Mosques, Monuments, The Metro and a farewell shot of Raki - Our 72 hours in Istanbul

We had arrived in the world’s 8th most densely populated megacity after having Olympos all to ourselves. It was a transition that took a little getting used to. We acclimatised by walking, eating and more walking. We memorised monuments, buildings and landmarks along the way to build a map in our heads.

Our rooms in Old Sultanahmet were divine, a welcome reward after our long drive and strenuous orientation. Ottoman by design they were fit for a king, or a sultan as it were. It was hard to not feel like royalty opening up the windows to the scenes beyond.

I’d like to say that I fell in love with Istanbul, but she was a city – it would take some time to get to know her well enough. We were armed with only our 72 hours, and a hopeful attitude. We certainly gave it our best, seeking out all of her finest attributes: her Blue Mosque; her Hagia Sophia; her Topkapi Palace; her street stalls, her nightlife; her Galata Bridge and Fish Markets; her Grand Bazaar; her Borsphorus Sea; her Egyptian Obelisk and Serpentine Column; her one million cats and her cavernous Basilica Cistern. Before our awe could develop into appreciation it was time for us to leave. And even though we had spent less time in our other destinations we remember them more fondly than our torrid affair with Istanbul. Despite her furious beauty and her innumerable attractions, she exhausted us, as did the constant barrage of friendly vendors trying to draw us into their shops. This was more of a love and hate infatuation.

On our last night, right after our tour through the haunting beauty of the underground cistern, Jim and I enjoyed a glass of raki, a popular turkish spirit, on a rooftop cafe and counted how many times the metro passed versus the yellow taxi cabs. Josh noticed the man across the street with a platter of live doves, apparently selling photo opportunities to passing tourists. Finishing our drink, we walked on to our dinner reservation at Sarnic – a candlelit medieval themed restaurant in a converted cistern.

Josh had waited a very long time for his PKU pasta to be included in a meal, and here it finally was (albeit late after the waiter forgot to prepare it with the rest of our meals.) After a week of salads, vegetable casseroles and fruit - Josh relished the bowl of pasta so much he ate it almost before it hit the table. Once it hit his stomach he was spent.

On the day of our flight we were amazed at how much we had managed to cram into our time and were ready for our next adventure – coming home. We wished Jim all the best for his travels, loaded our packs into a taxi and watched Istanbul fly past us as we left her behind.

I was so proud of how Josh lasted the distance – all the flights, the buses, the different flavors and types of food, the walking, the carrying heavy bags, the getting lost, the haggling – he did it all with a smile and a hop in his step. If ever he should decide to explore new places in the future, he can do it knowing that PKU need not hold him back. Everybody has perceived obstacles and everybody can choose to overcome them. My obstacle was how I would EVER finance a trip like this - and my choice was to try by applying for a travel grant through ASIEM.

Achieving something despite the odds can be extremely satisfying and I hope Josh has had a taste of this during our journey through Turkey. Hopefully these experiences will, one day, mean he knows for himself that he can make unbelievable things happen if he chooses to reach for them.

Steve Irwin, A Lost Boy, Ancient Ephesus and Real Turkish Coffee - Our 26 hours in Selcuk

We arrived in Selcuk right on dinnertime, and having checked into our perfectly located pension, we headed off for the reputed Ejder Restaurant. We didn’t need to go far. Consisting of 3 tables crammed between a bar where Mehmet cooked the meat and a kitchenette where his wife prepared the (delectable) sides, the dinner felt more like a visit to your Grandparents place. Mehmet made easy conversation while the tv played funny video clips which would result in bouts of laughter (mostly the other guests laughing at Josh’s reactions to the slap-happy clips!) When we got to talking about where we lived, Mehmet dragged out a ledger from a giant stack, instinctively opening it to the page where another Australian had once been. “Do you know Steve Irwin?” he asks with a cheeky smile. “Um...yes,” we play along “we know of him.” Sure enough there were messages and business cards stuck in the book from both Steve and Terri.

