TURKEY CLUB

March 1997

Introduction

There will always be a small place in my heart reserved for Turkey. No, that's not accurate. Turkey will be indelibly etched in my memory. No, that's not right either. To get an idea of the impression this country made on me you have to picture a big boulder the size of a house with the word "TURKEY" painted on it in large block letters crushing my skull.

Why Turkey

Turkey is about 300,000 square miles (780,000 square kilometers) in area. About 97 percent of this area lies in Asia and about 3 percent in Europe. The population of Turkey is more than 50 million. The Asian part of the country is mainly a long peninsula, bounded on the north by the Black Sea and on the south by the Mediterranean. In the southeast it borders Syria and Iraq, in the east Iran, and in the northeast Georgia and Armenia. The European part of Turkey borders Greece and Bulgaria. At one time Turkey was the heart of the large Ottoman Empire that contained much of the Middle East, North Africa, and southeastern Europe.

The largest city is Istanbul with nearly 3 million inhabitants. Formerly known as Constantinople, the capital of the Byzantine and Ottoman empires, Istanbul contains many historic buildings of the Christian and Muslim periods. It is situated on the shore of the Bosporus in Europe and is the land bridge between Europe and Asia. This made it the focal point for all trade routes between these two continents.

Stamboul, the heart of old Istanbul, covers a hilly peninsula. The Sea of Marmara is on the south, the Bosporus on the east, and a deep inlet called the Golden Horn on the north.

When the Christians were thrown out of Constantinople Christopher Columbus and a bunch of other guys were given contracts to find a water route to the Orient. In essence it is because the Muslims took over that I sit here now in America writing this travelogue.

Why go to Turkey you ask? Well let's look at their cultural contributions: The Turkish bath, combines exposure to warm air, then steam or hot-air immersion, massage, and finally a cold-water bath or shower; has been used for weight reduction, cleansing, and relaxation purposes; it survives today in the U.S., W. Europe, and many other countries and regions; you can be pampered with tea or wine while someone else does the hard stuff, you know soaping you up, rubbing you down and drying you off; The came the Turkish towels(terry cloth) which they had to invent after they started the Turkish baths.

Turkish coffee, which was the first massed produced coffee; the Turkey Trot which is similar to the Russian Trotskys and Montezuma's Revenge and usually follows drinking Turkish coffee; and the Turkish toilet for when you are doing the Turkey Trot.

Turkey was the home of the Amazons, a super race of women, and the Troglodytes, a primitive race of cave dwellers who invented the first sports bar(they must have been the men).

It took over five years of hard planning to get to Turkey. In 1990 Robin said she wanted to go to Turkey; we went to the Caribbean. In 1991 Robin said she wanted to go to Turkey; we went to Florida; 1992 again Rob wanted to go to Turkey; we went to Prague; 1995 Ecuador; 1996 Ireland, Atlanta for the Olympics, and finally Turkey.

So you see, you can go wherever you want with a little planning and a lot of perseverance.

Ok, so we buy a ton of books: Insight Guide, Lonely Planet Guide, Knopf Travel Guide, etc. We read personal accounts, memoirs and novels, "Mehmet, My Hawk", "A Fez of the Heart", "Turkish Reflections", etc. We read so much we feel like we have already been there. Every week there is another article about Turkey in a newspaper travel section or magazine. And of course we watch the ultimate travel film, "Midnight Express", where an American traveling in Turkey is imprisoned for drugs and abused in every way imaginable.

For Robin's birthday I bought her a 1893 Murray's Guide to Constantinople. I thought for a city as old as Istanbul how much could have changed since 1893? Hotels along the way advertise that they have elevators, electric light, telegraph and telephones!!! I hope at least this part has not changed.

According to the 1893 guide it takes 4.5 days to get to Constantinople from London on the Orient Express. Our flight from London to Istanbul will take 4.5 hours.

I referred to "Fielding's Guide to the Worlds Most Dangerous Places". I was reassured about our safety when traveling in Turkey because there was only 100 pages devoted to the PKK the worlds most terrible of terrorists. The PKK, the outlawed Kurdish Workers party of Southeastern Turkey, was responsible for more than 500 deaths in the late 1980s. Fortunately for us they were only bombing the resort areas along the Mediterranean coast and Turkey's larger cities.

Our itinerary consisted of sailing along the Mediterranean coast for 8 days, then a 3 day tour of Turkey's larger cities.

Who? When? How Much?

OK, so we are committed to the trip. Maybe we should invite friends. Why suffer through this alone, there's safety in numbers. Amazingly everyone we ask says yes which either means they don't really know where Turkey is or they don't care. So now we are a party of eight consisting of my wife and I, Fernando and Linda, Lorinn, Eric, Debbie and Dwight.

Lorinn, originally from Denver, started a new job in Switzerland with ISL the company promoting the Soccer World Cup in France. Eric, who grew up the suburbs of Philadelphia, worked with Robin for several years on her professional cycling team before he left to manage another team. He now works for a company that makes fish pharmaceuticals. Fernando is from Mexico but now lives in Milwaukee with Linda. He is a mechanic for one pro-cycling team and she is a soigneur for another. Debbie is Robin's oldest friend from Philadelphia. They met over 35 years ago and have not been able to end the relationship. Dwight is Debbie's friend and ex-room mate and is a bus driving/nurse/seaman. Ages in the group range from 26 to 46.

