Milas Olive Harvest Festival

The first serious downpour of the winter on Saturday put pay to my plans to visit the Milas Olive Harvest festival, but the Sunday weather was much more forgiving and just after mid-day, we joined the crowds amongst the stalls in the centre of Milas.

First purchase had to be olives, not your run-of-the-mill ones but olives dyed red with beetroot and purple with blueberry. Why would different coloured olives suddenly be a thing? Who knows but I bought some and they will brighten up my breakfast plate.

Next up was organic lavender oil (I am pretty sure all lavender is organic as it doesnt need pesticides or growth enhancers) at 200 tl a bottle - I should be sleeping peacefully for the next few months.

Turkish spicy sausages or maybe a tractor; green, blue or orange with plenty of deals from different banks offering two years interest-free credit, with our inflation rate that's not a deal to be ignored. I was very tempted by the tiny tractor but if I got one I would have to start cultivating my acre of garden and I'm too lazy for that. (I don't like the sausages so could easily walk past that stall)

A stall of mangos, kefir limes, papayas and things I didn't even recognise gave me reason to stop and chat and find out that there is a farm in Yahşi growing exotic fruit and vegetables. A trip to Iso Baba'nin Çiftliği will be on the cards soon. It's strange that I had to go to Milas to find out there is such a place close to Bodrum.

A return to the familiar a bit further on. Sesame seeds being poured into this grinder to make tahini; a pantry must-have which is even tastier when fresh.

Having recently returned from Ayvalik which you can't drive through without buying litres of olive oil, I didn't need any more for my kitchen but this Mystic stall had such temptingly well packaged bottles of oil, herbs to go in the oil and dishes to serve the oil that the Christmas present buying list was reduced by three.

Holiday - Grand Yazici Club Marmaris Palace

The travel operators in the UK must be psychic. Mid season they announced that they were extending the charter flight season to the first third of November. Usually they finish at the end of October. When I heard that my nephew and his family had booked to come out on 30th October I was very worried that they would spend the week sheltering from rainy showers and shivering by the sea but no, the weather has been perfect; warm enough to swim and sunbathe. Esi and I joined the family at the Grand Yazici in Marmaris, an all-inclusive hotel which was full of families taking a half term break. I've never stayed in a AI before but I can see the attraction. The food was great, the room comfortable, the views amazing and every member of staff I encountered was friendly and helpful. It was nice to see so many smiley faces - rather lacking in Bodrum hospitality this year.

The hotel is between Marmaris and Içmeler, both of which can be reached by a seaside path and cycle route. A welcome way to clock up 10,000 steps to work off over indulginging in the desserts.

The view of empty sandy beaches reminded me of the first time I sailed into Marmaris from Rhodes in 1981; I remember the stunning fiord like mountains and and deserted bays and then Marmaris town with a few boutiques, bars, restaurants and a crumbling castle. No marinas and very few hotels.

With my back to Icmeler, looking out to sea I could almost have gone back 43 years.

The Bodrum Cup

An annual event which I haven't paid enough attention to over the past 35 years, which is shameful as I was put in a boat at 5 years old and taught to sail by my father, and I sailed into Bodrum on a 71 ft ketch in 1981 expecting to spend a few days and ending up spending most of my life here. I kept my connection to the sea for a couple of decades but once we closed our yachting agency, my time spent sailing got less and less. On Saturday, thanks to Internations and Bayside day boat, I got to watch a little bit of the last leg of the Bodrum Cup and instead of feeling regretful that I didn't sail anymore, I remembered the frustration of wind shifts, anchors dragging at two in the morning, aching arms from winding winches, stubbing my toes on the windlass, those lonely night watches and shouty captains. It was good to watch others doing it though.

Ten years ago I wrote this blog about actually taking part in the action:

>Bodrum Cup Silver Anniversary - In the winter of 88/89, I worked as an English teacher in a small agency in Bodrum called Era Yachting. The mild mannered owner, Erman Aras, was one of the nicest bosses I've ever worked for; always smiling and pleasant, thoughtful and innovative, he made my 6 month placement very enjoyable. While I was there, I overheard him discussing plans to start a sailing race at the end of the season. As an ex-yachtie I was a bit sceptical as everyone knew that the classic Bodrum yacht called a gulet was not a sailing vessel, some of them didn't even have sails and those that did, would only hoist the canvas on a long downwind cruise and anyway, Bodrumites were seafarers but not traditional sailors. Erman Bey thought differently and the first Bodrum Cup took place in October 1989. It has happened every year since and this October celebrated its Silver Anniversary. Era Yachting Club went on to start Optimist sailing classes for Bodrum children, some of whom have gone on to international sailing success, and the first ever Sail Training Ship in Turkey was built in Bodrum; on Sunday, I watched it power ahead to win honours at this year's Bodrum Cup. If Mr Aras was a Brit, he would surely have an MBE by now.

