We left Konya at noon and reached Antalya at 5. All we needed to do was pick up a rental car, and we'd be off.
True to the unplanned nature of our trip, we had not reserved a car in advance. We also had not researched car rental companies because it didn't occur to us that none of the names we know would be there. Enterprise will not pick you up in Turkey.
We find one rental car stand at the otogar. For three full days and returning the car in Selçuk, 500 lira. Well, that's just ridiculous. Way more than we'd planned on spending. (Note to self: when everything to this point has cost way more than you planned, it's ok to stop being surprised.)
Our guide book says there are lots of car rental agencies in the city center, so we find the metro and head over there. Two hours later, it occurs to me that we probably could have just gone to the airport...hindsight is 20/20.
As we start to wander around, a man comes up and offers to help us find whatever we're looking for. Having recently been exposed to extremely helpful people, we temporarily forgot that some people are just out to get your money. He takes us to one agency that we had read was recommended. But they're only a local company and so won't let us drop the car off in another city. So we follow the tout to another agency. Where the only person who speaks any English is the tout. And the owner attempts to rip us off to the tune of 800 lira. We talk them down to 600, then we just walk out, annoyed.
By this time, hubby is paranoid about renting from an agency that can't give us paperwork in English, so we direct our efforts towards finding an international company. This is when we discovered that, while very few of these people speak English, a lot of them speak German. A random language if ever there was one. Pretty much every other language out there is spoken in more countries than German. But I digress.
Finally we come across a restaurateur who both recommends a rental company and gets rid of the tout who has been chasing us trying to get us to follow him back to the agency he took us to. On our way to find the recommended company, we come across a travel agent who gives us directions. We find the company, but their office is closed. Completely fed up, we find our way back to the travel agent who, wonder of all wonders, also rents cars. He speaks English, his paperwork is in English, I can't walk another step with my pack on my back, so we go with it. Even though he's more expensive than the company at the otogar (again with the hindsight). And even though we have to drop the car off one day (and one city) earlier in order to afford it.
Once we secure the car, we go to book bus tickets from the city where we're now leaving the car to the city where we'd planned to leave the car. And the only bus with space leaves about 8 hours earlier than we'd planned. Which means we'd have to condense all the cities leading up to that.
Once the car is booked, the bus is booked, and we've picked up something to eat for dinner, we finally notice how the city looks. The main roads are lined with big name-brand stores. The inside roads are narrow and twisting stone alleyways, reminiscent of old European cities.
We finally hit the road and drive the hour to Çıralı. Once we exit the highway and start driving along the narrow mountainous road that leads to the town, we're relieved that we didn't come by bus, which drops you on the side of the highway leaving you to fend for yourself. After about half an hour of trying to navigate the twisting road in the dark with a complete lack of signs to guide us (and where there are signs they're completely misleading), we arrive at the "pension" (one step up from a hostel in that you don't have to share a room with strangers...otherwise they're pretty much the same) where we'd planned to stay. But of course we didn't call ahead and they're full. The owner calls over to another pension she recommends, then gets in our car with us to lead us there. Once we secure the room, we drop her off at her home and head to the path to the Chimaera.
The Chimaera, or "Burning Rock," is a cluster of flames that blaze spontaneously from crevices on the slope of Mt Olympos, caused by gas seeping from the earth. We grab our flashlight and start the hour climb up the steep rocky path. By this time, it's almost midnight and we are the only people in the vicinity. Which is both incredibly peaceful and scary as hell. Surrounded by nature and sweet-smelling air in the quiet coolness of night...what if one of us falls off the edge of the path or a dangerous animal comes out of the woods!?
We make the hike in the middle of the night because, obviously, flames are more visible at night. In Hawaii, we'd gone to see the active lava flows and ended up there during the daylight hours. They kept tourists at a safe distance and we couldn't see a damn thing. Expecting it to be like that, we didn't want to miss out by hiking during the day. So even though we're exhausted, we hike an hour through dark woods up the side of a mountain to see the flames.