We decide to go in the middle of September after the Olympics, since a number of us are working on the cycling events in Atlanta, and because it is the shoulder of the travel season so the rates are cheaper. An incredible $465 per person for 8 days 7 nights aboard a 65' wooden sailing Gullet, meals, wine and beer included. Airfare is another $900 including the domestic flight from Istanbul to Antalya where we get on the boat. Another couple of hundred bucks for 3 days in Istanbul and the trip of a lifetime is pretty dam cheap. Add a couple of thousand more for the odd trinket, scarf, pottery, mandolin, massage, haircut or banana boat ride and you have got yourself one hell of deal. Remember to bring your Visa card.

We're Almost There

We were aware that Turkey just elected a new president, Necemetin Erbekan, an Islamic Fundamentalist and his first trip out of the country was to IRAQ to sign a deal with Saddam Hussein for much needed oil imports. Saddam Hussein you'll remember is the guy we humiliated in the Gulf War a couple of years ago. Everyone was concerned about us traveling there especially when we told them we were going on an open ended tour with the Future Hostages of Islam program.

Robbie and I boarded the British Airways plane in London for our flight to Istanbul. While we were sitting at the gate the steward got on the PA and announced there would be a slight delay and asked if anyone spoke English and Turkish to please identify themselves. A man sitting next to us raised his hand and the steward led him to the rear of the plane. Several minutes later he returned to his seat and the steward got back on the intercom and asked if anyone spoke English and Iranian. We suspected that this was a new in-flight game the attendants played, getting points for the most obscure combinations(anyone speak Inuit and Farsi?).

So, anyway, the same man raised his hand and again was led to the rear of the plane. Many minutes later the man returned to his seat and then airline security boarded the plane. The steward got on the intercom and announced that the reason for the delay was an Iranian passenger with a medical condition was requesting oxygen. He showed a note to the steward from a doctor that indicated he should not be flying. The steward was convinced that the Iranian did not fully comprehend the contents of the note since it was in English so there was a problem when they told him that he and his family members would have to leave the plane. But all of the other passengers realized all too well that this was just a clever ploy to get thrown off of the plane after he planted his bomb! Who cares whether or not his luggage was removed. We were going to be turned into hot sausage as we flew over Italy. Sensing our concern the cabin crew offered us several bottles of the cheap white wine "gratis" for our inconvenience. What the hell, fasten yer seat belts.

Later on during the flight, with a cheap wine hangover, I opened up the latest issue of NEWSWEEK magazine to find a picture of some Islamic Fundamentalists burning American flags outside of the U.S. Embassy in Istanbul. More wine, PLEASE!!!

OK Turkey, We're Here

We arrived Saturday night and the cab ride into town had a surreal aspect to it as we traveled a road along the shore of Bosporus passing cafes and discos decked out in carnival lights. Indeed there were some actual carnival rides. Speaking with people before the trip they mentioned to us that our previous trip to Ecuador was good preparation for Turkey since they both were third world countries. Ecuador looked like a deserted cabin in the woods compared to Turkey's Circus midway atmosphere. The rest of our group arrived before us on separate flights. We all were staying at the Hotel Meritt Antiq, in downtown Istanbul, complete with a Casino and parakeets in ornate birdcages in the lounge area.

The next morning we all assembled for a buffet breakfast in the lobby of the hotel before hopping into two taxis to the airport. A short flight to Antalya where Pacha tours picked us up in a mini-bus and drove us to the marina where the Sima(pronounced Shima), which is Turkish for North Star, was waiting for us with her crew. This part of the trip would be an 8 day cruise along the Turquoise Coast. Turquoise is French for Turkish and the water here is the unique blue-green color of the gemstone that we call Turquoise.

Hopping aboard we proceeded to give T-shirts to the two crew members, Ramazon, age 19, and Fathiya(we called him Fat Dave since we couldn't properly pronounce his name) age 23. We gave the 60 year old captain a pair of Killer Loop sunglasses. We figured we would start off on the right foot and ingratiate ourselves with gifts, in the hope of winning favors and forgiveness for future sins.

We had the captain pose for a picture with his new sunglasses. This was not easy since he didn't speak English, but once we wrestled him to the deck and put the glasses on him I think he got the idea.

About 2 minutes later we started to ask for some favors. The boat was scheduled to leave on Monday morning but hey - did we want to lay around on the boat in the stinking marina. Let's get this show on the road. Didn't we give you T-shirts?

Ok, so we had lunch, some wine and a quick swim off the dock. We had a departure time of 3 p.m. when, all of a sudden, what is this? A Pacha tours representative is telling us that we must take another passenger. The Sima had five 2-person cabins and we originally were to have nine people so we expected to have the whole boat to ourselves. But one person canceled suggesting to Pacha that they could foist off on us some cigarette smoking, single, middle aged German guy, probably named Fritz or Franz. We would not hear of it. We all saw Alfred Hitchcock's " Lifeboat" and we were having no parts of this Uberman.

Quickly circling the wagons(actually the trip vouchers), we were successful in convincing the local rep and indeed the head office, via a cell phone, that this was absurd. Did they want to piss-off eight free-spending fun-loving American tourist to satisfy one of these tightwad German colonists who would probably have us goose-stepping in our flip-flops off of the gang plank?

FORGEDDABOWDIT!

On the Boat

Sima heads out, we are happy campers, I mean boaters. The water is so blue. The sky is so blue. The mountain backdrop is so majestic. PHOTO OP. PHOTO OP. PHOTO OP. After an orgy of pre-mature photo taking we all laid back and smoked cigarettes.

It was really exhilarating to be on a boat with a crew that was there for us exclusively. We could tell them where we wanted to go or stay and they were at our beck and call. At first some of us were uncomfortable with the idea but this only lasted until about the second glass of wine (served by Ramazon of course).

