What We Did—and Didn’t Do—Today in Antalya

Gorgeous view from above the harbor. Amazingly clear today!

We continue to be amazed and enchanted by Antalya! Today was the day we would finally take the “sea bus” across the bay to Kemer, a small and not particularly interesting seaside village. Apparently there’s some tourist hotels and a beach, and not much else. But see, it’s truly the journey, not the destination that’s of interest here. The boat ride lasts about an hour, and today was a lovely day to get out on the water! And, since this time of year the boat bus only runs two days a week, it had to be a weekend.

Unloading the catch on a Sunday morning. We'll get ours later tonight, at a restaurant...

We were up earlier than we generally want to, and were down at the harbor in plenty of time for the 10AM boat. The sun was low and bright, and there were few people about. The air has been dryer lately, which means incredible views of the snow-capped mountains across the way. We’ve let several weekends slip by, and today, by golly, we were making this trip.

One of the many tour boats, ready to board in the harbor.

Imagine our disappointment, then, when we were told the boat was cancelled today! Windy. Oh, no! All dressed up and no place to go. What do we do?

We go exploring! Let’s get on the bus, sez Paula, and go to Lara Beach, south of here. OK, that’ll be the number 08 bus, the one everyone takes. (It’s a running joke here, apparently: the number 08 is always full, since no one knows where any of the other buses go.) Paula has gotten us a transport card (a credit-card sized thing that allows us to ride the buses and the two trams, both the fast new one and the older “nostalgia” tram). We’re soon settled in, and in 10 or 15 minutes have passed the furthest point we visited so far, and into new exploratory territory. 

The private spa at the end of Lara Beach, where we were asked to leave. (There's plenty of open beach behind us, though!)

The bus turns away from the coast, and its modern high-rises, restaurants, cafes, and shops all the way. We track our progress with our favorite app, Maps.ME (stores maps off-line on our phones so we don’t need a data connection to find our way home), and note we’ll be passing right by the Dṻden Waterfall, one of the must-see sites in Antalya. SO, we decide to see it, and get off a few stops before the end of the line at the beach.

The arrow-straight, nearly-overflowing fast-moving creek that leads to the waterfall.

No problem getting lost at this point; we just follow the arrow-straight, nearly-overflowing fast-rushing creek through a park to the cliff edge. And then… the water falls. There’s still not a lot of people out; maybe no one gets up early on Sunday? We arrive and it’s quite dramatic. Not as good as our expected boat ride, but pretty good all the same. I notice little solar panels stuck all over the cliff face near the waterfall; oh, solar lights! Must be sparkly at night. We’ll have to go back again, after sunset.

My travel brochure-ready photo of the falls.

Near the falls. Note the the wind socks on the top of the palm trees... it was blowin'!

Another bus ride, and we were back in familiar territory. Next item to complete: lunch! We found yet another new place (there are so many!), and ordered fish, again. Lots and lots of fish here. This time it was salmon. (OK, not local, but we like it!)

It's always a great plus when you order something you really like to eat, and when it comes, it completely exceeds your already high expectations. That's what happened this time, with a parchment-wrapped salmon fillet. Oh my! We will go back to that place!

Tomorrow, Monday, we embark on an even more ambitious adventure, a bus ride a few hours down the coast to the small (but highly recommended!) village of Kaş, where we’ll spend a couple of days. Don’t worry, I’ll take lots of pictures…

Around the corner from where we live is this magnificent ruin. Everyone has their picture taken here. Now, me too!

Turkey on the Blue Mediterranean

Beautiful weather, ancient sites, friendly people, great food, snow-capped peaks visible across the blue blue water… oh, and excellent inexpensive restaurants. How can we do better than this stay in Antalya?

View of the coast from above the harbor

At one of our favorite restaurants

The old harbor, seen from our favorite restaurant!

The first time we ever visited Turkey was last Spring, when we explored the fantastic landscapes of Cappadocia, the whirling Sufis and tomb of Rumi in Konya (click here), toured Troy and Pergamum and the battle fields of Gallipoli (click here and/or here), and finally finished with a week in Istanbul. Oh, and our time in Selçuk, and the fabulous concert in the ancient theater at Ephesus (and if you’ve forgotten that, you absolutely must click here). Turkey was quite a surprise—quite a pleasant surprise! So we had to come back. But why Antalya?

