Days 8-9: Kas

There was another delayed start in Antalya as the front license plate of our mini bus had been stolen overnight; after waiting a while for the police to come we eventually just piled in and drove to the station ourselves. Our driver told Jen that in ten years of driving for Intrepid he had never had so many things go wrong on one trip. He had been great, helping our injured people in and out of the bus and keeping a friendly smile on his face all the time. Once the police were sorted out, we had a magnificent drive snaking along the coast and through lush valleys. There was an early lunch stop for gozleme (Turkish pancakes) by a lake and then we stopped again an hour or so later at Mira, home of St Nicholas and also some brilliant Lycian ruins. We paid 5 lira to look at the tombs carved into the rock face and also an amazing outdoor theatre. I remember thinking how incredible it was that the basic design for theatres hasn’t changed at all, and even back in ancient time there was an effort made to create a grand and beautiful space. Theatres have always had such a sense of occasion about them.

We got into Kas about 3pm that afternoon, to a hotel not quite as nice as Antalya but the room had a little balcony with a lovely view of the ocean. Jen took us for one of her orientation walks through the town, which was quite small and concentrated around the harbour with cobblestoned streets and lots of shops. We had a late lunch by the water and then Toby and I went down a little path trying to find a beach. It turned out Kas’s coastline was just rocks. We were accosted by a ‘friendly’ man who invited us to his free beach and when we said no, started to open his satchel and said, ‘Well then I have some presents for you.’ We just ran away. Toby didn’t really mind as the man acted so nice, but I found it far more intimidating and manipulative than the shopkeepers who are obviously aggressive; I just didn’t trust it. Toby rested in the afternoon as he still wasn’t feeling well, and I went in search of a beach for some journal time. But the one over the road from the hotel was a beach/restaurant, very popular in Kas where there is a café overlooking the water and you can lie on a beach chair. But I assume the pressure to buy something is enormous, so I ended up on the terrace of our hotel, all closed in to the elements but entirely glass so the view was wonderful.

Jen took us to one of her favourite restaurants for dinner; the girl who’d broken her ankle had decided to fly home so it was her final meal with us. The place was called Mama’s, even though the girl who seemed to be in charge was probably thirty years old. The speciality of the house was called Mama’s Pastry; either meat or mushrooms mixed with cheese and then wrapped in thin pastry, coated in breadcrumbs and deep-fried. At least I think that’s how they did it; apparently she refuses to share the recipe. It was delicious. The other memorable part of the meal was a dip made of grated carrot, yoghurt and cooked zucchini flesh (no seeds). It was a meal that made me realise that after a week, I still wasn’t sick of Turkish food and had no hankering for spaghetti bolognaise or anything else, like some other people in the group. I found the food varied and seasonal and fresh, and almost always with perfect spices. Yum.

Toby and I got up early the next morning to farewell the girl going home; Toby had to help her down the stairs so I went to say goodbye. We were sad to see her go but she seemed happy with her decision, especially as her insurance company had arranged for her to fly business class with Emirates (a later email from her said she’d been upgraded to first class and would never be able to fly cattle class again). We went back to bed for a while and later ate breakfast in the terrace of the hotel (I remember their hard boiled eggs had been halved and sprinkled with paprika and dill, a nice change from the usual plain eggs, and the tomato wedges were mixed with perfect fresh basil, and as well as plain bread there were triangles of puff pastry you could pull open and fill with cheese or honey or whatever). After breakfast, we walked into town to get on our private boat for the day. This day ended up being one of our favourites of the entire trip as it was so relaxing and beautiful. You are forced to relax and enjoy the view; I suppose you could take a book or your MP3 or even a laptop but I really think it would ruin the experience. We stopped in a little cove mid-morning and Toby and I and another couple swam, even though it was freezing. The water was the most amazing colour of blue. We got back on the boat to another cove where you could swim to land and a few people did, but by then I was dry and warm and happy to stay on board. While we were anchored there they served us lunch – big salads and bread and kebabs and meatballs they barbequed on a gas burner set up on the gang plank. Another boat had the same idea as us to stop in the same cove, and after a little while a man in a small motorboat came by selling ice creams. What a great job. They were expensive but the experience was worth it.

After lunch we went to another island where the village of Simena is, which was full of shops and restaurants spilling down a steep hillside. It was a maze of dusty pathways bordered by weeds and haunted by women and children selling bracelets. Toby and I decided to forgo the 5 lira fortress and tomb walk in the heat, and instead followed Jen to a café she claimed made some of the best ice cream in Turkey. But we were a week too early; Jen was lifting all the metal lids on the ice cream counter staring into the empty pots, wailing ‘No ice cream? No ice cream?’ The boy just shrugged. So we bought a really expensive Diet Coke and just enjoyed the view. The rest of the group ended up there as well, all in search of the famous ice cream, so I’m sure they are making a fortune selling drinks to people who come for ice cream and can’t be bothered leaving. Simena was also the place I bought some evil eye bracelets for myself and Di; after our two broken limbs Jen had instructed the group to all go and buy ourselves evil eye amulets, which are supposed to protect you from bad luck. The whole group ended up wearing at least one, if not more. It’s a silly superstition but after 2 broken bones in nearly as many days, we weren’t taking any chances.

On the way back to Kas the weather changed and we had a choppy, grey ride. We made it back in one piece. Toby and I spent the night with another couple on the trip, having dinner at a place near the water and then big desserts in a cute café called the Hideaway, which was down a little pathway beside a house and really just a garden full of trees and tables and chairs. It was lovely, even though I was so full after dessert I could barely move.