The Road to Ruins - 25 Days in Istanbul & Road Tripping thru Western Turkey
Nov 1st, 2013, 06:42 AM
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Kaş
We seem to have an infallible ability to take the longest possible route to any destination. I started to take the exit by the new marina, but we decided to go on to an exit closer to the center of town. I did a quick u-turn and returned to the highway. It went up and up, until we were way above Kaş. We then entered the town on the eastern side, via a series of switchbacks that led us down through residential neighborhoods. Far below us we could see a harbor, a waterfront and a minaret. We headed to a hotel-rich area adjacent to the waterfront. We had no idea where our lodging, the Cachet Hotel, was. Nor did the first three people we asked. Finally, a desk clerk summoned a hotel manager. He indicated that the Hotel Cachet was “about three of four kilometers away,” out on the Peninsula just before the new marina. This kicked off a series of vertical drives that took us back up to the route on which we’d arrived, then back to the exit we’d bypassed on our initial arrival forty-five minutes earlier. We soon spotted a “peninsula hotels” sign and turned onto the adjacent road. After that we saw our first “Cachet Hotel” sign and were on our way.
The peninsula seems to be the foreign quarter of Kaş. There were numerous expensive houses and villas perched on cliffs above the sea. “For sale” signs were in English. There wasn’t a mosque in sight - we were to be blissfully beyond earshot of electronically-enhanced muezzins for five tranquil days. The Hotel Cachet was almost at the very end of the peninsula. We arrived at it by going down a 45º drive slope on the narrowest of roads to Meis Hotel’s parking lot and then making a sharp upward right into the Hotel Cachet’s parking lot. (The layout was so confusing that we initially had tried to check into the Cachet at the Meis Hotel office.)
The Cachet was a modernist boutique hotel owned and managed by an Anglophile Pakistani. It was constructed so that all twelve of the rooms had sea views. Indeed, as the owner proudly pointed out, “even the car park had a sea view.” The interior layout was superbly designed, with two stories of glassed open space that flooded the ground floor lobby with light. The small car park was on the first floor immediately above the lobby. There had apparently been some unfortunate “incidents” in the current season, as the glass had been cracked in a couple of places from incautious parkers. The car park, as well as the first and second floor rooms, was accessed via a circular staircase. The hotel also had a ground floor restaurant, an outside dining terrace, a pool underneath the terrace and a further series of smaller terraces below the pool. On the horizon, about a kilometer away, was the Greek island of Kastellorizo, the easternmost of Greece’s many islands. Our room was comfortable and, after five days in living-out-of-the-suitcase nomadic mode, it felt good to unpack. The king size bed was comfortable. However, the bedding – both the sheets and the blankets – seemed to have been made for a smaller bed. This resulted in a night of somnolent struggle over the covers; we resolved this by getting a second set of sheets and blankets the following morning. Henceforth, to each his or her own.
It had been a long day. We’d driven from Pamukkale to Aphrodisias, toured Aphrodisias, backtracked almost to Denizli to pick up the road to the coast and Kaş, and then wandered Kaş for the better part of an hour in search of our hotel. The roads had been in good – albeit near-constant – repair, well signed and had taken us through the most spectacular countryside so far this trip. We were exhausted and opted to dine in at the hotel’s Manzara Restaurant. It was a good decision. We started with stuffed “vine” [i.e., grape] leaves, smoked aubergine and spicy sautéed haloumi cheese. All were great. The cheese, studded with sesame seeds and in a sauce of peppers and tomatoes, was particularly good. We then had ali nazik (lamb slices sautéed with onions, pepper and tomato served atop smoked aubergine and topped with a yogurt sauce) and hunçar begendi (lamb on mashed aubergine with yellow cheese). Both dishes were wonderful; for me in particular, it was great having something that was robustly seasoned. We accompanied dinner with a good red wine (“kalecik kamsi,” if I’m interpreting my handwriting correctly). We split a superb baklava with vanilla ice cream for dessert.
We spent our first day in Kaş exploring the delightful little town on foot. We fingered ceramics, tried on clothing – half of ours was either in the hotel laundry or hang-drying on our balcony – and poked our heads in a couple of rug shops, where we were pleasantly surprised to find the prices lower than what we’d seen elsewhere. We took some photos of some likely candidates and moved on. We ate a small lunch (fried calamari and some eggplant dip) at Zeitoun, a nice restaurant near the waterfront. Much later, on the recommendation of the Cachet’s owner, he made us reservations for dinner that night in Bahçe (“Garden”). Specifically, he made us reservations at the right Bahçe, since there are two nearly adjacent restaurants sharing this name. Ours was an open-air garden. In lieu of choosing from the menu, I went over to a large array of mezze and indicated what I wanted. We had: hummus (less garlicky than, and not as silky as, the Arab kind – almost like a coarsely ground garbanzo paste); feta cheese with green peppers; a mildly spicy cheese; superb fried calamari; great stuffed mushrooms; fried pastries stuffed with pastirma and cheese; and the ubiquitous smoked eggplant puree. And an Efes. We definitely over-ordered, but somehow finished everything off. Funnily enough, our waiter that night at Bahçe was the same waiter we’d had that afternoon at Zeitoun.
The next day we drove to Myra to see stone-carved Lycian tombs and the Roman amphitheater. The Lycian tombs were literally carved right into a cliff without any apparent overall plan. The openings are modeled on temple facades. A few had hand-carved scenes. Some of them now serve as storage rooms for houses in the village that has grown up to and sometimes around them. The adjacent amphitheater was well preserved, but by now we’d pretty much gone off amphitheaters. (Ancient amphitheaters seem to have survived the turmoil of the passing ages better than any other ancient structures; however there’s not much in the way of differentiation among them.)
We skipped the semi-obligatory visit to the nearby Saint Nicholas Church in Demre, home to the bishop now known as Santa Claus. After our excursion, we returned to Kaş and our hotel – both the town and our hotel were so pleasant that we were becoming reluctant to leave them for any length of time.
That afternoon, we returned to one of the rug shops and began some serious negotiations for a rug we’d been eyeing. After some apple tea, and back and forth, we settled on a price to be paid in cash. Our acquisition – a slightly vintage 5’ by 6’ red and blue “tribal” carpet with natural dyes and a subdued pattern – was folded and tucked into a black carry bag. It’s a perfect fit for our living room. I think the combination of being in Kaş late season, paying in cash and carrying – rather than have the seller ship – the rug all contributed to what we feel to have been a favorable price.
That evening, we ate at Mergan, a seafood restaurant near the waterfront. We had some rubbery calamari and a piece of overcooked desiccated swordfish. Not recommended – this ranked as one of the worst meals of our trip.
A description of Hotel Cachet would be incomplete without describing the breakfast bar. I had my first menemen there the morning after our arrival; I liked it so much I had it every day thereafter. Since the breakfast buffet also contained cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes, a variety of olives and a feta-like cheese at breakfast, I also made myself a little breakfast salad every morning. The coffee was excellent, not the Nescafe that seemed to have regularly popped up elsewhere. For traditional breakfast eaters, there were also cereals and breads. I found out the first morning that every guest at the Cachet, other than ourselves, was from the UK. Later, I spent some time talking to a Scots couple that had retired from the jewelry trade and moved from London to Scotland. They thought it was hilarious when I asked if they had moved there for the climate.
Our third day was spent on a boat trip to Simena, Karakoy and Kerkova Island. The American couple we’d met in Bergama had given us the names of the captain (Abdullah) and the boat (Azrum) they’d taken on a sail from the small fishing port of Üçağiz a couple of weeks earlier and whom they’d highly recommended. We’d written the name of the boat down on a slip of paper and, when we arrived at the dock in Üçağiz, we’d asked for Abdullah and showed the slip of paper to some people on the dock. Unfortunately, the initial attempt to write “Azrum” – “Arzu,” apparently a viable word in Turkish – was on the other side of the paper and one of the people on the dock had a boat of that or a similar name. So out we walked on the dock, the person ignoring our questions of “Abdullah? Abdullah?” as we walked past a boat clearly labeled Azrum. When we arrived at the Arzu, it became immediately apparent that this was not our boat. A surreal dockside comedy then ensued, with us pointing to the word “Azrum” on the slip of paper and Captain not-Abdullah turning it over and pointing at the word “Arzu.” Finally, YT took the piece of paper and tore off the portion with “Arzu” written on it and crumpled it up, which displeased Captain not-Abdullah. We started walking back towards shore (and the Azrum) with a gesticulating Captain not-Abdullah and a crowd of on-lookers. Fortunately, a woman had hunted down the real Captain Abdullah in the interim and we met him on the dock. There was some back and forth between Captains Abdullah and not-Abdullah before not-Abdullah gave way and we boarded the Azrum.
We hoisted anchor and were on our way. Our first stop was Simena, an ancient fortress town. As we sailed along the shore, we noted numerous Lycian tombs, these free standing but also carved of what appeared to be solid pieces of rock. Although he didn’t speak any English, Abdullah was wonderfully attentive, serving us grapes and water and dried apricots. Abdullah docked and we set out to explore the town. YT by then had developed a blister, so I was on my own ascending to the fortress. I was thankful for the shaded narrow streets as I ascended the hill; it was getting hot. The fortress itself wasn’t that interesting. The adjoining Lycian stone tombs were. They resembled gigantic versions of the old-style post boxes you see in the American countryside. We returned to the boat and cast off for the half-sunken ruins of Kerkova. An earthquake had tilted this ancient city on its side and slid part of it into the sea. There were still some standing ruins on land, but also gates at, and stairs leading down to, the water’s edge, as well the submerged foundations of ancient buildings visible through the shallow turquoise sea. We were only out for maybe two hours, but I cannot recommend this mini-cruise more. The ruins were interesting and the surrounding landscape rugged and spectacular. We returned to Üçağiz, paid Captain Abdullah and headed towards our car. The last time we saw him, he was standing on the dock responding calmly to a gesticulating tirade by Captain not-Abdullah.