Re-read the first sentence!

Attalus Philadelphos overlooks what's become of his city.

We’ve been here for over a week, taking our time and exploring slowly, and constantly uncovering new delights. We are staying in the old town, known as the Kaleiҫi (the “-ҫ-“is a sort of hard c, pronounced “che.” (Sorry, GoT fans, this isn’t the origin of “Khaleesi.”) The town, rising steeply above the ancient harbor, was originally established around 188 BCE, and was named by Attalus Philadelphos II, an early king (after himself, of course!*). Lest we forget, there is a nice statue of him in a town square. Also, lest we forget that the Roman Emperor Hadrian passed this way in 130 CE, the triumphal arch built for his entrance is still preserved. (He doesn’t get a statue, though).

* (Hum, just think, the town might have been named Philadelphia!)

Hadrian's Gate

The Kaleiҫi is a wonderful place to wander; small, and full of cutesy buildings. There’s something about the texture of the stone buildings, the warm tones of the walls and the walkways (smooth paving stones, easier to walk on than the rounded cobbles popular in Europe.).  Somehow I find that a very satisfying combination. And, these refurbished buildings house pubs and restaurants, inns and hotels, shops and stores. Everything the tourist might want! The restaurants vary, but some are decidedly upscale with excellent food, beautiful views over the harbor, and yet quite affordable. Many of them have live music in the evening.

  

Scenes of the old town, Kaleici

Us, on the street where we live.

The rest of Antalya is all modern city (with a total population of around two million), high-rise apartments with an incredible variety of shops and stores at ground level. Lots and lots of restaurants, at least four on every block! Plenty of “casual dining” (fast food)—hamburgers, dӧner (meat roasted on a vertical spit, also known as kebab, or kabap here), pizza both of the Italian variety and pide, the Turkish version. The roads are wide, amenable to cars (of which there are a great many), and the broad sidewalks are constantly crowded. I don’t know where all those people are coming from or going to, but I imagine it gets pretty packed in the summer!

There's a LOT going on in greater Antalya!

We’re in the off-season now (March), and the streets of the Kaleiҫi are thinly populated. The shops are open for business, selling all manner of goods: beautiful carpets and rugs (this is Turkey, after all), weavings, pottery. Clothing. Plus all the usual tourist kitsch, oftentimes in the same shop. The shop keepers are respectful, and not overly insistent, but always requesting your attention. (We’re learning to politely decline…) Overall, though, there is a feeling of anticipation, an expectation, almost impatience, for the season to start; for the streets of the Kaleiҫi to be filled with the summer crowds. All that shop space, all those empty tables in the pubs and restaurants; all those sales people sitting in front of their shops: Ready to burst into action! But not yet, not quite yet…

Ancient Roman citizens right at home in Antalya.

A series of statues devoted to music and musicians

A Sunday Stroll in Antalya

Antalya is tucked into a protected corner of the south coast of turkey, with coastline stretching away to both the east and south. For our first Sunday in Antalya we took a stroll along the south coast, cliffs falling to the ocean on our left and the high-rises and busy road of the city to our right.  The cliffs widened out and formed into a long narrow—and very busy—parking lot. Where were all these people going? We weaved our way through the cars and came to a series of cafes and restaurants set in parkland along the cliff edge. Families with kids running around, couples, friends drinking tea (ҫay, in Turkish) or eating, or playing cards or board games (backgammon is very popular!).  

This, we found out, is Ataturk Park, running about a mile along the cliff front away from the harbor, where the good folk of Antalya gather to relax and play. We encountered some hang gliders taking advantage of the updrafts along the cliffs, which provided a real thrill. The landscape changed as we moved further along, with the cliffs giving way to a long, flat beach. We wound down the switchbacks to the ocean walk.

View overlooking Konyaalti Beach

By now we are really ready for some lunch, and I feared that we’d left the best behind, up there on the cliffs. Instead, we came to what seems to be the latest beach hot spot, a long string of identical, modern but not unattractive, glass and concrete boxes housing all manner of places to eat and drink. Well, soon, anyway: most of them aren’t open yet! The signs are promising: Gastro bar! Coffee and pastries! Ice cream! Some seem ready to open, with nicely laid-out tables and décor, chains on the doors. Others are still construction sites. I begin to despair of having lunch today.

