Back on the coach I was glad we’d packed a picnic, it was almost one and I hadn’t eaten and had only had one coffee and a small orange juice to drink. A lot of people’s thoughts had turned to food and packages were coming out all over the coach. The goat’s cheese and meat sandwiches I’d made with buffalo tomatoes and huge chunks of cool cucumber were gorgeous and the waiter back at the hotel had been so right tissue paper isn’t good for a sammige.
Having eaten and had a bottle of fruit juice I was well up for the next part of the trip. We only had to drive for half an hour this time before alighting into the hottest part of the day, but it didn’t matter because Eren told us that where we were going the sun don’t shine.
We were at the Manavgat waterfalls. These falls are very famous and I don’t have to try too hard to describe their beauty because everybody will have seen them. They were the location for the famous Timotei shampoo advert where the woman washes her hair in the beautiful waterfall. Imagine the splendour of that place but not confined to that one lagoon and falls snap shot but spread over a vast area of national park. It was one of the most beautiful and breathtaking places that I’ve ever seen. The vegetation was lush and emerald green, it prevented the sun burning through and it was so wonderfully cool after the blazing heat at Perga.
We unwittingly hired a guide. This guide was uncommon for two reasons one of them was that she was female. We’d been warned off taking on guides, they tend to rob you blind and lead you into every ‘cousins’ shop in Turkey. This lady was cheap, hard working and I didn’t mind having her along with us a bit.
As the coach pulled up I noticed a stray dog out of the window. I rooted in the bag for a sausage roll and half a sandwich. I made a fuss of this dog and fed her the sandwich which she was grateful for. She’d just had pups and her teats were scraping on the ground but he seemed healthy enough and happy with her lot in life. After eating, she looked up at me, gave a single bark and trotted off.
We got our tickets from Eren and went through the turnstiles. Eren directed us to the map, told us our meeting time and thankfully left us to our own devices at the falls. I was a bit dubious about the sightseeing, to get behind the falls you had to descend a hundred and thirty eight steep steps hewn from the mountain. My leg was fine on the flat now but gave me gyp if I had to bend it unnaturally. Getting down the steps wouldn’t be so bad but coming back up them was going to be a bugger ... but in for a penny. I figured that if they had to stretcher lift me out from the bottom of the cliff it would make for an interesting diary read, especially if the stretcher bearer was none other than my favourite security guard moonlighting in his spare time.
I was still smiling at this thought when I saw the dog again, she was walking along our party and sniffing each person in turn. When she got to me she put her nose in my hand, gave her one bark and trotted off. She stopped a few feet ahead turned around and waited for us to catch up.
I swear, for three bites of a sandwich I had hired that dog’s services for the duration of the excursion. She stayed with us and checked on our progress and welfare the whole time. At first Russ said that I was being fanciful, but with what happened at the end even he had to agree that I was right. That dog saw it as her employment to guide people who fed her around those falls. She had puppies to feed and she took her work very seriously. With her reputation to maintain she wouldn’t dream of taking her wage and then doing a runner before her job was done. I had to call her something, so I named her Mishka.
The falls were amazing, just to get out of the heat for half an hour was fantastic and the spray coming of the wall of water was so refreshing. We were able to get right behind the falls and we got some beautiful photos. We saw natter jack toads and bullfrogs and the trout and cat fish in the water were huge and came to the surface to be hand fed all kinds of rubbish by the tourists. Mishka chose not to come behind the falls and waited patiently for us to emerge at the other side. She could have left us then but she didn’t.
Coming back up the other side was no easy climb but we stopped often to admire the view and take more photos. We found a picnic bench at about half way and stopped there for a breather and a cig to jump start the old lungs. Mishka sat patiently beside us and let us stroke her, even Russ had taken to her. She was dirty and her coat was full of dust but she was such a lady.
Breaking through the canopy of trees was sudden; all at once we were at the top and back in the burning sunlight at the picnic area. It was like being re-born. I was hot and sticky and dying for a drink, but my leg had held out and I felt great.
