Dalyan-ce

Tombs of the Lycian King (ca. 400 BCE)

Four days back in Dalyan. Last trip we parked it on a beach in Cirali which was very. Ice, but on the whole I think this place has a bit more to offer. The early flight out from Cappadocia involved a long taxi ride from Ayvali to Kayseri, early morning on the Cappadocian plains. The volcano outside Kayseri is remarkable, but otherwise the flight from there back to Istanbul and then on to Dalaman was in eventful.

Pegasus Airlines did offer a refresher course on the charms of super economy air travel, starting with some surprise overage charges for baggage and a bill for the glass of tea proffered in flight - but okay, it was a cheap flight and here we are.

Dalyan is our beach place, so there's not a whole lot of opportunity for historical or cultural observations. Actually, beaches are a kind of inter-cultural constant. Sun and surf reverts us to some kind of pre-Babel state of harmony and agreement.

We paced the visit here nicely. Jumped in the river and enjoyed the gardens of this happy little hotel (pansyon, really, although there is a magnificent meal served up each night). Monday we got to the beach. Tuesday we took advantage of the fact that there are four of us traveling together. That means a private tour boat is your for pretty much the same price as hopping on a boat with a larger gang and following the instructions of the guide. We rode outside Dalyan to swim near the caves in the next bay. We saw sea turtles chase after crabs tossed in the water by the tour guides, lunch, sulfur mud baths, and a trip to Lake Koycegiz for a final fresh water swim and rinse. Beautiful weather, wonderful water.... More beach today.

The town here - I think- has grown a bit since I was here last (seven years?). Mostly it's tourist trinket joints, restaurants and cafés, some facing the river and others pitching their "garden" seating. The touts in front of the dinner places do a good job at chatting you up all the way up and down the street. It's a beach vacation city. The shadow of Ramadan seems a lot thinner here, and come to think of it the call to prayer is scarcely audible at least in this part of town.

The place where we are staying is beautiful. A long house with only about ten or so rooms emptying out onto a gorgeous and beautifully maintained garden that opens on to a terrace and a dock on the river. The ancient tombs of the Lycian Kings (ca 400 BCE) rise up on the other side of the river. Each morning I start with a plunge into the river for a brackish water rinse and stretch. My only complaint is about the beds - about as large and soft as a camping mattress. I find myself taking a couple ibuprofen to prepare for the nights sleep. The hotel back in Istanbul tomorrow will be a welcome sleep, at least for that reason.

 

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Home Cookin'

Weekly Market in Urgrup

Fun day today. Enough of the rocks and churches - we got to focus almost exclusively on food and home life.

 

First off, the weekly market in Urgrup. Spectacular place with is proliferation of produce of all sorts - nuts, dried fruits, vegetables - especially tomatoes and peppers, great vats of farmer made cheeses and yogurt, raw chickpeas still on the branch (vine? bush?). Huey also sell clothes and housewares, potted plants and flowers, tools, farm equipment -almost everything you want for Cappadocian daily life.

 

 

Then off to the home of our driver. We got to meet his mother and his wife, see the pictures of one of his some off in military service (mandatory twelve months here). We "helped" make lunch - which essentially means we shucked some beans, tasted the tomato sauce and generally got in the way. Still, it was great to see the way things are made. We had some bulgur and minced meat Koftecisi cooked up in a tomato and oil sauce - slightly spicy and very good. We started with a really nice yogurt and rice soup (not what I would generally expect to like, but this was really good) with minced onion and maybe some cucumber and cooked rice heated up in yogurt with maybe some mint. There was a vegetable course with those beans cooked in a bit of cucumber, onion and tomato sauce - seasoned with some hot pepper and cooked in a stove top pressure cooker. The desert was a mild, soft and slightly sweet pudding/drought made from cooking flower in oil and then adding milk and grape seed molasses.a simple preparation but I could see things had to be timed just right to bring it all together.

Actually,what impressed me most was the kitchen and the garden. The kitchen was carpeted with an oriental carpet floor, but otherwise totally simple. Shelves were a few planks covered with a cloth curtain. Containers tended to be old plastic margarine containers. Completely basic, and the food was excellent. They even have a little bread oven out in the garden.

 

The home was also clean and simple. Really four rooms off a hall entryway. Nice view of the valley. Furnishings were a few couches pushed to the sides of the room, one television and a bowl of pet minnows. The gardens were great - some lettuce, tomato, basic herbs, a few plum trees and a big walnut tree and a little five by ten foot patch of carefully cultivates grass.

 

Most remarkable: there was a Hoopoe nesting in the garden wall. Amazing bird - brown and black barred feathers, some bright red accents, and an enormous crest behind its head - when folded about as long as it's beak making its head look like a pick axe. I'm neither talented enough nor equipped to get a good picture - but find it on the web. I remember reading a line about a Hoopoe in a Rumi poem last semester and had no idea about the reference.

 

 

 

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Paradise

Ilhara Canyon, Cappadocia

 

Two days ago our tour guide took use for an easy stroll through the Ilhara Canyon. Cappadocia - at least historically- seems to he all about hiding. If you don't run up into a cave high up a cliff, you sink down into an underground city. A happy alternative is these canyons. The country side of Cappadocia is arid and rocky, but now and again you find these canyons carved by a river or stream. You don't know they are there until you nearly fall into them.

 

That would be a tough fall into the Ilhara Canyon. I think we went down about 400 steps getting from the lip to the bottom. Down there you find this lush green valley and a river filled with fish meandering beneath the cliffs. People of old have carved homes into the rocky cliff sides (again, protection just in case someone does find the canyon) and, of course, there are a series of cave churches with walls covered in different ages of Byzantine Church art.

 

It surprises me how so many of these ruins are left relatively unprotected. You can see some vandalism, but most of that looks quite old (some of the graffiti we saw dates to the 18th century). There was one church in another valley where Eastern Orthodox if old would go to carve their prayers and wishes.

 

We stopped at one little trail side restaurant/camp where this family carries in food and supplies in their backs, and runs a little outdoor cafe. I understand this family used to own a chunk of the valley before the government took it over as a park. By letting them run their cafe here they both incentivize some oversight of the place and offer some more compensation for the dispossessed locals. We saw a similar arrangement before where a local family retains the rights to collect a little fee and have a nice garden in and around a monastery valley.

 

Easy stroll in a cool place on a hot day. Of course, followed by the usual four or five courses of lunch.

 

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Sobessos

Church at Sobessos

 

Fine Cappadocia day!

I declined the chance to go down into the underground city at Kamakali. I've gone down that hole twice before. It is worth the trek, but although I am not claustrophobic it does tend to bring it out of you.

 

Later on the most interesting thing was this ancient Roman city (pre-Byzantine) that they are digging up out of a farmers field here. The first remarkable thing is that they found this at all. Apparently when a farmer reports thing like this in his fields, reporting it means the land is taken away. Although they get paid for the loss, they use the field for food and no one else is ever willing to sell off another orchard here. So, there are disincentives.

