tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47683427756404425552024-03-06T06:49:46.242+00:00Makarma's logA Slow Post from the MediterraneanLeighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.comBlogger139125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-27612689352193819582018-11-25T14:03:00.001+00:002020-01-03T16:25:20.982+00:00Makarma for sale at Aktio Marine, Preveza<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Early one May morning in 2017 we finally said farewell to Finike, Turkey - our home for four years. We were sad to leave behind many good friends but will always carry with us memories of very happy times.<br />
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After a leisurely cruise across the Aegean and through the Corinth Canal to the Ionian, we hauled Makarma out at Aktio Marine, Preveza, Greece.<br />
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Makarma is back on the market. David Rogerson at NYB Levkas is acting as our broker. <a href="https://www.networkyachtbrokers.com/office-page/lefkas/">https://www.networkyachtbrokers.com/office-page/lefkas/</a> <span class="w8qArf" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; font-weight: bolder;"><a class="fl" data-ved="2ahUKEwixyJ_e1-_eAhVHBMAKHQyNDcgQ6BMwE3oECA8QAg" href="https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=network+yacht+brokers+lefkas+phone&ludocid=14895380937157833378&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwixyJ_e1-_eAhVHBMAKHQyNDcgQ6BMwE3oECA8QAg" style="color: #1a0dab; cursor: pointer; text-decoration-line: none;">Phone</a>: </span><span class="LrzXr zdqRlf kno-fv" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><a class="fl r-irvhCCwJbOG4" data-number="+306945347870" data-pstn-out-call-url="" data-rtid="irvhCCwJbOG4" data-ved="2ahUKEwixyJ_e1-_eAhVHBMAKHQyNDcgQkAgoADATegQIDxAD" href="https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=nyb+Levkas&oq=nyb+Levkas&aqs=chrome..69i57j0.4183j1j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8#" jsaction="r.oVdbr2mIpA8" jsl="$t t-6xg4lalHw8M;$x 0;" style="color: #1a0dab; cursor: pointer; text-decoration-line: none;" title="Call via Hangouts">+30 694 534 7870</a></span><br />
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We're back in Devon again and enjoying spending time with our first grand-daughter who was born in December 2017. <br />
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Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-25272859537427778792017-03-21T18:28:00.002+00:002020-01-03T16:25:20.528+00:00Getting going again after the major refit<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We're getting ready to fly down next week to Finike to get Makarma fit for cruising again. In the last twelve months she's had an extensive refit. The 30 year old teak deck is gone, to be replaced by a more practical fresh white deck and there's new teak in the cockpit. Since the mast and every single deck fitting came off, it was a good time to upgrade wiring and loads of other stuff. She's now looking as good as we've ever seen her.<br />
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We're excited at the thought of getting going again after so long away. The ship's log shows our last sailing trip was in June 2014! Family commitments back in UK have kept us from spending time onboard for far too long. But the good news is the absence has made us realise we still want to do at least one more voyage before we get too old and creaky to enjoy it. Roll on the season!</div>
Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-86161154628622024322013-12-01T13:04:00.002+00:002020-01-03T16:25:23.500+00:00Makarma is up for sale<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Are we mad? Why are we exchanging our lifestyle of the last five years exploring the Med for the one we’ll go back to? We’ll have to wear shoes, lock doors, look left and right to cross a road. Mobiles will beep for our attention, people will interrupt a conversation with you to check their email. On the street no-one will make eye contact, strangers will think you’re weird if you say hello. And that’s before you consider the weather!<br />
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Well, for us one of the main reasons for cruising the Med is to explore remote places we wouldn’t otherwise visit. The experience has immeasurably enriched our lives. But for the first time this year we got the sense we are just doing more of the same. The trouble is, we’ve run out of Med to explore! <br />
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For Cathy living on the boat means the family is a long way off. The children have their own lives to lead now but she wants to be closer to her parents who aren’t getting any younger. <br />
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The more we think about it, we more we come round to the idea that there is life after Makarma. We’ve had an incredible adventure and created a huge stock of memories to draw on in years to come. Time and again she’s looked after us and brought us home safely. We want to leave while the going’s good and we’re still fit enough to open a new chapter in our life together.</div>
Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-59204878146678154262013-10-31T06:20:00.000+00:002020-01-03T16:25:22.082+00:00Winter makes an early appearance<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our usual Mediterranean gear??</td></tr>
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<br />What a difference a week makes! We remain in Fethiye to wait for Cathy’s sister Marion and her husband John to arrive on 3rd October. The moment they arrive in the early hours one morning after a long drive from Antalya, a fierce northeasterly plunges the temperature to the low teens, and we have to dig out our jeans and fleeces. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of Yes Marina, Fethiye</td></tr>