We had a nap on our return to the hotel in early afternoon and then set out on foot for an early dinner (we’d again skipped lunch). Tonight we had made reservations at the restaurant Ruhi Bey. It took an effort to find the place; we asked repeatedly in the old town. Most people hadn’t heard of it. Finally, a man who owned a tour business googled it and sent us off in the right direction. Ruhi Bey was lovely, a nice small outside restaurant on a small side street. The meal was superb. We had four mezze chosen from an array in the kitchen – the marinated fish and the rice with mussels were particularly sublime. Our mains, a moist sole şiş and köfte, were also superb. We had a bottle of excellent Turkish sauvignon blanc “Majestic.” We loved this artsy little place. I photographed a large painting of Ataturk with a glass of raki in his hand. And we both fell in love with the background music by the exquisite Turkish jazz vocalist Birsen Tezer. We highly recommend this restaurant. We walked around a bit after dinner – I went to the folk music record store to see if they had any Birsen Tezer CDs (they didn’t). We ended the evening with baklava with vanilla ice cream back at our hotel restaurant.
The next day – our last in Kaş - we headed west along the coast, stopping first at Kaputaş beach overlook for the views far below of the shallow turquoise waters and the small sandy beach. Then we were off the see more ruins - Patara and Xanthos. Patara was fantastic. It had a superb standing city gate, a nice amphitheater and a partially reconstructed assembly hall that offered a glimpse of life into the ancient past. YT’s blisters were still hobbling her, so she remained in the car while I quickly explored. Unfortunately, I’d missed the turn-off for the Patara ruins parking lot and had instead parked at the Patara beach parking lot. I had to backtrack from the beach parking lot on foot to the ruins. It was a kilometer of trash, goat dung, broken glass and low thorny plants - but worth it.
Xanthos was next. It consisted of another amphitheater and an elevated Lycian tomb with a nice frieze around the top. These nice roadside ruins had free entry – a rarity. On our return drive to Kaş, we stopped for a late lunch at the roadside Gümüş restaurant. It sat atop a cliff with a view of an immense expanse of sea and some small islands. We took a table under an arbor and ordered a couple of mezze, some fried calamari and a bottle of delicious rosé. It was a delightful sunny afternoon and we had this beautiful place to ourselves once a nearby table of touring Germans finished their meal. Nothing could be more perfect than sitting there, sipping a glass of wine and enjoying the spectacular view. We could have lingered for hours.
But we had to pack. We took our unfinished bottle of wine and headed back to the Hotel Cachet. We had our final meal in the Manzara Restaurant of the hotel that night, a semi-repeat of our first meal there: fried cheese, vine leaves, ali nazik and lamb şiş, accompanied by a bottle of yakut red. It was good. We looked forward to the next day’s drive to the Datça Peninsula with a mixture of anticipation and sadness.
We seem to have an infallible ability to take the longest possible route to any destination. I started to take the exit by the new marina, but we decided to go on to an exit closer to the center of town. I did a quick u-turn and returned to the highway. It went up and up, until we were way above Kaş. We then entered the town on the eastern side, via a series of switchbacks that led us down through residential neighborhoods. Far below us we could see a harbor, a waterfront and a minaret. We headed to a hotel-rich area adjacent to the waterfront. We had no idea where our lodging, the Cachet Hotel, was. Nor did the first three people we asked. Finally, a desk clerk summoned a hotel manager. He indicated that the Hotel Cachet was “about three of four kilometers away,” out on the Peninsula just before the new marina. This kicked off a series of vertical drives that took us back up to the route on which we’d arrived, then back to the exit we’d bypassed on our initial arrival forty-five minutes earlier. We soon spotted a “peninsula hotels” sign and turned onto the adjacent road. After that we saw our first “Cachet Hotel” sign and were on our way.
The peninsula seems to be the foreign quarter of Kaş. There were numerous expensive houses and villas perched on cliffs above the sea. “For sale” signs were in English. There wasn’t a mosque in sight - we were to be blissfully beyond earshot of electronically-enhanced muezzins for five tranquil days. The Hotel Cachet was almost at the very end of the peninsula. We arrived at it by going down a 45º drive slope on the narrowest of roads to Meis Hotel’s parking lot and then making a sharp upward right into the Hotel Cachet’s parking lot. (The layout was so confusing that we initially had tried to check into the Cachet at the Meis Hotel office.)
The Cachet was a modernist boutique hotel owned and managed by an Anglophile Pakistani. It was constructed so that all twelve of the rooms had sea views. Indeed, as the owner proudly pointed out, “even the car park had a sea view.” The interior layout was superbly designed, with two stories of glassed open space that flooded the ground floor lobby with light. The small car park was on the first floor immediately above the lobby. There had apparently been some unfortunate “incidents” in the current season, as the glass had been cracked in a couple of places from incautious parkers. The car park, as well as the first and second floor rooms, was accessed via a circular staircase. The hotel also had a ground floor restaurant, an outside dining terrace, a pool underneath the terrace and a further series of smaller terraces below the pool. On the horizon, about a kilometer away, was the Greek island of Kastellorizo, the easternmost of Greece’s many islands. Our room was comfortable and, after five days in living-out-of-the-suitcase nomadic mode, it felt good to unpack. The king size bed was comfortable. However, the bedding – both the sheets and the blankets – seemed to have been made for a smaller bed. This resulted in a night of somnolent struggle over the covers; we resolved this by getting a second set of sheets and blankets the following morning. Henceforth, to each his or her own.
It had been a long day. We’d driven from Pamukkale to Aphrodisias, toured Aphrodisias, backtracked almost to Denizli to pick up the road to the coast and Kaş, and then wandered Kaş for the better part of an hour in search of our hotel. The roads had been in good – albeit near-constant – repair, well signed and had taken us through the most spectacular countryside so far this trip. We were exhausted and opted to dine in at the hotel’s Manzara Restaurant. It was a good decision. We started with stuffed “vine” [i.e., grape] leaves, smoked aubergine and spicy sautéed haloumi cheese. All were great. The cheese, studded with sesame seeds and in a sauce of peppers and tomatoes, was particularly good. We then had ali nazik (lamb slices sautéed with onions, pepper and tomato served atop smoked aubergine and topped with a yogurt sauce) and hunçar begendi (lamb on mashed aubergine with yellow cheese). Both dishes were wonderful; for me in particular, it was great having something that was robustly seasoned. We accompanied dinner with a good red wine (“kalecik kamsi,” if I’m interpreting my handwriting correctly). We split a superb baklava with vanilla ice cream for dessert.
We spent our first day in Kaş exploring the delightful little town on foot. We fingered ceramics, tried on clothing – half of ours was either in the hotel laundry or hang-drying on our balcony – and poked our heads in a couple of rug shops, where we were pleasantly surprised to find the prices lower than what we’d seen elsewhere. We took some photos of some likely candidates and moved on. We ate a small lunch (fried calamari and some eggplant dip) at Zeitoun, a nice restaurant near the waterfront. Much later, on the recommendation of the Cachet’s owner, he made us reservations for dinner that night in Bahçe (“Garden”). Specifically, he made us reservations at the right Bahçe, since there are two nearly adjacent restaurants sharing this name. Ours was an open-air garden. In lieu of choosing from the menu, I went over to a large array of mezze and indicated what I wanted. We had: hummus (less garlicky than, and not as silky as, the Arab kind – almost like a coarsely ground garbanzo paste); feta cheese with green peppers; a mildly spicy cheese; superb fried calamari; great stuffed mushrooms; fried pastries stuffed with pastirma and cheese; and the ubiquitous smoked eggplant puree. And an Efes. We definitely over-ordered, but somehow finished everything off. Funnily enough, our waiter that night at Bahçe was the same waiter we’d had that afternoon at Zeitoun.
The next day we drove to Myra to see stone-carved Lycian tombs and the Roman amphitheater. The Lycian tombs were literally carved right into a cliff without any apparent overall plan. The openings are modeled on temple facades. A few had hand-carved scenes. Some of them now serve as storage rooms for houses in the village that has grown up to and sometimes around them. The adjacent amphitheater was well preserved, but by now we’d pretty much gone off amphitheaters. (Ancient amphitheaters seem to have survived the turmoil of the passing ages better than any other ancient structures; however there’s not much in the way of differentiation among them.)
We skipped the semi-obligatory visit to the nearby Saint Nicholas Church in Demre, home to the bishop now known as Santa Claus. After our excursion, we returned to Kaş and our hotel – both the town and our hotel were so pleasant that we were becoming reluctant to leave them for any length of time.
That afternoon, we returned to one of the rug shops and began some serious negotiations for a rug we’d been eyeing. After some apple tea, and back and forth, we settled on a price to be paid in cash. Our acquisition – a slightly vintage 5’ by 6’ red and blue “tribal” carpet with natural dyes and a subdued pattern – was folded and tucked into a black carry bag. It’s a perfect fit for our living room. I think the combination of being in Kaş late season, paying in cash and carrying – rather than have the seller ship – the rug all contributed to what we feel to have been a favorable price.
That evening, we ate at Mergan, a seafood restaurant near the waterfront. We had some rubbery calamari and a piece of overcooked desiccated swordfish. Not recommended – this ranked as one of the worst meals of our trip.
A description of Hotel Cachet would be incomplete without describing the breakfast bar. I had my first menemen there the morning after our arrival; I liked it so much I had it every day thereafter. Since the breakfast buffet also contained cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes, a variety of olives and a feta-like cheese at breakfast, I also made myself a little breakfast salad every morning. The coffee was excellent, not the Nescafe that seemed to have regularly popped up elsewhere. For traditional breakfast eaters, there were also cereals and breads. I found out the first morning that every guest at the Cachet, other than ourselves, was from the UK. Later, I spent some time talking to a Scots couple that had retired from the jewelry trade and moved from London to Scotland. They thought it was hilarious when I asked if they had moved there for the climate.
