From ESN Med'ness - to Kalkan to Fethiye to Izmir to Efes.

On the 20^th of April 2013 over 300 international students arrived in Kemer, Antlaya. They were there in the name of ESN MED’Ness (Erasmus Student Network sur la Mediterranean ) It was safe to say that the Royal Palm Resort did not know what it had got itself into…

After a 9 hour bus ride, which was hilariously Turkish timed (meant to leave Ankara at 1 am – left Ankara at 3am) and a surprisingly good kip we arrived in Antalya. It was pretty nice to feel the excitement building as we drove down the coast parallel to the crystal blue sea. Upon arriving at the hotel, it looked like we had entered some kind of international youth refugee camp. There were  bags and bodies sleeping and sitting littering the lobby for as far as the eye could see. We were ushered downstairs for an incredibly cringe worthy talk about how we should buckle (or set, in Turkish English) our seatbelts for “the crazy ride that was in front of us.” It was really gay.

By  some weird twist of fate, we somehow landed a private villa on the beachfront. It was real sweet with a balcony that looked right over the palm trees and onto the beach. It was also good to get in contact with people, as you could just shout from the balcony. I have a slight suspicion that my roommates did not really appreciate the levels of drunk which were achieved, but I had fun.

The hotel was all inclusive. After losing my band twice in 20 minutes, I was finally to accept the challenge that the British view all inclusive as. Apparently on the first day our group drank over 7,0000 litres of Efes and ate over 3 tonnes of food in the 2 and a ½ days we were there. Very impressive I think. The weather was beautiful, the gin and tonics were free and the international love (in reference to Pitbull) was creating a lovely atmosphere. Now, as my good friend Semih once said “I am not drunk from the alcohol, I am drunk from the atmosphere.” In this circumstance, I was very drunk from the alcohol. Daytime drinking on a beach is never a good idea. Daytime swimming in the sea after gin is also never a good idea. Daytime passing out on your bed that you are sharing with someone, and in turn soaking the entire bed right through to the mattress is also never a good idea. Evening time refusing to wake up to go to dinner is also never a good idea. However, spontaneously waking up at 10pm… declaring that you refuse to miss out on the fun, getting up.. getting into PJ’s… realizing they are PJ’s, getting out of said PJ’s, putting your swimsuit on(?) and then getting dressed, managing to call someone to hold the bus for you and then running to said bus with even a waterproof cover for your camera is the greatest achievement of humanity to date.

Said bus was taking us to a foam party. On a boat.  Now, I haven’t been to a foam party since I nearly got stabbed for being the only white 14 year old in Mode back in the day, and generally they are not really appreciated. However, we were on a boat, which was pretty cool, everyone had been drinking all day and things were a bit silly. We danced alot (especially very obviously ripping the piss out of a Turkish guy who was stood alone at a very awkward distance to the majority of the crowds concentrating very hard on his moves… we thought we were being subtle. We were not.) The night proceeded in a fashion that a night would proceed when 300 students from all over the world have been drinking since daybreak and are then put on a boat. And then I got locked in the toilet. And these photos happened;

The next day with sore heads and wet beds (many thanks Evie Stannard, the bed was still not dry) the all inclusive breakfast was demolished. Unfortunately, on this day it rained on and off and so entertainment was sought by throwing fully dressed people into the pool, playing card games and general mincing.  It also included Spa activities, including a very fun Sauna experience in which Rie decided to test out her incredible Turkish whilst being slightly inebriated. Cok sicak yaaaaaaaahhhh. Saka saka. SO on and so forth.  By this time the hotel staff absolutely hated our guts. No idea why.

That night we were to have our final party to say goodbye to the weekend. However, due to the amount of alcohol our group had collectively consumed the hotel put a two hour gap on our unlimited drinks. I have never seen such anger in so many peoples eyes (except Maijus, my finnish Roomates – whom at this point had been drinking for a fair few hours and was “Very much draaaaannnk Evieeeeee”) At one point I actually heard someone tell the barstaff that this was an abuse of his fundamental human rights, and if the manager was not called then he would file an official complaint with UNHCR. Not really, but you get my gist. Everyone was livid, some were proactive   - Me – and went the 100 yards outside the hotel to buy some beer and then bring it in.

The logic of closing the bar was proved ridiculous as soon as it reopened, with people ordering 8 drinks at once etc. It was chaos. Luckily, I was aligned a la turk and Yanki told the bar man we had been waiting for 45 minutes and that he had to serve us right now. The night was going well, until Maiju went mental and I literally wall of Jehrico’d her to the floor and pinned her there (gin diplomacy). Later, I dislocated my knee. This was entirely the fault of the Italians and Christine Agularia, and no fault of my own what so ever. This was rectified with many people holding ice to my knee, helping me get up the stairs and me describing the whole experience as worse than labor.

