Over Ölüdeniz

The harbor in Fethiye.
The harbor in Fethiye.

There’s no doubt that the Turquoise Coast was one of the most beautiful places I visited in Turkey. Whether the vantage point was from the deck of a boat, from within the water itself, or from the hilltop ruins of Simena, the Turquoise Coast was drop-dead gorgeous…but in my book, nothing beats a bird’s-eye view. I’m a sucker for heights and the views they provide. Tall buildings and mountains are all well and good…but if I have an opportunity to get literally up in the air, you can bet that I’m going to take it.

Aside from our time spent sailing around Kekova, our other stop on the Turquoise Coast was the seaside resort town of Ölüdeniz, located in the Fethiye region on the Mediterranean. Ölüdeniz is especially popular for British holiday-goers, to the point that many of the seaside cafés and restaurants advertise traditional Sunday roasts in the hopes of luring in some homesick travelers. (Though why you’d go for that over a kebab or some Turkish ice cream, I’m not sure…)

Ölüdeniz's Blue Lagoon
Ölüdeniz’s Blue Lagoon

Ölüdeniz is a pretty photogenic place, what with all that pristine white sand and cerulean water, but the feature photographed the most is definitely the aptly named Blue Lagoon. Sheltered from the open sea by a long, thin spit of land, the lagoon’s tranquil water makes it a popular place for sun-worshippers and swimmers alike. Its picture-perfect quality draws the crowds like no other, though. The glassy water might be serene, but the hoards of splashing swimmers and screeching children aren’t exactly a good complement.

Enter in the other thing that Ölüdeniz is famous for: paragliding.

I’d gone paragliding the previous winter in Pokhara in Nepal, and I’d loved every dizzying, euphoric minute of it…so there was never a question in my mind that I’d be getting up in the air again. Ölüdeniz’s open skies were calling my name, and I wasn’t about to ignore them.

En route to the peak of Badabag
En route to the peak of Badabag

On our second day in Fethiye, I (and a few others…my enthusiasm ended up proving contagious) woke up bright and early for a 6:30 takeoff. I’m a pretty chipper morning person in general, but a 5:00 a.m. wake-up is a lot more enjoyable when you know you’re doing it to jump off a cliff with nothing but a piece of cloth to keep you alive and kicking. (Or maybe that’s just me? Self-preservation isn’t always my strong suit.)

Heights don’t really scare me – I find them more thrilling than anything – but I have no shame in admitting that the van ride to the top of Badabag, the 1700 meter hill overlooking Ölüdeniz, was probably the scariest half-hour of my life. The “road” is all loose rocks, and when you’re whipping around corners with not even a guardrail between you and a sheer drop to a fiery death, it’s hard not to feel a tiny bit nervous. I had to consciously tell myself, “This guy drives up here every day. He knows this road. You’re not going to die. You will not die.”

Prepping for takeoff.
Prepping for takeoff.
It was a good morning to jump off a mountain.
It was a good morning to jump off a mountain.
Suited up.
Suited up.

And obviously, I didn’t. It’s a good thing, too, because I wouldn’t have wanted to kick the bucket without seeing the Turquoise Coast from the air. Once my pilot had strapped us into our harness, I was all too happy to run full tilt at the edge of the mountain, all too gleeful to feel the ground drop away from my feet and the wind to catch our chute.

Thanks to a steady updraft of air, paragliders around Ölüdeniz can reach altitudes of just over three thousand (!) meters. Even for me, that’s pretty high. Usually, the skies are full of the wheeling, colorful chutes, but since we had the very first flight of the day, we had the air to ourselves. Flight like that, with nothing but some fabric, ropes, and air keeping you aloft, is one of my favorite feelings in the world.

Up, up, and away.
Up, up, and away.

It’s not all serene, though…because what’s the point of flying if you can’t get an adrenaline rush while doing it? When my pilot found out that I’d been paragliding before, he asked if I wanted the “extreme” acrobatic treatment, and I gave one of the most emphatic affirmations of my life. “Extreme” definitely summed up the corkscrews, barrel rolls, and wild, wheeling spins that he whipped us through.

The Turquoise Coast, living up to its name.
The Turquoise Coast, living up to its name.

By the time we landed down on Ölüdeniz’ white sand beach, my stomach felt like it had been twisted into a pretzel, and my sense of balance was completely shot. I didn’t much mind that momentary dizziness, though. I’d have put up with a thousand pretzel-stomachs and miles of giddy, wobbly steps in exchange for getting a bird’s-eye view of the Turquoise Coast and the Blue Lagoon.

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Southern Sailing off Turkey’s Turquoise Coast

I miss the sunshine.
I miss Turkey’s sunshine.

It’s a dreary and rainy autumn day in northern Japan. Rain, snow, and even hail has fallen intermittently all day, and the chilly wind and clouds, cinereous and heavy with rain, have only reinforced the fact that winter is coming. And as much as I love the grey, cold weather – perfect for readings piles of books, drinking endless mugs of coffee, and burrowing under my cozy kotatsu – I can’t help but dream of the sunny days and blue waters I saw in Turkey this summer.

The Turquoise Coast
The Turquoise Coast

Continue reading Southern Sailing off Turkey’s Turquoise Coast

A Stunner of a Sunset at Pamukkale

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I have seen beautiful places in the world…and then I have seen Pamukkale. I separate those two because Pamukkale, with its stark white travertines and milky blue water, needs to be put in a category all its own. It’s downright otherworldly, one of those places whose beauty is so off-the-wall and unexpected that you think Mother Nature must have been a little tipsy when she dreamed it up.

