Froth and foam

Ölüdeniz is famous for its blue lagoon, which, when the sun shines, is amazingly blue. The lagoon was formed by a sandbar developing between the still water and the ocean, leaving the back water still. Or dead, as its name literally means "dead sea".

Tour boats pulling up on the beach

Our campsite was on a reedy part of the lagoon, still and gloomy looking under stormy skies, which harked back to the days of malaria-ridden mosquitos, so we were not drawn to stay too long thereabouts.

Like Göcek, Ölüdeniz is a purpose built town of small apartments, hotels, restaurants, tour operator shops, paragliding kiosks, and market stalls filled with tourist tat.

Beads, bits and bobs for the tourists

While Göcek is developing as a sailing hub, Ölüdeniz, with its high surrounding mountains is the heart of paragliding territory in this part of the world, so draws its fair share of extreme sport enthusiasts, it seems.

They haven't quite solved their power problems in Ölüdeniz as yet, as while we were there the power went out, and noisy generators came on. The power was still not on next morning, and as we walked around town after coffee, we noticed all the hotels and restaurants had their own generators operating out of covered sheds in back yards, and trucks were delivering more diesel to run them.

Most of the restaurants were running on generators

Menu signs advertising "chip butty" and "scampi and chips" were common, too, so clearly this is another hangout for the young and the British.

As are most of the newish towns on this Mediterranean coast of Turkey, we are discovering. Later, we passed Kalkan, chock full of apartments all new, all freshly painted white and appealing under the sun, all tumbling down the mountain to the Mediterranean, and practically all the signage, even the street signs, were in English. No Turkish at all on some of the shop signs.

Kalkan with so many empty second home apartments

Yet so many of these apartments seemed to be closed up at this time. Their inhabitants elsewhere for the moment.

And with something like 30 million foreign tourists visiting Turkey each year it is not surprising that a goodly number of those tourists would be British, hankering after their butties and bacon, rather than gözleme and köftes.

As well, over 30,000 British folk own homes in Turkey, and we're guessing that the majority of those not in Istanbul would be owned along this coast. And, more likely second homes; even more likely, apartments. We've run into several British couples enroute who own apartments here in Turkey. They fly in and fly out three or four times a year they say, for about two weeks at a time. Many hire a car at the airport to get to and from from their apartment and to use during their stay.

As in Spain and France this British invasion of the second home dweller continues here in Turkey. But, as we have seen in other European countries, the demand for such real estate lessens over time. In fact, with interest rates decreasing in many of these countries, living away from home is becoming more expensive, less attractive, and we hear of more and more Brits selling their retirement properties and returning home. Or to Bulgaria, where apparently living is cheaper and return on your investment monies is still higher.

So, it is to be hoped that Turkey is not drawn to spend too much on purpose-built towns for foreigners, as these trends tend to come in waves.

And disappear, just as quickly, leaving only the froth and bubble.

oooOOOooo