 

They think it's Sobessos - an ancient capital city here. Above is a picture of a nice mosaic uncovered in one large building. Its a nice image of the conversion of an old Roman hall (temple?) into a Byzantine church with the church walls and altar build right on top of the old floor with its tile mosaic. There's also a nice old Roman bath set beside this with it's raised floor for heating.

 

We had lunch in an old Greek town deeply impacted by the population exchange back in the 1920s. A family run place - wonderful food out on a covered terrace. Then a trip to a small park with some sweet panoramic overviews, some pottery in Avanos and back for a swim and a nice meal. Good day!

 

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Justinian's Church

Got reacquainted with the delights of a Turkish breakfast (simit, tomatoes, cucumbers, meat and cheese and that nice mix of tahini and grapeseed molasses - sort of a Turkish peanut butter).

 

The off to Hagia Sophia (Aga Sophia, Ayasofya) - trying to beat the crowds. Topkapi Palace is closed today, so I suspect Hagia Sophia gets all the more attention.

 

His is the third or fourth time I've visited - best yet. Knowing a bit more about what you are seeing makes all the difference. The outside of the building is very grand - particularly in the old images where you see the church more or less set off by itself. Today it's crowded in with all sorts of additions - old and new: Sinan's minarets, medrasse, the Hurrem Hamam, various tombs - and t)9/3 are just the old additions. So, from the outside it's something of a jumble. The effect is all the more dramatic because as you entire through the lodge and into the world under the dome suddenly it all appears as large and lofty as the sky itself. That, I gather is the intended impact- a highly crafted and ornamented Byzantine universe. All of this overwritten with the Islamic features of worship and decoration. This is another wonderful feature of this building - the layering of a Byzantine and Ottoman art and religion. I took a picture of one corner there in the gallery where they have literally peeled back the Ottoman and Byzantine layers to reveal the old brick and mortar construction underneath it all.

Lunch at Doy Doy - a very nice constant across now three of these trips to Turkey. Good inexpensive food in a beautiful place overlooking the Bosphorous and the Blue Mosque - mostly vegetables and a few pieces of very nice ground lamb or sausage.

 

The afternoon adventure was hoofing it over and down the hill to Galata bridge and figuring out how to get a nice boat tour up to the Ataturk bridge and back.

 

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And back again...

 

The Blue Mosque - picture taken in 2009 from the DoyDoy terrace.

Here's the plan....

• Leave Sunday
  
• Two days in Istanbul
  
• Four days in Cappadocia
  
• Four days on the beach in Dalyan
  
• Four days back in the city
  

And back on July 14th.

 

Planning on this one got away from me. I wanted to get out to this conference on Heybeliada (one of the Princes Islands off Istanbul), but that one seems to have vanished - not the island, but the conference. Five days before the conference begins the website still posts "coming soon..." regarding the program and the conference details.

 

Too bad... Just a few days ago I listened to a podcast about the monastery and seminary there on Heybeliada and an interview with the leader of the monastery there who was talking about the meaning of the place and it's future. There was also a longer interview with a Dominican monk from Istanbul who has become a scholar of mysticism and the Sufic tradition.http://www.onbeing.org/program/spiritual-boundaries-modern-turkey-fr-alberto-ambrosio-and-metropolitan-elpidophoros>

 

It's been five years now since I started teaching my course on Istanbul - it's mostly about historical stuff (Byzantines and Ottomans). Now I am heading back again to the City. It's the classic vertigo experience - the more I fall into the place the more the floor recedes. I think this go round of the City and it's sights and neighborhoods might be the best yet as it comes after a few years of on again off again research and reading. I'll have a much better idea of what I am seeing.

 

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Beaucoup de French Kids

Up and out in good form this morning. Made it through our very fine breakfast and out the door to the British Museum not that long after it opened. That was a good plan as the museum just seemed to increasingly fill up as the day moved along.

I was mentioning to my loyal opposition that the one surprising thing about London is how few English people you run across hereabouts. I guess it makes sense that we tend to cluster around the tourist things, but perhaps this is the very first truly international city. It’s past, though, is thoroughly British Empire as we saw today with gallery upon gallery of the world’s archaeology. We took in some of the Assyrian and Greek stuff first off – including the Nereid tomb from Lycia (which has greater meaning having spent some time these past two summers in Lycia itself) and, of course, the Parthenon marbles. I enjoyed those and felt it is fine by me if UK holds onto those for now, my guide and contradictrice feels otherwise – but settling that one goes beyond the scope of my plans for this trip.

The museum itself was impressive. The dome that was built over the entire internal courtyard of the museum is really striking. The museum was thronged, unfortunately, with squads of little French kids being marched past things with “grand importance historique”. The English school kids wore dayglo green vests and seemed well managed; the French kids were more of a force – drumming on the sarcophagi or some of the teenagers smoking in the stairways. I’d imagine that smoking in a place like the Smithsonian is probably a felony now in the US – anyway, kids today…

I liked the early European galleries most of all. There was an intriguing exhibit of clocks and also lots of material from early Medieval or even stone age Britain. I was surprised to see what a large footprint the Byzantines had even in Medieval British art and artifacts. I gather their arts and artisans were sought after all through Europe.

We did not push the museum thing too far. The museums in the US – and particularly Boston – do a nice job with lots of the archaeological stuff as well – and the contemporary world beckoned. So, after a few hours of galleries we had a nice lunch down in the cafeteria and wandered out by foot and by tube to Trafalgar.

My memories and image of Trafalgar was of an utterly immense place, so I was surprised by its relatively modest scale. We spent a bit of time at St. Martin’s in the Field.

Probably the most remarkable thing today was tea at Claridge’s. This required swinging back by the hotel to put on a sport coat but it was a surprisingly nice experience. Nice tables in the back of the lobby, a five page menu of tea selections and a succession of little tea sandwiches, biscuits, little pastries are brought by the table over the space of an hour or so. Very nice place - mirrors, pianos playing with cellos, leather upholstering on the walls. Very nice and relaxing experience – my teas in Durham, NH are going to have to kick it up a notch starting with a bit more clotted cream, scones and black currant jam.

Also, I am happy to report more advances on the “getting around” front. The #13 bus is everything we need, running from next block on Baker Street down past Selfridges through Oxford Street and Oxford Circus down onto Regent Street, Piccadilly and Trafalgar – everything you need on one double decker run.

Photo: The Elgin Marbles in Lord Duveen’s Gallery at the British Museum

Where Am I?

Figuring things out.

I did not have much time these past weeks to read up on things London, so today was a nice day to get my bearings on the city. London hardly follows any sort of grid plan, and the thing with driving on the left is bound to create some confusion (I am looking both ways about five times before I even put a toe over the curb around here) – but made some progress.

Jet lag seems to be passing ok. Woke up very early as my travel companion had a “math problem” in setting her cell phone alarm – something about adding or subtracting five – but actually it was pretty hard to drag myself out of bed even at 8:30. Breakfast was a nice reward. It’s obviously included in the bed&breakfast idea, but it was good – nice croissant, eggs and Cumberland sausage, good black tea, marmalade, oj – all the things you might want from the English treatment.