Oh. My. God. Very few sights are worth the effort it takes to get to them. They're beautiful and all, but could you have done without if you'd known you'd have to climb 3,000 steps? Yes, yes you could.
But not this. This is more beautiful than anything I've ever seen in my life.
This not being the U.S., tourists aren't treated like fragile little things that would surely get themselves killed when left to their own devices. So instead of some distant lookout point where you can kinda see spots of fire on the mountainside, here you can walk right up to the flames. And hike around the flames. And actually BE in this wondrous beautiful place.
The next morning, we noticed the abundance of orange and pomegranate trees in the town, and treated ourselves to fresh juice on our way out.
From Çıralı, we started our drove down the Mediterranean coast. The coastline was very much like the coast of California, with the sea meeting the base of mountains.
Road closures forced us to drive through the seaside town of Kaş instead of just past it, so we stopped at their otogar to book our tickets from Selçuk to Istanbul. Each and every bus company in Kaş nearly laughed us out of the place.
You see, due to our exquisite planning, our last few days in Turkey coincided with Eid al-Adha, the single most important religious holiday in the country. A time when everyone travels home to see family. And we were attempting to book bus tickets two days in advance. There were none to be had. We would be stuck in Selçuk if we didn't come up with something fast. This was, surprisingly, the only time I freaked out about the complete lack of planning. I must be growing.
Kaş, however, was a beautiful detour.
From there we stopped in the ancient city of Patara, the birthplace of Santa Claus. I mean...Saint Nicholas. Birthplace of Saint Nicholas. Anyhoo...
Patara has some of the best ruins in the area, and has the longest uninterrupted beach in Turkey.
After climbing to the top of the theater, we climbed farther up the hill and scrambled up a smooth, slippery, giant boulder to get a better vantage point.
But then we had to climb back down. Big slippery rocks. With no hand or footholds to speak of. Did I mention they were steep? And tall? After a minor panic attack, hubby pretty much carried me down. Such are the joys of having no fear of heights, but a debilitating fear of falling.
The beach was gorgeous:
As were the rest of the ruins:
From Patara, we continued our drive to Fethiye, where we managed to secure bus tickets from Selçuk to Istanbul, though for a day later than we'd hoped. So we had to go to Selçuk earlier than planned, and leave later than planned. You know that expression about making plans? Yeah, I could hear God laughing all the way from Fethiye.
From there, we drove around and around a mountain to the tiny village of Faralya, on the edge of Butterfly Valley (so named for the hordes of Jersey tiger butterflies that live there, which we of course didn't get to see because it was too late in the year). We actually had a reservation this time (we'd called and made that from Kaş), and the wife of the pension owner made us quite a spread for dinner.
In the middle of the meal, hubby suddenly gets quiet and says "don't look up." So, like any normal 5 year old, I immediately look up. And see a winged creature flying around the room above our heads. Just as I'm praying it's some kind of bird, hubby confirms my fear...it's a bat.
I've seen bats before, but flying high above the treetops in my parents' yard. Not flying low above my head in a dining room. Suddenly, the ceiling seemed unusually low. We were already sitting on the floor, but as the bat swooped back and forth I hit the deck. Making myself as low and flat as humanly possible without actually digging a hole in the floor, I covered my head and whimpered.
It was a great day for my reputation in the eyes of my husband. First I can't climb down off a rock for fear I'll slip and fall, and then I cower when faced with a bat. I'm so tough I even impress myself.
Finally, we head to bed in our heat-free freezing cold room. Which also lacked hot water, we discovered in the morning.
Hours spent walking around Antalya, hiking an hour each way in the dark in Çıralı, stopping in Kaş, climbing the ruins of Patara, Fethiye, Faralya, and driving 285km along the coast and mountains...did I mention this was all within 24 hours?