I started to write this post on Friday, regretting the fact that due to work commitments or bad planning, I had never taken part in a Bodrum Cup, but thanks to Turquoise Secrets owner, Fiona Thomas, I enjoyed seeing the final leg from a privileged position aboard the Tall Ship Johanna Lucretia. My sailing days are over as I no longer have the muscle or agility to get around a sailing yacht, I almost didn't even get on as the Johanna Lucretia has no gang plank and despite an attempt to give me a leg up, there is no way I can haul my bottom heavy figure up 2 meters. Luckily a very nice lad in a tender whizzed me around the quay to get on at a lower point, (to applause from a neighbouring yacht. I hope their photos don't turn up on Facebook).

We had a great day but the poor skipper, Rodger was doubly handicapped, first by the race committee and secondly by having only one able bodied crew member to handle over 300 sq m of sail, but he still managed a 4th place on the final leg.

Under the Plane Tree - Tea

In many towns in the Mediterranean it's common to see signs outside restaurants advertising that their bread and pizzas are cooked in a wood-fired oven, but I've never seen a sign for wood-fired tea before.

It didn't taste any different to 'normal' Turkish tea but the apparatus brewing it was impressive and the setting picturesque. Today I was at an annual faire/village market organised by the Bodrum Rotary Club in the neighbouring village of Etrim. It's a tiny affair held under an impressive plane tree, selling mostly food but also some homemade jewellery, clothes and baskets. I wouldn't travel far to visit but there seemed to be many more cars parked around than people and I'm wondering if there was something going on elsewhere that I missed.

The clouds parted, the sun came out, the band started to play and a few folk danced in the dappled shade. I was happy to sit and watch while I drank my wood-fired tea and ate an apple turnover, a nod towards Apple Day which is 21st October. The Archers are celebrating Apple Day today and I did my bit too.

A slight let down (and a difficult get down)

I've been looking forward to visiting the museum at Troy for a while. We had planned to go in 2020 but we all know what happened to plans that year. This month I got there. The imposing rust coloured cube sticks out from the surrounding countryside declaring its presence and the ramp decending to the concrete encased basement floor promises a very modern experience BUT I was a bit dissapointed. For a brand new museum, designed for a specific purpose, I felt it was a bit 'last century.' Inspiring architecture isn't enough to make a good museum these days, the exhibits need to be displayed in a way that inspire and educate. And a few interactive elements are always welcome after walking from glass case to glass case. Maybe I'm getting old. Maybe I've seen too many museums. Other people seem to rave about it.

I wonder who designed the above exhibit. Pictures of "Lost Heritage": Trojan treasures on display in other countries. A good idea but only for the agile. I just about managed to bend down far enough to look through the bottom tubes but it wasn't a comfortable viewing position. I wonder what pecentage of visitors actually bother to look at all. I'm sure someone, somewhere thinks it a good idea and I'd love to hear the reasoning behind it.

Gallipoli Driving Route

I've just spent a few days on a road trip to the Gallipoli peninsula. The last time I was there was probably 40 years ago and I can only remember being underwhelmed by the spectacle. It was time to revisit. I googled "Gallipoli Driving Route" and nothing useful came up so I'm filling the gap. We probably missed a lot but the work done on restoring all the graveyards, signposting and building a decent road, made this trip much more impressive than my last visit.

We stayed overnight in Çanakkale and took the car ferry to Kilitbahir - A short trip costing 435 TL. Views of the castle tempted us from the sea but unfortunately it was closed for repairs so we drove a few hundred meters up the road to the Gun Implacements. It's worth stopping here; first to marvel at how Winston Churchill ever thought he'd get a fleet past these massive defences and secondly to see the jar of custard that's ended up here 110 years after it set off from the UK.

Next stop was Alcıtepe, which doesn't seem to be on any of the English speaking coach tours but was the highlight of my trip. A loud re-enactment of trench warfare and doctors and nurses sorting out the aftermath of this barbarity was humbling, moving and stomach turning; probably not suitable for young children. I'd read reports of soldiers throwing biscuits and cigarettes at each other during lulls in the fighting but hadn't realised just how close opposing trenches were.

From here it's a short drive to The Çannakkale Martyrs Memorial and a search among the graves for Bodrum names. Not that we'd be able to recognise any of course as surnames had yet to be introduced when these young men sacrificed their lives.

On to Seddülbahir point where the castle's mix of war memorablia, archaeology, restoration techniques and art gave a welcome break from non-stop death and destruction. Also it's a good place to stop for lunch and loos.

Heading back up the peninsula on the Western side you have to take your pick of which cemeteries you want to visit. We stopped first at Shell Green, then drove up the rough road to Lone Pine.

I'd have liked to pop into the museum at Kabatepe but it was closed so we carried on up to Anzac Cove.