Our days fell into a comfortable routine starting with breakfast around 8 with really great Turkish coffee which we later discovered was Nescafe Instant Classic. We would weigh anchor(it weighed the same everyday) and head to a new port or cove, enjoy a swim, sightseeing and shopping, lunch, a new port or cove for more swimming, then dinner and sleep on the deck.

We ate all of our meals under the canopy on the aft deck, served by the first mate and cook. During dinner we sat around, drank wine, listened to music and told travel stories about our most embarrassing moments. We also played games: Scategories(not a scatological reference), You Don't Say, I Am Going To Santa Domingo And I Am Taking With Me...

We laughed and drank til we had hangovers from both. The crew looked worried. They also looked tired because it seems that while to us the aft deck looked like a lounge area, after 10:00 p.m. it became their sleep area!!

The temperature was always perfect, day and evening, with no bugs, so after dinner we would go up to the foredeck and climb under the blankets and look at the galaxies and shooting stars which were profuse given the lack of light pollution. And we would talk 'til we fell asleep at which point some of us continued to talk in our sleep. Not such a bad thing in the privacy of your own bedroom, quite another when you are with some new acquaintances.

During our first night on the boat the weather got rough. The next day we got underway early around 5:30 a.m. When I came up on deck for breakfast everyone looked quite subdued. We each laid on the cushions watching the boat bob up and down, up and down, when all of a sudden, there goes Linda hurling over the side earning herself a new nickname, "Hurlswell". Immediately everyone was scrambling for their fast acting, anti drowsy formula, Dramamine tablets.

The Sights Along the Way

We saw all of the ruins along the way. Stopping at Olympos we saw a building from 702 B.C. We knew this because it had sign on it. And right next to it were two others buildings from 704 B.C. and 706 B.C. On the other side of the dirt lane were similar buildings from 703 and 705 B.C. It seemed like the further we went the further back in time we went until someone pointed out that these were the street addresses. We saw so many ruins I was prompted to ask, "Hey, don't you guys have any thing new around here?".

We walked to the peak of the Mons of Venus. Peeking through the bush down on the fishing village of Labia we saw a little man in a boat and our noses were filled with the odor of fresh fish. Moving on we saw the chalky white caves of Mylanta.

We stopped outside the village of Myra dating back from before 400 B.C. and viewed some very old tombs carved into the side of the cliffs behind an amphitheater.

Leaving the tombs we ran a gauntlet of vendors on a shady stone path selling juices, popsicles and artifacts, some old, some not so old. What caught our eye were these four inch statuettes of Priapus with a six inch penis and carved stone amulets depicting men and women in various sexually explicit positions.

I wasn't sure what the tenets of Islam were, but if all of this was any indication, count me in.

In Myra we visited the church of St. Nickolas, later known as Santa Claus. Walking around the town proper we saw a menu in a restaurant advertising "various moist watery meals" but we weren't that hungry.

Motoring to the sleepy village of Simena(I really got the impression we woke them up) we passed ruins that were partially submerged in the water along the cliffs on both sides of the inlet. The morning was clear and bright and peaceful. We walked up the hillside of Simena toward the ruins on the top. We stopped and looked in a shop and several of us purchased rugs which is probably the Turkish equivalent of buying a velvet sofa from a truck parked on the side of the road in Tennessee.

All the way up the hill we were stopped by young girls giving away bracelets made of thread and minuscule sea shells while they mentioned their name and implored us to buy scarves from only them on our way back down.

Just before we reached the top we heard squeals of laughter coming from a group of children. Walking over to look, we saw about a dozen of them, boys and girls, in dark blue uniforms with peter pan collars playing crack-the-whip in a fenced yard behind the single story school.

Before we could actually enter the ruin we had to purchase tickets. What was amazing was that I only had a $10 bill which the attendant accepted, even giving me the correct change in US dollars. Whenever something like this happens I try to picture myself making a purchase in America and paying with Portugese Escudos. Yeah, right!

Finally reaching the top we had a view of the natural harbor where the Sima was anchored and on the other side of the hill we could see a sedate looking farming valley. There were more tombs along the ridge that separated the valley from the harbor. We took some pictures then headed back down for the sales onslaught. The ladies and young girls were very charming and excellent salespersons, wrapping scarves around our heads and waists so we couldn't refuse to purchase. After we were sufficiently clad, they good humoredly posed for pictures with us. We then headed for some refreshment stopping in a little patio restaurant that advertised "beautiful view, cool place", on a hand written sign. We took off our shoes, leaned back on the bolsters under the thatched roof and drank fresh squeezed orange juice.

That afternoon we anchored in an incredibly beautiful cove. Before lunch we were approached by a speed boat offering Banana boat rides, water skiing and Jet-skiing. Debbie, Fernando, Linda, Eric and Dwight jumped on the Banana boat, which looked like an inflatable Oscar Meyer Wiener Mobile only it was yellow, and were whisked out of our sight yelling and bouncing wildly. When they came back they were a little more subdued, telling tales of capsizing and involuntary enemas. After lunch Ramazon escorted us via the Joker boat(our Avon lifeboat) for some sightseeing at an underwater cave.

That night, just as we lay down on the deck to sleep, our ears were assaulted. It seems there were competing discos on either side of the cove, one playing hard rock with Turkish overtones, the other playing oldies rock and roll. The overall effect was like the nighttime battle scene in the film "Apocalypse Now" with lights flashing and music blaring, the object being sleep depravation. It was very effective. The boat next to us started it generator so the vacationers could watch a program on TV!