Fun.

The next day we departed Antalya and began our voyage to Kalkan. Many thanks to the Wood family for being incredibly generous and allowing us to stay in their beautiful home. After taking a taxi for four with 7 people in, two minibuses and a nice stroll we arrived at Villa Tahta. I had told the guys (this being Coco and Lizzy from Holland, Yanki the Turk American from New York, Rafay from some poor deprived village in Pakistan somewhere, Joel from Ireland and my right hand man, Maiju from Finland) that the place would be impressive, but I don’t think they were prepared for the beauty of Kalkan and the villa itself. We had a very fun evening sitting on the terrace sipping on red wine and playing Psychologist. The following day we hit up Patara Beach – the  longest stretch of white sand in Turkey. We chilled, drank Efes, swam in the sea and had ridiculous conversations. On returning home we took a dip in the pool and made some food. The gang were to head back to Ankara on this day, but the adventure continued for me and Maiju. We spent a chilled evening in the Merkez drinking Turkish Coffee and enjoyed the stillness of Kalkan. It was very weird to be there off season, as every other time I had been there was in the peak of summer. It was also nice to be able to speak a bit of Turkish to the people that are used to speaking English in Kalkan.…

The next day we took a bus to Fehtiye – grabbed some lunch and then boarded our 5 hour bus ride to Izmir. We had decided to Couchsurf in Izmir very last minute. Arriving in Izmir we had no idea where to go, we were told to get on some form of shuttle service by an angry fat man and we complied. After 20 minutes of said Shuttle we still had no idea where were, luckily we struck gold and managed to get off the bus in the heart of the student part of Izmir  - our host lived right in the Epicentre of Izmir student life. Izmir is very different as it is the most secular city of Turkey, aswell as Istanbul. It was strange to see mini skirts replacing headscarves (not literally, no one had a miniskirt on their head and a headscarf on their hips.) Our host was quiet, but nice, he took us for food and went out of his way to show us the sights on Izmir in the dark. We had a very funny bus ride back from the city centre in which the bus driver was livid as a student hadn’t paid his fee – just like the 3 am buses in Leeds) The bus driver actually stopped the bus and went to interrogate a few prime suspects, which caused much hilarity indeed.

We awoke early to continue our journey to Selcuk, to visit Ephesus or (Efes) in Turkish. If you don’t know what it is then educate yourself; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ephesus. After arranging our bus back to Ankara for the evening, we hopped on a Train to the small town of Selcuk in which Efes borders. After both falling asleep and nearly missing the stop be arrived safely. Efes itself was amazing, one of the most fantastic and amazing places I have ever visited;

 Dislocation on Tour

 Being the only unwanted females.

There was also a lot of cats we fed Borek too which made it 100000 times better.

Our 8 hour journey back to Ankara was hell, with a screaming baby and my feet swelling so much that my little toes looked like the sprouts you get on a potato when it is old.

It was a fantastic journey, filled with amazing people, amazing memories and such good fun. I think this was the best trip I had made in Turkey so far. (All with a dislocated knee – I am woman. I don’t let no knee stop me doing my thing – although credit goes to all those who carried my rucksack and helped me walk, I literally could not have done it without you.)

Bu Benim Annem

On the 28^th of March, my mother graced me with her presence in this great Nation. It was much needed, much appreciated and greatly enjoyed by both parties. A hug from your mother is one of the things in life that you do not appreciate until it is gone. And also, being able to speak in Nottingham English at an incredibly fast pace whilst being understood is one of the things in life you do not appreciate until it’s taken away.  U get me bra. Brap.

Istanbul

It began in Africa Istanbul. No matter how many times I visit Istanbul it still takes my breath away. It is my favourite city in the world. The sprawling mess of the skyline makes me smile, and reminds me of the relaxed Turkish approach to everything, including city planning. The fact that it stretches over two continents, with thousands of years of history is evident in every street you walk down.  The fact that a woman wearing a Burka can walk alongside a woman wearing a leather mini skirt, arm in arm reminds me of Turkeys amazing diversity.  If you haven’t been – go.

I was excited to show my Mum the country that I have been calling home for 8 months.  And Istanbul was a great place to start. As I was waiting for my luggage from my domestic flight (which was the 14^th flight I had taken this year – pretty good for someone scared of flying and apparently someone who cares about the environment. Sorry trees) I could see my Mum through the automatic doors which kept opening and closing in a teasing manner. The women next to me was laughing at both our manic waving and kiss blowing whenever the doors allowed us to see each other.  Finally, my suitcase arrived and I was free to go and give her the biggest hug ever!