Families and friends gather along Konyaalti Beach

Ah, lunch outside.

Oh, but it seems we started at the newer end. We continue for maybe a kilometer (1/2-mile), the grass on our left filled with kids and families and young adults enjoying the day, much as they were at the more-established Ataturk Park we’d passed earlier. On our right, creative and entertaining signs announcing the delights of eating places yet to open. Finally, right at the end, we come to a fine, casual restaurant. We ate very well, washing it all down with good Effes beer, and then strolled across the park to the water.

 

A view back towards the old harbor and Kaleici from Konyaalti Beach

A very modern coffee shop (ready to open Real Soon Now!)

It’s not sand, but tiny pebbles. Not uncomfortable to lie on; full and content, we snooze in the sun. Eventually it’s time to head back. We return the way we came, eventually reaching the main road at the top of the cliffs, where we ride the tram back to the Kaleiҫi (about $1USD for both of us). A very satisfying day!

Coffee Culture in Antalya

All those modern coffee shops along the beach got me thinking: are they Western imports? Is coffee a new thing here? Some quick research and a visit to the Ethnological Museum at the end of our street showed that coffee has been part of Turkish culture for a very long time. Coffee shops were popular in Constantinople (former name of Istanbul) before Europeans arrived in the New World. Coffee apparently was first discovered / developed on the Arabian Peninsula in what’s now Yemen—although Ethiopia, across the Gulf of Aden, also has claims on the origin—and spread widely throughout the Arab world, including the Ottoman Empire. Coffee houses were where people gathered to meet and discuss the issues of the day. (In fact, due to the information passed around while imbibing in this popular drink, coffee houses came to be known as “School for the Wise”). Coffee didn’t make it to Europe until the 16^th Century. So no, coffee here is not an import from the West! What’s new in Turkey is the espresso machine, those large fancy Italian contraptions that are the mainstay of European coffee shops.

From the museum, coffee roasting spoons (lower right) and wooden cooling dishes (upper left), coffee cups and holders. Plus, in a modern coffee shop, this great graphic, coffee with the suggestion of a tulip, symbol (and product!) of Turkey.

Traditional Turkish coffee, served in all the cafes and restaurants here, involves boiling water, removing it from the heat and adding finely-ground coffee, then letting it steep and settle. The result: hot, strong, a bit grainy towards the end, and sweet. Always sweet! The question when ordering coffee is how much sugar, three lumps, or just two? If, after you have finished, you invert the cup on the saucer it’s said your future can be read in the coffee grounds. There’s even an app for that: you send a photo of the dregs and get your fortune told by Internet. Ah, the modern world!

Paula, with my coffee cup and her glass of cay.

More common, and more widely drunk in cafes and restaurants (and cheaper!), is ҫay, Turkish tea. While there are specialty pots to make it, it’s the same infusion of black tea leaves that’s found around the world (even if the Turkish word is pronounced “chai”). What makes it special are the little glasses and saucers that are used to serve it.  Entranced early on, we bought a set in Selҫuk last fall; I guess we could have waited ‘till we got here, and not have dragged them across Europe with us for five months!

            

Incredible mountains across the water...

            Ancient Sites

We’ve been to two so far: the partial-excavated and well-manicured Perge, and the wild and mountainous Termessos. We will be getting over to Aspendos, with its incredibly well-preserved theater. 

Driftwood sculpture of chamois in a park in Kaleici.

 

But all that’s for a future blog. We’ve said enough for this post already!

Fuzzed Out by Fez

We were very excited to return to the Fez medina (the old town). Two years ago we’d spent two months living in a restored riad(traditional house) in the medina, following the complex, winding streets and meeting the vendors and other residents of this ancient and unique city. Would we be remembered? Well, we hoped so.

On the street where we stayed this time around.

Now we’ve returned, and it has been incredibly heart-opening and satisfying to find how well we are remembered. I’m stunned. The other day we hiked the 20 or 30 minutes down through the twisting, crowded streets to a café near the river. As we sat drinking our café au lait a fellow from across the street ran up and said “Hey, Paul! Remember me?!” Yeah, I did. We’d had a couple of conversations two years ago. He sold lamps and bowls to tourists, and was still at it now. And he remembered my name! I was pleased, and humbled.

