The trout farm

Nestled in the hillside above the turquoise coast lies the small village of Islamlar which is well known for its trout farms. The Bodamya Tepe Restaurant was the host for our last supper .

The farm was set in a picturesque spot that was surrounded by olive groves and  looked down to the valley and sea beyond and was complete with a duck pond.

My parents and I shared a plate of meatballs to start at which point a gaggle? (A group of anyway) of ducks waddled past. If this was a sign of what was to come we were in for a culinary treat.

For the main course we all ended going for the same dish - freshwater trout cooked with tomato, onions and mushrooms and boy was it good. The fish dish came served with rice although as well as the bread basket we were given at the start of the meal and an order of chips we were so overcome with delicious food that I was glad that I was not wearing restricting trousers

Demre, Myra and St. Nicholas

On Friday the day started with a quiet road trip to the hippie town of Kas where whilst sitting on the sea front I was given a glass of freshly squeezed pomegranate juice which tasted quite honestly of vinegar. I was not impressed but apparently pomegranates are 'super foods' so I had to grin and bear it and drink the foul tasting liquid.

 Turkey's Independence Day is on the 29th October so we could hear music as we walked through the city. At the bandstand a few musicians were playing in preparation for the festival and as we stood and watched I ate an ice cream. Peculiar is word I would use to describe this gelato type ice as it was chewy. I'd never had chewy ice cream before. I believe that the ice cream mixture is mixed with gelatine to give it a gun like texture. 

Apart from the Turkish Baths the thing I had been looking forward to most was visiting the church of St. Nicholas in Myra (known today as Demre.)

St Nicholas, also known as Noel Baba, Der Nikolaus or Santa Claus, was (as I have mentioned in an earlier post) born in Patara but spent a good portion of and indeed became bishop of Myra in the fifth century BC

The patron saint of children and sailors (to name just a few) is historically known to have gone round people's houses on the 25th of December and leave a gift of some sort.

Indeed in the tale of the three sisters recounts how a poor farmer with three daughters would not able to pay a dowry for any of his girls to be married.

The sisters' came up with a plan that one of them would sell herself as a slave so that she could raise enough money for one of her sisters to get married. The problem was which sister was going to be enslaved?

St. Nicholas overheard the quarrel and was so outraged by the idea that he knew that he had to something about it. That year on Christ's birthday St. Nicholas threw a sack of gold coins -enough for a dowry- through the open window of the farmer's house and thus the first daughter was wed.

The next year on the same day a second bag of gold coins came into the house through the window and the second daughter was able to marry.

On the third December 25th there was a gale and St. Nicholas found that the window was shut. Feeling determined that he had to deliver the sack of gold St. Nicholas climbed down the chimney and placed the bag in one of the stockings that had been hung on the mantle piece to dry. Thus the third daughter was no able to get married and everyone lived happily ever after.

We learnt about this tale plus much more besides when the visited the church of St Nicholas. The tomb of Santa can also be found here yet the majority of his bones were stolen in 1087 and taken to Italy. The few bones that do remain in the country have been moved to the museum in Antalya. The Turkish are petioning for the bones to be returned to their home country but it would seem that the Vatican is not willing to give up that easily.

Santa's grave

The Myran ruins of the Roman  amphitheatre and Lycian rock-cut tombs are a marvel to behold so that's where we went next. Myra was one of the six great cities of the Lycian league and historians have suggested that Myra has been lived in from the 5th century BC. Earning great wealth in the 2nd century AD thanks in no great part to the church of St. Nicholas, the city, like Xanthos lost its importance in the 7th century as a result of the Muslim raids along the coast as well as a combination of floods and earthquakes.

The infamous Lycian rock-cut tombs

The recently restored Byzantian church in immaculate condition

Demre is famous for its oranges (which actually look distinctly green) so naturally we had to stop for a glass or two of the freshly squeezed liquid gold as well as a bite to eat.

On the return journey we came across a broken down bus and were flagged down. Two of the travellers had bought tickets for a bus that was leaving Kas at half past six and since we were going that way anyway would we mind taking them with us.

So there you are, I'm sitting strapped in the back with a Turkish couple who don't speak any English. Through consulting the guide book we were able to establish where the bus station was. Luckily we got the couple to Kas in time for the half six and were paid in kind with bread and cheese.

For dinner I had a mixed mezze to start with mixed vegetables and puffed up flatbread.

This was then followed by the Ottoman Casserole which consisted of both chicken and lamb as well as mushrooms,peppers and various vegetables.

