Memoir

This Side of Olympus

This Side of Olympus

We started this, our tenth day of this Turkey Tour in the most beautiful little spot of waterfront we may ever see. Kekova is the isolated little town of 100 souls (70 in winter) that has no road serving it and is only accessible by boat. The water is crystal-clear and as blue as anywhere in the Caribbean. There are three small pensions, two of which are owned by brothers. There are a few shops and an old Lycian fort on the top of the hill with an oversized Turkish flag. This is the sort of place where you have no choice but to relax since there is scant to do and nowhere to go. We took three meals on the dock of our little hotel, which was wonderful, but was also the only option for dining other than one of the other hotel docks. The whole town can accommodate about 75 guests at full capacity, so we represented 20% of the market. There is the occasional day-tripping gulet that passes by blaring Chinese or Russian tour guide hoo-haw. This morning, the heartier in the bunch took a morning swim with the Governor making it out to the rocks about a half mile out. He does like to swim. The rest of us, meanwhile, had a simple breakfast while waiting for our gulet ride back to the bikes.

The ride plan for the day was again short on distance (180 km) to Antalya, a large Rio-like resort town that anchors the southern coast of Turkey. The interesting thing is that the Turkish army has decided to proceed to attack the Syrian indigenous Kurds, just as we move TOWARDS the Turkey/Syria border. We are still 500 miles from where the fighting is underway, but as we keep heading East (actually Northeast) we will get within 300 miles of the ruckus. While you can argue that this is a localized police action to secure the Turkish border (that is certainly Erdogan’s contention), it’s bigger headline news around the world because President Trump effectively gave permission to Erdogan to proceed and withdrew the U.S. troops from the field of battle (only less than 100 troops, but very symbolic in the withdrawal of the U.S. support of its longtime Kurdish allies). So, here we are, a bunch of Americans close to the #1 global news story, enjoying nice beach resorts in Turkey and riding around on motorcycles. It sounds more irresponsible than it is.

The geography of this part of Turkey is dominated for hundreds of miles by the jagged and prominent Taurus Mountains that demarcate the boundary between the Mediterranean shoreline and the Anatolian plateaux. They appear largely remote and uninhabited, but they certainly provide Turks and others with a lovely alpine playground. It seems strange to see alpine landscape so close to the azure blue shore, but no less strange that this is the original home of St. Nicholas, our favorite Christmas icon, Santa Clause. In the town of Myra, we stopped to pay homage to the Saint and his church. Merry Christmas! So said the hordes of visiting Russians, who obviously relate well to anyone with the name Nicholas.

We then found the second half of yesterday’s 28 klicks of heaven for a second set of seaside sweeping turns until we got to the coastal area where the Chimera roamed, near the town of “burning rocks”, called Yanartas. The Chimera is a mythical beast that was part lion, part dragon and part serpent. A nasty piece of fire-breathing work. The Chimera plagued Lycia, so with the help of Pegasus and others, he was finally defeated. It is easy to see where the myth came from when you hike up to the burning rocks on the top of Mt. Cirali. It was from these natural “eternal flames” that have burned at these spots for over 4,000 years, that the original Olympic Flame was generated. That spot is at the base of Mt. Olympus, which, to most of our surprise, is here in Turkey and not, indeed, in Greece.

After an outdoor lunch down in the tree-covered bazaar of the beach town of Cirali, we headed to Antalya for the last hour of driving today. The entire way was on the lower hillside of Mt. Olympus and the other mountains of the Taurus. Just before we entered the city of Antalya, we passed under the high-wire gondola that ferries tourists up to the top of Mt. Olympus. My guess is that lots of Russian was being spoken on the gondola.

We are staying in a completely different type of hotel tonight. This one is like a Las Vegas hotel with large, plush suites. The best part of the hotel is the view. From our terrace we look across Antalya Bay to the magnificent panorama of the Taurus Mountains and Mt. Olympus. Watching the sun set to the West, just highlighted the mountain range and reminded me of looking at the Sawtooth Mountains in Idaho as the sun sets behind them. It’s an equally inspiring view.

Tonight, we were taken to a terrace dinner in the old town of Antalya. We watched as the restaurant shone a laser light display across the water at a stone cliff wall. It began as just the name of the restaurant. Then, at the table across from ours, we watched as a young man asked for his girlfriend’s hand in marriage. The laser announced the blessed event with a heart shape. A few minutes later, we were surprised to see the laser announcement that the restaurant was welcoming the American Flyers. There we were, for all of Antalya to see. No hiding now.

We may not be Olympians in the truest sense of the sporting definition, but I will declare that we are just this side of being Olympians by getting out there and doing something few will do at our age (ride motorcycles) in places like we go (Turkey during a global crisis… even though it didn’t start that way). We rode today in the shadow of Mt. Olympus, but I would contend that we of the AFMC cast a long shadow ourselves in our own ways.