Dyed skins drying, ready to be made into any number of fine leather goods.

Closer to home (which is to say, where we stayed for our previous two months) we had met and often talked with some of the shopkeepers who spent most of their day sitting, and talking to customers. They greeted us so warmly I was almost embarrassed. It was like we were family. In fact, several mentioned that we were family. What an incredible experience!

Paula and a local woodcarver.

And then there is Kevin, our current host and new friend. A (former) Brit, he’s been living in Fez for a dozen years or more, and knows everybody on the street. Walking with him is to be constantly interrupted by greetings: a handshake, a hug, even just a wave (all of which then entail a conversation). Through him I’ve come to see the Fassi (people from Fez) as truly open and warm.

After a week of reacquainting ourselves with the city and its residents, our daughter Nina came for a visit. She too was fascinated by the ancient sights and colorful, crowded scenes. And she, too, learned to relieve the intensity of the city the way the Fassi do: escape to the roof.

We greet Nina at the Fez Airport

As described in our blog posting from our first visit to Fez, buildings in the ancient median have few (or no!) windows, but all have a roof-top terrace. Kevin had fixed his up quite nicely, with a large hammock and spots for sitting and relaxing. And, in the afternoon, he’d bring up the cage with his two budgies (parakeet-like birds). They liked the shaded sun and fresh air; we enjoyed their songs and bright movements. We spent many pleasant hours looking over the rooftops of Fez and the adjacent hills.

Views from the rooftop. Kevin with his budgies, Paula with her thoughts.

Nina, off on a photo adventure.

Lost in (medina) Space

Having spent two months living in the medina two years ago, we consider ourselves to be old medina hands: we know our way around, can find where we want to go, and now… hey, people recognize us on the street! So we are willing to try some explorations that newcomers would be ill-advised to do. Or, so we like to think…

Intrepid explorers of the medina!

With our daughter Nina we took a long and rather ambitious exploration, finally ending at the river, which marks the bottom of the valley in which Fez was built. We continued to the near-by Bab R’cif, the gate at the southern end of the medina (Bab means gate). While we stayed in this area on our brief visit five years ago, we’ve hardly visited since. But we’re old medina hands! (It says so in the previous paragraph!) We’ll just head up these alleyways and dead-reckon our way to The Ruined Garden, a pleasant up-scale restaurant near the tourist areas of the medina.

Ah, no. Endless short streets with sharp right turns, splitting into two or three passages in random directions. Narrow—I couldn’t lie fully across the way (not that I’d want to!)—with tall walls on either side, so the sky is a thin slit. Except… sometimes the houses are built out over the road, and we feel like spelunkers wending our subterranean way (through an admirably smooth and level cave!) Ancient timbers show through the stone, with huge beams bracing the walls. It’s quite medieval. (But clean! Today there’s indoor plumbing—no chamber pots being emptied on our heads—and electricity; every night the garbage is collected from the streets. But still, dark and a bit freaky.)

Narrow streets, tiny windows...

These are residential streets. No open shop fronts displaying colorful wares. Just confusing, similar-looking gray and brown alleyways. People live here, it’s a neighborhood, with kids (always teen-age boys) hanging out. And they’re always very helpful, although it’s easy to misinterpret intentions. “Medina is this way!” they shout. But we’re not going to the medina. “Tanneries over here!” No, we won’t fall for that scam! (Although the tanneries really are over there, and the guy’s just being helpful; he’s hanging out with his buddies and has no intention of accompanying us.) Or “It’s closed!” Their version of a dead-end. Who to believe? And our normally trusty Maps.me app has no idea where we are or which way to go.

We meet up with a Chinese couple. Strength in numbers, we figure, so the five of us press on, amid the amused looks and shouted encouragement of the locals. The couple is actually quite frightened; it’s their first time in this confusing place and they feel targeted. We’re all a bit confused by the shouted directions, no matter how well intentioned. And every story we’ve ever heard about tourists being ripped off comes to the fore.

Eventually we reach the restaurant, now our oasis, and gratefully escape the streets with help of one young man. He does demand money though, which we refuse to pay. I invite the Chinese couple to join us, and we are seated at a table. Ah, sanity! The young woman, who was really scared, peers out the door and claims “he’s still out there!” Eventually, I go check—no, it’s somebody else. (I think...)

