October 20, 2007. Saturday.
I woke up feeling more than a little draggy and congested, so Steve left all on his ownsome to walk down to the beach for sunrise. Apparently it was beautiful, but he woke up every dog in town and his dawn-y ramblings were accompanied by his own personal tragic chorus. He walked all the way down the beach to the ruins of the Roman harbour city of Olympos and poked around briefly before returning to the hotel for breakfast.
This is all heresay, as I wasn't up or awake.
Breakfast was another amazing meal, with the traditional delish breakfast accompanied by more fresh jam and bread. Amazing! We commented to each other that Turkish breakfasts hold us all day, unlike even our healthiest breakfasts at home. Not even 10 grain cereal with fruit, milk, honey & hemp hearts aren't as filling or lasting.
The Canada Hotel had a whole shelf of book exchange and we swapped our Dan Brown and other incomprehensible novel for an A.S. Byatt (less incomprehensible) and a vintage Harlequin (less trashy than D.B., I'm afraid). We spent -- ok, I spent -- the morning lazing around on a poolside lounger. Steve lazed but also splashed around in the slightly chilly pool. Brave man!
Saban returned from Antalya and we were sad to hear that Carrie was staying in town as their daughter had a swim meet. We would have liked to have met her after chatting on Turkey Travel Planner forums... next time! We casually mentioned to Saban that the food, while incredible, was overly plentiful and we were feeling badly for wasting so much of it. Less food woiuld be perfectly acceptable.
We walked down the village again, and I decided to go into the little house with the sign for massages out front. The girl booking didn't speak much English at all, but between my phrasebook and her appointment book, we figured out the masseuse was back tomorrow and I could have a massage at eleven. Paradise!
In the village, we looked around a little grocery store and a shop which contained all kinds of blown glass things -- plates, bowls, tiles, and a whole menagerie of little glass animals. I wanted one -- ok, a zoo of them -- but couldn't quite decide. That and Steve was getting restless in that 'hungry Steve' kind of way. We walked a little further down the road and found a little cafe that advertised gozleme (our new favourite) as well as having divan platforms under trees glossy with ripe oranges and pomegranites. We walked in and sat down (more lounging) on the cushions and an older woman came up to us. After ascertaining that we were foreigners and were there for lunch, she went over to a blanket-covered lump on the divan next door, and woke up the lump... I mean the waitress. Oops! We were sorry to spoil her nap, but she was in pretty good spirits all the same.
We ordered gozleme and our usual visne suyus and settled back on the cushions to unsuccessfully try to convince a kadi to come say hello and take surrepticious pictures of the older woman cooking the gozleme. When they arrived, the gozleme were hot and good, but not superlative like the previous ones... maybe they needed a side of Nevsehir tomatoes!
Replete and un-restless, we walked back through the village to the bridge and turned right towards the beach, where we found a large brown dog who wanted a walk. How did we know he wanted a walk? Because he followed us down the road, around the corner, back to the road when we made a wrong turn, through a restaurant (I know!) and down the beach towards Olympos.
The beach was pebbly and a little challenging to walk on in flip flops since I had to stop every few steps and empty my sandles. I was pretty grouchy by the time we reached the pathway that led away from the tiny lagoon and into the forest wherein lay Olympos. That may have been why the dog abandoned us in favour of a group of people heading in the opposite direction down the beach.
There was no-one at the ticket booth, so we walked right in as noncholantly as possible.
First thing we saw a tomb/ossuary that had belonged to a shipbuilder? Or someone associated with boats, since there was a beautiful carved boat in bias-relief, so detailed it even had a figurehead with flowing hair carved into the prow of the boat.
We walked along stone paths that lead through arches and murky forests sheltering spooky tombs, and over to more ruins including a house with broken pieces of mosaic that were made with black and white pebbles. There was a piece of a temple which was perfectly standing. It seems that when the structures are made of dressed stone blocks they survive, but when it is stone and brick material mortared together, it just crumbles in time. We walked around the back of the temple all the way around some quite intact walls... we would have liked to explore inside but couldn't find a way in.
We found Olympos to be quite extensive though very patchily restored, which actually adds to the charm. It has a magical feel and seeing a series of arches descending into a reflective, reed-fringed pond is positively awestriking.
After making our way up out of the National Park of Olympos, we reached the bottom of the community of Olympos, famed in backpacker circles for cheap lodging and treehouses.
At the bottom end of Olympos, we found a few cafes, another unattended ticket booth and a very well kept washroom (again unattended). I left my 50 kurush on a ledge and walked back down to where Steve was talking to another tourist. Even though I was a little wheezy, we decided to walk a bit on the other side of the river where the ruins continued.
The path was a little rougher, but we saw some beautiful tombs, arches and walls. We left the main path to slither over a bunch of rubble (I was regretting my choice of footwear, though in my defence, this was supposed to be a gentle walk down the beach) to find a theatre and baths. The theatre was nothing much, though the way the jungle was claiming back the arches and walls was quite amazing. The baths were lovely and peaceful and very extensive. We eventually turned back and, upon reaching the main path, decided to try and walk back towards the sea rather than turning and going back up and across the river and back down to the beach. Much to our chagrin, after squishing around in a muddy area, we were back in the baths, but from the other side! Since the thought of navigating the rubble AGAIN was not very appealing, we decided to bushwhack back down to the other side of the lagoon. Fortunately, that was easier than we thought it would be, and we arrived back on the beach only a little wet and muddy.
Back up the beach, through the restaurant, up the road and back to the hotel, where there was more lounging, reading and coughing before dinner.
Saban ignored us. Completely. Dinner was another five mezes, plus salad, bread, soup and another main course. Everything was cooked to perfection and delicious, and again we ate maybe half of it. Oh well -- we tried.
Another early night and we hoped the next day would bring some swimming in the ocean and less coughing for me.
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