The next morning we were awakened by the sound of roosters and sheep. But wanting to exact some revenge on last night's noisemakers, we cranked up the FUGEES on Eric's portable CD with the two inch battery powered speakers.

Kas

Approaching Kas (pronounced Cash) we saw a military post on the cliff above the harbor with soldiers with rifles, standing at attention and we were warned not to take pictures. Or what they'll shoot me?? Kas was the furthest point west on our trip and here the boat would be cleaned up and re-stocked so we spent the day traveling around with Ramazon and a driver in a mini-bus to see the sights. We stopped at the ruins of Letoon. We stopped at a little roadside stand for a lunch of shish-kebabs while being entertained by the cats, chickens and cows walking around.

There was a car wash that was operated surreptitiously by a hawkeyed young Turk sitting next to the electric switch that he would turn on whenever he heard a car approaching. The theory was that you could get a free car wash while having lunch. The height of technology, the car wash was a hose attached to square frame made of pipes drilled with holes suspended from the grapevine arbor that we were sitting under.

Just before leaving I decided to use the bathroom. It was an outhouse behind the restaurant with one of those brilliant Turkish plumbing marvels, the ubiquitous porcelain hole in the floor. But approaching the toilet I hit my head on the low door sill almost knocking myself out and knocking my hat into the toilet in the process.

Further on we stopped at what may well be the most famous, and expensive, ruins in Turkey but at that point we thought all of the ruins were looking the same so we decided instead to have another popsicle. And while it's true that all of the popsicles tasted the same, they were a lot cheaper.

While we sat there eating our popsicles a caravan of at least 12 Jeep Wranglers filled with French tourists roared into the parking lot whipping up a cloud of dust(some of it blew onto our popsicles but we already hated the French!). They were all decked out in cowboy hats, bathing suits and boots, looking miserable from overexposure but still giving off that typical French air of superiority.

Natural Beauty

Moving on to a natural gorge, which we were told was only just discovered a couple of years ago (by satellite I suppose), we paid the obligatory 80,000 lire and walked the catwalk back to where the gorge opened up to reveal the most incredible restaurant. The river running through the gorge was fed by lots of little streams and waterfalls originating from this open space. Each table at the restaurant was under a canopy and sat on its own platform that straddled one of the streams.

The patrons were sitting around drinking tea and eating shish-kebabs while they listened to the waterfall and watched the old women making flatbread.

Beyond the restaurant everyone was fording the quick running, icy stream for no apparent reason other than someone was renting flip-flops expressly for the purpose. We passed on the flip-flops, as we didn't think they would keep our feet warm, and went ahead in our bare feet only to discover that in addition to being icy, the stream bottom was covered with really hard rocks.

We headed down an ominous looking road in our ominibus. The driver said this was a shortcut, but I was nervous. I thought this is it, this is where we get captured by the PKK. When I am nervous I always sing. (Not really but hey this it's my story.) So I made everyone sing the song that always makes me feel better; "OOOHHHH, I like to go swimmin' with bowl-legged women and swim between their legs..swim between their legs".

The Grand Tetons

Our final destination for the day was a beach. At the entrance was an old man with an even older camel offering rides. I was extremely tempted since I suspected this would be the only camel we would see but it seemed too much of a nerdy, touristy thing to do so I passed. But the beach on the other hand was quite nice. There was little snack bar with tables and chairs. Some of us stayed for a cool drink while others went for a swim. The day was perfect and the swim was great floating in the water looking back at the beach with the mountains as a backdrop.

Strolling along the beach after my swim I quickly realized that this was a topless beach but a sense of decorum prevented me from yelling to my travel companions, "come get a load of these mountains".

Arriving back in KAS at about 5:30 we strolled into the little town to do some sightseeing and shopping before dinner. In the square was a life-size statue of Ataturk facing the harbor. Ataturk is credited with bringing turkey into the 20th century and he got an Ataboy for his efforts. In town we tried the ATM at the Yapi Credi Bank(Yapi Credi is Turkish for " money talks")and it worked. This was a big deal since we really had a hard time finding a machine in Ireland and Ecuador(I never did find one that would work with my cards), so this has become a third measure of progress for me, the other two being the state of the teeth and feet of the indigenous population(bad teeth, big feet, poor; good teeth, small feet, rich).

KAS was very European in its look and feel. Cobblestone streets, outdoor cafes and restaurants, souvenir and jewelry shops, antique shops and even an Italian restaurant serving Lasanya[sic]. We purchased some inexpensive blow-up rafts so we could lounge in the water. This way we would not be confined to lounging on the foredeck, lounging on the aftdeck or lounging in our cabins. (It seemed that every time we saw Fernando, he was asleep on the foredeck so we started calling it the For-nappo deck.) We also bought some pistachios and some horrible peanuts that were so salty as to be inedible. Seeing me open the bag of peanuts Fernando asked if I liked salty peanuts.

"Sure", I said popping a few into my mouth, "but not this salty", popping them back out.

I brought them home and even the squirrels wouldn't eat them, choosing starvation instead. I have placed them all around our basement to discourage the mice.

After dinner we went to an outdoor cafe where two young Turks were providing the entertainment. Ramazon said this was his favorite place because he really liked the music. We were seated and ordered drinks. There were two bartenders and as we were the only customers we were confused as to why it took so long to get our drink since most of us ordered wine or beer.

The drinks finally arrived with sparklers ablazin'. The sparklers we learned signified a truly lousy drink so we tried to steer clear of any drink that required a Bic lighter.