Mishka trotted out a few feet ahead of us; she turned around, barked once and loped off at greater speed. I called her back because I’d enjoyed her company and wanted to spend some more time with her. She completely ignored me; her work with us was done. We watched her run back down to the bus park and soon she was plying her trade on a new group of tourists. Russ laughed at me because I watched her putting her nose into a man’s hand and I actually felt jealous. I worried that she’d been away from her puppies for too long, but I’m sure that she knows her working hours and keeps her house in order. Was this really a self employed guide in dog form taking her wage in scraps? Well if two hundred wasps can live inside somebody’s head ...why not?
We were told not to get comfy on the coach because we’d be stopping for lunch in quarter of an hour; a huge cheer went up from the crowd. It was almost three o’clock and the natives were restless. I was glad of the pack up we’d had earlier and wasn’t bothered about lunch but I was still looking forward to it.
The restaurant that copped for the coaches was raking it in. It had the concession on lunching all the coach trips that passed through and did tremendous trade. It was like being back at school and a very barren experience but I thoroughly enjoyed it. At the hotel we’d become accustomed to luxury, elegance and fine dining. This was back to basics school dinner special. When we’d been blagged with a riverside restaurant lunch, I expected a romantic table for two, candles and wine with penguin waiters and white napkins.
What we got was a concrete courtyard from which you could just about see the river. Fifty wooden trestles running from one end of the yard to the other were set with rows and rows of knife and forks and we sat on hard, backless benches.
The food was basic Turkish fare. We’d been told that Turkish kebabs bore no resemblance to the dried out monstrosities over here but we hadn’t had the chance to try one yet. There were three choices on the menu, kebab, trout or chicken. Russ and I both had the kebab. We queued at a long table to help ourselves to starters of hot soups, breads and salads. The main was served with rice, salad and noodles. I enjoyed the regimentation of it. It gave us a chance to chat to other people on the trip and I finally solved a problem that had been seriously bugging me.
The kebabs when they came were only small, much to Russ’ disgust. He said that he could have eaten five of them. The one, with a small piece of fresh bread and a bit of rice was perfect for me. I can well understand why Russ wanted more of the kebab. It was fresh seasoned steak; they only use the best of the beef. It is cooked on a spit and used in the same serving. A true Turk restauranteur would never leave the meat on the spit to cook over and over. As you bit into it your mouth filled with the seasoned juices and the taste and texture was out of this world. The rumours were true, they were nothing like a British kebab no matter how Turkish the chef. The rice under a cucumber and yogurt dip complimented it perfectly.
We got talking to a Geordie man next to me who had come for the golf. I’d been saying since we first arrived at the resort that it was impossible for the complex to run at a profit. The food and drink bill alone must run into hundreds of thousands of pounds a day. Fresh flowers were brought in daily; the lawns ran on sprinklers all night, the staff was immense. How did they do it when they are selling holidays for three hundred pounds a week?
The clue was there all along, it’s in the word...Golf.
The Letoonia boasts five full golf courses and several driving ranges, a single round of golf with your own gear begins at sixty six pounds a person. The courses are full all day every day. Then when they run a big tournament the entry fees are sky high charging several thousand pounds just to enter. That would explain it then. I’d like to say a huge thank you to my favourite sport ... golf!
After lunch we were back on the coach and on the way to our final destination. We were going to the ancient Roman Coliseum at Aspendos. It didn’t take long to get there, but after my lunch I’d had enough. I’d had a gut load of old stones that morning and didn’t fancy another lecture from Eren regardless of how good he is. I wanted a shower and a siesta. I was willing the coach to drive on and had to suppress a groan when we got there.
I was so wrong, this place was amazing. It is the best preserved working amphitheatre from the ancient Romans in the world. Nothing in Italy can hold a candle to it and it is still being used to perform the great operas. The acoustics are perfect and it creates the best natural sound in the world. It had one hundred and twelve tiers. More bloody steps!
