Adventures of Ange

So I ended up leaving the guesthouse I was at, in favour of staying at a different hotel in town. It all started by meeting Mazen...

I was at the cafe across the road from the hotel I am at now, drinking tea and writing in my journal. It started to get cold, suddenly I felt a heaviness on my shoulders, some random person has just dropped a leather jacket on my shoulders. He disappeared as I uttered a weak "teshekuler" in thanks. Moments later he was back, introduced himself as Mazen and we began to talk. He is a Dutch guy, originally from Syria, staying at this hotel in town. Bonus points: He speaks Turkish.

So we got to chatting, he showed me the hotel and we got to know each other. Had dinner at Edjer resaurant, owned by mutual friends of ours. We then went out for nargile, to smoke water pipe and have some drinks at a local bar. We played checkers, time flew by, and I thought I should be getting back to the guesthouse. I thought nothing of it, seeing as my guesthouse owner, Shayne, said I was free to come and go as I pleased.

So Mazen walks me back the dark streets of the gypsy quarter to the secluded guesthouse. The door is locked. Uh oh. He tells me it's okay, he can get me a free room at his hotel, no problem. Even one with the famous "stork view" rooms, (a view of the stork nests on the ruins of the roman aqueduct that go through the town.)

We tiptoe past the snoring man at reception, and I am shown to a beautiful room. In the morning I was woken by the dawn call of prayer, the eerie sound filling my cold room deliciously and lifting me out of my dreams. I opened the curtains to see the storks preening and nesting, about to switch shifts with their partners. Beautiful.

So I walk back through the gypsy quarter in the early morning, a smile on my face at the goats and cats scampering in the streets. I arrive at the guesthouse door, nervous to explain where I was the night before. The door is still locked. I don't want to wake up Shayne. I wander around, check the back door. Hmm, maybe if I can just sneak in over this wall... it's pretty low. I find an old three legged chair and lean it up against the wall. I look around, no one. Putting one foot on the centre, I place my hands and one two three, heave! Snap! The chair buckles and I drop to the ground, suddenly hearing a screaming woman. I turn around, and there she is, pointing and yelling. I try to walk away calmly, knowing there is no way I can explain myself! So I round the corner to walk away, and there is Shayne's mother! The old woman yells at her, she yells at me, I look desperate and confused, they both yell some more. I hear the word, "polis!". Suddenly Shayne bursts open the door bewildered in his pyjamas. The women yell at him, then they all yell at me... while I am calmly trying to explain the whole thing to Shayne.... oh god. I felt horrible. It is funny now.

ANYWAYS, I decided to leave the guesthouse. I felt ashamed after that. But they had been a little odd before that anyways, they locked me in alone, served me separate meals... everyone was a bit curt except Shayne's mother, bless her senile heart. So I left the next day.

Now I've been at this hotel in town, eating very well, and socializing. I learned two new styles of checkers, bought a lot of souveniers, made a lot of friends. Visited the nearest beach at sunset, yesterday went to the small greek village to taste wine and experience the quaintness. Helped Murat talk to girls online in English. It's nice, it really is.

It turns out that after my whirling dervish travelling in the past two weeks, my bank account is looking pretty sad. Not to mention my entire body is suffering from some kind of muscle tension which causes Shayne to say "This is not small problem. Big problem. You are big problem girl." I can't help but giggle at his poor English as he pounds my shoulderblades with the side of his hand. Apparently he knows about massage. So I have decided to rest at for a few weeks, working for my stay.

By the way Shayne is the owner of the guesthouse I am at. It's on the outskirts of town, amidst the headscarved old women and hordes of screaming playing children in the hot and dusty streets. The other day I was walking 'home' and was accosted by a group of these women and children. We attempted to converse in brief words and sign language. Suddenly they noticed my hair and swarmed around, all wanting to touch, tie knots, and pull at my dreadlocks.

I've started to make friends in town, a Kurdish carpet shop ower with two prized Van cats, and a jack-of-all-trades hotel manager/police man/doctor/ambulance driver/teacher/interpreter/ taxi driver. The latter imparted on me some wisdom the other day over some Turkish tea in his hotel lounge, "There are two great pleasures in life, the first is kebab, the second is women."