After finishing the sword that was the chicken kebab, and a plethora of vegetarian mezzes and casseroles (didnt know which one to order for Josh so we just shared the lot,) we stumbled back out into the wet night and decided to walk the meal off. Again, we didn’t get very far! Standing beneath the aqueduct all lit up – we were under its spell.

What impressed me most was how this town appeared to take ownership of its history, without letting it define it. Modern sculptures stood proudly beside byzantine aqueducts, in a main street where the touristy restaurant strip actually felt like it belonged to a community of people. People here looked relaxed and proud, as if well aware that their ancestors had passed down the gift of history to them, but still busy creating their own gifts for future generations.

We decided against our scheduled visit to Pammukale, and instead added those precious hours to our stay in Selcuk and Istanbul. The bus trips were starting to wear us down and travelling all the way inland only to have to return again did not feel as appealing as spending more time here. Our new plan was to catch the night bus to Istanbul after a full day exploring Selcuk and Ephesus.

We started our morning at the Basilica of St John, where Josh unknowingly merged with a tour group and I spent 8 of the worst minutes of my life searching for him. Having settled down and agreed on some new rules about the number of allowable centimeters he was to be from me at all times, we wandered around, declined the opportunity to buy some authentic ancient (not) coins from a gentleman claiming to be a ‘site manager,’ and quietly observed the final resting place of St John the Evangelist.

Next on our self-guided tour was Ephesus Museum, which houses most of the art discovered in the excavations of Ephesus since 1964. Dodging tour groups, we browsed the many statues, coins, artifacts, and jewelry which werethe missing pieces in the vast archeological jigsaw puzzle we would later walk through at Ephesus itself.

After another visit to Mehmet for lunch, who went out and bought an umbrella on our behalf, we freshened up in our room, arranged a ride out to the excavation site, popped down to a cafe for a game of backgammon (we made the rules up after realiasing none of us knew how to play) and enjoyed our first real turkish coffee.

With our batteries recharged, and despite the lashings of rain that had our driver trying to convince us to postpone our trip to the muddy site, we pressed ahead for Ephesus.

Paying our entrance fee we discovered we were not the only ones crazy enough to slop through the ruins. Tour group after tour group arrived in their buses, each with their own guide spouting facts and figures in languages that were occasionally English. We positioned ourselves outside of earshot (and camera shot), and set forth to take in this piece of history.

With the sunshine now on our backs (again, beautiful timing) we splashed through puddles, climbed up amphitheatres, slipped around on marble, gazed in wonder, posed for photos and attempted to decipher ancient inscriptions until we were finally upon the steps of the Ephesus Library – or what remains of it today. Built in 135 A.D by Julius Aquilla, and named the’ Library of Celsus,’ its facade is an impressive memorial to Julius’ father Celsus, Polemaeanus of Sardis.

After an hour and a half we reached the other end of the site, satisfied at having had our fill of ancient ruins (which Josh had called ‘asian ruins’ until we were finally able to convince him otherwise.) On our walk over to the taxi stand we spotted a shop that made our day - ‘Genuine Fake Watches.’ Hilarious!

Back at the hotel, with our bus tickets sorted and a shower under our belt, we were ready for a good meal. Since our lonelyplanet guide had proven spot on last time, we opted for a meal at the no.2 recommendation. We were not disappointed.

At 9pm we waved off our ever-so-helpful hosts (who had also found a great place to stay for our unplanned extra night in Istanbul) and made our way to the otogar ready for our last big bus trip. This one would get us there at 7am the following day, 10 hours later... 10 hours on a bus with a 7 year old and his constant (and urgent) need to pee. Oh, did I mention the bus had no toilet?

As with every situation that worried me, Josh surprised me with his unexpected ease. When he finally did desperately, urgently, “right now mum!” need to pee, he held on until I had politely requested that the driver make an unscheduled pit stop (something they REALLY don’t like to do). After watering the flowers on the side of the road we were back on our way with hardly anybody noticing. That is, of course, except Josh, who, now free from pain, was asleep in my lap with a smile on his face.

