Ten Minutes (Antalya Part 2)

Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to thank you for your attention and warm responses to Antalya Part 1! Please fasten your seatbelts and keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times as we dive into "Ten Minutes (Antalya Part 2)."

Monday morning, nicely rested and ready for more adventure and exploration, Annika and I went down to breakfast at our hotel and were informed that "our friend" had arrived. That friend was Mary Spanarkel, another Fulbrighter who teaches in Balıkesir and--against all odds, considering having her first bus ticket reservation mysteriously misplaced--had arrived early in the morning to join our Antalya excursion! When she found the Urcu and revealed her connection to us, the hotel staff graciously offered her breakfast...what they did not know was that we would not be staying at the Urcu for two more nights. The Sabah Pensiyon, where the boys were staying, was much cheaper and also had triple rooms, which we would need to house Mary with us. Below are pictures of our one-night Urcu home:

Mary shows off the space that was almost hers.

So we felt pretty bad that they had been so nice to Mary, but Annika went through the uncomfortable process of checking us out (they were not happy...) while I packed up my stuff, and then we headed down to the Sabah to meet the boys for a day full unpredictable adventures!

Here are some photos of the boys' room (I forgot to take pictures of ours...but it was comparable) at the Sabah, as well as the courtyard, where we convened in the mornings to discuss plans and in the evenings to drink Efes (the Turkish equivalent of Budweiser) and play Bananagrams.

Courtyard - That table in the foreground was our fave

Mary and Annika get silly as I document Ryan and Dan's room

Facing back towards the entrance to the pensiyon

Our rooms were not in this old Ottoman house part of the pensiyon...but that's okay!

So, after some discussion, we all decided that we would take a day trip to Olympos, which a the site of old ruins right on the Mediterranean (used to be a Sicilian pirate base!) about an hour and a half outside of Antalya. According to Ryan's friend, it's one of the most beautiful places in Turkey, and there's a gorgeous beach. So we figured we'd pack our swim gear, arrive with plenty of time to see the ruins and hang out on the beach...it was going to be great. 

We got on the city tram (which was free during the bayram--score), took it to the otogar (the bus station), and bought tickets for a bus that would take us "to Olympos." Apparently, these buses leave every "ten minutes." Now you know where the title comes from...Turkish time estimates are simply not known for their accurary. So about fifty minutes later the bus finally filled up and we were on our way. The ride was to take about an hour and a half...which it did...but there came a time when we asked, 

"How much farther?"

"Ten minutes ahead."

"Right."

Remember, grain of salt, people. It was at least half an hour more...maybe forty-five minutes. But we finally arrived! Just...not at Olympos. No, rather, we were dropped off at a little roadside stop where a dolmuş (mini bus) would apparently come pick us up to take us down to the shore and Olympos.

Pensive Ryan

We discuss our next move

Annika and Dan

"So," we inquired of the old man who ran the establishment. "When will the dolmuş get here?"

"About ten minutes."

An hour later, after buying a number of snacks and sipping on some Efes, we realized that, since the sun would go down at 4:00 pm, we weren't going to have much daylight once we arrived at Olympos...but there was no turning back now! Fortunately, a dolmuş guy finally showed up. His time estimate for departure, however, was about an hour. But guess how long it actually took us to leave? Ha. Ten minutes.

Is this like Seinfeld yet, or what?

We all piled into the dolmuş and buckled up (figuratively only--psh, you think people use seatbelts here?) for an absolutely terrifying ride down the mountain. Being a lover of thrill rides, I actually had a fabulous time with this guy as my driver, but everyone else was decidedly less enthusiastic about the ways he nearly threw us off switchback after switchback. I happily munched on pretzel sticks and shot off a quick prayer that we wouldn't all die...no biggy.

Once we arrived in the vicinity of Olympos, every free inch of space seemed to be taken up by pensiyons and restaurants...I mean, it was really something. It was like going to the beach in the United States--you know how, if tourists come, even if a place is in the middle of nowhere, a little tourist-catering town will basically spring up? That's exactly what this was like. Finally, the road terminated at a little gate and parking lot, which was apparently where we would buy our tickets to enter the ruins. So we bought said tickets and starting wandering forward, able to see glimpses of the Mediterranean ahead in the distance. Ryan, very serious about reaching the beach while there was still daylight, powered ahead with Dan, but Annika, Mary, and I took a more leisurely approach for photo-ops with what were really beautiful ruins:

Someone's tomb

Then we arrived on the beach, and, as promised, it was truly gorgeous.