Yesterday I took a day trip to the Greek Isle of Samos, it was beautiful of course and I ate a Greek salad with two American girls I met on the ferry.

I think what I will remember about this time the most is the late afternoon contrast by the low sun, sharpening the thousand glasses of tea I have drunk with an orange glow. The Artemis temple and it's turtles and flowers, flowers everywhere, taking over... picking camomile on the castle hill in my sandals, crouched like the nearby goats.

Oh my god. The past week has been a whirlwind of activity. First of all, I left Istanbul for Cappadocia, and took a tour and explored this area, it's got these strange rock formations caused by volcanic erruptions, over 200 ancient underground cities, and limitless caves that served as houses, early churches, and communal spaces. It was cold there though -- it snowed a few times! I took another night bus to Antalya, with a friend. After I got off the bus, my neck had this huge crick, a giant knot and I was paralyzed and seriously crying from the pain. My body is in a crisis now... a Turkish masseuse helped me realize what a state I am in... I can't wait to get home and resume a healthy diet and exercise... and YOGA my god.

Anyways Antalya was nice. Planned to stay a while but ended up hopping in a rental car with Nat, a fellow dreadlocked Australian girl, one of the most incredible and inspiring people I have met so far. We looked like quite a sight, were mistaken for a lesbian couple a lot of times too! Anyways we visited ruins at Falesis and Olimpos, drove over rivers and slept in a bungalow. We stayed up late with some Canadians by the light of the Chimera's breath, eternal unexplainable flames that burst from the rock at this particular mountain.

The next day we moved to Kale Koy, saw the sunken city at Kekova, and made some friends with a boat. We climed to a castle for another one of those sunset things, and cruised through the stars, parting the black water into sprays mirroring the night sky, with phosphorus particles glowing like stars. We cuddled into the boat and slept.

Upon sunrise we bolted up, carried on to Pamukkale. Got ourselves sorted at the old internet cafe that caters to every need, and climbed up the white mountain, famous for it's calcified rock and pools of water. We slipped and slid with the best of Turkish children and families. Came back for the ruins at night time. Made for Selcuk but had to stop to sleep along the way, in a clean cheap hotel found by a random lovely Turkman.

On the fourth day we rose again, and found ourselves in Selcuk. After a turkish breakfast, saw the ruins in all their splendor. Nat left and I returned to the ruins via motorbike with some man. I can't describe the feeling I get amongst the old rocks and columns, the temples overgrown with poppies and fig trees, the vibrations of wind in the tall pines and the bushes and herbs and grasses of spring in ancient Roman cities. Life is good.

Well after the farm in Italy I hopped over to Roma, planning to get to Milano for my flight the next day. It turns out all the trains were booked, so I got a ticket for the next morning at 7:30. Because of daylight savings time, I accidentally woke up not at 6, but 7... ran to the station and arrived in time to watch the doors of my train shut. I went and knocked on them anxiously, but no one would open them up... I stood helpless for a good two minutes before the train finally departed. So I got the next one, and cut it really close... I was convinced that I'd miss my flight. The stress of travel.

Anyways, I arrived in Istanbul and made it to my hostel... Bahaus. It's fantastic, a chilled out atmosphere, great lounge area. Very easy to meet people. Istanbul... I am really impressed. The middle eastern influence is apparent, but it is far more developed than Morocco, which surprised me. It is a liberal city, with loads of bars and clubs and a nice alternative scene. The shopping is cheap, the carpets are plenty, and the food is incredible. There is the old bazaar and spice bazaar, both full-on closed markets, selling all the silver, gold, scarves, belly-dancing costumes, rugs, spices, oils. Yet just across a bridge is taksim, which is completely modern and European style.

I've explored the city and done a lot of window shopping, visited numerous mosques, one in which we were actually allowed to witness the men's prayer (!!). I saw a whirling dervish performance, tasted turkish delight, and smoked shishah, had too many glasses of tea to count.

I am happy to once again bear witness to the eerie sound of the prayer call... yesterday we went out to some clubs and came home to the sound of the morning prayer (5:30). I leaned out the window for a brief moment to catch the dark inertia of Istanbul, pre-sunrise. Magical.