Day 6 - Nancie's Notes

Patara to Kalkan; Sat 6th April. The Lycian Way continues from opposite the Flower Pansiyon, a paved road until after the Riding School buildings. A stony road winds away from human habitation. The first horses are seen and a lone donkey nearby.

Massive stonework of a tomb and other ancient remains. R spends some time watching lizards. We pass a smallholding with a noisy yapping dog - then unsure of the path (lack of signs) have to pass again.

Signs become more frequent. Finally we are on a high level path and meet the occasional tortoise.

We pass through a pine and scrub woodland on a buldozed forestry road, eventaully emerging in a meadow area. R saw a Bee Orchid.

Realise the path is very even with  raised stone edges, at times with a central "trough" hewn out of stone. It is actually part of Roman aqueduct and the huge structure of the Diklemer Siphon* comes into view.

*(R; This is a piece of Roman engineering; a pipe constructed from a series of hollowed stone blocks carried on a monumental solid stone wall across a pass between two hills. There is a dip in the wall but if the pipe were well sealed water would have flowed from one side to the other. Sections of the "pipe-stones" and pottery liner are scattered at the foot of the wall.)

The Way continues on the other side of the wall. The tranquil and beautiful view of blue seas beyond gives little indication of the difficulties ahead.

Followed signs. The path gets more and more difficult, then there is a treacherous section where the hillside is of very coarse, cutting rock in sharp, jagged formations (R; plunging steeply to the deep blue waters of a secluded bay. We were astonished that the Way markings led across terrain that serious climbers would have found daunting even with the aid of ropes!)

A tiring and unrelenting scramble and climb down and across this section. Coached by RT. Path continues in challenging style (rounding a headland) until joining a concreted road on the Western outskirts of Kalkan.

It is a continuing building site of "pleasant" villa-type residences, a few more detatched than others. Work in progress on this Sunday as we enter from very hilly streets. Local dogs roam loose in the street - in good voice greeting the weary travellers.

R; It is a long walk to our pension. We had just enough energy and forethought to but two bottles of cold beer on the way - consumed in our room while watching (Turkish) "Survivors" on TV!

Sea of Plastic, Grotto, Pelican

A day of challenges, solutions, and surprises began with our departure from Gavuragili.

The usual breakfast of tomatoes, boiled egg, cheese, olives, bread and honey was followed by hasty packing of things needed for the day. This was put in one (my) backpack. The rest was bagged up to be collected and shipped to our next stop, the Flower Pensiyon in Patara. (After the first two days of walking, which were frankly exhausting, it was decided it would make sense to "send ahead")

The track was easy going and easy to follow, a steady climb through pine woods that provided shade and a resinous fragrance. This section ended with a scramble up a bank to join a tarmac'd road. The "Way" was supposed to follow this for 500m then take a path to the left. Thinking we had found this we began to climb the wooded bank. With hindsight it seems this was not part of the Lycian Way at all, and probably a path made by forestry workers, so it did not connect with the next section of the LW.

The tarmac road made a wide loop to bring it over a pass. We forged ahead, knowing that the Way made a short-cut, crossing a ridge, then rejoining the made-up road on the other side, Finding our way back down to the road proved tricky but we picked our way down through olive grove terraces, then found a path alongside a small gorge. Eventually we dropped into the dry bed of the streamwe and walked the final stretch to join the road.

Before us the massive plain of the Patara Delta stretched for miles, bounded by the hills and mountains beyond.. Rows of the massive glasshouses and polytunnels now cover most of this plain making it look like a sea of milky plastic.

Pleased with ourselves we headed back towards the massive site if ancient Pydnai, once a prosperous port and power base of the Lycian Greeks.

Rounding a bend we suddenly saw something very striking; a massive cave or grotto, about 25m diameter, like half an upturned bowl. It was naturally formed out of limestone with a pool at the bottom and some wierd suspended encrustations on the ceiling. It reminded me of the man-made grotto in the Parc les Buttes Chaumont in Paris.