The place started to fill up and we were several drinks into the evening when the young Turks took the stage and began to play guitars and sing. Well, if you can imagine, we had to talk really loud over all this noise so that we could be heard. During the festivities it was brought to our attention that Ramazon was holding hands with Dwight and rubbing his back and neck. Thinking it was some Turkish gesture of friendship Dwight was reluctant to say anything for fear of offending him. So causally he jumped up and shouted at Ramazon, "What are you some kind of Freakin' Canadian??", as he stalked off to the Men's room. Ramazon, still having difficulty with English, mistook this for an invitation and panted after him.

This whole episode hardly interrupted Eric who was doing his best angry Scot impersonation which comes over him whenever he over drinks too much Scotch.

Back on stage the Turks were getting pissed and/or confused by at our constant boisterous requests for "Freebird" and one of our all time favorites, "Istanbul". They had just finished a Nirvana song(they only knew the first verse) and we had been clapping and hooting for 10 minutes non-stop to the irritation of everyone including people passing by on the street when we decided, or did they decide, I am not clear on this, that it was time for us to leave.

I Like To Boogie

Next stop a little disco right on the town square. We ordered some refreshment and then we stormed right onto the tiny dance floor, capacity 20 max. and proceeded to elbow everyone else off. We writhed to a drunken, hedonistic rhythm that no one else could hear. We were sweaty, loud and obnoxious. Everyone probably thought we were German.

And then it happened. They played the Macarena. And we took leave of our senses. We danced like we were possessed. It was a spiritual thing. Dancing that dance that night we thought that life was good and that we would never die.

Macarena. Macarena. Heeeeyyyy, Macarena!!!!

Well, the next morning we died. I guess it's because they stopped playing the Macarena. I don't know. I guess we will never know.

Later that day we anchored in a nearby cove for breakfast and a swim. The girls used the floats we purchased the day before and Eric found some sea Urchin shells, one of which contained a hideous worm covered with barbs that kills Sea Urchins that live inside.

We Move On To Finike

Heading for the village of Finike we developed engine trouble and were caught and passed by a whole fleet of Gullets. At Finike we had lunch and then read about the village in the guidebook. It said that Finike, as the citrus capitol of Turkey, was not very interesting and did not merit a stop. But here we were for a whole day! So we decided to take a walk downtown. Having left several minutes before us, Linda and Fernando were already on their way back reinforcing the guidebook assessment.

"Don't bother", they said, "there aren't even any ruins".

"But hey, look, they sell popsicles. Let's get one", I said.

We walked over to the little side street for the ice cream then decided to explore it a little more. It seemed that every other shop was a barber shop and they all advertised "haircut and good massage".

With nothing else to do and needing a haircut and a good massage Fernando went in. Assuming the massage was a scalp massage and having a professional interest, since she is a masseuse, Linda decided to get a massage. The rest of us sat in the tiny sweltering shop the size of a bathroom while the barber and his four sons went to work on his customers. While we watched we drank apple tea delivered in glasses on a silver tray from a shop down the street, one of the few that was not a barber shop.

Fernando got a shampoo and haircut. Then a shave followed by some weird procedure where barber lit a swab soaked with alcohol and smacked Fernando's face with it, then he got a hot towel from a little urn on an alcohol stove and draped it on Fernando's face, and finished him up with some talcum powder. He then got a full-body massage and a glass of tea.

Meanwhile the Dad had Linda in another chair and since he appeared to not speak English she gave us a blow-by-blow account of his feeling her up, I mean giving her a massage. All of this for approximately $15.

Walking back to the boat we saw posters announcing that Houlya Avsar, Ramazon's favorite recording artist, was to be in Finike the next day. Not only was she Ramazon's favorite but she was Numero Uno in Turkey and we had been listening to her newest release all week. Why she was coming to this little town was beyond me. I guess she needed a haircut.

Back at the marina Dwight bought a rug and got the best price so far, $100 down from the $250 Eric had paid in Istanbul on the first day.

I decided to get a massage which was very strange since I was completely naked and the person giving the massage was a man (I swore no man would ever get that intimate)and he used, of all things, Vaseline intensive care lotion. And while the price was right, it was a totally unsatisfying massage in part because of the atmosphere (there was a picture of his son hanging on the wall in full battle dress including a machine gun).

Arriving back at the boat Debbie asked how the massage was. I lied and told her it was great thinking how funny it was going to be when she had to disrobe in front of this surly Turkish masseur. She came back saying her's was wonderful and it was administered by a woman. But no one believed her.

Beyond Finike

The next morning we motored to Sacak, a very small cove with steep tree covered cliff walls rising for hundreds of feet on both sides that created an echo. The cove ended abruptly in a narrow point with a small beach. Being the only boat in the cove made a spectacular setting for our breakfast. We then had a swim to the beach to look at the ruins and commune with the goats. Lunch was at Porto Genovese, then on to Olympos which dated from 700 B.C.

Olympos was the most interesting of the ruins we saw because you felt like you were exploring a whole village. There were lots of burial tombs and aqueducts, with little shaded footpaths going though the thick woods and brush. Some what incongruous was the man walking down the beach with a large wooden platter on his head stacked with what looked like hamburgers. Also incongruous were the people snorkeling in the shallow puddle on the beach.

At tea time we stopped in Phaselis then moved on to Kemer for dinner. The stern of the boat was tied to some large rock on the shore so that we a good view of the Club Med across the bay. Everyone went ashore except Robin and I. Since Lorinn works at Club Med as a G.O., Ramazon took her ashore to see if we could get in later that night to see the show and have a drink.