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<br /><br />We decide to wait until the wind abates to make the long trip down to Kas, especially as poor Marion had seriously bruised her ribs falling from her horse just three days before and wouldn’t appreciate a rough ride. The wind made our berth at Yes Marina very uncomfortable and after a sleepless night feeling like we were crossing the Channel, Marion and Catherine checked into a local pension to get a peaceful night, leaving John and Leighton onboard. That’s a first!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc2nB6rawWsZeK9FFFZ6E3SK2PYr4_GKK0CezZYjdNAD-KJ5HXVEf5nuRPHB1AUxxi928aUajIDwbA2uxarJK9EL4qWM7IehIpQR9cN7tl-8mTL6vrEp3aOYrL0NNA7mypT3guXPoeLIs/s1600/20131005_211044.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc2nB6rawWsZeK9FFFZ6E3SK2PYr4_GKK0CezZYjdNAD-KJ5HXVEf5nuRPHB1AUxxi928aUajIDwbA2uxarJK9EL4qWM7IehIpQR9cN7tl-8mTL6vrEp3aOYrL0NNA7mypT3guXPoeLIs/s320/20131005_211044.jpg" width="320" /></a><br /><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John dreaming of his next boat-building project?</td></tr>
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Leaving Fethiye, we had a very brisk sail towards Gemiler but before we reach the Seven Capes the wind’s gone and we motor the rest of the way to Kas, pushed on by a dying swell. At least it’s getting warmer. A rolly sail the next day takes us to Kekova and we finally start to relax. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">AAhh......Kekova........heaven</td></tr>
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDgEz4iLfgqnwPQQGBZTQaplwxvNuyeNP1F4MNt_31xQsPEfD2U0XtAqaNCFZPO41KzvuuY_rb9iwDMW6H0OaCzniHVNXC7NEKadPfwQamyllo6q1gGwpa3fZ9uAdUuL3-VV-EezBc5Ew/s1600/20131008_091321.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDgEz4iLfgqnwPQQGBZTQaplwxvNuyeNP1F4MNt_31xQsPEfD2U0XtAqaNCFZPO41KzvuuY_rb9iwDMW6H0OaCzniHVNXC7NEKadPfwQamyllo6q1gGwpa3fZ9uAdUuL3-VV-EezBc5Ew/s320/20131008_091321.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhBs0wCig4wFsTNEMGciWaX6H0hrfAKsVDcOku0O0TPE76n4vdKRz_NYCC-v1SX6aphJmJT8V_Q5UbR6n-gMGgnIX263ufH7XjMwW6SfDfaURGkGKsjKEml2nWzfqtVjlCoEH2fC7Z4I/s1600/20131008_095440.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhBs0wCig4wFsTNEMGciWaX6H0hrfAKsVDcOku0O0TPE76n4vdKRz_NYCC-v1SX6aphJmJT8V_Q5UbR6n-gMGgnIX263ufH7XjMwW6SfDfaURGkGKsjKEml2nWzfqtVjlCoEH2fC7Z4I/s320/20131008_095440.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />A good dose of sunshine and a bit of gentle walking is the perfect tonic for Marion’s bruised ribs, and she manages remarkably well given a boat isn’t the most comfortable environment. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHOfPPBQQHgQ_gx6Xc3vMBupOQsPaGYjxl2J3UmmvBTuq5JPYIqBOUYQkcw7Zo9DSkyAnUr9ktI6QtnvHNa0Wrkzk4gnAvDFk2D9c4RGS9DYvoOL3CeLm_ZExcAoiuTY6NA3wGz0XGhuQ/s1600/2013_1010Turkey0358.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHOfPPBQQHgQ_gx6Xc3vMBupOQsPaGYjxl2J3UmmvBTuq5JPYIqBOUYQkcw7Zo9DSkyAnUr9ktI6QtnvHNa0Wrkzk4gnAvDFk2D9c4RGS9DYvoOL3CeLm_ZExcAoiuTY6NA3wGz0XGhuQ/s320/2013_1010Turkey0358.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />Past Bunda Burun, Finike comes into view. We call up Setur marina on the VHF to let them know we’re approaching. Their crackling reply echoes across the cockpit, ‘Makarma, this is Setur Marina, welcome back.’ It is six months and over 1,000 miles since we left in April. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The marina dogs are underwhelmed to see us</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL70SQNU7udl9R5lcud8YAEtO89SEJpGfeGPnTHsjM9zeCRmrv8dbuSy9PIVSmmZZVrPRW68KFxTXlaFh1yySXirWCKMCAgtawy2FYetCuEY3gSNqcw3bi141cuahcjFbbp5m3dG_ieBk/s1600/2013_1010Turkey0371.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL70SQNU7udl9R5lcud8YAEtO89SEJpGfeGPnTHsjM9zeCRmrv8dbuSy9PIVSmmZZVrPRW68KFxTXlaFh1yySXirWCKMCAgtawy2FYetCuEY3gSNqcw3bi141cuahcjFbbp5m3dG_ieBk/s320/2013_1010Turkey0371.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pleased to be home</td></tr>
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<br /></div>
Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-88744472748186043222013-10-28T14:13:00.000+00:002020-01-03T16:25:23.629+00:00Fiona comes to visit<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fiona in her element</td></tr>
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Cathy’s sister Fiona is always a welcome guest onboard, even though this year she arrives at 2am one Sunday morning when Marmaris’s nightclubs are still competing with each other to wake the dead. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delicious Chinese meal at Kumlubuku - our first stop</td></tr>
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We have a fantastic week. As the week goes by, we fall into a relaxing routine of a walk every morning, plenty of swimming in calm water, and eating out most evenings. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kapi Creek</td></tr>
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The only decision is which of Skopea Limani’s many restaurant pontoons we’ll use. The weather stays idyllic and we even have a couple of good sails. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Setting off on another morning's walk</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inspecting the Lycian tomb at Tomb bay</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fiona fancies the slide on the gin palace</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbAbvQkhxBOmkwyWbj1xtFPRD8fsDy-xLocWCMLs5lc8FzoxKLdXv3ww57zhUw0BPdrNUWPdsRmyW_FY6LCcYpACsgRcPMP1LDn7y0dSUbO7Xcc0j0sUdeD7HhmiUmpkmprHE3bkIokIE/s1600/20130926_145636.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbAbvQkhxBOmkwyWbj1xtFPRD8fsDy-xLocWCMLs5lc8FzoxKLdXv3ww57zhUw0BPdrNUWPdsRmyW_FY6LCcYpACsgRcPMP1LDn7y0dSUbO7Xcc0j0sUdeD7HhmiUmpkmprHE3bkIokIE/s320/20130926_145636.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Showering off after another swim</td></tr>