Chestnut Halva for pudding: cooked in the oven with orange, Apple and raisins and had a similar texture to rice pudding.

I washed all of this down with an Ayran which I was told was buttermilk and it tasted absolutely disgusting, like sour milk.

The Hamam

For me most of the day was spent reading whilst the parentals went up a mountain as well as, it later transpired, finding me a 'nice Turkish husband.

When you are in Turkey one of the things I suggest would be on your itinerary is going to the the Turkish baths or hamam. We have spent a good portion of our stay here working out the best one to go to and finally decided to go to the spa at our own resort the Patara Prince.

 The sauna was the first port of call where we were to lie until deemed suitably sweaty. This was actually supposed to open up all of our pores but I was nevertheless reminded of meat roasting in an oven when the guy kept coming in to check if we were 'cooked enough'.

Thankfully just as I was feeling like I was going to get heat stroke I was led from the sauna into the Turkish bath area and instructed to lie on a heated marble slab. Meanwhile the hamam guy turned on all the taps around the room..was he trying to flood the room? And started to pour water over my body. Next I was scrubbed from head to toe with what felt like a Brillo pad. - this part of the procedure is called 'peeling' as it exfoliates the body and gets rid of and dead skin.

After being doused in more water I noticed that the guy was waving a sack in the air and, when he squeezed it lots of bubbles came out. This 'foam massage' was an entirely new and unique experience that did not fail to remind me of having a bubble bath in which there are too many bubbles. I would definitely recommend this treatment and was left feeling squeaky clean by the end.

Once free of foam I was hosed down before being swaddled like a new born child in towels and escorted to a deck chair to relax.

I moved on from this room to have a full body massage and face mask before my  time in the hamam was complete.

Dinner: pizza fungi but it had capers on which was a bit disappointing 

  

The boat trip

Avast ye scurvy dogs I got a boat to sail the seven seas. Well actually it was a tourist boat called the Falcon and it was supposed to go on a tour around the turquoise coast. I say 'supposed to' as the seas were actually far too choppy that we actually only ended up going to the next bay around the corner.

I was most disgruntled that we missed out on our mud bath and that all the other passengers had to miss out on my rendition of 'mud, mud glorious mud'.

As well as being annoyed about this I had also forgotten to bring my book  so I had nothing to do for six hours but to go swimming and lie in the sun and I bloody hate sun…I have heat rash on my face as well.

The highlight of the day, for me anyway, not for Karen who was feeling quite seasick (although I beg to question why on earth you would go on a boat trip if you get sea sick) was when the boat got out of the bay and was hit by the waves.

Do you when you are a child and play with a toy that has a round bottom and you can delight in watching it rock back and forth, in circles or in any which way- Wikipedia tells me that is called a weeble. Well that was me doing teddy bear rolls across the top deck.

For dinner we had a BBQ buffet complete with live music and a firework finale.  

The 'jolly buddha' chef and me

Going to Letoon

On the agenda today were the historic Lycian cities of Xanthos, Letoon and Patara.

Our first stop was Xanthos (Kinik) which according to my Thomas Cook guidebook was the greatest city of Lycia. The ancient ruins overlook the Xanthos river. We were lucky enough to have a tour guide to show us round and as far as tour guides go we could have done a lot worse…he was quite easy on the eyes.

In total I think we spent about two hours together looking at the ruins of the Byzantine basilica, houses, the agora (also known as a forum) and the amphitheatre as well as walking up the hill (insert angry face) to have a look at the necropolis and tombs. Other items of interest included the mosaic floors, (protected in most areas by a top layer of gravel) underground water pipes and a metal slab that looks like stone on which the parentals had great fun playing different tunes.

The city of Xanthos, the administrative centre of the Lycian Leauge is suggested to have been first been inhabited in the 8th century BC and has since seen the rule of three major kingdoms: Lycian, Byzantian and Roman and in that two major sieges.

The people of Xanthos are said to have fought valiantly in both sieges especially in 545-546 BC when the Persian commander Harpagos attacked. Yet after realising that they were going to be sacked by the enemy there was a mass suicide including many women and children and the city was burnt to the ground.-ha how do you like us now Harpagos.

Xanthos lost its importance both as a city and a port after the Muslim raids of the 7th century and carried on life as a small village. That is until a British archeologist: Charles Fellows comes along in 1838-42 discovers the area and ships a lot of the pretty stuff of to the British Museum meaning that as you go round looking at the ruins you will see that that some of the tops of pillars are missing…because they are in London.