True to the unplanned nature of our trip, we had not reserved a car in advance. We also had not researched car rental companies because it didn't occur to us that none of the names we know would be there. Enterprise will not pick you up in Turkey.
We find one rental car stand at the otogar. For three full days and returning the car in Selçuk, 500 lira. Well, that's just ridiculous. Way more than we'd planned on spending. (Note to self: when everything to this point has cost way more than you planned, it's ok to stop being surprised.)
Our guide book says there are lots of car rental agencies in the city center, so we find the metro and head over there. Two hours later, it occurs to me that we probably could have just gone to the airport...hindsight is 20/20.
As we start to wander around, a man comes up and offers to help us find whatever we're looking for. Having recently been exposed to extremely helpful people, we temporarily forgot that some people are just out to get your money. He takes us to one agency that we had read was recommended. But they're only a local company and so won't let us drop the car off in another city. So we follow the tout to another agency. Where the only person who speaks any English is the tout. And the owner attempts to rip us off to the tune of 800 lira. We talk them down to 600, then we just walk out, annoyed.
By this time, hubby is paranoid about renting from an agency that can't give us paperwork in English, so we direct our efforts towards finding an international company. This is when we discovered that, while very few of these people speak English, a lot of them speak German. A random language if ever there was one. Pretty much every other language out there is spoken in more countries than German. But I digress.
Finally we come across a restaurateur who both recommends a rental company and gets rid of the tout who has been chasing us trying to get us to follow him back to the agency he took us to. On our way to find the recommended company, we come across a travel agent who gives us directions. We find the company, but their office is closed. Completely fed up, we find our way back to the travel agent who, wonder of all wonders, also rents cars. He speaks English, his paperwork is in English, I can't walk another step with my pack on my back, so we go with it. Even though he's more expensive than the company at the otogar (again with the hindsight). And even though we have to drop the car off one day (and one city) earlier in order to afford it.
Once we secure the car, we go to book bus tickets from the city where we're now leaving the car to the city where we'd planned to leave the car. And the only bus with space leaves about 8 hours earlier than we'd planned. Which means we'd have to condense all the cities leading up to that.
Once the car is booked, the bus is booked, and we've picked up something to eat for dinner, we finally notice how the city looks. The main roads are lined with big name-brand stores. The inside roads are narrow and twisting stone alleyways, reminiscent of old European cities.
 |
| The only thing we thought to photograph. Note that I'm so fascinated I'm reading the map... |
We finally hit the road and drive the hour to Çıralı. Once we exit the highway and start driving along the narrow mountainous road that leads to the town, we're relieved that we didn't come by bus, which drops you on the side of the highway leaving you to fend for yourself. After about half an hour of trying to navigate the twisting road in the dark with a complete lack of signs to guide us (and where there are signs they're completely misleading), we arrive at the "pension" (one step up from a hostel in that you don't have to share a room with strangers...otherwise they're pretty much the same) where we'd planned to stay. But of course we didn't call ahead and they're full. The owner calls over to another pension she recommends, then gets in our car with us to lead us there. Once we secure the room, we drop her off at her home and head to the path to the Chimaera.
The Chimaera, or "Burning Rock," is a cluster of flames that blaze spontaneously from crevices on the slope of Mt Olympos, caused by gas seeping from the earth. We grab our flashlight and start the hour climb up the steep rocky path. By this time, it's almost midnight and we are the only people in the vicinity. Which is both incredibly peaceful and scary as hell. Surrounded by nature and sweet-smelling air in the quiet coolness of night...what if one of us falls off the edge of the path or a dangerous animal comes out of the woods!?
We make the hike in the middle of the night because, obviously, flames are more visible at night. In Hawaii, we'd gone to see the active lava flows and ended up there during the daylight hours. They kept tourists at a safe distance and we couldn't see a damn thing. Expecting it to be like that, we didn't want to miss out by hiking during the day. So even though we're exhausted, we hike an hour through dark woods up the side of a mountain to see the flames.
