OCTOBER 15-20, 2001: It's true: defying my parents (who had recently put together an anti-visit-Turkey coalition that would have made Colin Powell blush) and after checking opinion in the local scene (okay, two guys in a bar) in Rhodes, we ferry to the 99-percent Muslim Turkey (about 1 hour ferry). It is spectacular. After an inauspicious start -- the port town of Marmaris has the cheesiness of Atlantic City and the sleaziness of Tijuana -- we rent a car and are off down the Aegean coast. The countryside is very rugged and eerily beautiful. We slip through a few hilly passes and head down the coast, being careful not to run over the few turtles who are crossing the "highway" (2 lanes, several tractors). 

First we end up at Dalyan - it is splendid, on the bend of a river that winds down to the sea. From the riverbank at the end of town you can see Lycidian Tombs entrenched in the rock cliffs, about 100 feet up, on the other bank. Striking and beautiful. One day we take a boat tour to a local beach, some swimming holes, and a closer look at the tombs. The next day we tour the ruins at Canous, dating from 4 BC. Unlike other sites, nothing is roped off -- we gently poke the columns at the temple, which look wobbly. They do not fall. We are relieved. 

Back in the car and we head on to Kalkan, which, fantastically enough, is even more splendid. A port town, little more sophisticated, with a series of pleasure boats and a marina for visiting sail yachts. The series of bars and restaurants down by the water are mesmerizing, as is the spice shop. We find a very pleasant inn, with a roof deck and splendid view. We tour the town, take another boat trip (a bit the same: caves and beaches) and stare at the stark countryside. Two older brits adopt us, discover it is our honeymoon and buy us gin and tonics. Except for one meal, a curious concoction of boiled chicken and apricot which turns Heather nearly blue, we eat very well. 

Both cities are very tranquil, especially with the tourist season in their final days. We hear the Muzzlin call (starting at 6am) and it is haunting and beautiful, but it seems to be art, not religion. We eat once in the town square at Kalkan, and as the call to prayer sounds, 4 or 5 men, all over 50, slowly head to the Mosque. The vast majority, and all of the younger boat owners and tavern workers do not move. We both read a wonderful book (thanks to Tom Lamm) called A Fez of the Heart, which we recommend to all. After six days, we drive back to Marmaris (our plans to go from another port are scotched as it is the end of the season and not many ferries are running) and head out. A wonderful part our our trip; the only threatening moment when two men nearly fought over us -- to get us to choose their respective restaurants. The coast, at least, seems entirely secular and the people without doubt the friendliest we have met (of course, we were in Paris). On to the Greek isles. 

on to greece...