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At the end of the week we anchor in Fethiye bay and row ashore to eat a last meal at Fethiye’s fish market before putting her on the bus to Dalaman. The bus trip turns out to be the only bad experience of the week, but Fiona makes it in time for her flight back to Bristol. </div>
Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-65560768592001190822013-09-22T16:24:00.000+01:002020-01-03T16:25:22.470+00:00A spot of bother in Bozburun<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX4pR9U2qff36Q0XdfcN_hk7XmYU83w8OntaHTdH58jM8Dwj1e5D4h49TKbOfIq77UO7mGCuIpwxYyDRNb6w7aJwTB3s-Fv37XzcVfio5REHBvM1PxktWNwq5RrxoVRUN5SK6713jyCZQ/s1600/20130915_125319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>‘Let’s see if the anchor gods are smiling on us today,’ observes Leighton as he starts up the windlass. Today’s Tuesday. The anchorage outside the harbour at Bozburun has emptied out a bit since we anchored here on Saturday to sit out a blow. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The anchorage during the weekend's wind - Swedish friends on Doris on the right</td></tr>
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Leighton has good reason to be concerned. While we went ashore yesterday for the first time in two days to get some much needed fresh food, a large gulet moored up to the outside of the harbour wall alongside a couple of others close by. At the time we said to ourselves it might spell trouble. <br /><br />‘Thirty five metres’, Leighton shouts, winding in the chain. So far, so good. At that moment, the bow dips violently and the windlass grinds to a halt. ‘Yup, they’ve got us!’ The gulet’s heavy anchor and chain has well and truly trapped our anchor chain underneath. In 14 metres of water so free diving down is out of the question. We make a couple of attempts to extricate ourselves using the hand windlass but it’s useless. We’re not going anywhere. <br /><br />‘Je peux vous donner un coup de main?’ Roland’s voice chips in. He’s from Provence and is on his way to Thailand in a 28 foot boat, Loyola. He’s waiting here for his Thai wife (a durian and pineapple grower) to come to crew with him. First he has to fix a bent prop shaft without lifting the boat out of the water. He doesn’t speak a word of English. As our dinghy’s already on the foredeck we ask if he can give Leighton a lift to where the gulet’s moored. His dinghy is like a paddling pool. ‘Ask him if I’m wasting my time baling,’ Leighton says, trying to keep the water level below his calves. ‘You’ll just have to put up with it,’ I say after Roland explains there was a small hole in the rubber floor yesterday which turned into a big one when he plonked two full jerrycans in the dinghy. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_VLyIbgYpUI2NTi4qXQZTZ4i6-OLpCrnBWjcSJdqBJXK_rXvP3EQeIfrRNpHv5gERXZAGti-YupreZfrTwxWb2zN0aV0beSt8e2bcftsWkJ9DCcmCTwGw0Zf-SXhRUJ8FNP-I_HhILQg/s1600/20130916_112248.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_VLyIbgYpUI2NTi4qXQZTZ4i6-OLpCrnBWjcSJdqBJXK_rXvP3EQeIfrRNpHv5gERXZAGti-YupreZfrTwxWb2zN0aV0beSt8e2bcftsWkJ9DCcmCTwGw0Zf-SXhRUJ8FNP-I_HhILQg/s320/20130916_112248.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roland earlier with his blue boat in the background</td></tr>
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A little later they return with the name and phone number of the captain of the offending gulet, the Yorukoglu 2. Captain Mehmet is not due back until this evening. We leave a voicemail message and a text but it’s obvious we’re going nowhere today. We can just about afford a day’s delay but have to get to Marmaris by Friday in time to meet Cathy’s sister. Cathy finds lessons in patience hard to take and there’s no outlet to relieve her frustration. We don’t dare leave the boat in case the gulet suddenly decides to leave. The day drags. Evening comes and Captain Mehmet still has not returned our messages. No sign of life on the gulet. Neither of us sleeps well.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The offending gulet in the middle - look how far away it is!</td></tr>
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On Wednesday morning, Leighton wakes determined we will leave today even if we have to hire a diver to extricate us. Captain Mehmet isn’t picking up his phone when we call. We dinghy ashore - this time in ours not Roland’s. Leighton heads to the port police to report the problem while Cathy collects the laundry and picks up fresh bread. By the time we head back to the boat fifteen minutes later, the Yorukoglu 2 is moving away from the harbour wall, slowly picking up its anchor chain. Hooray! We leap onboard and just have time to let out enough chain to reverse out of its way. As it narrowly misses our bow, we get a volley of denials from Captain Mehmet that he’s caused us a problem. We don't care. We’re free and back on schedule! <br /><br /></div>
Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-82186646185374108632013-09-18T13:50:00.001+01:002020-01-03T16:25:23.372+00:00The Leros bus goes on a little adventure<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The soundtrack of our last visit to Leros was the doodle-doop of the green-striped bus tooting to alert passengers it was coming as it plied up and down the length of the island. This morning we hear the tell-tale sound disappear up the road and realise we’ve missed the bus. Damn. Moments later we hitch a lift to Platanos off a Raymarine engineer and arrive just in time to buy the last loaf of the island’s must-have olive bread - Cathy’s main reason for coming here.<br /><br />When we get on the bus to go back to the boat, laden with shopping, the driver looks apologetic and says something in Greek to us. We catch something about twenty minutes but the rest is gobbledegook. He lets us on anyway with a shrug and we sit down wondering what's in store for us. The bus is crammed with a group of middle-aged ladies who are clearly in holiday mood, laughing and keeping up a non-stop chatter. Halfway along the road back, the bus veers off down a small lane that soon turns into a dirt track ending at a low cliff overlooking the sea. At the end of a narrow causeway jutting out into the water stands a small blue-domed chapel perched on a rock. A sign tells us it’s dedicated to St Isidoros. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our mystery destination</td></tr>
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The bus stops, the ladies clamber out and we watch the group make their way down the steps to the causeway and across to the chapel. There’s a bit of a kerfuffle as first one lady then another loses her hat, blown into the sea by a brisk breeze. The bus parks up and we wait until they return. As they come back on board, the driver turns up the volume on some traditional mandolin music, one of the ladies cheers and they all clap. Whatever they’ve done out at the chapel has clearly got them all excited. <br /><br />A car is blocking the road on our way back - the bus doesn’t normally come this way. No problem. The driver gets out and pushes it into someone’s driveway so we can squeeze past. A Greek Orthodox priest runs out - he's parked the car to drop in on one of his parishioners. Soon we’re back on the normal route - about twenty minutes behind schedule.<br /><br />When we get ready to get off at the boatyard, the ladies chorus to us, ‘kalo taxidi!’ and they all smile broadly, doubtless tickled that we are unwitting - and bemused - participants in the bus’s diversion from its usual schedule today. <br /></div>
Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-3988706407013525462013-09-18T13:37:00.001+01:002020-01-03T16:25:21.500+00:00Arki<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The little harbour of Port Augusta in the Dodecanese island of Arki is tiny, with just a straggle of small white houses, a handful of chapels and almost free of traffic as there’s nowhere far to drive. The plateia facing the harbour is overlooked by two rustic tavernas and a café festooned with vines. It’s not at all touristy, there are just a few rooms for rent and the quay has room for ten sailing boats at a pinch. When the islanders aren’t fishing, they hang out in the shade somewhere gossiping and tending their nets. <br />
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The place is still as we remembered it from our last visit two years ago. The same couple are running the kiosk on the dock, the same guy in the taverna with long grey hair tied in a bandanna, the same guy who runs the cafe greeting the boats. The mini market still has bewildering opening hours. <br />
<br />The quay is almost full the first night we’re there. We can see the wind’s blowing hard outside the harbour, but inside we’re snug and glad to be tied safely to some concrete. On the other two nights, we had only one other boat for company.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3LREXUK7ipCfh_2cwZ_7q6r_QCmLJCGiRkEscvL78entcfqZ9Mf-cCRspL_v0ur1IQuKBCfmEDxLFh_4xBz4UXQwKXZDfHsoqIjJ0T4EUkFlZRABc5PXc_o7h79eDgsoRWb2PxqMUH60/s1600/SUNP0085.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />Leighton is keen to try out a new underwater camera in the little bay a short walk away. Last time we were here, he’d spotted the remains of an ancient amphora set in a rocky ledge just off the beach and he wanted to capture it on camera. Judging by the results, there’s clearly more to taking pictures underwater than we imagined! <br /><br />
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Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-51292208500444969862013-09-13T10:26:00.000+01:002020-01-03T16:25:21.757+00:00A fishy smell<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Port Augusta on Arki, Dodecanese</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tranquil village plateia</td></tr>
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On the 26 mile passage to Arki from Samos everything gets shaken up quite a bit. We have to wedge the coffee mugs to keep them from rattling and the bottles of olive oil and dressings keep colliding in the galley drawer. Some of Leighton’s papers have fallen out of the attic shelf in the forepeak and his socket set is sliding about on to the floor outside the loo. Nothing like a good dose of meltemi to realise we must do something about our clutter. </div>
<br />While trying to wedge everything back in its place, Cathy catches a distinct whiff of something rotten. It’s coming from somewhere in the front half of the boat and it’s absolutely disgusting. Please tell me the loo isn’t blocked! No, thank god. It’s pumping fine. The holding tank? Don’t think so. Maybe it’s from the bin in Leighton’s workshop. Or the rubbish bag we haven’t disposed of yet. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is it the smell that's driven everyone away?</td></tr>
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Once we’re tied up on the quay in Port Augusta, the hunt continues. We tidy everything away, look in all the lockers, take the rubbish ashore. The smell’s still onboard. We follow our noses and home in on the forepeak. Cathy moves the bucket holding our bottles of drinking water away from the corner where it lives and recoils. A fetid stench is coming from a carrier bag behind the bucket. Aah! Got it! <br /><br />When we’re in a marina, we dangle a wire overboard with a couple of old zinc anodes on the end. We call it ‘the fish’ and it’s supposed to reduce the wear on the anode fixed to our hull. When Cathy hauled it up in Kusadasi, it was covered in muck and weed so she stuffed it into a carrier bag in the forepeak and forgot about it. She brings it at arm’s length up on deck and we stuff it into a strong plastic laundry bag, seal it with duck tape and put it in the stern of the boat so any whiffs will be carried downwind. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Relaxing ashore until the smell goes away</td></tr>