We headed out on a journey by Underground down to the Tate Modern, although those trains were pretty slow today. As we poked up out of the hole and wandered down toward the millennium bridge we got distracted by the wonders of St. Pauls. In the end that turned out to be a more athletic event than religious and we climbed up the three series of ever narrower spiral staircases up to the very top of the dome. The views were magnificent and I got some nice photos there.

We only got to the Tate Modern in the afternoon – we grabbed a bit of lunch at some chain French café – a sandwich and a bowl of cappuccino. I gather the Rothko’s which are the big item there have been moved over to the Tate Britain – but we enjoyed a few galleries of contemporaries and abstract expressionism. The latter galleries were my favorites. They had some nice pieces of Jackson Pollock (Summertime) and a large panel of Monet’s water lilies. It was a nice visit – not my favorite chunks of the Western artistic tradition but it was fun to get some idea of what they were up to in their various ways as they rooted out and upset absolutely any kind of expectation one might bring to art. The last gallery involved things painted in blood which had (mercifully) faded to grey over the years. That was about my limit. I am looking forward to seeing the Turners over at the Tate Britain – maybe Wednesday as I think the British museum is on the itinerary for tomorrow.

It was fun walking around the Thames and downtown today. After the Tate we walked up and down Bankside a bit and grabbed a bus that took us down to the London Eye (the really huge Ferris wheel) and over across the Waterloo Bridge into the Strand and the theater district. We strolled through Covent Garden market and then got on one or two wrong buses (or buses going in the wrong direction) but, no matter, it was nice to check things out. We finally did make it back to Oxford Street and down Gloucester Place to the hotel. Found a nice neighborhood restaurant right here for dinner and took a stroll around this neighborhood after dinner. I spied two or three interesting pubs that might merit a second look.

The architecture of the city is really neat – an odd mix of old and really modern work. Especially downtown it seem every other building is trying to put the old stuff behind it with bulging curves of glass, metal skins and all manner of other odd features. It’s also fun to wander into these places I’ve heard about all my life but never actually seen (Bloomsbury, Blackfriars Bridge, Soho, The Strand, St. Martin’s in the Field, Covent Garden…).

So, I am happily being a tourist with an ever clicking camera and sore feet.

Photo: St. Paul’s figure from the door of the south entrance. The church was built after the fire in 1666, thus the Phoenix and the motto. I’ll also post a few pictures of the view from the the dome.

The Same only Different...

The Golden Horn blows again…

I wasn’t sure if I would blog this trip. After Moscow and Istanbul and the wilds of Turkey, merry old England seems pretty tame – especially the nicer bits of London, but here I am.

The flight was uneventful and as pleasan as one might expect except for the Icelandic volcano that did its fighting best to keep us home. Even before I headed off to Logan I had hear the flight was delayed from 7:45 until 11 PM because all the London planes were being rerouted around the plume. When we finally did get underway we flew straight north over Newfoundland and Labrador and off to the northern parts of Greenland before arching over Iceland and down across the Faroe Islands and the Orkney’s and on down to London.

No complaints with the flight and I even managed to sleep a bit more than I usually do. It was the least crowded fliht I've seen in about twenty years (only 151 on the plane). The Heathrow arrival and customs was also easy and we made it through and on into Paddington Station by train, and then by taxi to our hotel here in Marylebone on interestingly enough the address is: The Hart House on Gloucester Place….

We took a long walk this afternoon to stretch our legs and get some bearings. We went up through the southern edge of Regent’s Park and then back up Baker Street through Prospect Square and on up to Oxford Street with meanders through the food court at Selfridge’s, etc. Then we cut up to Hyde Park and took a stroll through Speaker’s Corner before collapsing footsore and jet lagged. This provided a good opportunity to figure our “how the bus works” – we have bought a very useful 25 Pound London bus, underground pass that is good for our entire week. So, we got the experience of riding along in the top of the double decker down Oxford Street.

I had spied an interesting Italian place earlier – and one that receives some good praise from the bulleting board here at our hotel- so after it all we parked it for a nice Italian meal. It’s not even eight and here we are back at the hotel thinking about how long we might manage to keep awake…fading fast.

This might explain the general lack of insight and wit that Golden Horn readers have come to expect and demand. My travel companion was rather freaked out by squirrels, pigeons and other little parkland creatures– perhaps I will expand on that soon, but so far so good.

Tomorrow? Probably one of these museums – maybe the Tates, or perhaps a run through the major downtown sites like St. Paul’s. Westminster, Churchill’s Bunker, etc.

I was surprised at how much I recognized particularly of Hyde Park around Marble Arch station from my long past trip here with Mom and Dad in 1977.

Photo: An interesting street sign reminding us of the prudence of NOT renting a car for our visit.

Grind

Moscow is not an easy town for tourism. As wonderful as our hosts have been this is a bit of a daily grind here. Many reasons for this:

1. Cyrillic: Graphically a beautiful alphabet and it adds a definite mystery to the place; it is fun to run across a Ctarpuk3 (or something like that) and find its really a Starbucks – but it can be dangerously inconvenient. This is because place names are pretty important in getting ones bearing in a new place. Even in unfamiliar languages you can pretty easily retain the idea that your metro stop is Marienplatz or Pont Neuf, but with Cyrillic you either remember a string of unfamiliar symbols (or a few of them) but there is always enough confusion and doubt to make you miserable wondering. Occasionally you will find transliteration into our alphabet, but that is pretty rare. Knowing the Greek alphabet helps, but really doesn’t make it. If you come to Russia, study Cyrillic on the plane ride in.

2. Signage: Not there. For example, after the ballet we went into the metro with Irena (one of our hosts) who knows but rarely uses the metro. We go into one of the larger downtown metro stops, likely one most frequently used by tourists because three or four of the lines come together in this station. So you enter and go down the usual impressive escalator and there is a platform – but not the correct line for us. Then there is a stairway to a lower platform; still not the right line. Irena is confused and asks the man in the box. Down the lower platform is a tunnel leading further on to another junction of several tunnels, and down some more stairs to another platform and up, through another tunnel to what actually turns out to be our desires line “3”. Absolutely none of this is marked. Had I been alone there would be absolutely no way I would have figured this out for myself. I would know (by staring at the Cyrillic) that this is the right train station; my map would have promised me line #3 but it would simply appear to be not there. You need to hope the man in the box (a) speaks English (highly unlikely) and (b) wants to help (not very likely). This brings us to the next difficulty:

3. Demeanor. The Russians I have met have been wonderful, kind, polite and friendly in every way. The street demeanor is a very different thing. Interestingly enough, during Kerry’s presentation yesterday she got the Russian students talking about stereotypes and one of the main points about Americans is how we go around grinning and nodding and smiling all the time and for absolutely no reason at all. So, we are as different from them as they are the other way. In crowds they do not speak – even crowded subways can be totally silent – and they tend to push on ahead (or through or cut into a line) with a kind of determined push. It does not send off any kind of a comforting vibe to the stranger, and one gets the impression they are ok with that. This might be one thing out in the districts, but it is equally the case in Red Square or Arbat Street or even with the staff in the tourist hotel.