Marinas, Mandarins, Ancient Tombs and Juicy Tomatoes - Our 24 hours in Fethiye

During one of the stops on the way to Fethiye, I hopped off our bus and sprinted into a store. I did not know how long the bus would be stopped for and we had already seen a passenger and her 2 young children left behind and have to jog two blocks to catch up to the bus and her groceries (left on the bus!) With a big smile I asked the store keeper for 2 tomatoes. It had been a while since Josh had eaten anything and we were unsure of when the next opportunity might arise. After a minute of attempting to convince me that a chicken kebap would be much tastier, the storekeeper realised that I was there for one thing and he returned from the back of the shop with two of the biggest, reddest tomatoes I had ever seen. I thanked the man, paid him and ran like a crazy woman back to the bus, high on the success of my acquisition. Josh was only mildly enthused by the prospect of this basic lunch but when he finally bit into the juicy fruit, he couldn’t hide his approval.

On the hunt for our first meal (lunch and dinner combined) in Fethiye we walked down a mandarin lined walkway with the insanely picturesque marina on our right. When we could finally bear to tear our eyes away from the view we suddenly found ourselves at the foot of an ancient amphitheater sitting quietly amid the busy streetscape. Yes, ancient ruins on the main street!

We bought fresh fish from the markets that night and walked into the restaurant opposite where they cooked it for us and garnished it with salad and bread at a very reasonable cost. Here Joshua had his first Turkish vegetable casserole. It was rich and flavorsome and Josh enjoyed eating it while watching kittens climb trees and jump from awning to awning above us.

We were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time for the Wednesday markets in Fethiye. Josh looked right at home naming all the different fruits and vegetables, stopping to pick up some carrots, sunglasses and the biggest apple he could find. On the way home we hiked up to for a better view of ancient Telmessos - a series of Lycian tombs carved into the rock face above the town.

After a full day it was time to hop back on a bus and make the trip to Selcuk. Our host was kind enough to recommend a nice place to stay - rendering my weeks of research redundant. By this point we had learnt that word of mouth referral was far more reliable than information found on the web.

With a mandarin in our pocket, and images of the marina, markets and tombs fresh in our minds, we boarded the bus for the 4.5 hour journey into Selcuk.

Stone, Rain, Flames and Apple Tea by the Sea - Our 20 hours in Olympos

We arrived at the otogar (bus stop) a short and scenic one and a half hour ride south from Antalya still amused by the irony of our driver being pulled over by a policeman right after passing a child riding on the back of his father’s truck (apparently ensuring nothing precious fell off!) The mountains we were travelling through had stopped moving and were now all around us as we perched on a small cliff looking down over the valley of Olympos. The home/store/bus station, while quaint, was well stocked and offered homemade traditional gozleme. The wife prepared the stuffed pancakes over the fireplace, while the daughter served at the counter and the husband delivered trays of cay (tea) to the chatty regulars. Later we would find out the husband was also our transfer driver, a fish pick-up and delivery service and a frequent horn tooter (a way of warning oncoming cars and pedestrians?) on the winding trip down into the valley.

During our time at the bus stop, which was almost as long as the trip from Antalya, Josh made a few friends. A happy chicken plucked about his feet just long enough for him to steal a quick pat, then two cats thought the seat Josh was sitting on looked comfortable. They wound up either side of him. It wasn’t long before one realised that Joshua’s lap looked more cushy and curled up on his chest ready for a good pat. Josh was right in his element! The store-owners’ daughter spied Josh and his animal entourage and spent some time hanging out of a window to secure a good view. The kids took turns smiling at each other until the girl’s father decided it might be time to take us down. Reluctantly Josh gave up his throne in the animal kingdom and grabbed our heaviest bag to load into the dolmus, demonstrating strength to match his compassion. His friend appeared suitably impressed. After a quick wave goodbye we were on our way.