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Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-46333943288628191892013-09-13T10:17:00.003+01:002020-01-03T16:25:21.628+00:00Getting out of bond<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trying to leave Kusadasi</td></tr>
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On Wednesday 28th August we arrive back in Kusadasi after a five week break in Devon. When you leave your boat to go back to the UK, the authorities expect you to put your boat in customs bond. When we go along to the marina office on Thursday afternoon we’re told that the customs people only release a boat from bond on weekdays. And they’ve shut up shop early today because it’s a public holiday tomorrow. So the upshot is they can’t let us out until Monday. Grrr! <br /><br />We fill the time stocking up at the market, topping up the tanks, etc. You’re not supposed to swim in the marina, but Leighton slips into the water when no-one’s looking to scrape off the barnacles and weed that have sprouted on the hull in our absence. <br /><br />A band of meltemi is blowing hard out in the Aegean when we finally get to leave the marina. To start with the only sign of it is the swell, so we adopt the ultimate idler’s technique of motorjibbing - low revs with the genoa out to steady the boat. This saves us the work of hoisting the mainsail and allows us to reduce sail quickly if it gusts up. Which it does as we approach the island of Samos and it’s rough enough to get spray over the decks. <br /><br />We’re bowling along at 7 knots as we turn the corner on the east end of Samos to enter the narrow strait between the island and mainland Turkey. At its narrowest the strait is less than a mile across and a current runs eastwards (i.e. against us) at anything up to 4 knots, often kicking up uncomfortable overfalls. We heel over as 30 knot gusts off the high land hit us beam on and we reduce the genoa to half its usual size. We’re thankful we have a strong boat as she just digs in and powers ahead. With no sign of the adverse current, we reckon meeting any overfalls is unlikely today. We decide to brave it and push on to Pythagorian at the far end of the strait. <br /><br />Pythagorian is not one of our favourite anchorages. The wind turbines on the ridge tell the story. This place is wind central. Two years ago we spent a whole week here waiting for the wind to calm down enough for us to leave the boat and explore the island. Once we’re hooked, an Englishwoman swims over and offers to check our anchor. There’s a lot more weed on the bottom here these days and she reports that our trusty bugel is lying on its side. It refuses to right itself and dig in when we go astern on it. After re-anchoring the woman gives us a thumbs up. Knowing we’re properly hooked this time gives us a crumb of comfort as we lie awake much of the night listening to the wind in the rigging. <br /><br />In the morning the gusts into the harbour are still dreadful even though it’s only a F5. A F6 is forecast, so we need no encouragement to uphook and head out for one of our favourite boltholes - Port Augusta on the Dodecanese island of Arki, a 23 mile downhill ride from here. We’re the only boat leaving - I wonder why?</div>
Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-81353963828378937652013-07-22T10:35:00.003+01:002020-01-03T16:25:23.242+00:00In search of the Great Mother Goddess<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"I have seen the Hanging Gardens of ancient Babylon," wrote a traveller, Philon of Byzantium, "the statue of Olympian Zeus, the Colossus of Rhodes, the mighty work of the Pyramids and the tomb of Mausolus. But when I saw the temple of Artemis at Ephesus rising to the clouds, all these other wonders were put in the shade."<br />
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<br />If you go today to the site of the temple of Artemis, it’s impossible to conjure up how it looked when it was one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. In a field on the outskirts of Selcuk a single reconstructed column rises out of a swampy reed-bed. It can only hint at the colossal size of the Artemision, a temple more than three times larger than the Parthenon and the first monumental building to be entirely constructed of marble. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Storks nesting at the top of the column</td></tr>
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A few Turkish blokes lounging in the shade of a eucalyptus grove exhort us to buy a plastic model of the goddess Artemis. The Ephesus version of Artemis is a strange figure with many breast-like protuberances (some experts say they’re actually bull’s testicles on her chest), quite unlike the great huntress worshipped in Greece. It’s obvious she’s a goddess of fertility.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQaFmXthpxDXCDT-Obz4EFdKX2vm_L2FGvA7XleJDveS7CQ3X0jmsc4QEgKiSXrp8DahXI2DtQLD4abnNhFyF_d9gBPfeP72tOMXrY0A1foSSvo59Nln_BRaMt1poc59mbwAVTS2FK4U/s1600/20130510_152413.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQaFmXthpxDXCDT-Obz4EFdKX2vm_L2FGvA7XleJDveS7CQ3X0jmsc4QEgKiSXrp8DahXI2DtQLD4abnNhFyF_d9gBPfeP72tOMXrY0A1foSSvo59Nln_BRaMt1poc59mbwAVTS2FK4U/s320/20130510_152413.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