Our third day was spent on a boat trip to Simena, Karakoy and Kerkova Island. The American couple we’d met in Bergama had given us the names of the captain (Abdullah) and the boat (Azrum) they’d taken on a sail from the small fishing port of Üçağiz a couple of weeks earlier and whom they’d highly recommended. We’d written the name of the boat down on a slip of paper and, when we arrived at the dock in Üçağiz, we’d asked for Abdullah and showed the slip of paper to some people on the dock. Unfortunately, the initial attempt to write “Azrum” – “Arzu,” apparently a viable word in Turkish – was on the other side of the paper and one of the people on the dock had a boat of that or a similar name. So out we walked on the dock, the person ignoring our questions of “Abdullah? Abdullah?” as we walked past a boat clearly labeled Azrum. When we arrived at the Arzu, it became immediately apparent that this was not our boat. A surreal dockside comedy then ensued, with us pointing to the word “Azrum” on the slip of paper and Captain not-Abdullah turning it over and pointing at the word “Arzu.” Finally, YT took the piece of paper and tore off the portion with “Arzu” written on it and crumpled it up, which displeased Captain not-Abdullah. We started walking back towards shore (and the Azrum) with a gesticulating Captain not-Abdullah and a crowd of on-lookers. Fortunately, a woman had hunted down the real Captain Abdullah in the interim and we met him on the dock. There was some back and forth between Captains Abdullah and not-Abdullah before not-Abdullah gave way and we boarded the Azrum.
We hoisted anchor and were on our way. Our first stop was Simena, an ancient fortress town. As we sailed along the shore, we noted numerous Lycian tombs, these free standing but also carved of what appeared to be solid pieces of rock. Although he didn’t speak any English, Abdullah was wonderfully attentive, serving us grapes and water and dried apricots. Abdullah docked and we set out to explore the town. YT by then had developed a blister, so I was on my own ascending to the fortress. I was thankful for the shaded narrow streets as I ascended the hill; it was getting hot. The fortress itself wasn’t that interesting. The adjoining Lycian stone tombs were. They resembled gigantic versions of the old-style post boxes you see in the American countryside. We returned to the boat and cast off for the half-sunken ruins of Kerkova. An earthquake had tilted this ancient city on its side and slid part of it into the sea. There were still some standing ruins on land, but also gates at, and stairs leading down to, the water’s edge, as well the submerged foundations of ancient buildings visible through the shallow turquoise sea. We were only out for maybe two hours, but I cannot recommend this mini-cruise more. The ruins were interesting and the surrounding landscape rugged and spectacular. We returned to Üçağiz, paid Captain Abdullah and headed towards our car. The last time we saw him, he was standing on the dock responding calmly to a gesticulating tirade by Captain not-Abdullah.
We had a nap on our return to the hotel in early afternoon and then set out on foot for an early dinner (we’d again skipped lunch). Tonight we had made reservations at the restaurant Ruhi Bey. It took an effort to find the place; we asked repeatedly in the old town. Most people hadn’t heard of it. Finally, a man who owned a tour business googled it and sent us off in the right direction. Ruhi Bey was lovely, a nice small outside restaurant on a small side street. The meal was superb. We had four mezze chosen from an array in the kitchen – the marinated fish and the rice with mussels were particularly sublime. Our mains, a moist sole şiş and köfte, were also superb. We had a bottle of excellent Turkish sauvignon blanc “Majestic.” We loved this artsy little place. I photographed a large painting of Ataturk with a glass of raki in his hand. And we both fell in love with the background music by the exquisite Turkish jazz vocalist Birsen Tezer. We highly recommend this restaurant. We walked around a bit after dinner – I went to the folk music record store to see if they had any Birsen Tezer CDs (they didn’t). We ended the evening with baklava with vanilla ice cream back at our hotel restaurant.
The next day – our last in Kaş - we headed west along the coast, stopping first at Kaputaş beach overlook for the views far below of the shallow turquoise waters and the small sandy beach. Then we were off the see more ruins - Patara and Xanthos. Patara was fantastic. It had a superb standing city gate, a nice amphitheater and a partially reconstructed assembly hall that offered a glimpse of life into the ancient past. YT’s blisters were still hobbling her, so she remained in the car while I quickly explored. Unfortunately, I’d missed the turn-off for the Patara ruins parking lot and had instead parked at the Patara beach parking lot. I had to backtrack from the beach parking lot on foot to the ruins. It was a kilometer of trash, goat dung, broken glass and low thorny plants - but worth it.
Xanthos was next. It consisted of another amphitheater and an elevated Lycian tomb with a nice frieze around the top. These nice roadside ruins had free entry – a rarity. On our return drive to Kaş, we stopped for a late lunch at the roadside Gümüş restaurant. It sat atop a cliff with a view of an immense expanse of sea and some small islands. We took a table under an arbor and ordered a couple of mezze, some fried calamari and a bottle of delicious rosé. It was a delightful sunny afternoon and we had this beautiful place to ourselves once a nearby table of touring Germans finished their meal. Nothing could be more perfect than sitting there, sipping a glass of wine and enjoying the spectacular view. We could have lingered for hours.
But we had to pack. We took our unfinished bottle of wine and headed back to the Hotel Cachet. We had our final meal in the Manzara Restaurant of the hotel that night, a semi-repeat of our first meal there: fried cheese, vine leaves, ali nazik and lamb şiş, accompanied by a bottle of yakut red. It was good. We looked forward to the next day’s drive to the Datça Peninsula with a mixture of anticipation and sadness.
Nov 1st, 2013, 06:52 AM
#24
Join Date: Apr 2011
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A quick note: I’m writing this trip report in Word and then copying it, by completed segment, to post on the Forum. Word’s spell-check keeps trying to change the word “aubergine” to “aborigine.” To date I have caught and corrected these changes, but I’m concerned that one may slip by. So, for the record, we do not eat aborigines. Indeed, we find the very concept quite distasteful.
Nov 1st, 2013, 09:46 AM
#27
gottravel, those who have acquired a taste for aborigines would be disappointed in Turkey. The Lykians, or the Hittites may have eaten them all up when they conquered Asia Minor at a time when cannibalism was considered haute cuisine. Various Middle Eastern governments and rebel groups supported by civilized Western powers such as US and EU still practice this possibly ethically and religiously acceptable ceremony.
I can understand why fried calamari has such an emphasis in your report after seeing you sneak pieces from Yestravel's plate.
I can understand why fried calamari has such an emphasis in your report after seeing you sneak pieces from Yestravel's plate.
Nov 2nd, 2013, 07:29 AM
#28
Original Poster
CORRECTION - there is a small fee for Patara. One must drive thru a gate on the road towards the beach and the ruins. We paid an admission fee there. Patara looked like it might be a delightful village to stay for a few days.
Nov 4th, 2013, 09:00 AM
#30
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Still following along, too! Glad to hear you got to stay awhile in Kaş - sounded wonderful. I'm not a fan of moving around a lot, but totally understand why it just makes sense for some trips.
Loved the Captains Abdullah and not-Abdullah story!
Loved the Captains Abdullah and not-Abdullah story!
Nov 4th, 2013, 12:45 PM
#31
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Datça and Lake Bafa
We were on the road towards the Datça Peninsula immediately after the next day’s breakfast at the Hotel Cachet. We made a brief detour near Fethiye to visit the Salikent Gorge. We were fortunate to arrive before too many tour buses. The Salikent Gorge is every bit as beautiful as it’s billed to be, a deep narrow shaded canyon filled with a rushing stream tinted bluish-green from dissolved minerals. The entrance is at the downstream end of the canyon; the lower part of the canyon walls here are smooth and cursive through erosion. We took a suspended walkway maybe a couple hundred meters up the gorge, but skipped renting plastic sandals and going further up the rugged gorge in the chilly waters.
After Fethiye we took a nice road onward to Datça and further misadventures. After Marmaris, at the base of the Datça Peninsula, the landscape becomes largely empty, extremely rugged and very picturesque. We stopped for photos. At some of the higher points, the seas on both sides of the Datça Peninsula are visible at the same time. As we approached Datça town the landscape become lower and more populated, an expanse of olive trees and vacation homes. We passed little roadside farm stands selling almonds and all things olive.
Our destination was the Serenity Pension in Hayitbükü. Unfortunately, we didn’t have directions and couldn’t find the town on our maps – digital or hard copy. We’d noticed recurring signs for a spa/resort place called the Olive Farm as we’d approached Datça town. We figured an English name meant English speakers and we were right in a way – enough to get directions to Mesudiye, which is either another name for Hayitbükü or close enough to it geographically that it didn’t matter if it wasn’t. This ended up being expensive advice as we bought a large tube of olive oil skin lotion while we were in the gift shop getting directions.
Having directions and following them are two different things. We followed the instructions to go right at the circle and then go right again when the road split. We ended up at the dock for the ferryboat to Bodrum (which is on the next peninsula north from the Datça). This was somewhat disconcerting, as we understood Hayitbükü/ Mesudiye to be on the south side of the Datça Peninsula. After some roadside consultations with a passerby, we determined that we’d taken the second right prematurely. Back we went, rejoined the old road, took the right fork and promptly became lost again, eventually driving through a tiny town with streets so narrow we feared encountering any oncoming traffic in any form – on foot, hooved or with two or four tires. Eventually, our route did take us to Mesudiye – in retrospect, it had been the equivalent of a big detour around Datça town – and we found ourselves rolling down a big hill to small beach far below and followed the signs to the Serenity Pension.
