Fethiye was quite pretty in the morning; our hotel was across from a marina.
Inside, Maeghan was opening her month-after-her-birthday present (I think it's a Canada thing. Like Mounties or Zambonies) and ruhlessly rousing people awake to the tender strains of Avenue Q. And I thought Canda hadn't produced any serial killers.
Girl is waaaay too cheerful in the just-barely-post-dawn hours.
But I digress.
After Maeghan had bullied, cajoled, and threatened everyone out of slumber, we all hauled ourselves out to the bus and departed for Dalyan to see the Lycian tombs. As usual, the long-suffering guide was a little fuzzy on the details (and, indeed, the basic premise), but apparently at some point a really long time ago, a beautiful princess (princess are always beautiful in legends) fell for a boy in a really big way. Inconveniently, this boy was her brother. Kerfluffle ensued, and eventually the girl died tragically and everyone mourned her, because even if she was a creepy, she was, of course, beautiful, so they carved some really nice tombs in a cliff face in her honor.
Anyway. As with the trip to the Sunken City, the Lycian tombs were really only reachable by a rickety boat ride through wind and rain.
Hannah, looking remarkably like the Unabomber.
Sheep!
Tombs!
A very lonely tree.
The local mosque (very pretty):
Valerio, looking cold and miserable and probably thinking about how it's summer in Brazil right now.
Having miraculously survived the voyage of the wannabe Titanic, we thawed out on the bus for the drive to Bodrum.
Bodrum is THE resort town of Turkiye. Talk to anyone in Istanbul, and if they have a summer house, apartment, or timeshare, it's in Bodrum. As I've mentioned before, we were there in the off-season, so about half the businesses were closed and the local strays were looking a bit skinny. Bodrum's also kind of strange in that the entire town is white. By town law, all buildings must be whitewashed. From a distance, the effect is quite stunning - it's just when you get closer that you realize what your mother always told you is indeed true: white shows everything. So instead of looking white and sparkly, things just look kind of...dirty. But once you get past the grime, it really is a fun town.
I think Garet was sleepy. And Julianna was just bemused.
Julianna being...smoochy.
Following lunch (overpriced tost from a cafe; something kind of like a toaster pastry from McDonalds - and man, was that thing hot) we regrouped to tour the Museum of Underwater Archeology at Bodrum Castle. According to our long-suffering guide, Bodrum Castle was built by crusaders and has, and I quote, "a tower for every nationality." Given that the castle only had five towers, I'm guessing that she meant "for every nationality involved in the Crusades."
And apparently there had been some question about whether the Museum of Underwater Archeology was, in fact, underwater:
(It's not)
The vistas...
The scary masks...
The glass fragments...
The highly self-explanatory warning signs...
Myself, cleverly disguised as a slightly more modest Venus de Milo...
Upon seeing this lion next to a lamppost...the first thing that came to mind was, "Aslan's a quadruple amputee!" and some crack about the White Witch's winter being harsher than previously reported. Mattie accused me of destroying her childhood. Oops.
The Marina outside Bodrum Castle...
And sunset on the beach as we walked to the hotel. Lovely.
And finally, photos taken from the hotel room balcony. All but the last were taken with a fifteen-second exposure:
So this is why Bodrum's so popular.
1 comment:
"Having miraculously survived the voyage of the wannabe Titanic, we thawed out on the bus for the drive to Bodrum."
I'm dying here. You're making my day.
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