4. Papers and Officials in Boxes: There is a great deal of official paper here. In some places you might be tempted to simply lose that extra form from behind your declaration form when you land at the airport. Better not do that here. There are additional pieces of paper certifying your residency at your hotel. Papers attesting the fact that you applied for and received your visa which you must keep with your actual visa (go figure….), pieces of paper that must be presented to the hotel staff along with your room key to get breakfast (more on breakfast – see below), papers to get you into the school. It is quite extraordinary. They are equally given to controllers who sit in boxes or behind little windows or turnstyles who will then dispute the efficacy of this paper. This happens even to Russians. For example, our host had to argue with the guard at the school to allows us to use one entrance to the school building rather than another (but later relented); the students with us at the Pushkin exhibit yesterday were turned away by the lady at the turnstyle because they should know better than to wear their jackets inside a building. There is a lot of paper; it all counts; its validity can always be rejected in which case one is plumb out of luck unless you are prepared to argue about things in Russian. There are people in boxes everywhere here, checking to make sure things are in official order and you can never assume their cooperation (even if your paper is in fact in good order). It is a place that like paper and likes bureaucracy.

On Friday, we are having a little ceremony for students here who have participated in Global Modules. Our hosts suggested that presenting students with a little certificate attesting to their participation and completion would be a nice thing. Scudder eagerly complies with this; inkjets and heavy paper make this an easy request to satisfy. But it puzzled me why this would be desired. The GMs are fine things, but they are really on the order of a class exercise and activity. Now I understand exactly where they are coming from; this culture likes official paper. If there is such a certificate at the end it does a great deal to legitimize most anything.

5. Food: I have known from some experience that Russian food can be quite good. I’ve had a few excellent bowls of borscht, the appetizers and dumplings that first night were very good. So, good stuff is out there – but not that reliably available. The food we have gotten at the hotel has been really dreadful – greasy, overcooked, dry – reliably bad. Out of an entire banquet running across and down two walls of the breakfast ball room, the only palatable breakfast items I can find are orange halves, and a kind of deep fried English muffin patty, perhaps a rather greasy crepe. The milk is warm; the vegetables boiled or heavily vinegared/pickled, the salami is greasy and tasteless; the bread is cheap and dry; the cheese is flavorless and has been left out too long. They proffer hot dogs as a kind of breakfast meat, and if you get one of the omelets it is unlikely to be fully cooked (see (3) above). Don’t hope for coffee – but the tea is good.

On the other hand, we have had some very good meals in restaurants – and I expect you will find they cook excellent things at home. They have some great recipes. I have become a fan of borscht. I understand their breads are exquisite. So, I suspect this really is a product of a reliable lack of quality in cheaper or medium priced public eateries. Much of what is proffered to the public as a prepared meal is pretty poor stuff. The best solution is to get back to basics. The orange half at breakfast is ok. Tea is a nice drink and it is hard to mess it up (although watch out for some of the cheaper fruited teas they set out). Sliced carrots, sliced cabbage or a bit of cucumber is what it is – and if you can find it reasonably fresh on the buffet, go for it. They also make a simple cooked wheat (or is it bulgur) which is fine and filling. Keep it simple and you are ok.

I’ve been at plenty of hotels with a breakfast bar that isn’t even trying – you see this as much in the States as anywhere. Still, usually a look around will find you a Starbucks or some bakery or shop that will proffer something decent and easy at a fair price; I don’t get the impression that is a reasonable expectation here.

6. Smoking. Nearly everywhere. Sitting in the hotel lobby checking email, your eyes begin to sting after about ten minutes. Tobacco smoke comes through the wall of the hotel – you can even distinguish between rooms with people smoking cigars and cigarettes. Even at the nicer restaurant people are likely to light up at the table next to you. It’s strange to think how far the US has come on this. Oddy enough, school is the one place where I do not see this; just the reverse of the States where campus is the one place that I see lots of smoking.

One of my travel mates has a friend who lives here. He says that Moscow is a great city, but points out there are a few things you need to work through - knowing a bit of cyrillic, getting used to a few different patterns of human interaction - and the city itself really is amazing.

Photo: This is one of the long long down escalators into the metro, which really does live up to its reputation as without a doubt the finest one you are ever likely to encounter. Every station is done up in a different architectural style and decoration. The trains run every two or three minutes. Police patrol it regularly and it is meticulously swept clean. Very nice.

School

This was a second day largely filled with school stuff. One more of those tomorrow but after that I think we have a bit more time scheduled for our own Moscow experience. Some of the students are going to take us around to some different parts of the city, take us shopping, and the Chair of the English Language department is having us over on Friday. Nice prospects.

Jen and Gary and I delivered our second and final student presentation this morning. So, I guess this is a good time to make a few remarks about the school and the students.

As I mentioned yesterday, the school is pretty run down. An old institutional place – actually an armed services academy that consists of about six or eight connected buildings. You can walk around the entire campus following indoor corridors and staircases. It looks as if a wall hasn’t been painted nor a length of flooring replaced in fifty years. There is obviously not a lot of money being passed around in state sponsored higher education in Russia.

That being said, this is actually one of the better funded schools. I gather it receives a great deal of interest and support from the current government as a hope for carving out some high end education for the first or second tier of students here in Russia. All of the students are required to have quite advanced abilities in English and one other language by the time they graduate, and the students do deliver on this requirement. Even the second year students have excellent English skills, and the third year students have really superior skills.

I’ve gotten something of a tutorial on how the state university system works. It is the state universities that really have the best reputation here (because they are supervised and quality checked by the state – clearly one different sort of attitude than we would find in the US). All of the state universities are really administered under this system. So, although there are local schools, smaller and larger, some (like the Higher School of Economics) with various campuses around Russia – they are all ultimately answerable to the state university system. So, they are not institutionally as distinct as, say, St. Mike’s and Champlain College. They are differentiated by their faculties (which refers more to the college and degree program, not the people teaching the college). Various schools will have an exactly defined program of study that takes you to exactly this small array of degrees. For the HSE this would include degrees in business, international business, finance, etc. The degree is a five year program, and my impression is that students begin it at a level slightly more advanced (academically if not by age as well) than US students.

The classes we have worked with have really been impressive. The students are completely attentive and engaged and engaging. You notice an initial hesitance, but once they start talking they have a lot to say. They are well informed. For example, the second year students understood points from the US Constitution like the electoral college. The third year students could give a succinct explanation of the Republican and Democratic party and were up to date on current issues. They are polite – have boundless energy – and seem to enjoy a really friendly, if slightly more formal relationship with their teachers.

So, class has this impressively energetic, focused and engaged feel to it despite the fact that the paint is practically falling of the wall. It is good testimony to the fact that a school is more than its facilities.

