Mediterranean Trip - Part 2 (Nov. 28)

Saturday, Nov. 28

To see more pictures of the second full day of our Mediterranean trip, see "Part 2) at: http://www.anatolianphotos.shutterfly.com/

Fethiye

After a somewhat sparse Turkish breakfast (no yogurt!), we headed down the dirt path from our hotel to our bus, which, due to road construction, was unable to approach the hotel. Then back we go to Fethiye to visit two historical ruins.

In old times, Fethiye was called Telmessos. More recently, until the 1930s, it was called Megri. At that time it was renamed Fethiye to honor Tay Yareci Fethi Bey, the first Turkish fighter pilot to be killed in World War 1. "Tay Yareci" is the old Ottoman Turkish phrase for "pilot." The name changes are reminders of the long history of this town which sits at the mouth of one of the larger valleys in this mountainous region. Sheltered by an inner bay, with another outer bay beyond the most visible island, it was the perfect place for settlement long ago.

Part of its history, of course, includes its city-state status among the Lycians. As with this entire region, there are two types of Lycian tombs and/or burial edifices. At last count, there are more than 1,000 tombs cut into the rock faces of the many mountains. Throughout our four day trip, we have seen dozens of these rock tombs looming high over the landscape. Later in Lycian history, sarcophagi were constructed to bury the dead – or at least those who could afford the impressive structures.

The first stop in Fethiye was to view one of the large sarcophagi around which the later town was built. Here, Onur (our guide) explained Lycian funerary beliefs, which explains, to some extent, the design of the sarcophagi. After death, one is carried by boat, piloted by Charon, across the River (Styx? – was it called Styx in Lycian times?) to the Elysian fields. Lycian sarcophagi were topped with a heavy stone cap designed to look like an inverted keel of a boat to assist in the passage across the river. Charon, of course, had to be paid. Coins were inserted into the deceased person’s mouth and also covered the eyes; these coins were to be used to pay Charon. In later excavations, coins were found in the skulls of the few skeletons found in the tombs. The existence of the coins and other valuable artifacts goes a long way in explaining why the vast majority of these tombs were ransacked centuries ago.

Around the corner from the Lycian sarcophagus, we visited yet another Greco-Roman theater, this one discovered as recently as the mid 1990s, around the time of the discovery of the Roman theater in Ankara. Still under excavation, it sits amidst neighborhood houses positioned above the theater. The supporting wall on one side of the theater is listing badly as a result of the recent removal of soil during the excavations. The archaeologists had better buttress this wall quickly before it collapses. Interestingly, Fethiye was flattened by a powerful earthquake as recently as 1958. That soil around the Roman theater likely preserved it from collapse. It takes modern archaeology, I guess, to hasten the demise of some of these monuments (or preserve them if properly excavated).

Kayakoy

Next stop is the ghost town of Kayakoy. This former Ottoman Greek village, consisting of approximately 2,000 stone homes, was abandoned in the 1920s after World War 1 and the Turkish War of Independence. The League of Nations coordinated a population exchange between Orthodox Christian Greeks living in Turkey and Muslim Turks living in Greece—returning the former to Greece and the latter to Turkey. Since there were more Greeks living in Turkey than there were Turks living in Greece, many abandoned homes in Turkey remained unoccupied, including the entire somewhat remote village of Kayakoy, where Greek inhabitants had lived for more than 1,000 years in the mountain town formerly named Levissi.

The abandoned houses here hug the mountains in an eerie display of stone. Wood and tiles having been removed by surrounding residents, all that is left are the walls, foundations, and stone chimneys of the entire empty town. Of particular note are the two Greek orthodox churches, the Upper (called Taxiarkis, on top of a hill) and Lower (called Kataponagia, on the bottom), with their beautiful black and white (and a few red) stone mosaics in the courtyards and the church floors. The lower church was more elaborately decorated, including tromp l’oeil windows and a small reproduction painting of DaVinci’s "last supper." One stone mosaic indicated that this church was built as recently as 1888. Another distinctive feature was the ossuary, where older bones were deposited to make room for more recent burials in the crowded cemetery.

We stopped for tea (cay) in a small restaurant near the waiting bus. Our guide said we could order some gozleme (flat bread stuffed with cheese and spinach, or meat if preferred). We did so. But, since they were made one at a time it was nearly an hour before we got our delicious gozleme. With a bus load of people (who’d gotten theirs before ours) waiting for us, we packed them up to eat later on the beach at Oludeniz.

Oludeniz

The word "Oludeniz" translates to "Dead Sea." But, unlike the more well-known sea with that name, there is nothing "dead" about it. The name simply derives from the fact that there is a beautiful lagoon cut off from the rest of the Mediterranean—surrounded by soaring mountains, including the well known Baba Dag (Father Mountain). This national park recently won an award for environmental protection.

Oludeniz is famous for paragliding conditions, and, sure enough, we watched paragliders the entire time we ate our gozleme and wandered around this beautiful beach park. Being off season, the park was nearly deserted except for a few families and our tour group. Despite the lack of people, we were reminded that the chaise we were sitting on while eating lunch came with a price; if we wanted to continue using it, we need to pay 8 TL (about $5). Oops.

Once again, I left my bathing suit in the bus, as it was looking like nobody else was going to swim. I was wrong: two people from our tour changed into their suits and went into the clear, shallow water. I considered going back to the bus, but it was a fairly long walk, so I didn’t. Sigh. But then, when the two emerged shivering from the water (and the sun was getting low by now), I felt relieved that I didn’t take the plunge.

Instead of swimming, we continued to watch the paragliders, including what looked like a free fall of one. After floating aloft for quite a while (they can stay floating in the air for up to 45 minutes here), this paraglider suddenly dipped and started falling rapidly, rocking from side to side as s/he fell. We were alarmed and assumed the ambulance would be arriving soon. But, as it turned out, this was the landing technique for paragliders. This pilot was clearly a pro—landing gently right on the beach. Whew!

Kalkan

Back to our home base, Kalkan, this time the bus took us all the way down the steep hillside to the bay, where we had a chance to walk around for a half hour or so. Now I see why this is such an attractive tourist town. The part of town we were already a bit familiar with--the upper part, was full of hotels (like ours) and rows and rows of newly constructed summer homes. Except for the huge mountain overlooking everyone and everything, this area is pretty much lacking in charm. The lower town near the water, however, had been a Greek fishing village (before the Exchange), and had a tremendous amount of character—beautiful whitewashed buildings, with Ottoman style balconies overlooking the water, hanging bougainvillea everywhere, and narrow cobbled streets lined with shops and cafes. Very nice indeed; wish we had more time to wander around. But, the the price we would have to pay to stay here longer, instead of going back to the hotel on the bus (then the mini-buses to the hotel, because of the construction), was to climb that long steep hill to our hotel, trying to navigate through all that construction in the dark. We returned by bus to the hotel, to a delicious meal of the type of fish we saw for sale by a lone fisherman on the docks of Fethiye this morning.

After dinner, we joined several of our fellow travelers as well as the dining staff in the hotels’s common area to watch a Turkish soccer match on a large-screen HD TV. The leading Turkish team, Fenerbache (Goliath), was playing against a mediocre team whose name I forget (David). Fenerbache was being punished for rowdy behavior of some of its fans at a previous game, so there were no fans at all in the tens of thousands of seats surrounding the Isbanbul stadium where they played. Very strange to see (and not hear). The lack of fans may have had no bearing on the outcome of the game—BUT David did beat Goliath, 3-1, much to everyone’s surprise. This was fun to be a part of—even if only in front of the TV screen.