Oh. My. God. Very few sights are worth the effort it takes to get to them. They're beautiful and all, but could you have done without if you'd known you'd have to climb 3,000 steps? Yes, yes you could.
But not this. This is more beautiful than anything I've ever seen in my life.
This not being the U.S., tourists aren't treated like fragile little things that would surely get themselves killed when left to their own devices. So instead of some distant lookout point where you can kinda see spots of fire on the mountainside, here you can walk right up to the flames. And hike around the flames. And actually BE in this wondrous beautiful place.
The next morning, we noticed the abundance of orange and pomegranate trees in the town, and treated ourselves to fresh juice on our way out.
 |
| The abundance of completely unhelpful signs we encountered on our way |
From Çıralı, we started our drove down the Mediterranean coast. The coastline was very much like the coast of California, with the sea meeting the base of mountains.
Road closures forced us to drive through the seaside town of Kaş instead of just past it, so we stopped at their otogar to book our tickets from Selçuk to Istanbul. Each and every bus company in Kaş nearly laughed us out of the place.
You see, due to our exquisite planning, our last few days in Turkey coincided with Eid al-Adha, the single most important religious holiday in the country. A time when everyone travels home to see family. And we were attempting to book bus tickets two days in advance. There were none to be had. We would be stuck in Selçuk if we didn't come up with something fast. This was, surprisingly, the only time I freaked out about the complete lack of planning. I must be growing.
Kaş, however, was a beautiful detour.
From there we stopped in the ancient city of Patara, the birthplace of Santa Claus. I mean...Saint Nicholas. Birthplace of Saint Nicholas. Anyhoo...
Patara has some of the best ruins in the area, and has the longest uninterrupted beach in Turkey.
After climbing to the top of the theater, we climbed farther up the hill and scrambled up a smooth, slippery, giant boulder to get a better vantage point.
But then we had to climb back down. Big slippery rocks. With no hand or footholds to speak of. Did I mention they were steep? And tall? After a minor panic attack, hubby pretty much carried me down. Such are the joys of having no fear of heights, but a debilitating fear of falling.
The beach was gorgeous:
As were the rest of the ruins:
From Patara, we continued our drive to Fethiye, where we managed to secure bus tickets from Selçuk to Istanbul, though for a day later than we'd hoped. So we had to go to Selçuk earlier than planned, and leave later than planned. You know that expression about making plans? Yeah, I could hear God laughing all the way from Fethiye.
From there, we drove around and around a mountain to the tiny village of Faralya, on the edge of Butterfly Valley (so named for the hordes of Jersey tiger butterflies that live there, which we of course didn't get to see because it was too late in the year). We actually had a reservation this time (we'd called and made that from Kaş), and the wife of the pension owner made us quite a spread for dinner.
In the middle of the meal, hubby suddenly gets quiet and says "don't look up." So, like any normal 5 year old, I immediately look up. And see a winged creature flying around the room above our heads. Just as I'm praying it's some kind of bird, hubby confirms my fear...it's a bat.
I've seen bats before, but flying high above the treetops in my parents' yard. Not flying low above my head in a dining room. Suddenly, the ceiling seemed unusually low. We were already sitting on the floor, but as the bat swooped back and forth I hit the deck. Making myself as low and flat as humanly possible without actually digging a hole in the floor, I covered my head and whimpered.
It was a great day for my reputation in the eyes of my husband. First I can't climb down off a rock for fear I'll slip and fall, and then I cower when faced with a bat. I'm so tough I even impress myself.
Finally, we head to bed in our heat-free freezing cold room. Which also lacked hot water, we discovered in the morning.
Hours spent walking around Antalya, hiking an hour each way in the dark in Çıralı, stopping in Kaş, climbing the ruins of Patara, Fethiye, Faralya, and driving 285km along the coast and mountains...did I mention this was all within 24 hours?
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