After a spot of tomb shopping we bid our tour guide farewell and carried on towards Letoon which was the sanctuary of Leto.

Here there were more ruins to look at yet the miserly man in charge would not pay for another set of entrance fees so we were forced to look upon the ruins from afar.

Another spot on our route was Patara which they have only recently started to excavate, indeed the last building found was only discovered in 2011. Patara is most well known for its sandy beach that stretches for 22km. However the beach is only open until 7 o'clock in the evenings as it is a protected area for turtle nesting. Alas we did not spot any turtles as I later found out the turtle nesting time is between April and May.

Our menu for this evening included:

Happy hour of Beer, red wine and a caramel milkshake for yours truly

A mixed mezze, Chicken skewers and mackerel between three

And a selection of Turkish delight and baklava for pudding

A day of exploration

After a morning spent exploring the resort (read being pulled up and down steep inclines and a total of 100 steps) and swimming in the sea (which was bizarrely cold on the surface and warm underneath, the total opposite of what you would expect) we drove (thankfully) the short distance into the town of Kalkan where we spent a few hours wandering through the streets, checking out restaurants and a little light retail therapy. I was most  pleased when we met a lady selling Fez…Fezes…what exactly is the plural of Fez? Does it follow the rule of words ending with z and  take on an 'es' when they are pluralised or instead does it do something akin to what they say in Pirates of the Carribean like the majority of English grammar where 'rules are more like guidelines.'

Alas I did not have time to buy myself a Fez as my father was growing impatient at having to wait outside yet another shop…although technically the stall was outside. I will just have to visit Fez lady again.

Kalkan is known for having a vast array of restaurants and cafes so much so that you wonder how any of them actually make any money. You can hardly move for Turkish men trying to tell you why you should eat at their establishment.

Turning off the Main Street and walking past a barber who was offering bread shaving we found a quaint little family run restaurant where the owner Rashad….I think that was his name…invited us in for tea.   which also happened to be the staff's dinner. If you listen to a Turkish man waffle for long enough dear readers you will be rewarded for as well as our free tea we also each got a meatball to try.   

Amongst discussions over the menu and where to go and visit whilst we were in the area we observed how the staff (we found out later that this was actually the daughter and her husband) were making the restaurant's speciality: stuffed meatballs

Feeling like we really should go back to the restaurant for our dinner we carried on with our tour of the town and harbour before going to the supermarket for some breakfast necessities and returning to the resort to put on my new dress.

Dinner this evening consisted of: A mixed mezze to start

I had a spinach and cheese Pide - a kind of Turkish Pizza but made with much finer dough

Lamb Shish kebab for the papa and a chicken kebab for my mother. Although realising after the food arrived that the cheese used for my Pide was actually Feta the mother and I swapped.

Pudding was  a baklava and a complimentary fruit platter.

welcome to Lycian Coast

The Lycian way stretches 500 miles across the southern coast of Turkey and I'm quite certain that my mama and papa would have chosen to partake in this walk if i hadn't decided to come along to spoil their fun. 

The Lycians were Ancient Turkish people who were constantly under attacked by the Greeks who admired the fact that the Lycians were able to resolve how to reconcile free government in the city-state with the needs of a larger political unity. Lycia is the first known democratic state. But more about Lycia when we go to Xanthos and Patara. 

Hitting the shops mere days before the grand depart and a mad panic about not having a suitable pair of white linen trousers I added two tops, two dresses, four pairs of pants and a pair of trousers (yes indeed a white linen pair despite it being mid October...thank god for Marks and Spencers) to my holiday wardrobe. (all for £100 bargain) Add to this the Benefit First Class Fake Its that i bought mid flight and the jobs a good un.

Despite passing many different Travel Exchange desks both at Manchester and then later Dalaman airports my father took the courageous desision not to buy any Turkish Lira. Was this a flawed choice? I think so 

The first hurdle we faced about not having any of the right currency was when we reached the hire car and it transpired that we had to pay to get out of the airport. I kid you not, you did not read this correctly, we had to pay to get out. 

We calmly explained to the man in the little booth that we had no money to which he replied in broken English that we could pay five euros or five pounds and he would pay us the change back in Lira. 

Armed with our five Liras (roughly about £2) we set off down the road to start our two hour journey to Kalkan. Alas our hard earned cash did not last very long as we had to pay a toll to drive through a tunnel. 

Tomorrow the adventure begins...