After Aphrodisias we set off to find a campsite and stopped for shepherds with their crooks grazing their goats and sheep in amongst the Roman ruins, much as they have always done.
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| Mum is shepherding while sitting up on the knoll |
So many country folk spend much of their day with a dozen or so of their animals in this part of the world. Life must be so slow for them; so very close to nature.
We found a restaurant that allowed camping in the garden, so we parked on their concrete dance floor in under the trees, and as nothing was operational for the summer yet we had the place to ourselves, including all the amenities. One of the helpers bought us over a table and chair for three, hot apple tea, and lots of hand kisses for me. Very welcoming. And before we used the bathroom and shower the next morning it was all completely cleaned by two different burly fellows, mops in hand. Lovely country service. We still don’t understand why there were so many staff when the restaurant was not yet open for the summer. Some things remain complete mysteries to us, without the language to ask.
We had not driven 10 minutes heading over the mountains for Bodrum the next morning when the van broke down again. Something snapped, Pete said, and black smoke belched out the side of the vehicle as it lost momentum. We pulled over and phoned our hire camper contact with the last of the money on our prepaid sim to let him solve the problem as before; then dealt out the cards and spent the next hour with Bec whipping us at Black Mariah, among the forestry and rubble on the side of a great mountain.
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| Broken down along a back road |
Two technicians came in a small car and after poking around under the bonnet for a short while said what we think meant: we had a problem that they couldn’t fix and we would need to be towed to the nearest town. Which we had expected , so were not too surprised.
They then sat down and had a cigarette on the side of the road. But after only a few drags of nicotine one of them snapped his fingers, dived under the van, and came up smiling. He sent his apprentice over to their dusty car to pull off some clamp from their innards. This he fitted to ours. The apprentice then wired something into theirs as a replacement. The mechanic then drove us off, with the apprentice following, and our van appeared fixed as the smoke had disappeared and we were moving.
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| Even mechanics have tea breaks |
About 15 kilometres further on he stopped at a small village that had a series of very busy workshop bays for fixing cars along the side of the road. Where on earth did all these disabled cars come from? There was hardly any traffic on our road at all. There, our man must have bought a dedicated part from them, as we think he installed that while we all were given tea — a must! and delicious! — and he must have taken back his own clamp and re-installed that in his car, as well. We’re not sure, we were side-tracked with the tea. Anyway, we were all fixed in under two hours; with lots of smiles, hot tea and more hand kisses. And the 80TL ($AUD40) it cost is to be refunded by the company. So, a good outcome with very little hassle.
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| Each bay has a mechanic busy with a breakdown |
As we filled up with diesel on the edge of town we noticed the gas station had a small prayer room, a Mesquit, behind the hotel with Bay for men; and Bayan for women on it. At first we thought they were toilets, but on opening the door found the tiny Mesquits with their ablutions alcove, slip on shoes, prayer rugs, and worry beads. For travellers, I guess. Very thoughtful.
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| Mesquit at gas station |
By now, it was lunch time so at the first place that offered food we stopped; the van, again, was running smoothly. As usual, the restaurant was staffed by men: always a dedicated oven man in charge of the burning log fire.
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| Delicious chicken casserole in clay pot |
They had dried peppers, eggplants, chilli and tomatoes hanging on a rack that we were admiring, and after we’d ordered lunch from their food photos, they bought over plates of the dried chilli and eggplant for us to sample.
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| Dried produce |
We ordered and our table ended up laden with a veritable feast: chicken casserole in a clay dish; meatball and cheese in onion and tomato sauce in another terracotta dish; both fired in the bread oven and a spinach and feta pide.
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| Slices of tomato, dried then powdered |
All freshly made and hot from the oven, along with masses of plain sliced bread, a delicious salad dressed with lemon; and more tea, plus a big whole wheel of fresh bread that will last us three days.
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| Fresh bread |
All for $AUD18 in total. I do not know how they do it.
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| Our delicious lunch |
Lunch over we headed off after more hand kisses, and thanks. There were six or seven long mountain climbs in front of us before we got back to the coast. The roads here are good, and getting even better, as construction is going on constantly. Enormous mountains of soil and rubble have been gutted to build and rebuild them. The Turks seem to be accomplished at all sorts of building and engineering from days long past. The only trouble is that occupational health and safety is not seen as a real issue here yet in many of these Mediterranean countries; at least, not to the extent that it is enforced in Australia; so great slabs of roadway at the edge of the shoulders often just fall away very raw, often with a drop of feet, without any warning sign or cautionary boundary guard rails present. So, to avoid tyres being slashed, or falling off the side of the road, you do need to take extra care even when the roads are good.
We’d been noticing that all the houses around have great woodpiles made from branches of fine trees; and they all have vegetable gardens, often under tunnelled canopies of plastic. We stopped for a quick photo. But, it wasn’t that quick.
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| Twig wood piles and vegetable garden in each plot |
Out came the owner and wanted to be in the photo, too. He, then, insisted that Pete follow and showed him into one of the rooms in the house which turned out to be a little mini-bread making factory. Clearly what the ladies spend a lot of time doing during the day: they are busy making bread.
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| All the family females hard at bread making |
In great rounds, as big as the saç on the wood fire.
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| She rolls this as large as the saç |
The bread dough is sectioned and rolled deftly on and off the long coned roller; each of the ladies having dedicated tasks. A wee production line.
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| Moving from one to the other to the flame |
And we were sent away with a wacking great weight of bread rounds wrapped in newspaper as a gift for calling.
All without understanding a word of either language.
Amazing hospitality.
Back into the van we go, and as it is still functioning well, we head off into the mountains.
oooOOOooo
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