Crossing a riverbed (the main access road) in the bouncy dolmus was a little surreal, as was our first glimpse of a treehouse, charrred and abandoned. Olympos became more and more mysterious the deeper we ventured into it on foot. Running along the pension-lined track, which was more puddle than track (and therefore expertly negotiated by Joshua the nimble,) was a gushing river backed by an amazing cliff face. Despite a number of adventurous rock-climbers hanging off its face its dominance was clear. This was a place owned by nature, not man.

Further along the track we came across our first ancient ruins, almost by accident. Small trails, barely visable through the rain-mist, lead us to more and more. With every turn we found new remnants of a time long gone. And due to our rainy, off-season timing, the place was all ours. Our attempts to visualise the structures limited only our own imaginations. And oh, how the rain brought the place to life!

Emerging from the forest we were suddenly in a different place. Before us - the expanse of the Mediterranean, beside us - brown water blending into the blue sea, bearing down on us - the pointy escarpment and below us - a crunching pebble beach. We couldn’t tell if the mist was from the sky or the waves. And we didn’t care...this place was simply inspired.

Plodding down the beach we came across a pack of dogs playfully mauling one another next to a sign stuck in the sand that said “Restaurant.” Upon closer inspection this place could only be described as heaven. It is most befitting that our first experience of apple tea should take place here. Cold hands wrapped around a hot sweet drink and the freshest salad to be found in Turkey. I smoothed down my salty wet hair and watched the dogs continue their game while Josh swung in the hammock.

Having the place to yourself had its benefits and its drawbacks. Due to low interest we were told that there would be no group visiting the chimera that night. But we persevered and asked our host to see what he could do for us. He must have called a few other pensions and found two other interested people because within 20 minutes of our request, we were on the bus flying around bends and twists until we reached the foot of the track.

“900metres up that way,” the driver pointed “I’ll meet you back here in about an hour.”

On our approach to the top, the eternal flames of the chimera could be seen flickering, gases fizzing and bubbling. They looked like campfires, some blazing, some just a few small blue flames sprouting from a crack in the surface. Downwind you could smell the gas and it occurred to me that without the incentive to leave for fear of gas-poisoning, one could stay up here forever. You knew you were witnessing something very special, and free from tourist-trappings most other places suffered from, this experience was not watered down. We climbed a mountain, saw an amazing natural wonder and were free to digest it and interpret it at our own risk and in our own time.

Five of us made our way up, and down, the mountain in the dark that night. None of us knowing what to expect. Despite the feeling of invincibility that came with being around such a timeless place, it was fair to say we were pleasantly surprised when all five of us made it back down in one piece!

What was i thinking?

So I have discovered that it may have been unreasonable of me to travel 900kms between four amazing places over seven days, see and do everything humanly possible, and still expect to have time to recount each day in a blog!

But I'm not stressing it... I will take my time (now that I have some) in the comfort of my own home and routine, to share the wonderful week we had traversing Turkey.

I hope you find our stories as interesting as we found each place.

Enjoy!

Espku conference


Friday:
We have just woken up to the song of birds mixing it up to the rhythmic thud of tennis balls hitting the court. A tennis convention? The resort here in Belek, Antalya is very big and there are many guests from all over, each sporting a plastic band on their wrist and a lost look on their face. We have worked out that the blue bracelets are worn by people attending the ESPKU conference which makes things a little easier, and a knowing smile can be exchanged freely. There are no maps or guides, you simply walk until you find what you are looking for, something that took me a while to adjust to. I like maps. Still, I can understand that sometimes it is more fun to discover things than to navigate your way to them.

Not long after checking in, a German pku family (living in Russia) recognized
us from a few emails exchanged between josh and their daughter Riccarda. It was so nice to be so warmly greeted, the commonality of our experiences with PKU instantly obvious to one another.

Dinner last night was an experience. I don't think Josh has ever seen that much food in his life... And a lot of it PKU friendly.

Saturday:
Joshua adjusted to kids club without too much worry and I have attended each of the sessions over the 2 days. I have really enjoyed hearing the different stories and summaries of the professional workshops. The age specific workshop was a particular highlight for me but I will go into detail on that at a later time.