Thankfully British archaeologists didn't find this statue or it'd be in the British Museum. Instead it's travelled one mile to the Selcuk museum which annoyingly is closed for refurbishment so we couldn't see her there in all her buxom glory. We had to settle for this picture of her instead.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMCiJbGybNSvpzCpMACXJwrusdMigk6J1Egyw-ttWWfAl-PUh_abAp7HXvhdy3Jswl31v49ZtCVzDjrXUcs0XACx72IE6WL3HPj0YARTS1c9TdzrXpyXpMgsBfPCscymSUMqYcJDH6ot0/s1600/20130510_152535.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMCiJbGybNSvpzCpMACXJwrusdMigk6J1Egyw-ttWWfAl-PUh_abAp7HXvhdy3Jswl31v49ZtCVzDjrXUcs0XACx72IE6WL3HPj0YARTS1c9TdzrXpyXpMgsBfPCscymSUMqYcJDH6ot0/s320/20130510_152535.jpg" width="208" /></a><br />Artemis is the direct descendant of Cybele, the great Phrygian fertility goddess of Anatolia. Legend has it Cybele was the daughter of Gaia, the primordial Earth Mother. The cult of Cybele was celebrated with festivals of orgiastic fertility rites which date from at least 1,000BC. So when wealthy King Croesus of Lydia decided to build a new temple on the site in 550BC, he was reluctant to break with tradition and rededicated the existing shrine to an Artemis that had all the characteristics of Cybele. <br />
<br />
Christianity finally brought an end to several centuries of Artemis worship when the temple was destroyed. Pondering on how these pagan goddesses evolved to suit new belief systems, it isn’t a stretch to imagine that the early Christians captured the old familiar pagan gods and reinvented them as saints. So the veneration of the Virgin Mary replaced the worship of Artemis. <br />
<br />Historian John Freely thinks so. “Thus Ephesus is once again the site of a world famous shrine, with the Blessed Virgin now the object of veneration instead of Artemis, who herself replaced Cybele, the Phrygian deity who in turn developed from the far more ancient Anatolian fertility-goddess, the Great Earth-Mother, whose worship goes back to the beginning of civilization in Asia Minor.”<br />
<br />As we head back to the main road to catch the bus we think how sad it is that all this has gone. What is really depressing is the thought that the only goddesses we worship these days are the likes of Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian........what does that say about us?</div>
Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-64237977087385288592013-07-20T08:04:00.000+01:002020-01-03T16:25:22.340+00:00Fridge Watch<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZY-uAJgJZ2SZe9UWywRTxSotTW5GW36KL7qm9rHGpqbIVPoRsS3yXi3NNVQQ1wczBuWlYG4SVwdtp0Z8Q-T6sBqgwb2Z8-aPAgBCyaSvD5Wp3kaiJRLv6GipumvuP6ydY5Z9UhxwQ8WE/s1600/20130719_091119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>A couple of days ago we were jolted from our afternoon torpor induced by the 36 degree heat by a loud bang. A yoghurt pot had blown its top off in the fridge when the carbon dioxide build-up inside got too much for it to hold. The temperature in the fridge hovers at a balmy 18 degrees. Regular visitors to Makarma know all about our obsession with the temperature in the fridge, known as 'fridge watch.' The fridge compressor only works when the engine's on, not much use in a marina, despite plentiful supplies of electricity which could run a conventional compressor. The supercool backup maintains a 10 degree difference between the ambient temperature in the bilge (a cool 28 degrees) and inside the fridge. Not much use frankly in this heat. <br /><br />Since then, we've been hiding 1.5litre bottles of water behind the frozen pizzas in the freezer cabinet of the local Migros supermarket. Go back 12 hours later to retrieve them and they're frozen solid. Perfect. The checkout girl raises an eyebrow or two but the barcode tells her to charge us the usual price. Putting them in the fridge works a treat. We don't have to start the engine, we get fresh cold water, a bit of ice for the G&T and the fridge stays below 15 degrees - and we haven't had any more explosions.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZY-uAJgJZ2SZe9UWywRTxSotTW5GW36KL7qm9rHGpqbIVPoRsS3yXi3NNVQQ1wczBuWlYG4SVwdtp0Z8Q-T6sBqgwb2Z8-aPAgBCyaSvD5Wp3kaiJRLv6GipumvuP6ydY5Z9UhxwQ8WE/s1600/20130719_091119.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZY-uAJgJZ2SZe9UWywRTxSotTW5GW36KL7qm9rHGpqbIVPoRsS3yXi3NNVQQ1wczBuWlYG4SVwdtp0Z8Q-T6sBqgwb2Z8-aPAgBCyaSvD5Wp3kaiJRLv6GipumvuP6ydY5Z9UhxwQ8WE/s320/20130719_091119.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />Except a phantom shopper thinks they're a good idea too and keeps buying them before us. Leighton refuses to be beaten. Last night he topped up the freezer just before Migros closed and this morning he went back again at 9am when it opened. Moments later he returned with three ice bottles and a triumphant smile on his face. 'We've beaten the water thief to it this morning - yay!'<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZY-uAJgJZ2SZe9UWywRTxSotTW5GW36KL7qm9rHGpqbIVPoRsS3yXi3NNVQQ1wczBuWlYG4SVwdtp0Z8Q-T6sBqgwb2Z8-aPAgBCyaSvD5Wp3kaiJRLv6GipumvuP6ydY5Z9UhxwQ8WE/s1600/20130719_091119.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-90035936887238163842013-07-11T13:11:00.000+01:002020-01-03T16:25:23.758+00:00A week of land cruising - Stage 2 to Turkey's Lake District<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Catching a long distance bus is a great way to see the interior of Turkey. They're comfortable, cool and cheap. Our whole trip for the two of us there and back cost less than a single train ticket from Exeter to Bristol.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisk6z00cM6-_tzzGh1_otQah_nTo-Vo3iXNy55FG61b-l87AhtYH90cfc7WQvQlELEuFv6DB6GzpiYsGLXomf9nSGXQMlxUJGnAVBaVeqO4jusvCysV6r4GhSvljIjqxzklgd-2yqeCB4/s1600/20130705_115319.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisk6z00cM6-_tzzGh1_otQah_nTo-Vo3iXNy55FG61b-l87AhtYH90cfc7WQvQlELEuFv6DB6GzpiYsGLXomf9nSGXQMlxUJGnAVBaVeqO4jusvCysV6r4GhSvljIjqxzklgd-2yqeCB4/s320/20130705_115319.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdtd64OlBPxBvDlWWf3cHDN17GG_Kq1g89eHx4Or6698RVXgZwZrggBwmvXzptVFtmFju4z9qifg6j-FExIEBP4tptq2e_jUvD9H8opidk5oUr_iTkg77pTfPtX34A33dUrBqB8tleAjk/s1600/20130706_185342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