Now, because I work at the Turkish Parliament we were allowed to stay at the Parliamentary residencies in Istanbul. This was amazing. It was located slap bang in the middle of Besiktas (the previously Royal neighbourhood – that is 5 minutes walk from Taksim Square) I felt pretty good flashing my Parliamentary ID whilst walking in to the place. The only problem was the lack of English Spoken, and of course the real problem here is my embarrassingly shocking lack of Turkish, but we’ll ignore that. This created some interesting experiences. Our room was very hot (I don’t think I could keep count the amount of times Mother Bear told me she was “so hot”… Think she was hot though?) and so I forced Mum to get them to sort it out. She used google translate as a medium of translation… and at one point the man in reception typed in “Can I invite a friend to the situation?” Which obviously, is hilarious. And so a friend was invited to the situation, and he came and fiddled with our pipes (oioi) At one point I heard him say (in Turkish) “The English and all their fucking problems.” No way to speak to a member of the TBMM but, I will let it slide as I show compassion for the mere commoners I represent…  

However, I now have Turkish Parliament slippers, shampoo, soap, cottonbuds and a selection of teas. Thanks Attaturk.

It was also fun helping Dr. Stan adapt to Istanbul traffic and Turkish street crossing skills. This has come as second nature to me now, and sometimes I surprise myself with my courage. She spent a lot of the time clung to my arm as we weaved through the crowds. It is odd how you adapt to little things and take things for granted, like the sound of the call to Prayer. When I first moved to this country the call the prayer would always stop me in my tracks, and remind me that I wasn’t at home. Now I sometimes don’t even notice it.  It was so nice to be able to be reminded of these little things that I now take for granted. For example, the Smit stands that are dotted on every street, and the freshly squeezed orange juice sold at all the Kiosks (of BOOOFS.. Bufe.. as Mum kept calling them.) and the Midye (Cold Mussels, stuffed with rice and herbs and sold on every street, especially at night time.)

We visited the Bastille Cistern,  Topaki Palace, The Aya Sofia, The Blue Mosque and all the other standard tourist stuff. If you don’t know what they are educate yourself and then come back to me.  It was nice to visit Sultanahmet without having your 31 one year old boyfriend telling you what he would do if he was playing Assassins Creed.  We visited the Grand Bazar, which was accompanied by a lot of “Are you sisters” “Are you angels?” “Lady, I am here” and also involved me haggling a bag down from 375 Lira to 120 (in Turkish. Tabii ki) and then not buying it. Apparently this proves that I am fully culturally integrated.  The weather was beautiful during our visit, which meant we were lucky enough to enjoy the sun in some of Istanbul’s parks. We found the sweetest çay bahçesi (tea garden) snuggled in the corner of a park next to Sultanahment. We ordered a pot and sat and watched the ferries crossing from continent to continent. It would have been perfect if it wasn’t for some dickhead group of Australian women talking about how having kids “was on their to do list” and other pretentious and ridiculous comments. “You know.. I just couldn’t cope if my baby wasn’t perfect.” Have a word with yourself woman. I hate you.

We also visited the New Mosque, and of course had Balik-Ekmek (fish sandwiches) from Eminou. We climbed the Galata tower and saw about 11 mosques all performing Adhan simultaneously wish was a pretty incredible experience.  This was followed by seeing an Italian that looked exactly like my Dad, and then seeing a Bride just mincing the streets in bright red sunglasses. Equally as incredible I am sure you will agree.  On the next day, we minced to Ortakoy to enjoy Kumpir near the Bosphorus bridge. Kumpir is Turkish jacket potato, stuffed with all sorts from tapenade, to sweetcorn to ketchup. It is wicked. The only thing is they do not eat the skin and always take it from me when I try and eat the skin. Ortakoy is a neighbourhood near Besiktas which is frequented by locals, it is famous due to the fact you have the contrast of the Ortakoy Mosque in front of the modern bridge. However, the Mosque was under renovation of course. We then took the ferry over to Asia, and walked the streets of Kadikoy. Now, as Ankara is significantly less Westernised than Istanbul is – the only thing I was craving was to eat anything BUT Turkish food. Mother had other ideas but humoured me with a plate of chips and an Efes.

Istanbul treated us incredibly well, and we drank enough cay to last us for the whole trip. However, it had only just begun………

DRAMATIC PAUSE.