Since Sunday, we have been guided and ferried around Moscow by a nice group of third and fourth year students. They’ve met us at the hotel in the morning, driven us to restaurants at night, taken us on walks through Red Square and the Kremlin, gotten us to the Pushkin museum today – and generally been good company. Most of these are the students are coming to Vermont next month, so we’ll have the chance to return the hospitality.

I’ve been part of two presentations to students here and both of these I partnered with Jen Vincent and Gary Scudder. Yesterday we met with a second year class and talked broadly about differences between Russian and the US politically and socially. We asked them about their impressions of US culture and fielded their questions. This was much the case with another presentation today, only at a slightly more elevated level with the third year students. We talked a bit about health care policy – comparing the US and Russian systems, and I spoke a bit about the political dimensions of this recent legislation in the states. Jen was there to handle economic dimensions of these kinds of issues. In both cases, it was a good experience mostly because the students really were forthcoming with their own questions and reactions. I am quite impressed.

The Russian tuition system might be an encouragement here. I gather the size of a students scholarship/funding for education is largely determined by performance. Excellent grades are rewarded by substantial or complete scholarship funding; poor grades are met (if not with expulsion) with reduced support.

It’s this sort of connection with the school that makes this kind of travelling great; you get to interact with people you would never run across were I simply staying downtown and visiting Red Square or the Pushkin before touring along to St. Petersburg. We commute in and out from the college to the hotel with other Muscovites, and generally get something of an inside view of what goes on here.

My impression is that it is not all that easy to be a Russian these days – and that brings me to the topic of the Moscow grind. This is not an easy place to function – and for a tourist particularly so. Perhaps I will get into that more tomorrow.

Photo: Nope, not the school I am talking about. This is the entrance to one of the buildings off of Red Square. I haven't been taking pictures these past two days - so I'll make a point to carry my camera tomorrow.

Tutus

An exhausting but rather wonderful day. We tucked in to the business end of the trip. After another breakfast at the Soviet style breakfast bar – AND a quick check on the news to hear about the vote on the healthcare bill and the surrounding dramatics, we were met by Olga and Gradya(?) and guided through a busy metro line and a bit of a winding walk to the Higher School of Economics.

My first impression is that schools here have wonderful students and miserable facilities. I gather the school is located in a former Soviet military academy – and that maybe one part of it was an old palace with a staircase trodden by Napolean. The building/campus is remarkable for its size – if that is the way to describe this complex of connected buildings with corridors that go up and down and off at right angles without any limits that was able to see.

Katya and Irena – our real hosts – a professor and the Chair of the foreign language faculty at the school – met us at the top of one of those flights. It was a very friendly greeting; they have clearly put a lot of work into our visit.

This morning we saw a series of powerpoint presentations from one class of 2^nd year students introducing (in impeccable English) the school, the studies, the social life, a brief review of the curricula vitae of their Dean (whom we met subsequently). After lunch in the school “cantina”, Jen and I taught a class of second year students who were studying American politics and culture. Our aim is mostly to be here to answer their questions, so we did just enough introduction and presentation to get them talking about America and Russia and spent the hour talking about a variety of questions on everything from time management to gun control. We also did our Champlain thing by asking them to work in groups to answer some questions for us. Very easy, very forthcoming – and they even knew what the electoral college is. The only problem was that class wasn’t long enough. We were pulled out of it to go meet and talk with the Dean.

The Dean is a very important individual here. The school is really a new college organized to train economic and political scholars and leaders, and the Dean is really the director of the entire institution (another teacher, Boris, later on filled me in on how the universities are organized here). He has a long and quite distinguished career in politics and economic policy in the old Soviet Union and today he advises Putin. Also, my impression is that Russia is given to it hierarchies – and so he is treated with a great deal of deference around school. Our college President, let alone our Dean, should have it so good. So, we talked about education and geopolitics and our little Global Modules program for awhile.

Later in the afternoon, Scudder and Betsy made a presentation on the GMs to the language faculty and there was a nice reception.

Too much to write about… I’ll get back to my thoughts about the school and student later. The facilities really are run down; the insides look like a 1950s school that has received almost no upkeep for the last thirty years – grooves in the stairs, cracked linoleum, repaired repairs of fixes on the door handles – but the students seem extremely capable and hard working and friendly, and the faculty is also running at full tilt. An impressive place.

More on that later. Tonight we took a long walk through some spitting snow and a brief metro ride to the ballet to see “Swan Lake”.

This was my first ballet –and I went in a little worried because (1) I had done absolutely nothing to teach myself about what’s up in this (or any) ballet and I had meant to do that before coming here, and (2) I was really quite tired after a long day in unfamiliar places and quite a hike across strange territory and I heard.

It was really great. I honestly did not think I would be engaged in it for the full three hours but it was really fun to watch. The four swan dancers did there thing in the first act, there was that great ballroom scene in the third, the storm in the fourth – quite amazing to watch. I am entirely sold. The theater was beautiful and the dance was excellent (“one thing we are still proud of” Irena remarked).

An equally long and complicated walk back to the right metro stop – and here I am back again, hoping I can catch enough sleep to do it again tomorrow. Jen Vincent and I are teaching a third year class in the morning.

Photo: No new pictures yesterday. I'll bring my camera to school later this week to get some photos. This shot is of one of the folklore statues near the front of the Kremlin.

Downtown!

Very impressive day. We toured the major sites: Red Square and Kremlin as well as a “country house” of one of the old aristocratic families. The weather was such as it is in March (rainy, a kind of on and off drizzle) but the truth is that is much easier to take than bright sunshine of Istanbul in July.

The hotel breakfast this morning certainly had variety – but I’d say the Istanbul comparison might play the other way. I slept like the dead last night, about ten hours solid. So, I feel pretty much caught up with the local time. That was easy this trip. Around eleven Irena, one of our student guides, met us, along with Karina (from last night) and we were ferried off for a day of the sights.

This morning we went to an old county estate of one of the aristocratic families – Sheremetov. Interesting place. It was really an estate designed mostly around hosting large balls. At least the central hall seemed that way. I gather the family lived in some of the smaller building around the estate. There were chapels and various houses, orangeries, lodges clustered around immense gardens and landscaped ponds. The interior of the main house was especially nice for its parquet floors (amazing designs out of contrasting woods), and some other really nice pieces of furniture. The gardens and landscaping – again, this is a sloppy time in March – were left more to the imagination, but those were beautifully set out.

I’d have to say Red Square was the most impressive thing today. Perhaps that is because the pictures I’ve seen of it lowered my expectations. In reality the size of it and the way it is anchored by these spectacular buildings, each of which more or less command their own space and need a big setting, all made it enormously impressive. For example, St. Basil’s – the multi domed colorful church we’ve all seen in pictures – it’s really a spectacular building not only in its details but also its overall shape, it fills up a space like Red Square very nicely.

The Kremlin wall runs down one side. This is the place that we know from the old photographs of the politburo lined up near the wall by Lenin’s tomb for the May Day parades. The other side is dominated by the GUM (pronounced “goom”) or State Department Store. Amazing place. I’ve seen these very old glassed covered arcade malls before, but never on this scale. There are three tiers of stores rising up on mezzanines joined by arched iron work scrolled bridges covering two long arcades of high end shops and cafes. We stopped there for a coffee and pastry late in the morning – very nice.