On the way to Pamukkale (see blogpost just before this one) we drove up the fertile Meander river valley past peach orchards, market gardens, fields of wheat and maize. Now we're climbing 900 metres out of the valley floor into the mountains towards the Lake District. The first lake we reach is Aci Gol, Turkish for bitter lake. It's a brackish marsh edged with salt flats shimmering in the sun. This doesn't look promising. But when we come over the pass and wind our way down to Egirdir beside its eponymous lake, we smile with relief.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdtd64OlBPxBvDlWWf3cHDN17GG_Kq1g89eHx4Or6698RVXgZwZrggBwmvXzptVFtmFju4z9qifg6j-FExIEBP4tptq2e_jUvD9H8opidk5oUr_iTkg77pTfPtX34A33dUrBqB8tleAjk/s1600/20130706_185342.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdtd64OlBPxBvDlWWf3cHDN17GG_Kq1g89eHx4Or6698RVXgZwZrggBwmvXzptVFtmFju4z9qifg6j-FExIEBP4tptq2e_jUvD9H8opidk5oUr_iTkg77pTfPtX34A33dUrBqB8tleAjk/s320/20130706_185342.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />The view is amaaazing. The air is clear and the lake sparkles in the sun against the backdrop of mountains. The small town of Egirdir lies in the shadow of Needle Mountain on a peninsular fortified by an old castle. A narrow causeway links the peninsular to Yesilada island to form a two kilometre long promontory that juts right out into the lake.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYrV-jdcojteqsqXvyAaCZGX-wrCV92QPA_altF0MWmr8aL1Mtm6QyUXPiZjzxjFzujIDhRnEf1wXZLyLlOw8O3UIQi4ZaTRnOLBu7D5n-3_PzhqQByA9hYr9sx8YbqKPXfq3ilgVEztU/s1600/20130705_182819.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYrV-jdcojteqsqXvyAaCZGX-wrCV92QPA_altF0MWmr8aL1Mtm6QyUXPiZjzxjFzujIDhRnEf1wXZLyLlOw8O3UIQi4ZaTRnOLBu7D5n-3_PzhqQByA9hYr9sx8YbqKPXfq3ilgVEztU/s320/20130705_182819.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trees are growing in the breakwater of the fishing harbour!</td></tr>
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeeUM3_MS8CvN3U9X9lqq5pDgctfeiRC5IF6JmtC4wSGtTBk9FSclGCW1RpNNc6d5D059bk8Pn1ZPo2C2XeV2NBxyYUupsd-fYZXDsqKuik0jo9-AZru-FRlFLt8R8TXxiiUv1ucfKcOM/s1600/20130705_183841.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeeUM3_MS8CvN3U9X9lqq5pDgctfeiRC5IF6JmtC4wSGtTBk9FSclGCW1RpNNc6d5D059bk8Pn1ZPo2C2XeV2NBxyYUupsd-fYZXDsqKuik0jo9-AZru-FRlFLt8R8TXxiiUv1ucfKcOM/s320/20130705_183841.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />We've booked to stay at Charly's Pension which you reach by going through the gateway of this ruined castle on the peninsular. It turns out to be a great choice. It's an old Greek house beside the lake with loads of character and five fairly basic bedrooms.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCtr8L7i_oloq7T0WcHf0Yyekr6CTV6baDltJIfS3wgfRqbtiUykWG1lH7VvhM-Nu9-cycSKJPbJznWBxgqJrUjr951SkB9vRA8TPAsFN4abABDlVhwNAxw0IeKddYG2cLqOlMMidc74g/s1600/20130705_184633.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCtr8L7i_oloq7T0WcHf0Yyekr6CTV6baDltJIfS3wgfRqbtiUykWG1lH7VvhM-Nu9-cycSKJPbJznWBxgqJrUjr951SkB9vRA8TPAsFN4abABDlVhwNAxw0IeKddYG2cLqOlMMidc74g/s320/20130705_184633.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charly's Pension</td></tr>
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<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTN1nkBvCDo3uQOGjwCHRap3k4Nrv2VgCiDxxV5yFg8_KWnarXRD8LrpasfUdWJCAeBKPnTu2w8a1fcIZa05MVoQ1a5Hdm0PfkKJQtTH3uVqpv_78mKBNnP3ir1L11Yn5w8pp1hq8Ndbk/s1600/20130705_184916.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTN1nkBvCDo3uQOGjwCHRap3k4Nrv2VgCiDxxV5yFg8_KWnarXRD8LrpasfUdWJCAeBKPnTu2w8a1fcIZa05MVoQ1a5Hdm0PfkKJQtTH3uVqpv_78mKBNnP3ir1L11Yn5w8pp1hq8Ndbk/s320/20130705_184916.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
The pension terrace has this magnificent view overlooking the lake with steps down to a small pebble beach.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3813YVDD1aX_JxX1QroQTKZdZ1SU_9xyFELSUiH0uL6buEQj3QMDfaRB5eJIZuMCWgYRBXYawG97-yrhvVfwjxkA8Z4ZaHxo8hB7QtIQoAIxa70uOB6pSJBroTaDpShXatPRO1nvZJCc/s1600/20130707_142010.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3813YVDD1aX_JxX1QroQTKZdZ1SU_9xyFELSUiH0uL6buEQj3QMDfaRB5eJIZuMCWgYRBXYawG97-yrhvVfwjxkA8Z4ZaHxo8hB7QtIQoAIxa70uOB6pSJBroTaDpShXatPRO1nvZJCc/s320/20130707_142010.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wow! The view from the terrace</td></tr>
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Our bedroom has old oak panelling and a little balcony with this same view. Another stroke of good luck is the pension is sheltered from the breeze that got up every afternoon we were there.<br /><br />
The lake is 488 square kilometres in size. Crayfish, perch and carp are plentiful. Anywhere else it would be teeming with pleasure boats and its shores would be lined with watersports centres, apartments and hotels. Although it's conveniently placed half way between Cappadocia and Pamukkale, few tourists stop here and it's remarkably unspoiled.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLn-SEepZnxpMDdVGAlLIp4O9x_Us_KJHV0puvEFVS6dSq1ahEF7AtNs4Ick9eeNGhIQ6-G93NKijn0MIS9VFkrULAHNd69yBqt7urDtubL8N_2gFPJFlN0DvB22hMJITXJldYbIXz3sU/s1600/20130705_182147.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLn-SEepZnxpMDdVGAlLIp4O9x_Us_KJHV0puvEFVS6dSq1ahEF7AtNs4Ick9eeNGhIQ6-G93NKijn0MIS9VFkrULAHNd69yBqt7urDtubL8N_2gFPJFlN0DvB22hMJITXJldYbIXz3sU/s320/20130705_182147.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ripe for development?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-FdmUXxN04V9Y7hAG11h303xyMkYVFsOSAldJZK4NcaS2KzUl_dWFfLQQ2GD9mwPukJe1PsqGWXDI7VsOhtjVq8hXMCgDFPVdaFBn0195xa4Ogo6q-fVlpYo-VaCE5ndcuJ80LPPLnQ/s1600/20130705_183157.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-FdmUXxN04V9Y7hAG11h303xyMkYVFsOSAldJZK4NcaS2KzUl_dWFfLQQ2GD9mwPukJe1PsqGWXDI7VsOhtjVq8hXMCgDFPVdaFBn0195xa4Ogo6q-fVlpYo-VaCE5ndcuJ80LPPLnQ/s320/20130705_183157.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A fishing boat is all there is to take these newlyweds out on the lake</td></tr>