We took a flight back to Ankara which involved a Taxi driver that looked like Tarkan and me realizing that I am still scared of flying. Mother Bear came to my flat, which, although she did a good job hiding it, she was not impressed with. It was nice to show her where I live though, and to make her more part of my reality here. We went to my local Pide joint for dinner, where I take all my honoured guests when I’m feeling lazy. I explained to my friends (the waiters) that my mother was visiting me in Turkey, and they were very happy to hear it. MB tried Iskander for the first time or…. Turkish…. Yoghurt…. Kebab and loved it. She amused the waiters when she screamed “DROGBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAAAAA” at the top of her lungs whilst doing a funny little dance when Didier came on the screen. Funny because she isn’t particularly a fan of Galatasary or of Drogba. She spent the night in my amazingly comfy and luxurious bed (feels like sleeping on a sack of potatoes) and then we were off again!

Kappodokya

The following morning, we were off on our second leg of the grand tour. After a very early start, we arrived at ASTI. (Ankara’s main bus terminal – the size of which exemplifies how many people want to get away from Ankara at all times) Just to remind you, hardly anybody speaks English in Ankara, let alone ASTI and so it is always fun. With blearly eyes I tried to find out where the hell we could get tickets from. After a lot of too’ing and fro’ing and being stared at by men with moustaches for being the token white girl, I figured out which platform to go too. Sorry sorry, WE figured out which platform to go too. (a joke specifically for Postman Tim/Papa Stannard)

Aboard the bus MB was very impressed with the Turkish way of coach travel. Again, this is something I had grown accustomed too. Every coach has a boy/man/once I saw a woman that comes round and serves tea, and cake, and water and juice and sandwiches and hand wipes and perfumes etc during the journey. MB was very impressed with his “magic box” which he kept producing bottles of drink from. I told her I thought the magic box would be better used as a toilet, but she was sold by the mere idea of the magic box.

After 5 hours on the coach we finally made it to Nevisehir, the city of Cappadoccia. Things were already starting to get a little dusty and look a little bit like Starwars so I knew we were in the right place. After boarding a very full Dolmus we were on our way to Goreme – the main hub of Cappodocia. As we drove through the amazing landscape it was so lovely to see the excitement spread of Dr.Lu’s face – “it’s amazing” she kept saying but I was too busy thinking about how much my shoulder hurt. It really hurt. We were dropping off in Goreme, and quickly collected by the Hotels porter – Emre. Emre was very impressed that I lived in Turkey, although he kept reminding me how bad my Turkish was. Our hotel was really lovely, with a chic Ottoman design and rooms that were built to resemble the caves that Cappodocia was famous for. They also had really cute bars of soap which we stole loads of.

TOP CAPPADOCCIA MOMENTS

1)      The time we went to the Open Air Museum in Goreme, I smacked my head on a huge rock and an old Italian man laughed for about 7 hours at my expense.

2)      Meeting an old man when we got lost in Pigeon Valley, who led us back to the right track and then wouldn’t let us go until we gave him “jigerettes” that we did not have.

3)      HASAN! The best thing to ever happen. Hiking through one of the valleys we bumped into Hassan, and his tea garden. Surprisingly, Hasan spoke perfect English. He told us he lives in the valley in the summer to get away from his 4 wives who are constantly arguing. He was very impressed I lived in Turkey. He also made us play a turkey related quiz – in which we received Turtles made of stones for our prizes, key rings and postcards. I won a bonus prize for guessing his age was 25.

4)      Walking in Love Valley, where the rocks looked like huge erections. Meeting a village woman who made us some lovely tea, and then bumping into a lonesome French woman who said  “it was vairrr erroteeeek ‘round here non?”

5)      Being told we walk like South Africans? What does that even mean?

6)      Having the best meal and the best home made wine imaginable.

7)      Mum being referred to as “Crazy Anne” by the Hotel staff as  she was drunk and insisted on placing loads of bets on the football

8)      Being invited to watch the Galatasary match with the waiters of the restaurant we ate in.

9)      Watching the horse who was doing gross tourist rides, be followed by her tiny foal, and then the foal being followed by a stray dog. Literally the best thing I’ve ever seen.

Cappadocia treated us very well, and created some memories that will never be forgotten.

Back to Ankara.

We were to spend the last few days in Ankara, being hosted by my lovely Turkish Family. This was a bit of a strange but amazing experience for me, having my surrogate family meet my real one. We exchanged presents from England, had lots of imported Merlot and had lovely chats. We visited the Parliament (my office) the Hamam (of which I am not a regular, and have my own personal massuse who I think has the hots for me) and the very limited sites and sounds of Ankara.

Having my mother coming to visit me was a lovely experience. It was so nice for her to see what my reality has been for 8 months, meet my closest friends and experience a limited snippet of Turkish life. It was awful to say goodbye, and the departure was very tearful (and even more upsetting for me as I had sat on a water bottle and my arse was really wet)