The others went to the beer garden and were stunned to discover that Efes was not the only beer available. The beer garden also sold Venus. Granted, it too, like Efes, was Turkish and it too, like Efes, was really lousy but after drinking Efes for a week it didn't seem so bad. They also brought back what chocolate they had left for our dessert having sickened themselves already from copious amounts of chocolate washed down with the Venus beer.

That night everyone but me dressed up and went to Club Med to see the show. It consisted of the staff lip-sync-ing to Aladdin in French in the ampitheater finishing up with a "We are the World" type song with everyone hugging before going to the disco. In the disco Fernando was on the stage, much to the consternation of the Emcee, doing a bump and grind reminiscent of the previous night in Kas.

Personal Hygiene

The next morning was rough and the Gak-o-meter was pegged. Linda came to the cabin looking for Dramamine. Up on deck everything was caked in salt from the sea spray. We had not had hot water for three days (no big deal really) because of a broken heat exchanger and all of our toilets were backed up with toilet paper. Surely, we thought, those little signs saying "Do not put waste paper in the toilet" didn't include toilet paper.

But, incredibly it did. It seems that each toilet was equipped with a mini-bidet set-up that you used to wash off, using the toilet paper only to dry and then discard in the trash can. God knows what the crew thought when after five days we had no trash.

Up Close and Personal

Eric brought two magazines on the trip; Cigar and Buddhist Review. In the review there was a personal anecdote about a woman going to a retreat where talking was prohibited. When she gets to her room she is unpacking her fruit and says to her roommate, "Hi, my name is Joan, would you like banana?". For some reason this just struck me as funny and I felt compelled to repeat it many times throughout the trip. Another bizarre quote in the magazine stated that, "We are all one nose hole society". Now if it had been in the Cigar magazine maybe it would have explained where to put your cigar.

Lorinn had us all laughing at the story of her Dad writing a musical about a local Colorado mythical figure named Soapy Smith, all the while doing an imitation of him playing the piano and singing.

Linda told us about her parents generous offer they made her and her twin sister. They could spend a year traveling to anywhere they chose after completing a year of college. Linda's dad was a pilot so she and her sister got the airline tickets at a greatly reduced rate. In addition to spending extended periods in Australia and New Zealand and other various places, she went to a native village with an archeologist and sculptor to do molds of the native's heads. It all sounded like a trip you read about in a travel adventure book and made our trip seem rather pedestrian.

Ramazon and the Amazon

During the course of the trip it became apparent that Ramazon was attracted to Lorinn. This had its amusing aspect since Lorinn is 6'3" and Ramazon is 5'2". One day they were sharing a float and kick paddling around the boat but because Ramazon was half the size of Lorinn his feet kicking under the water gave the appearance of her expelling gas like those little scuba diver toys that operate with baking powder. But even with the disparity in their height his affection continued to grow (literally and figuratively) until at the end of the trip in a quiet moment alone Ramazon sang a love song in Turkish after which, to Lorinn's dismay, he asked her to reciprocate. Hoping, that since he did not speak English that well, he wouldn't know the difference, she sang the only song that came to mind from when she was a camp counselor. It had something to do with a worm.

Language Problems

We were standing on the bow of the boat one day as it motored lazily along cliffs when we saw a seal swimming toward us. All of a sudden Ramazon started yelling "Fuck". It turns out that he was saying Fark which is the Turkish word for seal but it prompted Dwight to ask him what was the Turkish word for Fuck. After Ramazon told us, Dwight said, "that is Fuck in Turkish".

I replied, "everything he says is fuckin' Turkish".

Antalya

Next to the last day we all went to the Old town section of Antalya. Little streets with great examples of typical Turkish architecture, split beam Ottoman structures (reminded me of Tudor style) with overhangs on the second floor extending over the cobblestone alleys. The streets were lined with tiny little shops selling everything; prayer beads, cassettes, and CDs, rugs, gold, pottery, coffee, jeans.

Everybody immediately started wandering into the various shops and within 5 minutes we were all disconnected. It took an hour to reassemble everyone.

Fernando established a rule: if you want to stop and look and perhaps buy, you had to announce yourself by yelling an old Mexican phrase, "Shoppi, Shoppi" so everyone else would stop and wait. It worked out marvelously well and I recommend it to all travel groups.

We were told it was essential to bargain for everything - that the vendor will not respect you if you don't haggle. The exchange rate was $10 for 1 million Turkish Lira, so, many times you ended up haggling over $1 or less. It became too much work to argue for 10 minutes to save $.80. By the end of the trip we realized that in Turkey it seemed that everything was already so cheap that there really was no difference between $3 or $5 or $8, so we just paid.

We stopped at a fresh juice vendor stand along the wall of the old city with a magnificent view of the harbor below. The vendor was making juice of oranges and pomegranates with a hand press while some older women in the shadow of a large entrance way were making flat bread on a mill stone. We then noticed that the juice maker was wearing a Beeper and we wondered what would constitute an emergency for an Orange Juice vendor, "Achmed, come quick, your navel oranges are in...".

A Universal Cure

We were just about finished with Antalya when Debbie announced that she absolutely, positively could not leave until she visited the McDonalds. It was a medical imperative. And she knew, because she saw it, that the McDonalds was just up the street.

"No problem, I can walk there myself", she said.

We will not hear of it. All seven of us must accompany you to ensure that your emergency is quickly dealt with. About a mile later, passing Hadrian's Gate, from the 4th century B.C., with not so much as a "How Do You Do", we arrive at the Medical Center... I mean McDonalds.

