April 4th: Lycia: Climb every mountain, ford every stream

Today we went east along the Mediterranean coast of Turkey to the ancient chimera, which has been burning for 3000 years.  After a strenuous climb to the top, accompanied by two busloads of students from Belgium, we saw the flames and the Hellenistic sanctuary at the top.  We spent a while sitting on a beach where sea turtles lay their eggs – beach umbrellas are NOT allowed!  After a ridiculous detour, we went on – literally fording a stream -- to the ruins of Olympos.  This site is set in the forest, and is part ancient city, and part natural glory.  We saw several tortoises, and Ian was able to save one from certain destruction on the highway.  We even got a few pictures of lizards!

Family and family friends:  my contact list was accidentally deleted,  so I am working off my four year old list on Webmail for email addresses.  If you  haven't heard from me in a while, would you mind sending me an email, so I can get your updated information?  I have reason to believe my emails aren't going out properly.

Today we got a late start.  We enjoyed a lovely breakfast at the rooftop breakfast bar, the usual tomatoes, cucumbers, goat and sheep cheese, olives, bread, and eggs – and were set until dinner.  The driveway to our hotel was temporarily blocked by a van, so we talked for fifteen minutes or so to a nice German couple, who had walked the Juan de Fuca Trail, near our hometown of Victoria, in 2010.  They had seen the chimera the day before, and were sure we would have it all to ourselves.

It is a two hour drive to the chimera from Kalkan, the town we are staying in, past Myra, and the Bishopr seat of St. Nicholas (yes, Santa, or in Turkish Noel Baba).  The drive reminded me of the drive along the Amalfi coast, with mountains above and bays of turquoise water below, except for the olive and rosemary growing along the sidelines.

As we came into Demri, Ian noticed a tortoise trying in vain to climb the 18 inch concrete curb.  Of course, we stopped and rescued it, Ian carrying the tortoise, and me following behind with lots of great advice on where the best place to put a tortoise might be.

Poor little tortoise, stuck on the road!

Ian to the rescue!  We saw four more tortoises over the course of the day, which made Ian's day entirely!

 We used the GPS to get us pretty close to the chimera, then followed the signs.  From the highway, and the size of the road going in to this area, you would think you were going into a remote wilderness.  We drove down from the dry hilltops into a beautiful green valley with lots of orange, lemon and other citrus groves, and then into an area absolutely stuffed with “pensyones” or small hotels with campgrounds attached.  Each pensyone was stuffed with tourists, mostly German.

We arrived at the parking lot of the chimaera at the same time as two – yes, two – busloads of students from Belgium arrived.  The Turkish name for this phenomenon is Yanartaş, which means “flaming rock”, and it was written about by Herodotus, so these flames have been burning for at least 2700 years, and probably much longer.

One must pay 3TL, and then begin the path.  It is not for the faint of heart, and we were really glad that a)  it wasn’t the first day of our trip, so we are in slightly better shape; and b) we weren’t in competition with the teenagers, who outpaced us pretty significantly.  The rough stone path, with steps 14 inches high in places, is 3.5 kilometres, pretty much straight up.

When we needed a breather, we pretended great interest in all of the flowers.  Actually, they really were very interesting.

At the top, we waited patiently for the guide to explain the site to the kids, most of whom spoke pretty good English.  (Although the main things I could understand were “s**t”, “OMG!”  and “sexy posen”.  I met Kevin VderL’s doppelganger, a teacher ( not associated with the Belgian students) from Germany who taught History and Geography, but who was now a librarian.  He was there with his wife and their two sons, aged about 5 and 3.  Although I was amazed at the boys who had made the climb, and who happily threw rocks at the “monsterlich”, his wife made the climb and she was seven months pregnant!  In fact, I made his acquaintance when he came over to ask if I was okay, and we struck up a conversation.  I thought it was because I was sitting by myself, but when Ian returned he pointed out that I was purple in the face.

Ian says it smells like a propane barbecue, although it is mostly methane. People roasted marshmallows and wieners, lit cigarettes, threw leaves in the fire, and did all sorts of touristy things, so a photo op like this isn't as hoaky as it might seem.

There is a temple to Hephaestus next to the flames, which are supposed to be amazing at night.  Greek sailors used to be able to see them from the ocean.

We then went to the pristine beach at Çıralı, which is famous for the sea turtles that lay their eggs there.  We had time to walk along in the sand, and to ponder what all the “do not signs” meant.  We couldn't figure out whether they meant you couldn't tag turtles, or attach price tags to their flippers.  They are all designed to protect the turtles, that much is for sure!

We tried to go to Olympos, using the GPS, but it took us to the dead end of the road to Çıralı, and stopped.  We made it all the way back to the highway, so we decided to go on to Myra, as it was 3:45, and we were afraid it would close.

However, 5 km back in the direction we came, we saw the signs to Olympos, so back we went.  The road to this fairly major attraction seemed impossibly rural, with more than the usual number of pot trenches.  We even had to ford a stream and a river without the aid of a bridge!  

The Ancient Greeks had a knack for placing their towns and cities in areas of great natural beauty, and this particular site has both ruins and acts as a nature park.  We saw birds, lizards, frogs, and tortoises.  

The forest setting made every ancient building a romantic and picturesque ruin.

A fifth century church.

 The park is on two sides of a small river, and where it meets the ocean, beside the Genoese castle put up to defend against pirates, we looked down the beach to discover that we were only half a kilometre from where we had been wading earlier.  However, by car, “you can’t get there from here”.  No wonder our GPS was confused:  there is a small mountain in the way!

 We hurried home, knowing we would not get there before dark, and some of those hair pin turns were downright scary in the dark. The mountain roads have three lanes, including what my dad called a “suicide lane”, and as Ian hurried along, I often had one hand braced against the dashboard and the other on the strap above the passenger window, because in the case of an accident, I could somehow steer the car this way.

The plan for tomorrow is a beach day, but we may have to go back and see a few of the sites we missed by sleeping in today!