The Photo Club

Last time in Fez we discovered the Photo Club and went on several interesting outings with them. We reconnected with the club and had time for only one meeting, but it was a good one: finding opportunities for portraits as we cruised through the medina. Omar, our guide, grew up in Fez and is thoroughly familiar with the medina, so I had full trust as we followed him into some out-of-the-way places.

Seen at the cafe.

We visited familiar streets and places I’d never been; jumped from one well-known spot to another through back passageways that left my head spinning. We ended at Place Seffarine, where artisans and craftsmen have been beating great sheets of bronze and copper into useful pots and bowls for centuries, and Omar gave us our instructions: take photos of people and meet back here in 30 minutes!

Traditional metal worker in Place Seffarine

I headed for the river, with its familiar café, right around the corner. They were glad to see me again, and I was glad to sit and rest for a bit. Ah, but a smoker was bothering me; I captured his image and silently thanked him for his unwitting contribution to my portfolio.

People in the streets of Fez.

I was soon joined by two other members of our outing, French women teaching in Fez. We chatted, sipped our coffee, and watched the endless parade of interesting characters. And I got a few more good shots, too!

Some of the extraordinary artisan metal work in Fez.

Truly a masterpiece: a world globe in pierced metal, made by a master craftsman we'd met before. (While not visible here, each country has its name engraved on the globe. in tiny letters..)

Time to Go

It’s been a week since we left Fez, and I find I have mixed feelings. The warmth and joy of being greeted by those we’d met previously began, mysteriously, to feel like a responsibility, a social burden. The bright shops full of color and life, the welcoming vendors, began to feel repetitive; the narrow dark alleyways no long sources of adventure, but rather just tiresome. Were we getting some kind of Fez burnout?

Communal bakery in the medina

So a week later I’m still wondering at the transition. How did the delight and wonder of being welcomed turn into obligation? How did the liveliness and mystery of the medina become boring and tedious? If we went back, which would we feel, the joy of reconnection or the tedium of unchanging sameness? Would we, in fact, go back?

I don’t know. To all the above, I don’t know. Maybe in another two years. Maybe never. But we will always cherish the experiences we’ve had in Fez; the magic and mystery, the connections, the friendliness shown to us. That will remain, where ever we go next.

A farewell photo of Bab Boujloud, the famed Blue Gate of Fez

Ah! Now that we're done with Fez, we can start in on our new adventures in Antalya, on Turkey's southern coast. Stay tuned!

Malta

This blog is about a trip we took to Malta in early January. We are currently in Antalya, Turkey. And a bit behind on the blog! We still need to cover our two weeks in Fez. But Sue has been bugging me to get this one out. So, this blog is dedicated to our friends, Sue and Allan!

We enjoy our travels in Europe. Obviously! But we do miss our family and friends from the States.   Lately, though, we've had some visitors who were a real delight.

First was my daughter Nina, who joined us for a few days in Seville. We did all the usual Seville things: strolled through the narrow streets, admiring the architecture of the ancient (and some modern!) buildings; sitting in a café enjoying the tapas and a beer or café solo. Talking about photography, and comparing photos. Whatever, it’s always great to spend time with her.

Then, we had a visit from Sue and Allan, our long-time friends from Portland, OR. In addition to visiting Granada and Sevilla they had a hankering to get over to the island nation of Malta, a place we’ve often thought of visiting, too. So, after a few days of strolling the streets and enjoying the tapas and beer and other pleasures of Seville, we boarded a plane for the 3-hour flight to Valletta, Malta’s capital city.

Cold. Maybe that’s a trivial summary for a place with a long and vibrant history, but it was cold, and that made an impression on us. Cold and windy. Well, it WAS right after New Year’s, and so it was the dead of winter. We had some rain, but the sunny days were a delight.

Views of Valletta: Overview (top); seen from our apt. window (left); scene in the streets (right and bottom)

Originally settled by the Order of St. John (also known as the Order of Knights of the Hospital of Saint John of Jerusalem, or simply the Hospitallers), Malta was taken over by the Ottoman Turks in the Great Siege of 1565, but ultimately re-taken by the Hospitallers. They built a great fortified city, named after the Grand Master of the order, Jean de Valletta. Pope Pius V sent an architect, Francesco Laparelli (honored by a statue today). So unlike many medieval cities, Valletta was designed with wide straight streets, avoiding the short narrow alleyways common to most cities of that era. The Order of St. John ruled the islands for the next 232 years.