The owner was out of town and his irrepressibly cheerful mother greeted us. She showed us our room on the second floor above a restaurant. It was simple and spotlessly clean, had two single beds and a window that overlooked the beach across the street. But it was very small. Our belongings at this point consisted of two carry-on size rolling suitcases, my daypack, and two gym-size bags, one YT’s and the other containing the rug we’d bought in Kaş. We barely had space to fit them in the room. We eventually built what amounted to a baggage barricade between one of the beds and the wall by the window. The bathroom was microscopic – small enough so that you could, with minimal effort, shower and use both the toilet and the sink simultaneously. In addition to the bathroom’s unusual efficiency, it was also low-ceilinged; I hit my head on the top of the low bathroom entry doorway. After stacking our luggage, we walked around the town. The beachfront was beautiful and, this late in October, almost empty despite the gorgeous weather. At the restaurant next door, staff were setting up a band for a wedding party. We sat in the outside part of the downstairs restaurant and used the WiFi to catch up on friends and the news – we found that we were still without an operational government. Later we had dinner in, fixed by the owner’s mother: mixed mezze, grilled fish (YT) and excellent manti (GT). The beds were comfortable. We went to sleep listening to the delightfully raucous Turkish wedding music and awakened to the sound of the Aegean lapping gently on the beach.
As much as we liked Hayitbükü, the lady at the Serenity Pension and the Serenity Pension’s budget charm, we had decided to move on. The room was just too small; perhaps we’d been spoiled in the Hotel Cachet. (That said, I would nonetheless recommend the Serenity Pension for solo budget travelers; it has everything going for it except room size. And Hayitbükü would be a wonderful town in which to spend some down time.) After our delicious breakfast, we guiltily informed the lady we were leaving a day early, paid up and were on our way.
We had repeatedly changed our lodging on this trip, departing (and arriving early) several times without a word of complaint from hotel owners. It was low season, and I cannot speak for summer travel, but I think we could have made the whole Aegean portion of our trip – from Bergama through Lake Bafa – without reservations. Selçuk, due to the popular Ephesus ruins, would have made the sole exception.
We’d identified a modern hotel in downtown Datça, Konak Tuncel Efe, the previous evening. And they had a free room. In fact, as it turned out, they had numerous free rooms – we were to be the only guests that night. We arrived too early to check in, so we dropped off our luggage, parked our car and wandered the town. Datça is a prosperous town, perhaps from the summer domestic tourist trade. The street outside our hotel was lined with gourmet shops selling local products including olives, olive oil, various honeys and an array of nuts and jams. On the other side of the hotel there was a beachfront walkway that curved around the harbor. We returned, moved our luggage to our (spacious) room and undertook an automobile exploration of the Datça Peninsula. As we drove further west, the rugged mountains returned. We marveled at the spectacular views as we drove out to ruins of Knidos on the tip of the peninsula. On the way back, we stopped and bought a huge bag of almonds from a be-whiskered roadside vendor. Then we sought out the ferry boat (“feribot”) landing at Karakoy to explore the possibility of taking a ferry to Bodrum rather than driving the curvy mountain road back to Marmaris and then undertaking a lengthy drive to get us to Lake Bafa. The two hour ferryboat ride represented a savings even if the 105 TL fare didn’t. And there was a 9:30 ferryboat departure the next morning – perfect for us.
We had an early dinner that evening – we’d again skipped lunch – at the highly-recommended Papatya, which was within walking distance. We had good mezze, a so-so shrimp casserole and an ali nazik that was good, but not as good as the Manzara’s. Afterwards, we again walked the romantic waterfront – crowded now - before heading back to our room. We laid in bed with the window open and listened to a guitarist singer playing what sounded for all the world like flamenco. Then we turned in.
We were ready to roll after the next morning’s breakfast, made it to the ferry with time to spare, charged our ticket, and drove on to the largely empty boat. We were soon crossing Homer’s wine-dark sea. I spent my time catching up on notes and had just finished by the time the Bodrum waterfront and the Castle of Saint Peter came into view. (The Castle contains a highly-regarded Museum of Underwater Archaeology.) Bodrum, as well as the Bodrum Peninsula, has a number of ancient sites in addition to the renowned museum. Had we had more time, we would have spent a couple of days there. But we didn’t and we didn’t – soon we were on our way out of town to Lake Bafa, our next destination, via Milas.
What is now Lake Bafa had once been part of the Mediterranean, but had been sealed off by silt deposited by the Meander River in late antiquity. Since then, it has lost its salinity and become a fresh water lake. It’s dotted with ruins from both the Roman and Byzantine eras. We were staying at the Selenes Pensione, which is located on the upper shore of the lake in farm country shortly before the place where all paved roads end. The Selenes Pensione is comfortable and locale is bucolic. The grounds – it’s actually a working farm – overlook Lake Bafa. Our “premium” room came with an extra bed and a nice balcony. The second bed was a blessing as the first was too small for the two of us. (I’m 6’3” and tend to sleep somewhat diagonally.)
We’d arrived mid-afternoon and, shortly after we deposited our luggage in our room, went for a walk. We made it maybe 100 meters – it was way too hot for a walk. We bailed and took a drive instead. The countryside is both physically spectacular – rugged stony hills – and has a seemingly endless number of Roman walls, some in very good repair. We headed up to a small village in the hills where we chatted with a gentleman who was a relative of one of the Selenes’ owners or the wife of an owner. We were on half board so we had dinner on the outside terrace restaurant: mezze, salad, grilled chicken and köfte. All were good and the portions were too generous to finish. We lingered. We loved the sunset view. Donkeys brayed, chickens clucked, cows lowed and muezzins wailed. Country life.
The next morning we had a walk and then a breakfast that was huge even by Turkish standards. Then we drove to see the spectacular ruins of Didmya, less than an hour away. Didyma was a temple complex, not a city. The ruins largely consist of one well-preserved temple of Apollo that had been constructed on a colossal scale. The surviving pillars are immense in circumference, dwarfing those of the other Greek and Roman ruins we’d seen. We’d arrived fairly early in the morning and had the ruins almost to ourselves for a while. We wandered around, taking photos until the tour buses showed up. Then we drove around the surrounding town, which seemed to consist largely of new, oddly-colored apartment buildings.
We skipped lunch (again) and returned to the Selenes Pensione for a boat trip to the Byzantine monastery and fortress on an island on the lake. The shore along the route was incredibly rocky, with some spectacular boulders. The ruins were awe-inspiring, if only because someone would build a monastery in such a remote and unlikely site – and then have to build a fortress to defend it. Byzantine architecture, by the way, is almost instantly identifiable once you’ve seen it – they built with alternating rows of brick and rough-hewn stone. We spent most the remainder of the day on our balcony, relaxing among the last of our drying laundry. Dinner the second night was mixed mezze (some different from the previous night) and a kind of mixed grill. It was again good and we were treated to another vivid sunset.
Later that evening, we had the bug debacle. Contrary to instructions, we’d forgotten to turn the room light off when we sat outside on the balcony. When we opened the balcony door to re-enter the room, we had dozens of tiny uninvited guests coming with us. They were harmless – they didn’t bite – but uninvited company can be irritating. We spent some time hunting them down and shaking off the bedclothes. Country life. We were ready for some thing a tad less rustic.
We were on the road towards the Datça Peninsula immediately after the next day’s breakfast at the Hotel Cachet. We made a brief detour near Fethiye to visit the Salikent Gorge. We were fortunate to arrive before too many tour buses. The Salikent Gorge is every bit as beautiful as it’s billed to be, a deep narrow shaded canyon filled with a rushing stream tinted bluish-green from dissolved minerals. The entrance is at the downstream end of the canyon; the lower part of the canyon walls here are smooth and cursive through erosion. We took a suspended walkway maybe a couple hundred meters up the gorge, but skipped renting plastic sandals and going further up the rugged gorge in the chilly waters.
After Fethiye we took a nice road onward to Datça and further misadventures. After Marmaris, at the base of the Datça Peninsula, the landscape becomes largely empty, extremely rugged and very picturesque. We stopped for photos. At some of the higher points, the seas on both sides of the Datça Peninsula are visible at the same time. As we approached Datça town the landscape become lower and more populated, an expanse of olive trees and vacation homes. We passed little roadside farm stands selling almonds and all things olive.
Our destination was the Serenity Pension in Hayitbükü. Unfortunately, we didn’t have directions and couldn’t find the town on our maps – digital or hard copy. We’d noticed recurring signs for a spa/resort place called the Olive Farm as we’d approached Datça town. We figured an English name meant English speakers and we were right in a way – enough to get directions to Mesudiye, which is either another name for Hayitbükü or close enough to it geographically that it didn’t matter if it wasn’t. This ended up being expensive advice as we bought a large tube of olive oil skin lotion while we were in the gift shop getting directions.
Having directions and following them are two different things. We followed the instructions to go right at the circle and then go right again when the road split. We ended up at the dock for the ferryboat to Bodrum (which is on the next peninsula north from the Datça). This was somewhat disconcerting, as we understood Hayitbükü/ Mesudiye to be on the south side of the Datça Peninsula. After some roadside consultations with a passerby, we determined that we’d taken the second right prematurely. Back we went, rejoined the old road, took the right fork and promptly became lost again, eventually driving through a tiny town with streets so narrow we feared encountering any oncoming traffic in any form – on foot, hooved or with two or four tires. Eventually, our route did take us to Mesudiye – in retrospect, it had been the equivalent of a big detour around Datça town – and we found ourselves rolling down a big hill to small beach far below and followed the signs to the Serenity Pension.
The owner was out of town and his irrepressibly cheerful mother greeted us. She showed us our room on the second floor above a restaurant. It was simple and spotlessly clean, had two single beds and a window that overlooked the beach across the street. But it was very small. Our belongings at this point consisted of two carry-on size rolling suitcases, my daypack, and two gym-size bags, one YT’s and the other containing the rug we’d bought in Kaş. We barely had space to fit them in the room. We eventually built what amounted to a baggage barricade between one of the beds and the wall by the window. The bathroom was microscopic – small enough so that you could, with minimal effort, shower and use both the toilet and the sink simultaneously. In addition to the bathroom’s unusual efficiency, it was also low-ceilinged; I hit my head on the top of the low bathroom entry doorway. After stacking our luggage, we walked around the town. The beachfront was beautiful and, this late in October, almost empty despite the gorgeous weather. At the restaurant next door, staff were setting up a band for a wedding party. We sat in the outside part of the downstairs restaurant and used the WiFi to catch up on friends and the news – we found that we were still without an operational government. Later we had dinner in, fixed by the owner’s mother: mixed mezze, grilled fish (YT) and excellent manti (GT). The beds were comfortable. We went to sleep listening to the delightfully raucous Turkish wedding music and awakened to the sound of the Aegean lapping gently on the beach.
