Day one of our little adventure was the grand experiement. Could we really just pick a direction and drive and be rewarded/entertained by what we happened upon? You can just decide for yourself as you read on, I suppose. I am giving you, the readership, ultimate control here, so do not abuse your gift of power.

We thought that we might make our way in the direction of Kaş. I was quite keen on getting to Kaş because it seems to be a very popular spot amongst expats that call Turkey their home and hippie types.

We passed through a city called Kumluca. There’s not much that is noteworthy about this place in my opinion. It’s a rather hum drum city along the coast with no sea view, even. The only thing that managed to stimulate my giggle reflex were these tacky sculptures of giant vegetables along the road.

This was the first of many towns where the main industry is hydroponic veggie production. Viewing such towns from above along the winding road produced a rather monotonous view of large swathes of greenhouses for miles in every direction.
Traditionally, in less urbanized areas, women tend solely to their homes and families, as opposed to say, working in a bank. But women here can be seen working in these greenhouses because it is considered an extension of their home. Ramshackle makeshift homes are constructed on the sides of these greenhouses and women can be seen filling containers from the irrigation ditch or hanging their laundry as goats and chickens dart about.
Some of these “homes” were nothing more than walls that appeared to have been shrink-wrapped with greenhouse material.

On our way to see some ancient ruins, we passed through the towns of Beldibi and Kemer. I will speak more about Kemer later because it factors in significantly at the end of our journey. But all I can say about Beldibi is that it is a very small village that was lucky enough to be located on some gorgeous seaside AND invaded by Russian tourists in the summer. A traffic light and seaside resort hotels sprung up and a city had a purpose.
Seeing no reason to spend any time there, we drove on.

As in States, sites of historical or environmental significance are indicated by brown signs along the road. The first sign to draw our attention was for a place called Phaselis.
Phaselis was once a very important Lycian city. It is an isthmus at which three harbors are located; harbors which were once very important places of deportation for trade between Greece, Asia, Egypt and Phoenicia. It was once seized by Alexander the Great.

What remains are aquaducts and what is believed to be the main avenue where shops and roman baths once thrived. When you get to the seaside, you pass through what remains of Hadrian’s Waterway Gate.

For me, the most beautiful aspect of this site was the setting. It was a misty grey day, which added to the poetic tinge for me. The site is located in the pine forest of Olympus, surrounded by the Bey Mountains, and ends at a lovely pebble beach. We have such areas in Maine or even Northern California and Oregon, but it may surprise those visiting Turkey for the first time as it seems at odds with what people expect. Quite honestly, this kind of emotional/environmental juxtaposition interests me a lot more than piles of rocks.

I am not a huge history buff, even though I have respect for the historians and archeologists who uncover these place and keep history alive for all of us. In fact, Barış likes to joke that I am his bimbo. So I would be lying to you if I led you to believe that I walked through this place all agog, feeling deeply touched and taken back in time, etc, etc. I was more touched by the cat that popped out of a trash can where he had been hiding out from the drizzle that led us through the ruins as though he were a paid tour guide.

As the drizzle began to turn into full-on rain, we dashed back to the car. The cat seemed displeased that he hadn’t received a proper invite to lunch and sat outside my car door looking very despondent. He clearly felt ripped off having received nothing for his guided tour.

We drove down a long road through the mountains just off the main highway in search of some restaurants that were featured prominently on a huge billboard. They were alabalık places. These are a certain kind of fish that are held in concrete ponds behind the restaurant. When you order it, they send some guy out there with a net to catch them for you. It is obviously a very fresh dining experience and I personally count alabalık among my favorite fish here in Turkey.

Of the many restaurants that were proudly displayed on the billboard, only one was open. This place was called Çaglayan, or waterfall in Turkish.
As we pulled in, a man hurried out to my side of the car with an umbrella. It was the sort of galant gesture that revealed the much-lauded sense of hospitality that Turks possess.

In the summertime, this place must be exceptionally lovely, when the trees are green and full. The open-air terrace seating area featured ottoman-stlye seating, which means floor cushions and low tables. It being too cold to take advantage of such an area, I could only look at it longingly.

Well, the waterfall turned out to be fake, but the food was very tasty indeed. And the pot-belly stove in the middle of the dining room was a very welcome touch after our soggy sight-seeing.
Not much in the mood for fish, I took Barış’s recommendation and ordered something called çoban kavurma, which translates as something like fried shephard’s meat. It is essentially lamb and onions served in a sizzling copper skillet over a tealight. It was greasy, as lamb tends to be, but it was good, good, good!

After a hearty lunch, we drove on. The weather had not improved, unfortunately and we grew a bit weary of the road. We decided to set our sights on Kaş the following day instead.

And as I just noticed the absurd length of this entry, I will just leave hanging until tomorrow about where we ended up for the night.