I had absolutely no intention of climbing to the top and wanted to just sit somewhere and soak it all in. But something about the place got to me. This was a once in a lifetime experience and I had to know what it felt like to peer down onto the stage from the very top.
As I was about to begin my trek, a cacophony of noise put the acoustics to the test as hundreds of primary school kids ran swarming into the bowl. The noise was deafening. Eren who had just begun his speech as we all sat on the front row seats threw his hands up into the air and gave up any hope of competing with that lot. The kids had saved the day. I’d been happy to learn in the morning but now I just wanted to experience. Jane `the Mountain goat` Doe lifted her skirt high and began the great assent of the North face. Soon kids were flying past me in all directions. The first half of the climb was okay, but on the second half a lot of the seats which doubled as steps had become quite eroded over the centuries. I’m not scared of heights but it did get quite scary, one wrong step....
The feeling at the top was unbelievable. I sat in one of the thrones built for royalty and looked down on the place and the people. I could hear a couple whispering in the far corner of the bowl and a kid asking one of the centurions if he could try on his helmet carried clearly right up to me hundreds of feet away. I looked down at the gates where the lions would be released to the gladiators and it honestly felt like being transported back in time. It was a very odd feeling being up there with the sky and the gods. Kids kept coming up to try and talk to me. Anything English fascinates them and although they spoke no English and me no Turk, they were charming. What well behaved, polite kids they were. I was transfixed by their clothes. They were straight out of seventies Britain. Did those kids rely on aid packages from Britain to survive? But these clothes were so out of fashion that they hadn’t been sent out recently. Turkey produces some of the finest textiles in the world, why are the kids walking around in seventies rags? They honestly looked just like me thirty eight years ago. They wore knitted tights in gaudy colours in the blistering heat. They had on print skirts and polyester shirts with stiletto collars. The boys wore elasticated trousers and wide collars. Where the hell had these old clothes come from? It bothered me. If it hadn’t been for the rest of the people from our trip, I’d have wondered what time it really was. Which point of history was I actually sitting in at that moment?
I watched the kids with my heart in my mouth. At one point I looked round to see if I could see their teachers but they were huddled in a group down in the bowl. These children aged between seven and eleven were running wild on the steps. I tracked one little lad’s progress from top to bottom and he did it in under a minute. They were playing tig and having a great time chasing each other about. Some of those steps were so corroded that they only had a tiny ledge to put their feet on. They were hundreds of feet up and one wrong foot and they’d roll down to either the half way intersection or the bottom if they were over half way down. They terrified me. I jumped up and screamed at one lad who tore past me with his shoe lace undone. Those kids were fearless.
I came down at a more sedate pace and I must admit I found it a little bit hairy in places. I was glad to get to the middle knowing that the condition of the stones from then on was better preserved and the descent easier. Far from being bored by another ‘load of old stones’ it had been fascinating, and to nick one from the Americans, but use it in its true context, it was ‘awesome’.
We came out to the usual small market that seems to have the ability to appear in minutes at the first sight of a coach. Two men were giving camel rides. I’d have liked one but the animals looked peaceful and would have enough to do when all those hoards of kids stomped all over them. I’ve seen a lot of ride camels in various places and they always look neglected and sad. This lad had three working camels and a little baby along with its mother. I told him that his camels were beautiful and tried to convey that they looked well cared for. I gave him a couple of pounds ‘for the camels’ and he kept telling me that I hadn’t given him enough for a ride. I couldn’t get through to him that I didn’t want the ride and left him to get on the coach very confused. He ran after me with the little one trotting behind. He said the baby’s name Kabillah or something and said, “She say thank you.” The traders in these countries can get on my nerves with their pushy sales techniques but everybody is so polite and respectful. We as a nation should sit up and take notice.
We had been to three places, Perga ancient city, the Timotei falls at Manavgat, lunch included, all travel and the amphitheatre at Aspendos. The trip had cost us thirty pounds apiece. It had been a brilliant day out.