After wandering by St. Basil’s Cathedral, Lenin’s Tomb , a perpetual flame monument for the World War II dead, and a kind of flowing pool filled with sculptures depicting various Russian folk tales and fables, we got to the Kremlin around four in the afternoon. That gave us some time to explore some of the sites there – particularly the Church of the Annunciation used by the old royal family. This was an intensely decorated, although rather small, interior crammed floor to dome with beautiful wall paintings and an enormous iconostasis of old and beautiful icons. In the church of the Archangel, across the way, you have the tombs of many of the Czars and other Russian royals.

We had dinner at a buffet place just off Red Square which offered a chance to try a variety of different dishes, which was nice. I am very impressed with what the Russians do with dumplings – all kinds of filling and sauces.

On the way home I got my first glimpse of the impressive – both by reputation AND (I can now say) in fact – Moscow subway. The stop by Red Square (Kruschkaya?) was lined with marble and filled with bronze sculptures (mostly military themes).

So – as you can tell – today was a rush of new sights and impressions, an excellent way to start. Again, it makes a huge difference to have these students helping us around. I don’t get the sense that Moscow makes a point to cater to tourists, so having someone to point out how to make it through the subway, etc. is a big help. The guide books say it makes a big difference to learn a little about Cyrillic letters before coming here, and unless you have guides like these, that does make a big difference. The little Greek I once studied helps with some of the letters (think “rho” not “p”) but that only goes so far. In most strange places the sound and spelling of the words is usually all to clue you need to get by, but here – without familiar letters – that doesn’t work. The help has been essential.

Tomorrow will be nice in a different way. We finally get over to the college and get a chance to talk to some students and teachers in their classes – and that will be fun.

Photos: The top picture is of the interior of the GUM arcade (built in the 1890s) just below that are some of the domes of St. Basil's Cathedral.

First Things

As I write this, our first full day in Moscow begins. We arrived here yesterday around mid-day, which left enough of the rest of the day available to get settled into the hotel and form some first impressions, and have a great first dinner at the David Denisov (Denis Davidoff) Restaurant –chosen for its most traditional Russian fare. Our hosts have been wonderful. It’s nice to have a landing like this really well managed – and they’ve been great.

The flight over on Aeroflot was fine – about as comfortable seats as you can expect from any coach level service, movie screens behind each seat. I think I must have even been able to sleep a bit as those wee small hours seemed to pass fairly quickly. On landing passport control was pretty quick (contrary to what the guide books prepared us to expect) and ALL the bags made it here from Vermont in good condition – so, good travel.

Nikita – a fourth year student at the college met us and with impeccable English distributed maps, metro passes, contact phones as we piled into a van for a trip to the hotel. The Ismail Beta is where we are staying. It’s part of an enormous hotel complex built for the 1980 Olympics (and, now that the US is fighting its war in Afghanistan hopefully our visit here will make up for that bit of Olympic history). The hotel is good – nice rooms, wifi is free in the lobby and you can also pay for an in rooms service, there is breakfast buffet included – everything we need.

The drive in from the airport was pretty long, though, and the van was hot – I am actually forming the general impression that Russians like to keep building warm. The weather seems to be a wet mid-thirties, which is ok but we are often warned to bundle up. It is not a particularly pretty time of year – grey brown snow melting into slush and wet ice doesn’t make anything look great, but this notwithstanding I am forming some good first impressions of the place.

As Nikita points out, Russians live in apartment blocks. This conjures in our minds immense Soviet towers and pavement- and perhaps you can find some of that, but actually what I am seeing is more like five or ten story building arranged around green spaces like a college campus. I am eager to get a look at the city center (I will be heading there in about fifteen minutes).

Rather than succumbing to the temptations of an afternoon jet lag nap, Scudder and I wandered off to some of the shopping spots behind the hotel. Nikita came with us just long enough to make sure we knew where things were and helped us change some cash. We looked at a few shops and got ourselves a bowl of borscht - the standard beet and cabbage soup – which was really quite good. On the way back to the hotel – leaping over icy puddles of snow melt – we negotiated buying a few bottles of water (voda) in a little store nearby that sells mostly cakes, candy and dried fish. Feeling flush with accomplishment and interaction we got back to the hotel in time to clean up for our dinner rendezvous.

Dinner was wonderful. Two more student guides met with us – Karina and Dennis – second year students at the college. They drove or taxied us to the restaurant and pointed out the especially Russian things on the menu. The best thing I had was called a “two pea” soup – which actually did involve a few types of peas,but mostly it was like a good leek and potato soup and had a nice grilled lamb chop set right in the soup bowl. My kind of soup. Then an entree of a kind of stuffed dumpling, pirogi, garlic toasts – a nice Czech lager – trying other people’s stroganoff – all good stuff!

All in a very nice start! Made it back to the hotel around 10 PM and slept like a log until 8:30 this morning. Actually, I feel pretty much with the time zone right now – a successful transition.

Today, I am just about out the door right now for the big turista day: Red Square. Keep tuned for more later – and pictures.

Photo: This is above an entrance to the Church of the Annunciation in the Kremlin.

Idlewilde

It begins: an entirely new direction for the Golden Horn. Balanced blogging requires some exploration of the other side, and here is an opportunity to explore the ancient rivals of the Turks – the Russians.

It was an easy take off this morning. Went into the office for an hour or so before hitching a ride to the airport. The one irritation of this getaway is that we are expecting temperatures in the 30s or 20s in Moscow with snow melting into slush. Burlington Vermont, on the other hand, was expecting to shatter some warm weather records – maybe even get up to seventy. So, it felt sad to haul out the winter coat and fleece vest and generally get ready to bundle up again. Almost left the coat in Burlington airport, so perhaps there is some subconscious resentment about that too – but the trip promises to be fantastic.

Easy flight down. The plane was filled with a track team from Middlebury heading out to SanDiego – who were busily doing online library research in the airport and competed with each other over crossword puzzles on the flight down (students like this do exist?). Other than the man in front of me with the tattooed bald spot on his head (the track team thought that was pretty cool) – nothing remarkable.

So, here we sit for our long layover in JFK airport. Scudder, Jen and I got some good work done on one of our presentations – Kerry and Betsy doing much the same for theirs. Our flight is direct to Moscow on Aeroflot (the track team had enthusiastic recollections of Aeroflot apparently because it distributes free alcohol regardless of age). Hopefully it will be a comfortable flight and I will not arrive too fried, but generally I do not agree with long air flights overnight.

I am still getting clear about the schedule of what is coming up over the next week. I believe we are met at the airport in Moscow and taken to our hotel which was constructed for the Moscow Olympics and had the notability of being the largest hotel in Europe (something like 4000 rooms). We can do a little sight seeing or perhaps just catch up on sleep; some sort of dinner is arranged for Saturday evening.