As much as we liked Hayitbükü, the lady at the Serenity Pension and the Serenity Pension’s budget charm, we had decided to move on. The room was just too small; perhaps we’d been spoiled in the Hotel Cachet. (That said, I would nonetheless recommend the Serenity Pension for solo budget travelers; it has everything going for it except room size. And Hayitbükü would be a wonderful town in which to spend some down time.) After our delicious breakfast, we guiltily informed the lady we were leaving a day early, paid up and were on our way.
We had repeatedly changed our lodging on this trip, departing (and arriving early) several times without a word of complaint from hotel owners. It was low season, and I cannot speak for summer travel, but I think we could have made the whole Aegean portion of our trip – from Bergama through Lake Bafa – without reservations. Selçuk, due to the popular Ephesus ruins, would have made the sole exception.
We’d identified a modern hotel in downtown Datça, Konak Tuncel Efe, the previous evening. And they had a free room. In fact, as it turned out, they had numerous free rooms – we were to be the only guests that night. We arrived too early to check in, so we dropped off our luggage, parked our car and wandered the town. Datça is a prosperous town, perhaps from the summer domestic tourist trade. The street outside our hotel was lined with gourmet shops selling local products including olives, olive oil, various honeys and an array of nuts and jams. On the other side of the hotel there was a beachfront walkway that curved around the harbor. We returned, moved our luggage to our (spacious) room and undertook an automobile exploration of the Datça Peninsula. As we drove further west, the rugged mountains returned. We marveled at the spectacular views as we drove out to ruins of Knidos on the tip of the peninsula. On the way back, we stopped and bought a huge bag of almonds from a be-whiskered roadside vendor. Then we sought out the ferry boat (“feribot”) landing at Karakoy to explore the possibility of taking a ferry to Bodrum rather than driving the curvy mountain road back to Marmaris and then undertaking a lengthy drive to get us to Lake Bafa. The two hour ferryboat ride represented a savings even if the 105 TL fare didn’t. And there was a 9:30 ferryboat departure the next morning – perfect for us.
We had an early dinner that evening – we’d again skipped lunch – at the highly-recommended Papatya, which was within walking distance. We had good mezze, a so-so shrimp casserole and an ali nazik that was good, but not as good as the Manzara’s. Afterwards, we again walked the romantic waterfront – crowded now - before heading back to our room. We laid in bed with the window open and listened to a guitarist singer playing what sounded for all the world like flamenco. Then we turned in.
We were ready to roll after the next morning’s breakfast, made it to the ferry with time to spare, charged our ticket, and drove on to the largely empty boat. We were soon crossing Homer’s wine-dark sea. I spent my time catching up on notes and had just finished by the time the Bodrum waterfront and the Castle of Saint Peter came into view. (The Castle contains a highly-regarded Museum of Underwater Archaeology.) Bodrum, as well as the Bodrum Peninsula, has a number of ancient sites in addition to the renowned museum. Had we had more time, we would have spent a couple of days there. But we didn’t and we didn’t – soon we were on our way out of town to Lake Bafa, our next destination, via Milas.
What is now Lake Bafa had once been part of the Mediterranean, but had been sealed off by silt deposited by the Meander River in late antiquity. Since then, it has lost its salinity and become a fresh water lake. It’s dotted with ruins from both the Roman and Byzantine eras. We were staying at the Selenes Pensione, which is located on the upper shore of the lake in farm country shortly before the place where all paved roads end. The Selenes Pensione is comfortable and locale is bucolic. The grounds – it’s actually a working farm – overlook Lake Bafa. Our “premium” room came with an extra bed and a nice balcony. The second bed was a blessing as the first was too small for the two of us. (I’m 6’3” and tend to sleep somewhat diagonally.)
We’d arrived mid-afternoon and, shortly after we deposited our luggage in our room, went for a walk. We made it maybe 100 meters – it was way too hot for a walk. We bailed and took a drive instead. The countryside is both physically spectacular – rugged stony hills – and has a seemingly endless number of Roman walls, some in very good repair. We headed up to a small village in the hills where we chatted with a gentleman who was a relative of one of the Selenes’ owners or the wife of an owner. We were on half board so we had dinner on the outside terrace restaurant: mezze, salad, grilled chicken and köfte. All were good and the portions were too generous to finish. We lingered. We loved the sunset view. Donkeys brayed, chickens clucked, cows lowed and muezzins wailed. Country life.
The next morning we had a walk and then a breakfast that was huge even by Turkish standards. Then we drove to see the spectacular ruins of Didmya, less than an hour away. Didyma was a temple complex, not a city. The ruins largely consist of one well-preserved temple of Apollo that had been constructed on a colossal scale. The surviving pillars are immense in circumference, dwarfing those of the other Greek and Roman ruins we’d seen. We’d arrived fairly early in the morning and had the ruins almost to ourselves for a while. We wandered around, taking photos until the tour buses showed up. Then we drove around the surrounding town, which seemed to consist largely of new, oddly-colored apartment buildings.
We skipped lunch (again) and returned to the Selenes Pensione for a boat trip to the Byzantine monastery and fortress on an island on the lake. The shore along the route was incredibly rocky, with some spectacular boulders. The ruins were awe-inspiring, if only because someone would build a monastery in such a remote and unlikely site – and then have to build a fortress to defend it. Byzantine architecture, by the way, is almost instantly identifiable once you’ve seen it – they built with alternating rows of brick and rough-hewn stone. We spent most the remainder of the day on our balcony, relaxing among the last of our drying laundry. Dinner the second night was mixed mezze (some different from the previous night) and a kind of mixed grill. It was again good and we were treated to another vivid sunset.
Later that evening, we had the bug debacle. Contrary to instructions, we’d forgotten to turn the room light off when we sat outside on the balcony. When we opened the balcony door to re-enter the room, we had dozens of tiny uninvited guests coming with us. They were harmless – they didn’t bite – but uninvited company can be irritating. We spent some time hunting them down and shaking off the bedclothes. Country life. We were ready for some thing a tad less rustic.
Nov 4th, 2013, 01:42 PM
#32
gottravel,
When will you admit that this is all imaginary and that you wish you had taken such a trip?
We have a friend from Atlanta who lives in Bafa town about four months of the year and owns the olive grove above the water cistern and pumping station about a kilometer down from the fork towards Kapikiri. Would have told you but he was back in the States at that time.
Don't you think that those cube shaped boulders just before Kapikiri look like dice from a game the Olympian gods played with their markings eroded or washed away?
When will you admit that this is all imaginary and that you wish you had taken such a trip?
We have a friend from Atlanta who lives in Bafa town about four months of the year and owns the olive grove above the water cistern and pumping station about a kilometer down from the fork towards Kapikiri. Would have told you but he was back in the States at that time.
Don't you think that those cube shaped boulders just before Kapikiri look like dice from a game the Olympian gods played with their markings eroded or washed away?
Nov 4th, 2013, 04:23 PM
#34
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Wow, GT, I have really enjoyed your travel log. You are a wonderful "word picture" painter. I've also enjoyed OC's editorial comments. Fun reading. We are going to Turkey next March, but I'm afraid we will be part of those "touristy hordes" you mention with polite disdain above. No offense taken, believe me. If we had any experience in this part of the world, we might have been brave and attempted an ad lib trip, but chose a Gate 1 tour for our maiden trek there. Hopefully, they are among some of the less obnoxious groups.
I did have a question for either/both you and OC or anyone else who cares to chime in. I read some banter at the top of this thread about "touts." Having traveled extensively in the Caribbean, Mexico and South America, we are used to vendors who are eager to share their wares and relieve you of as much of your money as possible. We usually smile, say "no thanks" or "just looking" politely in the local language, unless of course, we are ready to part with our money for some treasure we can't live without. Is that sort of approach ok in Turkey or is there a better way to see what's available without giving any sort of false hope to the vendors? We have absolutely no idea what things we may fall in love with once there, so if you also have any hints on what is good to look for (or avoid), I'd appreciate that too. I love textiles and ceramics, as well as spices and coffee from anywhere. My husband likes art in all forms.
Thanks again so much for a wonderful read - you really should go pro.
I did have a question for either/both you and OC or anyone else who cares to chime in. I read some banter at the top of this thread about "touts." Having traveled extensively in the Caribbean, Mexico and South America, we are used to vendors who are eager to share their wares and relieve you of as much of your money as possible. We usually smile, say "no thanks" or "just looking" politely in the local language, unless of course, we are ready to part with our money for some treasure we can't live without. Is that sort of approach ok in Turkey or is there a better way to see what's available without giving any sort of false hope to the vendors? We have absolutely no idea what things we may fall in love with once there, so if you also have any hints on what is good to look for (or avoid), I'd appreciate that too. I love textiles and ceramics, as well as spices and coffee from anywhere. My husband likes art in all forms.
Thanks again so much for a wonderful read - you really should go pro.
Nov 4th, 2013, 04:33 PM
#35
Original Poster
Thanks. Caribbean and some Mexican touts we found to be much worse than those in IST. In IST they are soft spoken and polite and don't pressure you. We would just say, "no thanks" or "not interested" and that usually stopped any "touts." Since we wanted to buy a rug we did acquiesce to several and would go into their rug shops. We made it clear we weren't ready to buy which did not seem to dampen their hospitality or their enthusiam. I think your approach sounds just fine, but maybe OC as a local can comment. Once you leave Sultanahmet quarter no one will bother you.
Have a great trip!
Have a great trip!
Nov 4th, 2013, 04:46 PM
#36
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One note: All the touts we met were for carpet shops. They were all very civil. And we like apple tea and looking at carpets. We had a mini-education in Turkish carpets by the time we left Istanbul.