The travertines of Pamukkale
The travertines of Pamukkale

Make no mistake about it; Pamukkale was a place that had been on my bucket list since the day I put it down on paper, and it was one of the things that put Turkey above a few other places for my summer vacation destination of choice. Even though a few months have passed, the views I took in there remain unbelievably beautiful in my mind, undimmed and undiluted.

Calcium carbonate deposits have covered the hillside.
Calcium carbonate deposits have covered the hillside.

Continue reading A Stunner of a Sunset at Pamukkale

A Trip to Troy

Turkey is so old it’s intimidating. In America, we get excited if something is more than a hundred years old, since we’re fairly new to the whole “independent nation” game, at least relatively speaking. In the United Kingdom or Japan, it takes something being a few centuries old to become impressive. But in Turkey? If it’s not a thousand years old, it’s basically not considered old. (Case in point: the New Mosque in Istanbul? Four hundred years old.)

Lines of ruins at the entrance to Troy
Lines of ruins at the entrance to Troy

There are ruins everywhere you look in Turkey, and I do mean that literally. And they’re often presented without fanfare; they’re just another part of everyday Turkey. One of my favorite restaurants in Sultanahment has remnants of five-hundred-year-old structures in its basement. In Pamukkale, you can swim over columns and flagstones that are over two thousand years old. In Selçuk, you can see the last remaining column of the Temple of Artemis, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, and yet it just stands, without any sort of fence or sign or hullaballoo, in a field. Even when they’re crumbling and decrepit, ruins are as much a part of Turkey as kebabs and the Blue Mosque.

Ruins, ruins everywhere.
Ruins, ruins everywhere.

Continue reading A Trip to Troy

Breakfast at Istanbul’s Spice Market

If the Grand Bazaar is Istanbul’s haven for shoppers, then the Spice Market is for the foodies. Also called the Egyptian Bazaar (or Mısır Çarşısı in Turkish), it’s the second largest covered market in Istanbul, second only to the Grand Bazaar. Where the Grand Bazaar is filled with stall after stall of jewelry, clothes, carpets, and other myriad souvenirs, the Spice Market – as you might guess from its name – is all about food. While a few shops sell small souvenirs, they’re far outnumbered by their neighbors that purvey all manner of dried fruits, nuts, teas, sweets, and every sort of spice you could wish for.

Dried eggplants, tomatoes, and okra outside the Spice Market.
Dried eggplants, tomatoes, and okra outside the Spice Market.

The Spice Market is located in the Eminönü neighborhood in the Fatih district, only a stone’s throw from the Galata Bridge and directly behind the New Mosque. (Which, incidentally, is four hundred years old. Only in Istanbul would that be considered ‘new.’) Compared to the Grand Bazaar’s maze of corridors, its hundred or so stalls are a dream to navigate.

The New Mosque outside of the Spice Market.
The New Mosque outside of the Spice Market. 

As you walk down the center arcade, vendors plying Turkish delight will offer you tiny cubes of the gummy, pistachio- and hazelnut-laden stuff in flavors as varied as pomegranate, cinnamon, rosewater, mint, or orange. Other sellers will beckon you into their shops to marvel at the dozens of teas that perfume the air. Powdery piles of red pepper, mint, saffron, and sumac tickle your nose with their pungent aromas.

Dried dates, mangos, pineapples, tomatoes, apricots, and figs are only a few of the snacks available at the Spice Market.
Dried dates, mangos, pineapples, tomatoes, apricots, and figs are only a few of the snacks available at the Spice Market.

Continue reading Breakfast at Istanbul’s Spice Market

Dinner at Istanbul’s Mikla (Or, “Sometimes Blowing Your Budget Is Worth It”)

The view from the terrace of Mikla in Beyoglu
The view from the terrace of Mikla in Beyoglu

Some of the best meals I’ve had on the road have been dirt-cheap. A bowl of fresh bhelpuri, bursting with pomegranate seeds and topped with a handful of fresh coriander, on the streets of New Delhi? Fifty cents. A plate of spicy fried rice heaped with loads of fresh vegetables and a fried egg in Indonesia? A dollar fifty. A dozen piping hot buffalo momos in Nepal? That set me back an entire five bucks. Even in Denmark, one of the most expensive countries in the world, a massive (and I do mean massive…it was about the size of my head) slab of apple strudel only cost me about three dollars. In so many cases, I’ve paid for meals abroad by rummaging through the change pocket of my wallet…

…but every once in a while, a splurge is in order. Sometimes a girl needs to feel fancy. That’s what led me to Mikla, the fine dining restaurant located on the top two floors of the swanky Marmara Pera Hotel, on my second-to-last night in Istanbul. Continue reading Dinner at Istanbul’s Mikla (Or, “Sometimes Blowing Your Budget Is Worth It”)

A Boat Trip up the Bosphorus

Are you sure this wasn't on Game of Thrones?
Are you sure this wasn’t on Game of Thrones?

If you like your personal space, peak travel season is not for you. That’s definitely the case for Istanbul at the height of summer. The line to get into the Blue Mosque is almost always ungodly long, the Grand Bazaar is crowded with people looking for an amazing steal, and even Gülhane Park’s shady grass is strewn with loungers seeking to beat the heat. Cities are packed with people; it’s – duh – what makes them cities. And sometimes an escape to a quieter place, even for just a few hours, is in order.

In Istanbul, there’s the perfect alternative to the sun-baked asphalt and sweaty throngs: hop aboard one of the Şehir Hatları boats at the Eminönü docks near the Galata Bridge in the mid-morning and sail an hour or two up the Bosphorus River to Anadolu Kavağı, an itty-bitty little town that sits at the mouth of the Black Sea.

The steep bluffs surrounding Anadolu Kavağı
The steep bluffs surrounding Anadolu Kavağı

Continue reading A Boat Trip up the Bosphorus

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