There was a tree planted centrally in front, and two recesses at the back of the cave seemed to continue into the hillside. It was easy to imagine it being regarded as a shrine to Greek or Roman deities.

A long walk past the glasshouses and into a conservation area where mimosa trees reeds and tamarisk dominate brought us past Pydnai and to one end of the Patara sands. Here too Loggerhead turtles come ashore to lay eggs.

There is a frail-looking footbridge across the stream the flows down to the sea. In a refreshment pavillion alongside this we bumped into Charlie and Rupert. We had last seen them on our way to Faralya. (We had shared a moment of Lycian Way disorientation with them and enjoyed hearing their tales of the perilous descent into Butterfly Valley.)

Together we headed North towards Xanthos, another great archaeological site in this area. On the way I say delighted to spot a Smyrna Kingfisher, perched on twigs beside a stream and to see it dive for fish.

I asked a Turkish dolmush driver the name of this bird. He phoned a friend and came back with the reply; since a fish is 'pelac' and bird is "kush" this bird is 'pelac-kush' or 'pelican'. I'm not sure we were talking about the same bird!)

Day One

I am still reeling from today's walk experience!

Together with my friend Nancie I managed to get to the startpoint for the Lycian Way by ten o'clock. Pretty soon we were walking through woodland - thankfully cool as the day started to heat up.

The path climbed, then fell then just carried on climbing! There were magnificent views back to the coast around Olu Deniz. We passed a number of cistern tanks, where a fair quantity of spring water is collected for the benefit of passers-by and people working on the hillsides.

The vegetaion changed from pine forest to "maquis" and the curios shapes and surfaces of water-worn limestone became familiar. The grade of the track also varied - mostly it seemed to be lumpy stones that required care with every step to avoid twisted ankles. But occasionally there would be a stretch of green, close-clipped by the ubiquitous goats who seemed to belong to no-one but the sound of whose bells ornamented the silence.

Another common sound was that of bees. This area producss a lot of honey and the bees forage on the flowers of the mountainside. The most noticeable blooms on todays walk were the acid green mops of euphorbia, some with flame-coloured bracts and dark seed pods, and the ghostly spires of the asphodels, their flowers like pale stars, many with a faint pink wash.

Many birds were heard but not seen including a warbler and a stonechat. Numerous jays, a buzzard, black-caps and finches were also seen. Occasionally a lizard caught my eye but most times, having spotted me first it scurried away. I did manage to study one that hung like a devilish tongue beneath a mouth-like cleft in a rock. I got close enough to see its dark grey-checkered colouring, its size, the shape if its head, before it darted ito the "moufh".

To the right, the steep slopes toward the sea were clothed in scrub, to the left rose the flanks of Baba Dag. The walk continued around headlands and across stony slopes, the surface underfoot constantly changing from smooth path to loose rubble, and the gradient rarely level. Some stretches were like an interminable flight of stairs; these were the ones where occasional rest-pauses, regular sips of water and dogged determination were needed.

One descent brought us into a valley of occasional pines on a floor of bright white limestone rubble, the result of rockfalls that occured in 1953, when six houses in the village of Kirme on the valley floor were crushed. The entire south-facing side of Baba Dag appears to have been hacked away, the exposed rock totally lacking any vegetation and extensive scree slopes of chalky white rubble spread out at its base. I found this sight both awesome and depressing, and was keen to move on.

Strenuous climbing led to elevated pastures, a "ghost village" of half-finished villas and a wrong turn or two that meant doubling back or walking an extended loop to reach the next objective. It soon became clear that the guide book was out-dated and that way-markings could be misleading and inconsistent. My frustration with such things was mollified by sharing the experiences with the one or two fellow walkers met along the way - and by the wonders of the country through which we were walking.

After a long uphill slog we rounded a headland to see a village perched on 500m high cliffs above the deep blue waters of a sea inlet; we had reached Faralya, our first sleepover.