Right now we are enjoying an impressive thunderstorm from our balcony and will soon head off for the conference dinner and cultural show.

Rxx

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Are we ready?

So, here it is, 2 days out from our departure date and I have just discovered that today was not a teacher development/ pupil-free day and that the children were in fact meant to be at school. This leaves me wondering what else I may have overlooked… which leads to worry about all the things yet to be overlooked! How on earth are we going to see and do everything we have been learning about and planning for over the last few months in just 19 days? I guess there is only one way to find out.

To help prepare for our Turkish adventure we will be warming up our tourist walking shoes and memory cards in Amsterdam, Netherlands. In the 6 days leading up to our connecting flight to Antalya the plan is to go gezelligheid crazy. Here we will simply enjoy each other’s company in a beautiful place. Quietly observing the contrasts of this cosmopolitan city with its modern meets medieval charm, reflected in its 160 + canals as it goes about its way in it’s own good time.

Even before we have left the Dutch have made us feel welcome. I can not begin to thank our good friend Ingrid, living in Sydney, enough for her translations (mostly relating to PKU food) and the list of all supermarkets highlighting their low-pro diet suitable foods. Or for the many books she has loaned us on the Netherlands, offering reassurance that Amsterdam has much more to offer than its liberal reputation might suggest.

And Jolanda, for a few simple, yet poignant, words of encouragement from a friend who is always an example of how to reach hard for what you believe in. Is that a Dutch thing?

I have a husband who got behind this idea from the start, my two boys whose excitement kept the plans alive, parents who see through their worries to honestly feel happy for us, a sister who has opened her home to our youngest (her heart is always open), and a brother who has merged his itinerary with ours to make sure we are ‘looked out for’ over there. And that’s just the beginning. We have a very big family.

Are we ready? I don’t know. But with friends like these and a family like mine, I feel like somehow that isn’t as important as just enjoying this moment, the anticipation and knowing just how lucky we are.

I guess there is something to be learnt from today’s unscheduled absenteeism (or extra time with my boys)… despite all best intentions; things will not always go to plan. Being flexible might come in handy in the coming weeks, why not start a couple of days early?

A journey to unleash the spirit of resilience

Having Phenylketonuria (PKU) can be hard - just ask Joshua, my 7 year old son. PKU is a metabolic condition that is managed by a strict low-protein diet and monitoring of blood Phe levels. The focus is often on what Josh can't have: meat; seafood; milk; eggs; nuts; regular flour, pasta, bread; the list goes on. So, to remind us all that PKU is not just about restrictions, we have challenged ourselves to seek out positive opportunities and experiences relating to PKU.

Thanks to a travel grant offered by ASIEM and Nutricia, one such opportunity - attending an international conference about PKU - is now ours.

The two day ESPKU conference in Antalya, Turkey, where we hope to meet other PKU families seeking similar opportunities, is where our journey begins. At the conclusion of the conference, Josh and I will set off to learn about Turkey, its people, its history, its landscape, and what it might mean to live with PKU here.

Negotiating the west coast of Turkey, from South to North, we hope to: encounter the mysterious flames of Chimera and ancient ruins along the Lycian Trail of Olympos; enjoy the Mediterranean beauty of the coast in Fethiye; bathe in the calcium-rich thermal pools at the white cliffs of Pamukkale; take in the ancient city of Ephesus and traditional Turkish culture in Selcuk; to arrive in the bustling city of Istanbul a week later. All while maintaining a little-heard-about diet, sourcing suitable foods, carting around kilos of medical supplement and overcoming language and cultural barriers. Challenges and opportunities abound!

Our reward at the finish line? Knowing firsthand that PKU, like many challenges, has opportunities to offer. If you reach out and grab them - they can turn into life-changing experiences.

Knowledge that I hope might give Josh something positive to focus on when he feels down about having PKU. Now, and for the rest of his life.