Nov 5th, 2013, 10:10 AM
#37
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Selçuk & Ephesus
We left the Selenes Pensione for Selçuk early the next morning. Early for us, that is. About 9:30 or so. It was to be one of those days on the road that makes road trips the wondrous things they are. Our coastal route took us first to Miletus and the large, well-preserved Roman amphitheater there. The true find of the area was the nearby Ilyas Bey mosque. We’d parked immediately outside the grounds, awakening a guard who waved us in. We had the place to ourselves! This mosque was built in the pre-Ottoman era (1404) using marble taken from Miletus and is a model for beauty in simplicity. There’s little in the way of ornamentation, but what ornamentation there is, is extremely well done. The Arabic-style stone calligraphy over the door is particularly exquisite. Simple, beautiful and empty – except for us. Highly recommended.
Next, we drove through cotton fields to Doğanbey, then out the Dilek Peninsula in search of a national park. We never found the park. The road hugged the low south shore of the peninsula and we drove all the way to the end out of sheer curiosity. We arrived at a seaside restaurant, the Karina Balik. The tables were under palapas on the beach, literally two or three meters from the sea. The kitchen was in a largish stone building across the road. We looked at each other; it was lunchtime and the place was largely empty. We parked, walked over and took a seaside table. A Turkish foursome sharing a bottle of J&B scotch at a nearby table looked at us with some amazement. They asked how we found the restaurant – “not even Turks know about this place.”
A guy from the table took me to see Paşa. Paşa was a foul-tempered monkey tethered to a wall next to the stone building. The turquoise-colored plastic tether was the exact same shade of turquoise as Paşa’s vivid testicles. Somebody – clearly not Paşa - had put some thought into this exercise in color-coordination. We went inside to look at mezze and chose three from an array of twelve or so. We also ordered some fried calamari and a glass of white wine. Everything was delicious.
After our impromptu seaside lunch, we backtracked to Doğanbey and the cotton fields and then took the road on to the ruins of Priene. Priene is a purely Greek site without Roman influence. Although it was easy to figure out the layout of the ancient town, there wasn’t much of it left besides foundations. The one exception was the Temple of Athena, which had few columns standing. Much of the nearby area was scattered with regular segments of the fluted columns, most in fine condition. They had a hole in the middle and the area gave the overall impression of the aftermath of an explosion in a stone cogwheel manufacturing plant. Before visiting Priene, we had briefly stopped by a open-air restaurant for glass of pomegranate and orange juice. We talked a bit with a San Francisco couple who were on the second day of their third trip to Turkey, a ten-day food tour. Although they seemed in fine form, I had a passing bout of sympathy jet lag.
After Priene, the rest of the drive to Selçuk was entirely along the coast. We passed endless multi-storied modern apartment buildings. We passed Kuşadasi, then turned inland to Selçuk and our hotel, Ephesus Suites. Ephesus Suites is a small four-room hotel located on Anton Kallinger Caddesi near the Isabey Mosque and the ruins of the 16th Century hamam, four or five blocks off the route that leads to the lower entrance of the Ephesus ruins. It has a small enclosed garden and four large luxurious rooms. We instantly loved this place, and settled in for a four day stay. After we’d deposited our luggage, we explored old town Ephesus, first having an espresso and a pastry at the pleasant St. John Café, then crossing into the pedestrian section. I found a record store and bought a copy of the Birsan Tezer CD I’d been looking for since hearing her in Kaş. Some of the stores in the pedestrian area were closing down early, as the next day was Kurban Bayrami, the Feast of the Sacrifice, a Muslim religious holiday. (For a couple of days now, we’d seen sheep and goats being carried to various public sites or tethered to people’s homes for the upcoming sacrifice.) Because of our lunch, we skipped dinner that evening, although we did share a dessert at Amazon, a restaurant down the street from the Ephesus Suites – a delicious nutty cake with vanilla ice cream.
We missed almost all of the holiday carnage. After breakfast early on the morning of the holiday, we’d driven to the upper gate of Ephesus only to find it closed; it was opening late due to the holiday. We returned to the hotel. We went to the ruins of the Basilica of Saint John in the late morning and saw a deconstructed sheep in a family’s bloodied courtyard en route. The Basilica of Saint John is the ruins of an early church devoted to, as well as the alleged burying place of, Saint John of Patmos. This Saint John – there are many - was the author of the Book of Revelations, a thinly-veiled screed against the Roman Empire included in the New Testament. The Saint John ruins were extensive and interesting, with a view of overlooking the Isabey mosque. The building must have been enormous in its original form.
By early afternoon, government pickup trucks were driving through the neighborhoods with loud speakers periodically playing a message urging residents to bring out their undesired animal parts. The bed of the pickup truck was a bloody mess of skins, hooves and shiny sheep innards. Shops were reopening.
We returned to the Ephesus ruins in the late afternoon, again driving to the less-crowded upper gate. We really enjoyed the ruins, in particular the roofed terrace section (there’s an additional charge) where we were on a suspended walkway above roofless old Roman houses viewing their mosaic floors and painted walls. The public latrines at Ephesus were also fascinating – we briefly eavesdropped on an English language tour guide explaining how they were a public gathering place and town business was conducted there. The much-photographed Library of Celsus is stunning. Since we’d come in late afternoon, the ruins were not very crowded and became less crowded as the afternoon progressed. The late afternoon light was great for photography and I took dozens and dozens of photographs of largely people-free ruins. All in all, I’d rate the Ephesus ruins as being up there with those of Aphrodisias – and Ephesus is a lot easier to visit.
When we returned in the very late afternoon, we briefly stepped inside the Isabey mosque courtyard – it had high walls, old columns and slanted shadows - and vowed to revisit it in full daylight. That evening we ate at Wallabies, near the aqueduct in the Pedestrian area. There are people of Trip Advisor who like it. We didn’t.
The next day we decided to return to the Dilek Peninsula and the Karina Balik restaurant. We started immediately after breakfast, stopping at an outlet mall in route. I had an espresso at Starbucks; Neil Young was playing on their sound system. We wandered a bit – I found a copy of Birsen Tezer’s other CD – but an outlet mall is an outlet mall is an outlet mall. We left. We arrived at Karina Balik right on time for lunch: More mezze, calamari, an excellent grilled sea bass and some white wine. It was every bit as superb as before. Then came the long drive back to luxuriate in our room. We had a small dinner at Amazon that night: fried cheese, spicy adana kebab and a baklava dessert.
Next morning, we slept in, had a wonderful late breakfast, wandered the pedestrian mall, bought some snacks from a bakery, and bought gifts. Then we undertook a drive to Sirence, a nearby hill village. It turned out to be market day and a tour bus hell – narrow impassable streets filled with buses, cars, tour groups, Turks on holiday, and vendors. I can see Sirence’s attraction and believe that it is a pleasant town most of the time, but we found it nerve-wracking, particularly since we drove through the crowded town once only to find that we had to return by the same route! We finally parked on the outskirts of town, walked around a bit, bought some last minute gifts and then left. Back in Selçuk, we returned to the Isabey mosque. We talked to the kindly former imam – he ran a ceramics shop just outside the mosque – and then checked out the mosque. The actual interior was sparse, undecorated and not very interesting. The courtyard, however, was as beautiful as I remembered from before – much of the construction recycled stone from both the neighboring Basilica of Saint John and Ephesus. Since The Basilica had also extensively recycled stone from Ephesus, there are probably elements at Isabey that had previously been in both sites.
Later, we packed – this was our last night – and went out for a superb dinner at Ejder’s Restaurant, across the pedestrian street from the lamentable Wallabies. Everything was good...stuffed grape leaves, mushrooms with cheese, adana kebab – probably sourced from one of the sacrificial victims - and a perfectly grilled sea bass. And an Efes. The perfect end to a perfect stay in Selçuk.
We left the Selenes Pensione for Selçuk early the next morning. Early for us, that is. About 9:30 or so. It was to be one of those days on the road that makes road trips the wondrous things they are. Our coastal route took us first to Miletus and the large, well-preserved Roman amphitheater there. The true find of the area was the nearby Ilyas Bey mosque. We’d parked immediately outside the grounds, awakening a guard who waved us in. We had the place to ourselves! This mosque was built in the pre-Ottoman era (1404) using marble taken from Miletus and is a model for beauty in simplicity. There’s little in the way of ornamentation, but what ornamentation there is, is extremely well done. The Arabic-style stone calligraphy over the door is particularly exquisite. Simple, beautiful and empty – except for us. Highly recommended.
Next, we drove through cotton fields to Doğanbey, then out the Dilek Peninsula in search of a national park. We never found the park. The road hugged the low south shore of the peninsula and we drove all the way to the end out of sheer curiosity. We arrived at a seaside restaurant, the Karina Balik. The tables were under palapas on the beach, literally two or three meters from the sea. The kitchen was in a largish stone building across the road. We looked at each other; it was lunchtime and the place was largely empty. We parked, walked over and took a seaside table. A Turkish foursome sharing a bottle of J&B scotch at a nearby table looked at us with some amazement. They asked how we found the restaurant – “not even Turks know about this place.”
A guy from the table took me to see Paşa. Paşa was a foul-tempered monkey tethered to a wall next to the stone building. The turquoise-colored plastic tether was the exact same shade of turquoise as Paşa’s vivid testicles. Somebody – clearly not Paşa - had put some thought into this exercise in color-coordination. We went inside to look at mezze and chose three from an array of twelve or so. We also ordered some fried calamari and a glass of white wine. Everything was delicious.
After our impromptu seaside lunch, we backtracked to Doğanbey and the cotton fields and then took the road on to the ruins of Priene. Priene is a purely Greek site without Roman influence. Although it was easy to figure out the layout of the ancient town, there wasn’t much of it left besides foundations. The one exception was the Temple of Athena, which had few columns standing. Much of the nearby area was scattered with regular segments of the fluted columns, most in fine condition. They had a hole in the middle and the area gave the overall impression of the aftermath of an explosion in a stone cogwheel manufacturing plant. Before visiting Priene, we had briefly stopped by a open-air restaurant for glass of pomegranate and orange juice. We talked a bit with a San Francisco couple who were on the second day of their third trip to Turkey, a ten-day food tour. Although they seemed in fine form, I had a passing bout of sympathy jet lag.
