Marmaris, Turkey, Wednesday April 2nd

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We slept in, showered, talked to Frey at last and read our emails. By the time we got going it was pretty late. Climbing up into the old town to visit the castle, we were intercepted by ‘Mama Castle’ who appeared from her tiny overfilled souvenir emporium as a spider leaves its web to greet a fly.

“Castle closed. Come, buy something, Mama Castle, ten years, shops in Marmaris very expensive, Mama Castle very cheap, five lira bracelet, Mama Castle here ten years, where you from? English? English Good. Good bracelet, good post card, good sock, five lira.’ She hardly drew breath but at this point she paused to give me a theatrical hug. ‘You good person, you good husband, good husband buy many things, five lira.’ We bought some socks for five lira and were feeling warm to this friendly old lady when, as if a switch had been turned on, the exact spiel, complete with the cuddle, re-ran. I climbed the steps to the castle gate to check the times during the third spiel and was back in time to buy a little gift which led to a fourth round and the pinning on us of small complimentary eyes to ward off jealousy. We rambled around the tiny old town, built very up and down on the promontory rocks with houses right up to the walls of the castle.

Since we were no longer vulnerable to the jealousy of anyone we met, we decided to walk all the way along the seaboard to a walking track through the mountains. The castle could wait until tomorrow.

All the way along people were preparing for the tourist season to come. The promenade was being resurfaced in many areas, water slides were being erected and new sand was being delivered and raked over the beaches. The crowd catered for is clearly international. Signs in English told of the range of international cuisines, dance and disco clubs and of the existence of British fish and chips and breakfasts. At last we reached the end and came to the walking track, clearly signposted with an excellent map of the area and all the walking options. We selected a 6.8 km walk that would lead us around to the back of the town, about two kilometres from where we were staying. The track was a flower edged unsurfaced road leading through lush forests and up the mountains to stark outcrops of rock. All along there were information boards, rubbish bins and seats to rest on and admire the views. The views were magnificent – sometimes with no sign of habitation to impede the wild and secluded feel of mountains and sea, and sometimes with the city of Marmaris glowing in the distance between them. It was the first time that we had found lavenders growing wild and I had an irresistible urge to crush a few leaves every hundred metres or so. The air was fresh and clear. We met an English couple from Derbyshire along the way and they gave us some advice on walks in England and on managing the train system cheaply. It was a delightful walk and endeared Marmaris to us.

On the way back through the town we passed the amphitheatre and the cemetery. The cemetery is on a main road but as soon as you enter the gates and step into the half light in the shade of the many trees growing between the graves, other sounds disappear. The graves were very close together, recording basic information as ours do. Only very occasionally was a photo included. What was striking was that all tops of the graves were indented and acted as garden beds which were generally well tended. Some graves were home made and others were simply a ring of stones around a plot with a wooden marker. It had started to drizzle and was just becoming serious about being rain when we got home. We cooked up another delicious meal to eat with the Turkish bread that we had bought. I say Turkish bread, meaning it was a bit like the Turkish bread we have in Australia but we have not seen much of it for sale here.

Most Turkish towns have a statue and a major road named after Mustafa Kemal Attatürk - hero of the Gallipoli campaign in the Fırst World War and the man who led Turkey into the modern world.

School kids ın Marmaris

This sculpture on the foreshore in Marmaris commemorates the families of sponge fishermen. It depicts a family anxiously awaiting the return of the husband and father from his hazardous venture into the Mediterranean in search of sponges.