephesus, but I find the amphitheatre slightly more impressive here (picture). The Russians have not bothered to change from what they were wearing at the travertines either.On the road, I lose my Dior sunglasses as they fall from my face when I am on the balcony of the truck. They bounce off onto the Turkish motorway. I consider buzzing for an emergency stop, but I am not sure that this will go down well, so I don’t.
At night we bush camp in a rural location by hills. Dave and Meg climb to the top of a hill overlooking us, hoping to camp in the woods. Suddenly a shot gun rings out. There is a dramatic pause as nobody can see Dave or Meg, nor do we hear anything. I call out to them. There is relief when they are seen scurrying down another side of the hill.....clearly Turkish farmers don't even say 'get orf my laaand' before pulling out the shotgun.
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| Joost, our energetic Dutchman on decoy duty |
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| a less cluttered view |
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| The amphitheatre at Hierapolis |
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| the ancient pool at Hierapolis / Pammukale |
Day twenty one - 22 Aug 2009, an Aegean Beach
Today was a nice lazy day on the beach. As I was sunburnt already, I went into the sea with my loud beach shirt on, which I had bought with the previously mentioned trousers in Bude in Cornwall. They suffer a similar fate as the trousers, as buttons are ripped off by the tide.
The evening is another quiet one, as I am conserving money.
Day twenty - 21 August 2009, Ephesus & an hermaphrodite mermaid
We visit Ephesus, the Turkish parallel to Pompeii. While perhaps not quite as well preserved as the latter, it is still an inspiring experience with some fabulous and special highlights, including communal Roman toilets (these will seem quite luxuriously usable in the weeks and months to come). I get to have a go at singing in the amphitheatre, although not all of the group appreciate my efforts.
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| the magnificent centre piece of Ephesus |
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| the amphitheatre and .... |
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| ...the star of the show |
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| the ability to touch both at the same time gives me the strength of an immortal |
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| ...or not |
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| our guide |
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| the joys of communal living |
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| transparent trading practices are obviously catching on in Turkey |
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| a curvaceous if ambiguous Meg PS in extracting Meg from her sandy predicament, an accidental slippage occurs, giving young Andrew his most exciting moment of the journey...and possibly his whole life... |
Day nineteen - 20 August 2009, Troy skipped out
Today the truck visits Troy, but I am learning to be a cheapskate, as this is a long trip after all. I do not go in as I was advised that at 15 TL it wasn’t worth it. Those who did go in say I made the right choice. The main attraction seemed to be a replica Trojan horse.
Turkey is not necessarily a cheap place to go on holiday. Beer, the most important of commodities on this trip, is often at UK prices or above. In Romania and neighbouring Bulgaria, a large bottle of beer was equivalent to about 70p.
Keep on trucking.....
Turkey is not necessarily a cheap place to go on holiday. Beer, the most important of commodities on this trip, is often at UK prices or above. In Romania and neighbouring Bulgaria, a large bottle of beer was equivalent to about 70p.
Keep on trucking.....
Day eighteen - 19 August 2009, Gallipoli
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| St Nick was Turkish...early festive atmosphere on the truck |
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| Meg and Rhiannon cruising on the truck balcony. One is extremely proud of her hair. |
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| still quite a way to go then.... |
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| Gallipoli |
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| Little big John trying out the trenches |
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| One of Australian Cemetery's, buried where they fell |
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| Suvla Bay |
I go with JC and Hughie to collect truck at the secure parking via taxi. The driver doesn’t believe in lanes - I later discover that road rules are merely suggestions in most of Asia - and his only indicator is his horn. When Hughie and I try to put seatbelts on, which are hidden under the seats, we are told not to by the driver. This is taken as an insult to his masculinity I believe, or at least his driving skills. I must admit, he is very good at getting through narrow spaces. However, he doesn’t seem to take into much account the fact that the narrow spaces are caused by cars wanting to go in different directions to him.
We go to Gallipoli today, site of the famous WW1 battle commemorated by Australians and New Zealanders on ANZAC day. It is a beautiful area of vast open hills and views for miles around looking down to Suvla Bay. Alas, it's also savage and deadly if you are trying to fight up the hills using trench warfare tactics. We get a history lesson in ‘Turklish’ from a guide, which nobody understands. However, I can say that, during the Gallipoli campaign, about 45,000 allied troops were killed and more than twice that were wounded. The Turks came out victorious despite losing 87,000 during the campaign and another 164,000 wounded. The number of casualties suffered in these First World War campaigns never seems to be less than unimaginable, but having visited a number of battle sites in the past, I can understand somewhat how it happens. At Vimy Ridge in France for instance, they have left some of the land around the Canadian memorial in the condition it was after the battle there. Even with erosion over the years, the area consists only of shell holes. There is no flat ground.
Actually, the UK suffered worse than Australia & NZ in terms of numbers killed at Gallipoli, with over 21,000 dead, but I suppose if you compare that to 30,000 dead in one day at the Somme, this doesn't represent the lowest point of British military history.
We are told by a number of people that have been here during ANZAC day that a fair few of the Australians who come seem to be here for the party, without much regard for the significance of the site. Gaz, who has been here for ANZAC day, says he met one who didn’t even know what ANZAC stood for....
Day Seventeen - 18 August 2009 Istanbul and Asia!
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| middle ages mosaic in Aya Sofia |
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| Aya Sofia |
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| when in Rome...or Istanbul |
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| views from the Bosphorus |
Later most go to a Spa for a massage, but Meg and myself skip it for reasons of expense and, to varying degrees, physical capacity.
Dinner was a pizza, more western style than Turkish. Marks = 6/10:
- reasonable crust
- Gruyere or some other uncommon pizza cheese used
- Good flavours generally
- tinned mushrooms (bah!)
Nobody has pointed out my Fall T-shirts yet.
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