After Priene, the rest of the drive to Selçuk was entirely along the coast. We passed endless multi-storied modern apartment buildings. We passed Kuşadasi, then turned inland to Selçuk and our hotel, Ephesus Suites. Ephesus Suites is a small four-room hotel located on Anton Kallinger Caddesi near the Isabey Mosque and the ruins of the 16th Century hamam, four or five blocks off the route that leads to the lower entrance of the Ephesus ruins. It has a small enclosed garden and four large luxurious rooms. We instantly loved this place, and settled in for a four day stay. After we’d deposited our luggage, we explored old town Ephesus, first having an espresso and a pastry at the pleasant St. John Café, then crossing into the pedestrian section. I found a record store and bought a copy of the Birsan Tezer CD I’d been looking for since hearing her in Kaş. Some of the stores in the pedestrian area were closing down early, as the next day was Kurban Bayrami, the Feast of the Sacrifice, a Muslim religious holiday. (For a couple of days now, we’d seen sheep and goats being carried to various public sites or tethered to people’s homes for the upcoming sacrifice.) Because of our lunch, we skipped dinner that evening, although we did share a dessert at Amazon, a restaurant down the street from the Ephesus Suites – a delicious nutty cake with vanilla ice cream.
We missed almost all of the holiday carnage. After breakfast early on the morning of the holiday, we’d driven to the upper gate of Ephesus only to find it closed; it was opening late due to the holiday. We returned to the hotel. We went to the ruins of the Basilica of Saint John in the late morning and saw a deconstructed sheep in a family’s bloodied courtyard en route. The Basilica of Saint John is the ruins of an early church devoted to, as well as the alleged burying place of, Saint John of Patmos. This Saint John – there are many - was the author of the Book of Revelations, a thinly-veiled screed against the Roman Empire included in the New Testament. The Saint John ruins were extensive and interesting, with a view of overlooking the Isabey mosque. The building must have been enormous in its original form.
By early afternoon, government pickup trucks were driving through the neighborhoods with loud speakers periodically playing a message urging residents to bring out their undesired animal parts. The bed of the pickup truck was a bloody mess of skins, hooves and shiny sheep innards. Shops were reopening.
We returned to the Ephesus ruins in the late afternoon, again driving to the less-crowded upper gate. We really enjoyed the ruins, in particular the roofed terrace section (there’s an additional charge) where we were on a suspended walkway above roofless old Roman houses viewing their mosaic floors and painted walls. The public latrines at Ephesus were also fascinating – we briefly eavesdropped on an English language tour guide explaining how they were a public gathering place and town business was conducted there. The much-photographed Library of Celsus is stunning. Since we’d come in late afternoon, the ruins were not very crowded and became less crowded as the afternoon progressed. The late afternoon light was great for photography and I took dozens and dozens of photographs of largely people-free ruins. All in all, I’d rate the Ephesus ruins as being up there with those of Aphrodisias – and Ephesus is a lot easier to visit.
When we returned in the very late afternoon, we briefly stepped inside the Isabey mosque courtyard – it had high walls, old columns and slanted shadows - and vowed to revisit it in full daylight. That evening we ate at Wallabies, near the aqueduct in the Pedestrian area. There are people of Trip Advisor who like it. We didn’t.
The next day we decided to return to the Dilek Peninsula and the Karina Balik restaurant. We started immediately after breakfast, stopping at an outlet mall in route. I had an espresso at Starbucks; Neil Young was playing on their sound system. We wandered a bit – I found a copy of Birsen Tezer’s other CD – but an outlet mall is an outlet mall is an outlet mall. We left. We arrived at Karina Balik right on time for lunch: More mezze, calamari, an excellent grilled sea bass and some white wine. It was every bit as superb as before. Then came the long drive back to luxuriate in our room. We had a small dinner at Amazon that night: fried cheese, spicy adana kebab and a baklava dessert.
Next morning, we slept in, had a wonderful late breakfast, wandered the pedestrian mall, bought some snacks from a bakery, and bought gifts. Then we undertook a drive to Sirence, a nearby hill village. It turned out to be market day and a tour bus hell – narrow impassable streets filled with buses, cars, tour groups, Turks on holiday, and vendors. I can see Sirence’s attraction and believe that it is a pleasant town most of the time, but we found it nerve-wracking, particularly since we drove through the crowded town once only to find that we had to return by the same route! We finally parked on the outskirts of town, walked around a bit, bought some last minute gifts and then left. Back in Selçuk, we returned to the Isabey mosque. We talked to the kindly former imam – he ran a ceramics shop just outside the mosque – and then checked out the mosque. The actual interior was sparse, undecorated and not very interesting. The courtyard, however, was as beautiful as I remembered from before – much of the construction recycled stone from both the neighboring Basilica of Saint John and Ephesus. Since The Basilica had also extensively recycled stone from Ephesus, there are probably elements at Isabey that had previously been in both sites.
Later, we packed – this was our last night – and went out for a superb dinner at Ejder’s Restaurant, across the pedestrian street from the lamentable Wallabies. Everything was good...stuffed grape leaves, mushrooms with cheese, adana kebab – probably sourced from one of the sacrificial victims - and a perfectly grilled sea bass. And an Efes. The perfect end to a perfect stay in Selçuk.
Nov 5th, 2013, 10:45 AM
#38
And a perfect addition to your excellent, and oh-so-helpful, TR.
You seem balanced in your reactions to sites and restaurants and drives....and towns, which provides one the opportunity to modify plans and expectations. And just reading your descriptions is a terrific travelog in itself. Just great !
You seem balanced in your reactions to sites and restaurants and drives....and towns, which provides one the opportunity to modify plans and expectations. And just reading your descriptions is a terrific travelog in itself. Just great !
Nov 6th, 2013, 07:50 AM
#40
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Last Days in Istanbul
We had a late breakfast and a late morning drive to Izmir and the airport. This was our last view of the beautiful mountains of Anatolia. We returned our rental car without issue. Despite our dilatory tactics, we were still early for our flight so we checked into the “CIP Lounge” for 25 TL per person. The WiFi and snacks made it worthwhile, particularly since it turned out that our flight was delayed for almost two hours. Eventually, we boarded our plane and were off. The flight was short and uneventful.
Our hotel this time was La Sagrada, on the other side of the Golden Horn. We’d chosen this hotel for the large rooms and enormous beds as well as its proximity to both the Osmanbey Metro stop and the stylish Nişantaşi neighborhood. We checked in and were soon ensconced in a luxurious room overlooking a broad avenue. We changed clothes and headed out. We had 8:00 dinner reservations this evening at the Leb-I Derya Restaurant on the roof of the Richmond Hotel at the far end of the Istikal Caddesi pedestrian street. This entailed taking the subway one stop from Osmanbey to the Taksim Square stop, then walking down the Istikal Caddesi pedestrian street. The subway portion worked effortlessly. We hadn’t counted on the Friday night crowds on Istikal Caddesi; it was slow going. We arrived a little late.
It felt odd eating in a high-end restaurant after weeks of informal dining. After initially being seated away from the windows, we’d scored a window table with an incredible view of the city falling away below us down to the Bosporus Strait. The food was superb, a modern take on Turkish cuisine. We had eggplant puree with goat cheese, lamb şiş with pomegranate marinade served over risotto and a mixed lamb and chicken kebab with grilled peppers served over eggplant. We accompanied it with a glasses of rose and white wines. The meal came at DC prices, but it was worth it. The foot traffic had thinned on Istikal Caddesi by the time we left and we made good time returning to the Taksim Square Metro.
The next day we breakfasted on simits from a nearby bakery and had espresso at a coffee bar across the street. We briefly explored the Nişantaşi neighborhood as we turned down Rumeli Caddesi and stayed on the same street – but followed a sequence of name changes - to arrive at the waterfront near the entrance to the Dolmabahçe, the “new palace” built in the mid-19th Century. We checked out the grounds around the entry way and then bought tickets for the 12:00 English language Selamlik tour. The Selamlik tour focuses on the state rooms and the ceremonial halls. It also includes a visit to the room where Ataturk died in 1938. Unfortunately, once the tour started we had a hard time following our soft-spoken guide, in part due to the size of our group and in part due to the energetic noises made by several small children in it. The Dolmabahçe – I’m not quite sure how to put this – feels almost imported, rather than Turkish like the Topkapi. There’s a kind of lavish rococo extravagance to it. Coupled with the immense scale (it’s one of the largest buildings I’ve ever been in), it borders on the overwhelming. The most interesting section, in my opinion, was Ataturk’s bedroom in the three room section of the immense palace that the founder of the Turkish republic had sometimes stayed in. The clock is stopped at the hour of his death and his deathbed is covered with a Turkish flag. After the tour, we walked the grounds by the Bosporus; it was easy to see why the Dolmabahçe had been built where it was. The views were stunning.
To avoid the long uphill climb, we took a cab back to our hotel. We had a late lunch at one café – I had my first döner kebab in over three weeks - and then pastries and tea at the nearby House Café. (Perversely enough, the best döner kebab I’ve ever had was in Halifax, Nova Scotia.) We walked around some, but rather than undertake extensive Nişantaşi explorations, we had a nap that afternoon.
That evening we took a cab to our dinner at Lokanta Maya. Lokanta Maya (Kemankeş Caddesi #35) was in a small waterfront neighborhood close to the Galata Bridge; our cabdriver was unfamiliar with the street and we had to show him our destination on YT’s iPhone. Once we got there, the traffic was so heavy that we paid off our driver a couple of blocks from our destination and went the rest of the way there on foot. The meal we had that Saturday night was the culinary highlight of our trip, a testimony to what can be done with what may be the world’s freshest ingredients. We started with crispy fresh anchovies and zucchini fritters. Both were sublime. We followed with caramelized sea bass (!) and a lamb leg with polenta. Both were superb, simply superb. We accompanied dinner with a bottle of nice local merlot (I didn’t note the name in my prandial stupor). We finished with a shared dessert of mattique pudding, ice cream and sour cherry sauce.