US!

The sea itself was extremely calm, almost like the surface of a lake. And since the beach was covered in smooth pebbles and rocks, I started looking for nice, flat ones to skip on that calm water! I achieved some success with up to three skips many times, and I managed to skip some truly huge rocks...I mean, we're talking bigger than my palm rocks. By the end of the day, my rotator cuff was sore from all the flinging. It was all worth it, though, when I ended my skipping activities by skipping a rock about the size of a Pringles lid EIGHT times. That's right. Eight. What. Up.

Sizing up a skip

In action

Facing the water, there was a lovely outcropping of rocks to our right on which Dan decided he would be adventurous. Check out the photographic proof:

Afterward, Ryan noticed that there were people climbing on some ruins up on the mountain itself. According to a semi-hidden sign that we found, it was actually a crumbling old castle...so naturally Ryan and I disappeared up the treacherous trail to check it out. Here's what THAT looked like, and what the views FROM it looked like. At sunset? Truly breathtaking.

Once we climbed down, it was definitely beginning to get dark, so we made a group decision. Rather than walk back through the Olympos ruins to catch a dolmuş, we would walk down the beach maybe half a kilometer to a place where we saw grass umbrellas and open beachside restaurants. There, in the midst of a seaside civilization, we were bound to find transportation, right? Right? Bahaha. Wrong.

We walked all the way through this little restaurant town, saw plenty of cars, but no mini buses. We walked up what was obviously the main road, assuming that we would eventually find one...but no...the place was practically a ghost town. Uh oh. Faced with the prospect of never getting home, we naturally needed to stop and ask someone for some help. So we stopped where we found people: at an open-air adventure sports agency.

"Can we get a dolmuş nearby?"

"No, no, there is no dolmuş."

Oh great.

"But my brother...he has a van. You wait here...ten minutes. I will call him."

The man's brother actually arrived after five-ish minutes, then charged us 7 TL a person (just so you know, that's outrageous) to take us "to the main road, where we caught our first dolmuş, where we can get on a bus back to Antalya." Weeeeeeellll that's not exactly where he dropped us off. Rather, he told us to get out at a tiny little bus shelter that was, yes, on the main road, but definitely not where we had begun this journey. Annika and Mary proceeded to chew him out while Ryan, Dan, and I looked on, Mary even refusing to move from in front of his van until he took us to the right place.

"I will take you there. Each person, five lira."

Here, there was a glorious pause that you only see in scripted comedy. He obviously saw the rabid danger in the eyes of my livid friends, because he immediately corrected himself:

"One lira."

However, we did not have to hang out with this guy any more, thank goodness. A bus came down the mountain and honked at us, asking if we wanted on, and OF COURSE WE DID! Without a backward glance at the crooked guy who brought us up the mountain, we piled into the back of the bus and settled in for the hour and a half back to Antalya.

Using the tram again from the otogar, we finally made it back to good ole Kaleiçi, whereupon we immediately sought some serious sustenance. At the restaurant we selected, we were the only patrons aside from one other table that dissipated about halfway through our meal. We gorged ourselves on delicious mezes (Turkish appetizers...like tapas) and then ordered some larger plates to share. The food was great, and our server was an absolutely hilarious older man who called us "my teachers" once he found out that's what we were, but it was also quite chilly at this point, and I was wiped. Bleary-eyed, we finally paid and rolled out of there around 11:30 at night. Dan and I opted to head straight to bed from that point, but Annika, Mary, and Ryan went out to check out the late-night Kaleiçi scene. They were, indeed, out late!

Another adventurous day down...I was loving this. Oh, Antalya, how I long for thy sunny days. Stay tuned for the third and final installment in the Antalya Bayram blog series!

Oh, and, since you've read this far, I assume that you remember my promise to share the amazing water/light/music show video as soon as I got access...well, ladies and gents...here you have it. The finale: Pirates of the Caribbean, Antalya, Turkey.

 

Iyi bayramlar, everybody!