Leg 3, Day 6, a.m. - Being at 2,365m

So the day begins. I am awake before the alarm, cockerels crowing. After the alarm I lie awhile thinking what I need to pack; I can leave a lot behind as I'm back here at the end of the day. But I need something warm to wear because I'm going to be at high altitude.

I go to collect a sandwich at 7 but no-one shows up until half past. I use the time to complete and post yesterday's blog. Finally at 7.45 I strike out for the Teleferic Base, first retracing my steps around the bays to Phaselis. The Sea is a little more perky and splashes my ankle as I pick my way around the headland. I enjoy the sight (and the scent!) of flowers above and away from the sand bank of the beach; some are like aubretia but more modest and compact. There are two that form creeping "mats"; one has yellow pea-like flowers, and another has blue borage-like flowers, but both have the same silvery hairyness of stems and leaves.

It's interesting to see Phaselis empty of visitors. The cafe area manager has only just arrived and the sun is casting long shadows of the pines across the picnic area. Tahtali Dag is clear of cloud and looks majestic beyond the marshy pond with reeds and moorhens. The path continues from the other side of the harbour ruins in the small bay, and skirts the sea shore, weaving through pine forest where I see, and again enjoy the slightly coconut scent of wild stock mingled with the sweet resinous smell of the pines. I also see "trains" of Processionary Moth caterpillars.

Eventually the path comes up to meet the road and it's only a few hundred metres to the Teleferic road on the opposite side. It's now nearly nine and I get the news that the first shuttle bus is at nine fifteen. Slightly before then, however a minibus comes through taking the staff to work!After a little deliberation they decide to let me join them for the ride up to Olympos Base.

Some of the staff are taking advantage of the chauferred transport to doze on the way up. Others (the women) are exchanging some banter, presumably at one point some jibes, as friendly (but real!) blows are exchanged. Out of the window I notice some red and white bar way marks. Checking my downloaded map I see that a Lycian Way path runs from here to the East, linking with paths and road to Kuzdere where I beleive the Roman Bridge to be. This fits my plan of making my way there later in the day.

It is along time after the minibus arrives that the cable car is ready to make the first ascent of the day! Sufficiently long that another minibus arrives with passenger, as well as a tour bus full of German-speaking people. Their guide is quite au fait with the system which means that they are in the right place to board before me. This is one of the irksome things about independent travel - it is a learning curve and you are easily marginalised by the establishment tour operators. Still, I have a sunny disposition; I know there will be room for everyone and there is no need for stress or rudeness.

The cable car operator is a young Turkish woman with a handsome face but impassive expression, she is wearing a sensible but stylish short olive green Parka jacket with a faux-fur trimmed hood. I notice she is also wearing patent leather Dr Martens brogues. She shepherds all into the cable car and closes gates and the car doors - which are floor to cieling glazed with two thin tubular rails at mid-height.

She takes her position and operates the controls to move off. It strikes me as unusual in Turkey for a young women to be doing this job but she has an air of confidence that is good for nervous passengers. We move off smoothly and rise swiftly but after we pass the first pylon the whole car swings to and fro a bit, because of the change in pitch, and the passengers let out a little nervous laughter. The sight of a mixture of two or three types of pines, seeming to spring directly from almost sheer rounded grey rock is impressive. Mist begins to obscure the view but after a short while clears to reveal rocks with few trees and the beginnings of snow cover. To the right a clear view of the ranges to the North can be seen. These are oriented North-South so their pitched profile adds drama to the sight.

Soon are at the Summit Station. I should mention that on the ascent our operator plays hers own choices from someone's playlist of music. Power ballads feature strongly and it is hard to resist being caught up in the emotion - though there is little relevance between what we are experiencing and "The Power of Love" or "We Are the Champions". Arriving at Summit Station, stepping out of the car on to them platform seems natural, though there is a little chink through which if you slipped a coin it would not strike anything for some 300 metres, and then it would probably start an avalanche so we don't do that.

The atmosphere in the Station is warm and clinically silent. Perhaps it is not so when the wind is up, but today outside it is sunny, with occasional clouds swirling over a deep blue sky. We pass through a cafeteria area and past a gift shop and a door leads out onto a snow-covered terrace. The air chills with the first breath, hitting the nose, mouth and lungs like an inhalation of some pure clear spirit. The snow is banked up so you don't see much without hiking up to a nesting fence. Then the surrounding landscape comes into view; the other peaks with which we are on a level, or above, the ridges, shoulders and slopes, swathes of cloud come and go, and clouds build into fantastic shapes in the eddy at the top of some peaks.

"TAHTALI" and "2365m" are displayed in giant letters on the massive side of the cubic building and one or two small "ice caves" have been dug into the snow where visitors pose for photos. Professional photographers in red jackets solicit every arrival - some just seem to stand and shout "Photo, photo, photo!" - not a great marketing ploy.

Back inside the buliding we climb some polished marble stairs. At the top are doors to a flat roof terrace. In the middle is a mound of snow. Some visitors stand on this to have their picture taken. Looking toward the sea there is a blanket of cloud, like the view from an aeroplane, with some white "heads" pushing upwards. As I watch swirls of wispy cloud move overhead and seem to form a claw around the sun. The claw closes and the sun dims, but only momentarily as the thin cloud dissipates.

Inside on the floor below is a rather impromptu exhibition of photos; about 30 prints, framed but without any glass cover stand on flimsy easels in a rough horseshoe facing inwards. There are some of the rare alpine plants and their flowers, though most are landscape shots with sunset, sunrise or some other dramatic lighting effect. Sadly every single print is buckled due to some variation in humidity from which they have not been protected, which actually makes looking at them difficult. So this is rather an embarrassing disappointment.

I go for a coffee in the cafeteria (which bizarrely is called "Shakespeare's"). 10.25 Turkish lira (£3) for a coffee is really expensive for Turkey but actually it is really well made, and the waiter service to tables, though hardly necessary is very efficient, multilingual and polite.

While I am having coffee something rather shocking happens; from behind me there is a loud thud and a brief profound silence. I turn round to see a woman, who must have been facing the window, is lying flat on her back on the floor. I have the sickening thought that the thud must have been her head hitting the floor. Staff quickly go to her aid and do all that I have been taught to do in such situations; check for response, breathing, turn the body onto its side and tilt head back to keep airways clear, call others to get help (at this point I would be asking to have a defibrillator handy), check for breathing again. The next step (had there been no breathing or pulse) would be to administer chest compressions and defibrillation but I can see that the woman is now making some voluntary movement. She is rolled on her back again, head supported and someone holds her legs up (to maintain upper body blood pressure I think). All seems to be OK. It is fairly soon after this that most visitors begin to move back to the departure platform. Too much excitement for one day!