We decided to take the metro back. Rather than take the funicular (the “Tunel”) up to the Șişhane metro station, we decided to scale the heights on foot. It was an exhausting walk up from the area near the Galata Bridge. We paused for breath once, looked about and found ourselves a block from the Galata Tower, one of Istanbul’s most iconic landmarks. We considered visiting – it’s open at night and is supposed to have a fantastic view – but shook our heads and continued our ascent. We almost jumped for joy when we saw people entering the Șişhane metro stop. All of our southbound metro trains had been marked for Taksim Square; we didn’t know if the trains even ran one stop further to Șişhane. We thought perhaps it had been closed. It turned out that, due to what I can only assume to be track work, the train from Șişhane only runs one stop to Taksim. Then one can transfer to another train for onward stops, including Osmanbey, via the simple expedient of walking through a tunnel to the opposite side of the platform.
The next day was the final day of our trip. We had a last breakfast of simits and made our now familiar way on foot down to the waterfront near the Dolmabahçe and walked to the Istanbul Modern Museum – we paused at one point to take photos of one Istanbul’s colored staircases. After four weeks of constant visits to historic sights, it was a pleasure to visit the Istanbul Modern. This is a superb collection of 20th Century painting. As fortune would have it, the adjacent building was hosting the last day of the Istanbul Biennial. I’ve a generally dubious outlook about contemporary (as opposed to modern) art, but the Biennial show was one of the best of its kind I’ve seen. After our visit(s), we walked up the Bosporus to the Kabataş to meet otherchelebi and his charming wife at 3:00 for a mid-afternoon lunch/dinner. I was amazed in the number of people who now crowded the strait-side park; it had been close to empty three or four hours earlier.
The four of us took a ferry from the Kabataş waterfront to the Asian side of the Bosporus (I think to Üsküdar, judging from my map) for the grand sum of 3 TL per person. From there we took a cab to the Ismet Baba restaurant. Ismet Baba was a fish restaurant housed in an old weathered wooden building. We had mezze – I didn’t take notes, but the tuna and the calamari were memorable standouts - and grilled fish, accompanied by some tasty Yeni Raki. After our meal, we wandered around the colorful Kuzguncuk neighborhood, taking photos of the old Ottoman-style houses and the brightly painted walls. Then we took a cab to the ferry and the ferry back to Kabataş. OC gave us a ride back to our hotel.
That evening, we tried to go to our hotel rooftop to see the full moon. As it turned out, the La Sagrada rooftop was closed Sundays. We rushed down Rumeli Caddesi to the Sofia Hotel, a beautiful modernist hotel with a rooftop lounge. There we were treated to the view we had been seeking: the full moon above the ever-changing colors of the Bosporus Bridge. This is how we will remember Istanbul.
We had a late breakfast and a late morning drive to Izmir and the airport. This was our last view of the beautiful mountains of Anatolia. We returned our rental car without issue. Despite our dilatory tactics, we were still early for our flight so we checked into the “CIP Lounge” for 25 TL per person. The WiFi and snacks made it worthwhile, particularly since it turned out that our flight was delayed for almost two hours. Eventually, we boarded our plane and were off. The flight was short and uneventful.
Our hotel this time was La Sagrada, on the other side of the Golden Horn. We’d chosen this hotel for the large rooms and enormous beds as well as its proximity to both the Osmanbey Metro stop and the stylish Nişantaşi neighborhood. We checked in and were soon ensconced in a luxurious room overlooking a broad avenue. We changed clothes and headed out. We had 8:00 dinner reservations this evening at the Leb-I Derya Restaurant on the roof of the Richmond Hotel at the far end of the Istikal Caddesi pedestrian street. This entailed taking the subway one stop from Osmanbey to the Taksim Square stop, then walking down the Istikal Caddesi pedestrian street. The subway portion worked effortlessly. We hadn’t counted on the Friday night crowds on Istikal Caddesi; it was slow going. We arrived a little late.
It felt odd eating in a high-end restaurant after weeks of informal dining. After initially being seated away from the windows, we’d scored a window table with an incredible view of the city falling away below us down to the Bosporus Strait. The food was superb, a modern take on Turkish cuisine. We had eggplant puree with goat cheese, lamb şiş with pomegranate marinade served over risotto and a mixed lamb and chicken kebab with grilled peppers served over eggplant. We accompanied it with a glasses of rose and white wines. The meal came at DC prices, but it was worth it. The foot traffic had thinned on Istikal Caddesi by the time we left and we made good time returning to the Taksim Square Metro.
The next day we breakfasted on simits from a nearby bakery and had espresso at a coffee bar across the street. We briefly explored the Nişantaşi neighborhood as we turned down Rumeli Caddesi and stayed on the same street – but followed a sequence of name changes - to arrive at the waterfront near the entrance to the Dolmabahçe, the “new palace” built in the mid-19th Century. We checked out the grounds around the entry way and then bought tickets for the 12:00 English language Selamlik tour. The Selamlik tour focuses on the state rooms and the ceremonial halls. It also includes a visit to the room where Ataturk died in 1938. Unfortunately, once the tour started we had a hard time following our soft-spoken guide, in part due to the size of our group and in part due to the energetic noises made by several small children in it. The Dolmabahçe – I’m not quite sure how to put this – feels almost imported, rather than Turkish like the Topkapi. There’s a kind of lavish rococo extravagance to it. Coupled with the immense scale (it’s one of the largest buildings I’ve ever been in), it borders on the overwhelming. The most interesting section, in my opinion, was Ataturk’s bedroom in the three room section of the immense palace that the founder of the Turkish republic had sometimes stayed in. The clock is stopped at the hour of his death and his deathbed is covered with a Turkish flag. After the tour, we walked the grounds by the Bosporus; it was easy to see why the Dolmabahçe had been built where it was. The views were stunning.
To avoid the long uphill climb, we took a cab back to our hotel. We had a late lunch at one café – I had my first döner kebab in over three weeks - and then pastries and tea at the nearby House Café. (Perversely enough, the best döner kebab I’ve ever had was in Halifax, Nova Scotia.) We walked around some, but rather than undertake extensive Nişantaşi explorations, we had a nap that afternoon.
That evening we took a cab to our dinner at Lokanta Maya. Lokanta Maya (Kemankeş Caddesi #35) was in a small waterfront neighborhood close to the Galata Bridge; our cabdriver was unfamiliar with the street and we had to show him our destination on YT’s iPhone. Once we got there, the traffic was so heavy that we paid off our driver a couple of blocks from our destination and went the rest of the way there on foot. The meal we had that Saturday night was the culinary highlight of our trip, a testimony to what can be done with what may be the world’s freshest ingredients. We started with crispy fresh anchovies and zucchini fritters. Both were sublime. We followed with caramelized sea bass (!) and a lamb leg with polenta. Both were superb, simply superb. We accompanied dinner with a bottle of nice local merlot (I didn’t note the name in my prandial stupor). We finished with a shared dessert of mattique pudding, ice cream and sour cherry sauce.
We decided to take the metro back. Rather than take the funicular (the “Tunel”) up to the Șişhane metro station, we decided to scale the heights on foot. It was an exhausting walk up from the area near the Galata Bridge. We paused for breath once, looked about and found ourselves a block from the Galata Tower, one of Istanbul’s most iconic landmarks. We considered visiting – it’s open at night and is supposed to have a fantastic view – but shook our heads and continued our ascent. We almost jumped for joy when we saw people entering the Șişhane metro stop. All of our southbound metro trains had been marked for Taksim Square; we didn’t know if the trains even ran one stop further to Șişhane. We thought perhaps it had been closed. It turned out that, due to what I can only assume to be track work, the train from Șişhane only runs one stop to Taksim. Then one can transfer to another train for onward stops, including Osmanbey, via the simple expedient of walking through a tunnel to the opposite side of the platform.
The next day was the final day of our trip. We had a last breakfast of simits and made our now familiar way on foot down to the waterfront near the Dolmabahçe and walked to the Istanbul Modern Museum – we paused at one point to take photos of one Istanbul’s colored staircases. After four weeks of constant visits to historic sights, it was a pleasure to visit the Istanbul Modern. This is a superb collection of 20th Century painting. As fortune would have it, the adjacent building was hosting the last day of the Istanbul Biennial. I’ve a generally dubious outlook about contemporary (as opposed to modern) art, but the Biennial show was one of the best of its kind I’ve seen. After our visit(s), we walked up the Bosporus to the Kabataş to meet otherchelebi and his charming wife at 3:00 for a mid-afternoon lunch/dinner. I was amazed in the number of people who now crowded the strait-side park; it had been close to empty three or four hours earlier.
The four of us took a ferry from the Kabataş waterfront to the Asian side of the Bosporus (I think to Üsküdar, judging from my map) for the grand sum of 3 TL per person. From there we took a cab to the Ismet Baba restaurant. Ismet Baba was a fish restaurant housed in an old weathered wooden building. We had mezze – I didn’t take notes, but the tuna and the calamari were memorable standouts - and grilled fish, accompanied by some tasty Yeni Raki. After our meal, we wandered around the colorful Kuzguncuk neighborhood, taking photos of the old Ottoman-style houses and the brightly painted walls. Then we took a cab to the ferry and the ferry back to Kabataş. OC gave us a ride back to our hotel.
That evening, we tried to go to our hotel rooftop to see the full moon. As it turned out, the La Sagrada rooftop was closed Sundays. We rushed down Rumeli Caddesi to the Sofia Hotel, a beautiful modernist hotel with a rooftop lounge. There we were treated to the view we had been seeking: the full moon above the ever-changing colors of the Bosporus Bridge. This is how we will remember Istanbul.