Somewhere near the Opera House, at night

The French, under Napoleon, invaded Malta in 1798, and then capitulated to the British two years later. It was a British Protectorate for a time, and then a Crown Colony until 1964. Today Malta is an independent nation and part of the European Union. The British influence is still quite heavy, though. While the Maltese have their own language, English is also an official language, and the prime language of commerce. Which is to say, all the shops and restaurants in Valletta have signs and menus in English. While the British no longer have any governmental function in Malta, during the summer there may well be more Brits there than locals. It’s a huge vacation spot, and apparently quite crowded in the peak season.

Christmas lights!

Not so many people, though, in January. We found nearly all the shops and cafes open and doing a good business, but the streets were far from crowded. That first night out on the town we did run into a minor problem in that while most restaurants had extensive outdoor seating, there wasn’t much room inside. Oh, and did I mention it was cold? We did find the food to be good, and quite varied. Heavily influenced by Italy and Sicily (pizza, anyone?), and the demands of British vacationers, there was also excellent seafood (hey, it’s an island in the Med!)

For our second day, Sue and Allan suggested a bus ride to Mdena, a near-by city (also from the 15^th century), then on to a couple of very special sites. The island of Malta is home to some ancient ruins that predate the pyramids of Egypt. What?

Entrance to Mdena (top); Sue and Paula enjoying the city; Allan, an avid birder, finally gets his Maltese Falcon

Mdena was interesting, lots of highly-decorated stone buildings. It was quite remarkable, but by now I’m getting pretty used to old stone buildings. It was a great outing, and I have no regrets about going, but I found nothing particularly unique or special about Mdena (except, possibly, how to pronounce it…).

Cathedral of St. Paul in Mdena

The temples, though, were something else. There are two sites, known as the Ħaġar Qim & Mnajdra Temples, about 500 meters apart. (Actually, there are a number of Neolithic sites on Malta, but these are the best known and most popular). They have been dated to 3500 BCE, which long held the record for the oldest site of human habitation known (until the discovery of Göbekli Tepe in south-eastern Turkey, which seems to be about 6000 years older). I found it quite extraordinary to stand before these stones, carved and laid down so very long ago. Of course, no one knows exactly what the structures are or how they were used. The designation “temple” is something of a guess, I guess.

Overview of one of the sites, with details below. To the right, a rainbow, and a tiny carving unearthed among the temples.

We climbed around for a bit, took our photos, looked out to sea at the small island of Filfa, and moved on to the adjacent temple. The rain started then, in fits and starts. Both sites are covered to protect them from the elements (5000+ years old and we’re worried about damage from rain and wind? Whatever…), so we didn’t get wet. It was a long hike back to the bus stop, but the rain was just a sprinkle, and we were rewarded by a bit of a rainbow.

We later visited the archeological museum in Valletta, where many of the artifacts from the site are on display. Seeing the originals of the carved stones (reproductions have been placed at the sites themselves), particularly the intricate tiny statues, was quite a treat. One of the better stocked museums I’ve seen, and a must-visit in Valletta!

Carved stone taken from the temple sites; replaced by replicas.

Once back in town our interest shifted to dinner. We found an excellent restaurant that solved the seating problem by building a clear-plastic shelter around their outdoor tables. The fish was wonderful, the service quite good, and we stayed warm! Afterwards we tripped around the city at night, lit by the municipal Christmas lights. Here’s a brief video of Paula and Sue enjoying the evening and the music provided by the city of Valletta…

Paula and Sue and the Valletta Christmas Music

We had one final day on Malta, and then Paula and I were up early to the airport, flying back to Sevilla. We’d said our good-byes to Sue and Allan the night before; their plans had them heading to Gozo, the smaller of the two main inhabited islands of the Malta archipelago, for further explorations.

Bundled up in sunny but cold Malta

All in all we had a good time, and thoroughly enjoyed the company of our friends. We’ve been curious about Malta, and can now check that one off the list. Malta has its history, its astonishing archeological sites, and its beaches, but I don’t envision us making another visit.

A multi-selfie on Malta (with Christmas lights overhead).