Once there we all partake of the cure but experience some problems making the minimum wage Turks behind the counter understand, "extra ice in the cokes".

The Last Supper

Back on the boat for our last night Cappy had gone home to be with his family. Ramazon and FatDave ate with us. For dessert they prepared a watermelon to look like an American flag and put sparklers in it but the flag was backwards. We also had sampled three different kinds of candy I picked up in Antalya, each of them worse than the one before. We listened to the Road to Shambala by Three Dog Night while we banged on the tambourine and bongo drum that were on the boat. Dwight had waited all week to hear the song but I think we ruined it for him.

After dinner several of the group decided to go skinny dipping off the bow of the boat. The plan was to swim to the end of the dock where towels were strategically placed beforehand. The other less adventurous folks busied themselves by finding the switch that controlled the decks lights. Once the swimmers disrobed, on went the lights and its showtime folks! Seeing Ramazon running to get the towels Fernando tried to swim fast enough to beat him, succeeding only in making himself throw-up. This was all to the amusement of several women on an adjacent boat.

More Language Problems

The next day at lunch the captain brought his family aboard to join us for lunch. The group consisted of three old women in nun-like garb (his wife, sister and sister-in-law), his son and grandson. We were waiting on lunch and making small talk when the first mate came on the boat and did something really stupid. We all told him to repeat after us "Ahm We Tar Ded" (I'm retarded). We only got to the "Ahm" part and Ramazon was not cooperating. We repeated the first syllable several times, louder each time. As we did Ramazon looked more and more aghast. Finally he gave us the universal signal that he was either going to slit our throats or that we should stop talking. Since we didn't want our throats slit we stopped talking.

Later Ramazon explained that to his horror, and apparently everyone else, we were shouting the Turkish word for female genitalia. God or Allah or knows what those poor women were thinking. "The infidels are going to rape us". They immediately removed themselves to the foredeck. The only way I could convince the captain that we were OK was to give him his tip, an envelope overstuffed with Turkish Lire. After seeing this he offered me his wife.

Heading to the airport for our 4 p.m. flight back to Istanbul we got stuck in a secured waiting area from which there was no escape. It didn't seem to be bad because we all were able to get a seat but the problem in Turkey is there is no "No Smoking" area. And the last time I saw smoke like this was the CNN coverage of the oil well fires during the Gulf War. Then, probably as a consequence of a lack of oxygen, we all mistakenly got up to board our flight which in fact was not leaving for another two hours, late of course. But in that brief moment the Turks were reliving the glory days of the Ottoman Empire by recapturing the seats once occupied by us, relegating us to hippie status by forcing us to sit in the floor. The only good thing about it was there was less cigarette smoke down there.

Istanbul

Back at the Merritt Antiq hotel we checked-in and showered. This was all the more pleasurable since we had had no hot water on the boat. We had a group dinner in the lobby restaurant. Debbie, Eric and Dwight would be leaving early the next morning so this was farewell for them.

Next morning we walked up past the University of Istanbul to the Grand Bazaar (Covered Bazaar). The Grand Bazaar consists of 4000 shops, some no bigger than a phone booth, selling gold, jewelry, carpets, ceramic, copper and brass. Linda and Fernando went on an uncontrolled spending spree even buying a Mandolin. Lorinn had broken her luggage on the way to Turkey so she took advantage of the great prices to buy what looked like a carpetbag (it later broke at the airport). I purchased 10 inexpensive silhouettes of Ataturk that I had planned to give as souvenirs to all on the trip thus making them official members of the "Turkey Club".

We spent all morning at the Bazaar wrapping it up with a nice lunch before checking out of the Merritt Antiq and heading to the Yesl Ev (Green Door), a much smaller and older hotel strategically located between the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sofia and Topkapi Palace.

On the way we drove on the road that paralleled the harbor and saw an ominous looking black submarine with no visible markings plying through the water. I wondered what country it might be from given that Turkey shares the Bosporus with Russia.

Behind the Green Door

The Green Door was on Bushy Beard Street and local legend has it in the old days if a Turk liked a woman he would take her for a ride on the Bushy Beard (OK, so I made this part up, but it sounds plausible).

The hotel had about 30 rooms and we were given to believe that it was like a four star European type Hotel but it was looking a little shabby even though there was a lovely patio garden in the back were you could take tea or have drinks. The restaurant itself didn't look promising.

Topkapi Palace

That afternoon we hired a guide for $30 an hour to show us around the Topkapi Palace. He explained the extent of the Ottoman Empire, the largest in the known world, and the tenets of Islam. He pointed out a coat worn by Mohammed, which you could not see because it was in a closet and he mentioned that Saudi Arabia offered $10 million for 4 swords owned by followers of Mohammed. There was even a little glass amulet containing whiskers from Mohammed's beard.

We also saw some of the largest jewels in the world that I still cannot believe were real (6th largest diamond, 800+ carats). And while the guide was very knowledgeable, we all just about passed out every time he raised an arm to point out something out to us. The odor emanating from his armpits could have only been created by storing whole cloves of garlic and onions under his arms for extended periods of time.

We were back at the hotel at dinner time but decided to look around for another place to eat when a sudden downpour made the decision for us. The meal and the wine weren't that good but the conversation was, and we didn't have far to go to retire. Next morning I finally woke in time to record the call to prayer. This not only woke me but all of the dogs in Istanbul making it impossible to go back to sleep.