My impression is that most days we have four or five hours of sessions with students in classes or perhaps with faculty; perhaps another two or three formal receptions of various types, but this should leave us some additional time to see the city both on our own and with some guidance from our hosts. The chief soiree should be the Bolshoi ballet dancing Swan Lake on Monday.

This is also the end of a very busy week. Lots to do at school, so I have not really had the time to think much about what is coming up although yesterday I was finally feeling that growing travel excitement.

OK – time to go find some kind of lunch/dinner meal so we can have a good bite before the flight. Next stop: Moscow.

Topkapi & Out

July 17, Friday: Istanbul: Time to let things wind down. Yesterday was a really busy day. We spent some excellent hours at Topkapi, and the later afternoon was mostly about getting ready to leave. This trip was a nice length -and the pause in Cirali in the middle of it all made it really work nicely. I am ready to not have to think too much about planning where to go each day; it will be nice to get home. Unfortunately, there is a long travel day in front of us. I think we pretty much stay at 4:30 PM (by the sun) for seven or eight hours.

That visit to Topkapi was really nice. We followed the plan from last year and were at the outer gate of the park (Babuhumaniye?) fifteen or twenty minutes before it all opened. If you play things just right, you can feel you have the place nearly to yourself for about one hour before the crowds really begin to flow into the palace. Also, we honed right in on the Harem (a seperate tour inside the palace), and that worked out perfectly. We effectively had the best rooms there to ourselves. Also, the basic layout of the palace made a lot more sense to me this time. You could see the hierarchical zones of eunuchs, concubines, Favorites, Valide Sultan (mother), Crowned Princes, Sultan with successively nicer hallways, courtyards and baths for each. My favorite place was the reading room off the chambers of Murad III (room designed by our hero, Sinan) – a beautifully ornamented, smaller sunny place overlooking all the waterways of Istanbul.
Topkapi is all about successive zones of beauty and privacy; it's not a European palace designed to overwhelm you with enormous galleries ornamented to impress. The rooms, although elaborately and beautifully decorated, are fairly small. The quantity of space that even a Sultan occupies is not that great. Meanwhile, in classic Ottoman style the inside flows onto the outside in many different gradations. It takes some imagination to recreate what the place would have been like when the many pools and water fountains were operating, and everything was draped with carpets and cushions.

We even had the time and endurance to make it through some of the museum galleries, seeing the clothing and jewels of the Sultans and the the vast collection of relics. I understand the clothing of the royals was considered nearly sacred. For generations (200 years, in fact) after he died, Suleyman's tomb was draped with his kaftans and turbans. The jewels were remarkable, although I must admit this stuff is not something I find particularly amazing. The “Spoon diamond” (one of the largest) was so called because it was found in a garbage pile and sold to a dealer for a few wooden spoons before being brought to the palace. Then there was the Topkapi dagger – and so it goes as you file past little case after little case.

The relics were much the same sort of experience. Was it the arm bones of John, the sauce pan of Abraham – or was that Abrahams arm and skull and John's staff – or Moses'. There also was also a run of gutterpipe from the Kabbaa – and a magnificent case you could view from two rooms away that contains the cloak of the Prophet.

Religion is incompatible with material reality. The world is truly composed merely of concepts. Sensation only particularlizes the abstract – nothing more.

An expensive but pleasant lunch just off the Hippodrome -then a nap and a scramble to pick up some turista stuff, and a goodbye at the carpet store where we had a pleasant talk about the Carpet biz with our guy, now that all the buying was (almost) done. Dinner at Buhara(?) 93, just down the street, another superlative salad and plate of roast meats.

This completes the 2009 edition of The Golden Horn. We will see what 2010 brings. My faithful assistant is already lobbying for a return. He feels he has invested too much work and practice into his Turkish language skills to simply leave things rest here. I am open to this, but my feeling is we need new travel companions. Now, having figured out the central mysteries of practical life here, we need to start our career as tourguides.

Most Remarable Thing: Well, when we were on the Sultan's pavilion, just outstide the Circumcision Kiosk, one of the tourists hauled off and kicked another in the pants. Delicacy forbids that I dwell on this or the ensuing brawl and arrests, but honesty demands that it was quite remarkable. It also reminded me of the aggravations of tourism. At that moment I decided that my travel experience had reached some sort of completion (depletion?).

Photo: Topkapi. This is the back of the Throne Room that is located just inside the Gate of Felicity where the Sultan received Ambassadors and other state visitors. The design and decoration shows the general ornamentation and feel of the palace.

Galata

July 15, Wednesday / Istanbul: Oddly enough, getting back to 'stam boul feels a bit like getting home.

The flight was only about an hour and presented some nice views of the country below, especially the bit where we came in over the Marmaris Sea.

Today we were intent on getting to Topkapi palace - but even within forty minutes of the opening the place was filled with tour busses. I noticed it is closed on Monday and Tuesday, so I think (hope) that Wednesday might be an especially crazy day. Anyway – we hit the eject button and decided to take advantage of a nice day to take a walk through Galata.

This involved the metro rail across the Galata bridge and the funicular up to Taksim Square. Galata is located on the steep incline of a hill between the north coast of the Golden Horn and Taksim square.

It's an interesting place. Essentially, it is this traditional Italian (Genovese) town that has always been the seamy world of trade and commerce balancing the serenity and pieties of the palaces, mosques, and churches across the water. This is the place the Ottoman Sultans came to take on so much debt and such high interest that it effectively broke the Empire.

Again – not learning my lesson from our guided stroll through Balat and Fener – we attempted
another one of the guided walks from the book. It is no more possible to know where you are on a map in Galata than in Balat. That's a kind of interesting fact about Istanbul. Even the taxi drivers need to ask directions and look at their gps systems. But the idea was “go downhill” and that worked for us. We did manage to catch a few of the listed sites from the book along the way. One of these was the Dervish lodge, an interesting old Catholic Church, a synagogue (with an exterior, I must observe, like a Brinks armored truck, apparently enough of that kind of religious tension exists to keep the Jewish congregation concerned). Of course, the Galata tower was the big item halfway down the hill. It is set in a kind of convergence of roads winding down the hill, surrounded by cafes, sleeping street dogs, and old Ottoman fountain. Below that you get into the banking section, and finally a market area down by the water.

I like these walks through the city – and this really is a city of neighborhoods. I think if I were to live here for some time, Galata would be a nice choice. It has a quieter feel – mostly due its narrow streets - and is close to the water and the big sights of the Sultanahmet across the estuary, yet it remains its own small place. The hill would keep you healthy. It might also be a nice place to stay even for a shorter visit – there was a nice looking hotel right there at the foot of Galata Tower.

Galata has always been a kind of counterpoint to Istanbul. It is a city of Italians and Catholics and Jews in a traditionally Islamic and Ottoman city. It even predates the fall of Constantinople and was recognizably its own concern back in Byzantine times. People like to say that Constantinople is where Europe meets Asia -but I think that specifically and practically really took place in Galata. That is where all the big Italian trading firms, banks and finance really brought the European world to the Sublime Porte.

