A Mediterranean Dream

After being in the scrappy town of Selçuk for three nights, I head south in hopes of sun and a change of pace.   I took a minibus to the town of Aydin and switched to a larger, fancy bus to Fethiye, on the Mediterranean.  Turkey has an extensive network of busses large and small shuttling people short-haul, like Selçuk to Sirinçe, or long-haul, like Aydin to Fethiye (about 4 hours).  The long-haul busses are fancy.  Each one seems to come with two porters, many in bow ties and vests who check passengers in, serve beverages and snacks a la flight attendants, and retrieve baggage. Each seat has its own mini tv and pull-down snack tray.  So civilized.  Greyhound could learn a thing or two. 

Originally, I had tried to book myself into an apart-hotel that was well-rated on tripadvisor, but the owner, Dr. Can (pronounced John), said they were closed during the winter.  He offered to ready a room for me if I needed, but there was no staff there.  I thank him, but decline.  Instead, I booked a hotel through booking.com (I have had pretty good success with them since I started using the site last year in Asia).  I arrive and the place is an oasis for me after the sweet, but shabby environs of Selçuk.  The hotel is somewhat secluded, right off the marina, it was a bargain and I got upgraded to a seaview that also overlooks the pool.  I’m almost giddy.  The bathroom alone is about the combined size of my room and bathroom in Istanbul.   The sky is perfectly blue from my balcony.  Aahhh.  A guy likes his creature comforts too.

By now, it is late afternoon and the sun will set shortly, so I set off to explore the town.  I don’t know how to describe it, especially in terms of other Mediterranean cities since I have never been to one, but it is just very nice and sweet, clean and relaxed.   Views along the harbor, with the boats and their masts, are a sight for sore eyes that didn’t know what they had been missing.  I wander away from the waterfront and into the town and discover an outdoor fish market, which is ringed by restaurants that will cook whatever seafood you buy from the fishmongers.  Only one restaurant seems to do any business, so that’s where I go. It is chilly, but with heat lamps, there are many diners outside.  I pick out some cold mezes to go with my small bottle of raki (phew, it turned out to be about 4 glasses) and order a sea bass.  It is a place without menus and prices (which I knew would later lead to a bit of sticker shock). The little rounds of bread come piping hot out of the oven (you can see the baker rolling out the dough in the window), flecked with poppy seeds and OMG, they are so good.  Pillowy and hot, with a hint of salt.  

I watch small Turkish Mediterranean city life unfold before me – a sophisticated young mother in a pashmina dangling her cigarette just so, a pair of distinguished older gentlemen eating plate after plate of food, while indulging the few cats that roam about with scraps of fish, a pair of diners being serenaded by a trio of Turkish musicians.

It’s probably the raki, but I have an undeniable warm and fuzzy feeling that floats me back to my hotel like a Mediterranean dream.