Bushy Beard Street, which was closed to vehicular traffic, had a nice courtyard mall next to the hotel with local craft shops. We visited it in the early morning just as a young man was releasing the pigeons from a pigeon coop. He was grabbing them two at a time and throwing them up into the air, forcing them to take flight. The trees in the courtyard were filled with them all fluttering and cooing. The unattended shops were very tiny with low doorways, stucco walls and tile floors.

Aya Sofia and the Blue Mosque

That morning we viewed the Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque. Their size was compelling but the Hagia Sophia, which is the largest church in the world (it was a church before the Muslims captured Constantinople), was undergoing renovation which detracted from its overall impact. There was one curiosity there and I am guessing it purpose was good luck. You stuck your thumb in a hole in the marble pillar at shoulder height and if you were able to rotate your hand in a wiping motion 360 degrees you got your wish.

Walking from Hagia Sofia through the plaza on our way to the Blue Mosque we saw the Cherry Juice Vendors. These are guys in some traditional Turkish garb (picture Ali Baba with a Fez and pointed little sandals) with large Silver juice dispensers strapped to their back. They dispense the juice through little hoses attached to the Silver cans by leaning far forward and letting gravity do all of the work, pouring the juice with a flourish for a very exorbitant price. And it isn't even cold juice.

The Blue Mosque is the main Mosque in Istanbul. It is unique because it has six minarets instead of the usual four. Our guide from the previous day had told us it was built this way by mistake. Before leaving for Mecca, Sultan Ahmet told his architect to build a Mosque with gold minarets but the word for gold sounds just like the word for six. In those days when they said heads will roll I am guessing they meant literally so I am amazed with that kind of motivation someone could make a mistake that large.

Before entering the Mosque you take you're shoes off and put them on a shelf, then you bend under a leather flap (bowing your head to Allah) to enter the mosque which is one enormously large room, with walls covered with blue green tiles in intricate patterns, with hundreds of stained glass windows.

Spices Are the Variety of Life

In the afternoon we went to the spice market at the Egyptian Bazaar. It is still called the spice market even though they sell no where near the 1500 different kinds that used to be available, but it still is pretty neat.

Easily the most available item in the market is caviar. Iranian and Russian caviar was at least 50% what it would cost back home but we were a little leery of purchasing it and bringing it home unrefrigerated even though it was vacuum packed.

It also turns out that the caviar is being quickly depleted by both Iran and Russia in an effort to get much needed hard currency, so I was kind of glad we didn't buy any. Besides, I prefer to pay full price.

But we did buy Saffron, a spice that apparently is used to turn rice yellow. Enough to last a lifetime all for $10. According to Robin this would have cost hundreds of dollars back home so I guess it was a deal. I don't know how I ever managed before without Saffron. I'm just wild about Saffron (Donovan, late 60's). We purchased a few other products basically because the salespeople swore that each of them was an aphrodisiac. Really, I just rub this Horseradish root on my genitals for 15 minutes and you say I will get aroused?

We lunched at Pandeli, a very old restaurant on the second floor, above the Spice Market. The uninteresting stuffed grape leaves were made wonderful by the Midday call to prayer as we looked out the window across the Golden Horn and Bosporus. Don't tell me ambience doesn't count.

More Hygiene

The girls then went to a Hammam(a Turkish bath.) In was in a seedy section of the city but they were not to be deterred. Once inside they were coddled and pampered by old women who shampooed and massaged them and gave them tea while they lounged and savored the afterglow of the physical experience. They even reported having a close call with a Lesbian which added to the exotic aspect of the experience (she was probably on the payroll expressly for the purpose).

The Guys Raise Hell

Meanwhile Fernando and I walked through a pedestrian under pass to the Galata Bridge. This underpass was a riot of street vendor booths all selling electronic devices and Chicago Bulls and Michael Jordan paraphernalia. We continued across the bridge mistakenly thinking that it connected Europe to Asia. The bridge was crowded with fishermen and the Bosporus below was teeming with ferries and other commercial traffic. Hopping into a cab we then attempted to see some Belly Dancers but they did not open til 10:00 that night and there was a $40 cover charge to boot. So we went to the modern shopping mall on the road to the airport. It was very strange in that this could have been a mall any where in America with MacDonald's, Burger King, KFC and many other shops with American sounding names. Prices for items were even given in dollars. We went up to the second floor amusement area with a bowling alley and discos and a bar. We were frisked for weapons which was quite a new mall experience for us.

The Last Supper, Really!

The last night in Istanbul we decided to splurge so we went to the Kampenski Palace hotel. A magnificent hotel named because it originally was a palace, with a wide gas-lit marble promenade along the banks of the Bosporous. It was a gorgeous evening with a soft breeze blowing. The Hotel Restaurant, called Bellini's, was extravagant with 20 foot ceilings. Amazingly as we entered the dining room there was a string trio playing Mexican music that Fernando instantly recognized. We sat down and had a really great meal of Italian food starting with, naturally, Bellini's (Champagne and peach nectar).

After dinner we walked along the promenade then the five of us piled into a small cab and left the Hotel. We immediately got stuck in a massive, frantic traffic jam in front of the soccer stadium. The game had just finished and Turkey had defeated the heavily favored Italian defending champs on the way to the finals for the European championships. It was sheer bedlam all over the city but it had appeared that it had all been staged as a grand finale to our trip.

The next day Robbie and I packed and headed for an overnight stay at the Ritz in London. Lorinn headed back to Switzerland while Linda and Fernando stayed another day before heading back to Milwaukee.

The author, when not writing travel stories, spends his time dabbling in Quality Assurance for a major Pharmaceuticals firm. He lives on his estate, Glennsylvania, in New Jersey, with his wife Robin, dog Elvis and Quirk the cat.