Lunch at the old Kofteicisi – I've been there three or four times this year and last. This is an old fixture dating from the 1920's(?) where white coated waiters bring out plates of salad and kofte (lamb/beef grilled meatballs) with a special red pepper sauce. It's a wood panelling, brass fixtures, marble table top kind off place with lots of old pictures and letters from all the Turkish notables across the walls.

After that – back to the hotel for the usual afternoon down time, and then off, once again, to the Arasta Bazaar to kill some time with the carpet merchants.

Tomorrow is our last full day in Turkey. We really need to get to Topkapi and Aya Sofia.




Most Remarkable Thing: The city really is a city of neighborhoods and interestingly enough even the markets throughout the city specialize. For example, the top of Galata is filled with music stores – if you want a guitar or drums, that's where you find it. Lower down, this is the mechanical and electrical parts place for all of Istanbul. Clothing is purchased on the other side of the Golden Horn on the streets that fall down from the Grand Bazaar (which sells exclusively tourist trinkets) to Eminonu. Pet food is in the blocks outside the Spice Bazaar where you can also find plants. Pots, pans and metal work is near the Suleymaniye Mosque. Whatever product you care to name – eyeglasses, lawn mowers, air fresheners ,garden hoses, bicycle tubes – I am sure it has a specific address here.




Photo: Galata Tower.

Olympos

July 13, Monday / Cirali: Finishing three perfect beach days. Days one and two were exclusively devoted to the kind of beaching stuff that really needs no description. Today we did find the motivation to walk down to the end of the beach in order to look around the ruins of Olympos.

Olympos was founded – nobody really knows when – perhaps the second or third century BCE. They knew it had some prominence back when Lycia was Lycia (when?). Absorbed by the Romans, the Byzantines, the Genoans, and ultimately the Ottomans. I gather the place effectively died out as a city around the 15th century. An odd sort of history – it picks up in the middle of things and ends in the in-between as well. Just goes to show reality does not always follow the chapters of the history books.

What was neat about Olympos was that this was a city largely unexcavated. Unlike a place like Caunos (last year) where all the old foundation stones were pretty well layed bare and you could see the outlines and the streets of everything- this place had the feel of the ruins among the vines and weeds as they might have looked back in the nineteenth century before most people bothered to care about these things. Here were all these walls and pillars in the forest – make of them what you will....

The hike was also nice. It involves a long walk down the beach and then up along a trail following a little fresh water stream. My impression is that a lot of people access the beach this way, so there is an odd mix of relaxed Turks dragging their coolers and kids to the beach and earnest tourists clambering around looking at the stones.

This break in Cirali has been really nice. Most days we've gotten to the beach for an hour or so in the later morning and again in the late afternoon or early evening. Each day we've had dinner at a restaurant somehow associated with the hotel – but a nice place, and my assistants efforts at Turkish have endeared him to the waiters, so we are nicely treated there. We finished things out tonight by splitting one half of a large fresh fish (a grouper pulled from the sea – we are assured – earlier today).

Not much to say about beach life. I think perhaps the beach is an unsung cultural constant – a refutation of relativism. Every place, every culture and religious or ethnic group no matter how distinct in other ways seem to relate to the beach in exactly the same fashion. There is something about the waves and the sun and the semi-nudity that simply undercuts concepts and ideologies of all sorts. It is the triumph of percepts over concepts.

Tomorrow, however, we fly back to Concept Land – we should be in Constantine's City in the later afternoon provided we find our plane on Antalya set and ready to go. Our time here is dwindling. I have two or three more “must sees” in Istanbul (Topkapi, Hagia Sophia, Galata) – some shopping. We will be back in Boston on Friday evening.

Most Remarkable Thing: When you dive under the water here, there is this high grinding sound from the zillions of little round stones rolling over on each other in the surf. It's sort of like a really soothing dentists drill – if that sort of sound is conceivable.

Photo: The signs say this is part of a Roman temple, but my own eyes and my guidebook say that is a mistake. This is a gate to the Roman city of Olympos.

Idyll

July 11, Saturday / Cirali: Our first fully leisured day here at the beach. It's pretty sweet. We arrived yesterday after an hour transfer out of Antalya and a winding descent down to the sea.

Cirali really is not a town; it's a beach. The only town part is a few shoebox size stores in among the little hotels, pansiyons and campgrounds bellying up to the beach. Most of the hotels also have restaurants right behind the beach – so life here is designed to be lived in your swim suit (maybe).

And that is pretty much all you need to know about today. The scenery is great. Our hotel is situated in this garden about a five minute stroll down a stone and dirt path to the beach. The gardens (see photo) are spectacular. The beach itself is mostly rounded pebbles at the shoreline but it drops off to eight or ten feet deep within about a yard or two of the shore. The water is wonderfully clear.

So, these days are pretty much devoted to rest, reading, naps and ocean swimming. The room at the hotel provides some nice air conditioning when the heat of the day is really roaring. There is some humidity but its broken by a nice ocean breeze. We have breakfast in the garden up here – perhaps tomorrow I will try making some of that tea from some local herb (maybe sage) that grows up on the mountain. The water is warm – nothing like the Puritanical challenge of the New England swimming I am used to – but very pleasant. The long chairs and umbrellas are free (from the hotel) and there is always a cold beer at one of the cafes behind the beach.

The only challenge, really, is not getting sunburnt – but my eight or ten tubes of spf 70 seem to be holding up well- as is my Orhan Pamuk novel, My Name is Red, a intrigue of love, murder and the philosophy of art, set in 17th c. Istanbul. I tend to like fiction with philosophical/theological undercurrents. It takes place in the world of the Sultan's miniaturists, illustrators and book guilders.. Islamic tradition forbids the creation of idols, which broadly interpreted means the very existence of image making is broadly suspect. This is why the Ottoman aesthetic runs to calligraphy and geometrical design. You should see some of the wood carving patterns you see in all the old palaces and mosques; it's really eyecatching – this seemingly chaotic variation of shapes and lines that spring up out of the simplest principles overlayed on each other.

So, that's about all I have to say about that. Maybe I'll include an extra photo this time as this is definitely a more visual and less conceptual sort of place.

Most Remarkable Thing: OK – it's time to praise salad. What the Turks do with vegetables is wonderful – it really eclipses the parade of grilled meats here. This evening we had this mix of green beans, carrots, beans, in a light oil based tomato dressing. They like to always add a little bit of heat to their salads and vegetables, so they do a lot with peppers. Then there is that roasted eggplant with a little oil and garlic slices – and the always perfect parade of tomatoes and cucumber (my shaman vegetable) that is always on the side of everything. I wonder if US customs is ok with olive oil? At times it seems as if the entire Anatolian peninsula (except for those mountains I described yesterday)is one big vegetable garden. This would be an easy place to get meat out of your life. I had a vegetable pide (think a long eye shaped pizza ) for dinner- covered only with roast vegetables.

Photos: Above is a nice shot of the garden outside our bungalo. Below see Cirali beach, looking north.