Veni, Vedi, Vici. Julius Caesar wrote these words to the Roman Senate not far from here fifty years before the birth of Christ. Three hundred years before that, Alexander the Great cut a path of destruction along the southern coast of Turkey then headed north to slice open the Gordian knot with his sword before conquering the rest of the known world. In addition to being lovely, friendly and warm, Turkey is an absolute gold mine for history junkies.
We are staying in the tiny seaside village of Cirali an hour and a half drive southwest from Antalya along the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. The grounds of the hotel where we are spending five nights are covered with orange and lemon trees. Despite the fact that winter is just ending here, the fruit is ripe, juicy and sweet. I love grabbing a plump orange from a branch as I walk by. The minute it pops from the stem the smell of misty citrus fills the air, momentarily blocking out the fresh flowers which are starting to explode into bloom.
It's a three minute walk through the village to the quant beach. If you turn right, a ten minute walk brings you to the ruins of the ancient settlement of Olympos where the impressive remnants of its Lycean, Greek, Roman and early Christian inhabitants lie scattered about for visitors to casually pick through. Turn left and you'll reach the Chimaera, where small flames have been flickering from rock crevices on the side of the mountain for at least 2,500 years, giving birth to the legend of a fire breathing beast of the same name. Go straight and you'll head right into the Med, with its own fifty shades of exotic blue.
Life in Cirali is exactly like we hoped it would be after a thirty hour trip up the coast of Africa. We've been getting up at a decent hour and managing a short run before the sun gets too hot. By then the coffee is on at the outdoor breakfast area and our hosts are whipping up a simple breakfast consisting of fresh bread with homemade jams, tiny ripe tomatoes, olives, cucumber, cheese, eggs and juice right from the orange or lemon. Heavenly.
On our first day here we lazed on the beach with Dave and Jen while the kids went their separate ways to soak up the long lost company of their own kind. After a quick dip in the chilly Med, a waiter from one of the seaside cafes which are just opening for the tourist season walked down across the sand and took some drink orders. Before we knew it we'd chitty chatted the day away and the sun was starting to come down from its high place in the sky. Having forgotten about lunch, we grabbed a table at the cafe and enjoyed an early supper consisting mostly of meze - appetizer-sized dishes of chicken, lamb, fish and salads soaked in olive oil, fresh lemon and herbs. Throw in a bottle or two of the excellent Turkish beer and there's a slice of heaven to be had. All of us, kids included, stayed up until well past midnight catching up on each others travels, playing cards and laughing.
The days since have largely been the same. One day we did a seven hour hike along the Lycian Way - a popular trail that winds for 500 miles along the Turkish coastline. It was tougher than we thought it would be but the coastal Mediterranean scenery was lovely. The kids ran the last kilometre, motivated largely by the promise of an ice cream if they made it to the end. Other than that it's been a relaxing mix of food, wine, raki, full contact euchre, backgammon and easy conversation with good friends from home. I think this is how life on the Med was meant to be lived.
Tomorrow we all catch flights to Cappadocia where we hope to take a balloon ride over the fairy tale landscape, sleep in a cave hotel and visit some early Christian ruins. From there? We have no idea yet. Dave and Jen are flying to Rome and we are going to keep a close eye on how things play out in Istanbul following the March 30 elections. I like the idea of not quite knowing where we'll be in a week. We have to somehow make our way to Split, Croatia by May 9. In the meantime, we hope to take the kids rock climbing this afternoon and find somewhere in the village to end our last night in Antalya with a Hammam (Turkish bath) and Narghile (shisha).
The days of conquering southern Turkey are largely over. It sure was good to veni and vidi, though!