Bel

Last night the weather took a turn for the worse, "blowing a hooley" and keeping me awake worrying about the underthings I had washed and hung on a line outside. When I heard what sounded like rain I got up and collected in what I could find. In the morning a few stray item were found, none the worse for their ordeal though a little shaken.

I am now in a place called Bel, a mountain village. I haven't seen much of it yet as we arrived in a shower of rain (yagmur) at the end of grey and windy (ruzgarli) day.

On entering the village I was greeted by two sheep dog pups (kopek) who belonged to Ahmed my host. We spent the evening along with a Dutch couple, Martin and Lucy. "chatting" with him, his wife and 2 of his five children, Isa and Gelur.

Isa, about 16, a good-looking polite a charming boy is destined to be a shepherd. Gelur, 14 is the only one with any English in the family and seems very bright. She therefor was translator for the evening and though shy at first, took to the role in good humour and enjoyed showing off her simple skills.

The days walk began with a hair-brained ramble across terraces, along goat tracks, culminating in a preciptous cul de sac. Back-tracking we found our way down to the road and established our bearings.

The landscape is surprisingly green just now and fertile fields flanded the roads and paths though many appeared too small to allow use of tractor-towed machinery so you have to assume that cultivation and harvesting are labour intensive.

The day's walking ranged from tarmac roads to rubble tracks, to dry stream-beds and one memorable but misguided assualt on a mountain pass, through rocky pine woods and prickly scrub.

Our sense of direction, however, was on track as the red and white way markings suddenly reappeared and we were soon on our way to Sidyma, which boasts some Roman and Byzantine ruins, and a charming village. We enjoyed "chay" from a welcoming family, in the shade of an enormous bay tree heavy with blossom and buzzing with bees, and bought two small jars of honey from them. Then we headed off for Bel.

Shortly after leaving, after trecking a few village paths between dry-stone walls topped with brush-wood (a goat deterrant I think - they like ridge-walking) we were surprised to see a familar elderly man walking towards us.

"Bel?" he asked, looking a little confused. "Bel" we nodded. He shook his head, pointed in the direction we had come from and said, emphatically "Bel!". I made a mental note to make regular checks of my compass in future!

The Velvet Path

I was up early - in time to go with Gelur to catch the school "dolmush" and then walk to the other side of the valley to watch the sun gradually illuminate the village.

I wandered through some village lanes and wondered at the lives these people must have relying on relatively basic technology.

Back at Ahmeds house I stood with him on the terrace and looking out over his village with a bright blue day beginning we agreed that it was beautiful.

After breakfast it was back on the Lycian Way (Lykia Yolu) again stsrting with a gentle climb on an "old" road. Butressed by a wall on one side and wide enough for a tractor it seemed nevertheless rarely used, except perhaps, judging by the close cropped grass, for grazing sheep or goats. It was blissfull underfoot - the perfect way to start a day of serious walking.

We climbed gently, soon entering paths across upland "yaylas" and into pine woodland. The red and white waymarks were ever-present and we took care to add a stone to the occasional marker cairns where possible.

Soon we were shadowing the coast, though some 700m higher, working our way roubd headlands and valleys en route to the coastal village of Guvaragili (Goov-rally). The most demanding part was crossing and descending a broad slope composed if large smooth panels of rock with just a few fissures and occasional trees providing footing and shade respectively.

Though it was sunny a constant sea-breeze kept us cool and the sight of turquoise waters near the shore and the extensive sandy beach at Patara kept up our enthusiasm.

There were sightings of tortoise (koplunbagi) snake, a squirrel and tuneful birdcall one of the few sounds above the sighing of the wind. One exciting find was a single quill from a porcupine! I was so excited with this evidence of the recent presence of this rare creature.

A dog barked as I approached the first house in G. Beside the gates of a house and garden stood a smiling young woman. "From Bel?" she asked. It soon became clear that here was our pension for the night - and thrre were our bags safely delivered from Ahmeds place as promised; another miraculous link in the chain had been deftly forged.