Then up to Suvla Bay where the smooth asphalt road comes to an abrupt end at the rocky headpoint and the only thing to do is turn around and go back the way you came...

...which gives you chance to stop at Hill 10 (if you missed it the first time you drove past) opposite the impressive statue of a Newfoundland moose, and pay respects to some of the British fallen.

Our final port of call was Bigali, Ataturk's base during the campaign, but we were too late at 5:30 to see inside the house (it would have been ok June to September when it shuts later) but enjoyed the village without any coach parties and sat and chatted with locals over the first decent coffee of the day, admiring the evening sun on the yellow stone and Turkish flags. We arrived back at Kilitbahir to drive straight on to the ferry, surprised that the return fare was only 215 TL.

Wooden Spoons

A trip to the Sunday market in Mumcular is now a firm fixture on the itinerary when friends visit. The shopping list usually looks like this: Baggy trousers for lounging about at home. Mixed dried vegetables for spicing up soups and pastas. Linen and cotton shirts. Turkish delight. Turkish saffron. Humane mouse trap (this isn't often on the list but we have some unwanted visitors as well as our wanted ones).

Wooden spoons are also a great buy and Hasan Usta and his wife Fatma are our first port of call. He and I go back a long time; in 1991 he was the carpenter 7 metres up the scaffolding, guiding our complicated roof beams into place while his young son, Musa, balanced on the top of the outer stone walls making sure the right beam was in the right place.

Hasan's present post-retirement occupation of spoon carving should be a much safer job but a slip of one tool or another resulted in a broken arm and a stay in hospital to get it fixed. This didn't stop him manning his stall today and Felicity bought a perforated wooden spoon; so much more attractive than the usual metal or plastic ones.

I'm typing this under the wooden roof beams that Hasan and Musa so expertly fitted 33 years ago. I've seen them shake and shimmy in several earthquakes but so far, they have always settled back in their allotted places. I have my fingers crossed for the next 33 years.

Mistakes aren't wasted.

Yesterday I posted a reel on Bodrum Art Collective's Instagram page (please follow if you haven't already) showing an acrylic print that didn't work. I haven't painted anything for a month and getting started again is always difficult. I find it best to just 'go for it' and see what happens. Obviously I waste a lot of paper and paint doing this, but never my time as the next paintings always benefit from the unbridled mistakes of past pictures. I hate to throw anything away so I've found a use for my discarded work. On 5th May this year I held a Greek Easter/Hırdırellez party. (The former you know, the latter celebrates the arrival of Spring and wishes are tied to trees.) I combined both by cutting out egg shapes and having friends write something on them. I made so many that later visitors have also been asked to 'write something on an egg'. I now have a guest book blowing in the breeze. Before the winter rains, I'll collect up the eggs and save them for next year.

This, by the way, is the discarded picture. It will look good as an egg.

Back Lane Biking

You've got to be mad to ride a bike around Bodrum; drivers with 4 wheels under them pay little heed to those on two, but off the peninsula on the Karaova plain, there is a network of small lanes between villages which are ideal for walking or rough cycling. Generally you can travel a kilometer at a time only meeting a shepherd, a cow ...

or a villager taking a nap.

In the winter I walk these lanes with the dog but a few years ago I decided to get out my sit up and beg Raleigh Pioneer, which is ideal for pottering around English villages whilst pretending to be Miss Marple, but was too exhausting to use over a rocky unpaved surface. So one day not long ago, on a trip to a supermarket to buy some wine, electric bikes were purchased. They were chosen for their chunky tyres which looked ideal for a bit of off-roading. If you haven't tried an electric bike yet, I urge you to give it a go. You still have to peddle so it feels like you're getting some exercise but the minute the going gets tough, you can up the power and breeze up the hill. I'm not brave (or crazy) enough to use them on a main road, but for pastoral peddling, an electric bike is a dream.

Old friends

One minute Dave was chatting, beer in hand, the next his bottom was on the gravel and his legs in the air. The deckchair had given way with a loud rip. When Kath and Dave last visited me, this deckchair was a bright red, comfy and secure. Dave chose to sit in it on the day it gave up hope and surrended to old age.

Their 2013 visit was in June and five of us travelled around in their camper van recreating our Famous Five archaeological trips of the last century. This time, August was too hot to venture very far and of the original five, there are only 3 of us left so a copy-cat trip would have been tinged with sadness but Finley hopped into their new van for a photo before they left.

It's lovely having old friends to stay, especially these two who I worked with for 6 years in the 80s. Our friendship has spanned almost from first jobs to retirement. We had lots to reminisce about and we fitted in a quick visit to Yali boatyard which is one of the few places that hasn't changed much in 40 years, even if everything around it is hard to recognise. A bit like us - no longer sun-bleached yachties. A bit like my deckchair. But its message is still clear and shall be heeded.