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We take dips in the lake, stroll round the island and generally enjoy the laidback atmostphere and comfortable temperatures. It's a pleasant surprise to find that we need a duvet at night. One day we exert ourselves to go for a walk round a nearby national park with fellow guest Neesh, a Sri Lankan born civil engineer from Australia.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHuOCkHpOr6fQtM9faVNFbaNFIzwMND9Cph3Lg50S_oAzkcXWzEnRhVgsdV1-sVfl4LIiJ_zLl4w8qROvdYY7cck7X-L8YrpI3KEUBRkZMzeA6AtFr9VGE38da7BKkImmYwGu-1xX_x_0/s1600/20130706_112128.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHuOCkHpOr6fQtM9faVNFbaNFIzwMND9Cph3Lg50S_oAzkcXWzEnRhVgsdV1-sVfl4LIiJ_zLl4w8qROvdYY7cck7X-L8YrpI3KEUBRkZMzeA6AtFr9VGE38da7BKkImmYwGu-1xX_x_0/s320/20130706_112128.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Neesh and Cathy lead the way through the woods</td></tr>
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We sample the freshwater perch and on our last night, we make short work of a huge plate of crayfish. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIYUvy_bNpTsO5A2YoEueKLZpoQICNigmYDBTXnE_nIRzkQWxFeqOcRu5tgvyNt_IJQJFUS1TmhbT54rNFLChLUnKTL4y7I4zNMnQbRP32tlunm9iQvq5s6znIh42OZR97gFRKrR4CKck/s1600/20130707_204734.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIYUvy_bNpTsO5A2YoEueKLZpoQICNigmYDBTXnE_nIRzkQWxFeqOcRu5tgvyNt_IJQJFUS1TmhbT54rNFLChLUnKTL4y7I4zNMnQbRP32tlunm9iQvq5s6znIh42OZR97gFRKrR4CKck/s320/20130707_204734.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before.....</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC6mQUkDyI3fPD02-AUjXJvLhM0RzUPiT9kq1q0C3djJure_dtnPG6AW9ua6UjUHCZ8O6FjfMqEu7b1U7h7fQjwLnaaZd6b-FFWJrCUNRu_06Rkpa3x9nzDezgtVeTRekZExFR6mtKbZE/s1600/20130707_210732.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC6mQUkDyI3fPD02-AUjXJvLhM0RzUPiT9kq1q0C3djJure_dtnPG6AW9ua6UjUHCZ8O6FjfMqEu7b1U7h7fQjwLnaaZd6b-FFWJrCUNRu_06Rkpa3x9nzDezgtVeTRekZExFR6mtKbZE/s320/20130707_210732.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">.......and after</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoDNuV89tM_bQiSCUcFXdwQ_usxxuep0HwDCrH31SL_PzZt0Pea1cpfm9aDaNWBIKVco92Wt1O9nED1m1_hv9ZJ13rpAAMo48I4O0HmP8O5GcfNOIxbvb2__pyc0btwqeVEXGZLKuIAAM/s1600/20130705_195912.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoDNuV89tM_bQiSCUcFXdwQ_usxxuep0HwDCrH31SL_PzZt0Pea1cpfm9aDaNWBIKVco92Wt1O9nED1m1_hv9ZJ13rpAAMo48I4O0HmP8O5GcfNOIxbvb2__pyc0btwqeVEXGZLKuIAAM/s320/20130705_195912.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sun sets on another glorious day</td></tr>
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<br />We wanted to go up to Sagalossos, an impressive Psidian site in the mountains 75km away, but we didn't make it as there was no-one willing to share the trip cost with us. Never mind. When finally it's time to board the bus for the seven hour trip back to the boat in Kusadasi, we're sorry to leave but console ourselves with the thought that we'll be back one day. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRM7k8oip_Ufjr1_Wh-v-UZCKi6QH5wl_N7jxAi3nJbWuDiQtiq8G_2EU5S-ZKFwLX7bRpGQiQRuSBm8GYlgfGJTij8KH8qCrDOn7sVNgNIcAtUSSMXU5lPJm5DBKH4IUjJSTJbXqK_Q/s1600/20130706_111139.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRM7k8oip_Ufjr1_Wh-v-UZCKi6QH5wl_N7jxAi3nJbWuDiQtiq8G_2EU5S-ZKFwLX7bRpGQiQRuSBm8GYlgfGJTij8KH8qCrDOn7sVNgNIcAtUSSMXU5lPJm5DBKH4IUjJSTJbXqK_Q/s320/20130706_111139.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reluctant to drag ourselves away</td></tr>
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Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-71815729095993428702013-07-11T11:58:00.000+01:002020-01-03T16:25:22.727+00:00A week of land cruising - Stage 1 to Pamukkale<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnI5bwjWetmqZbKCsoVjf3jt0CInBn21iMVHLzt728O3TE8jSHgwU6JurMsWZSDL3Gnv8gEkmMyx3ZbxM_W34v9PQo9zICkW-weYVpN7wp1VvcXQfVRbN2FILjWV7ZPSZWXizV-K_6P9U/s1600/20130702_193238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>We're taking a week's break from the boat and the heat on the coast to do some land cruising by bus. We've left the boat in the marina at Kusadasi and are going first to Pamukkale, then on to Egirdir in Turkey's Lake District. </div>
<br />Seen from a distance Pamukkale (Cotton Castle in Turkish) looks like an unsightly scar of quarried rock set in the hillside. Get closer and an extraordinary sight unfolds. Layer upon layer of freshwater pools formed by the accumulation of white travertine limestone climb up the hill. Alkaline-rich warm water trickles down the hillside out of underground thermal springs and over thousands of years has deposited the limestone on the slopes to form these iconic pools.<br />
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The Romans discovered the place first. To enjoy the healthgiving waters here they built the spa city of Hierapolis, the remains of which can still be seen. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entering Roman Hierapolis</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leighton inspects the Roman latrines</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tomb submerged in limestone</td></tr>
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Pamukkale, now a World Heritage site, is still attracting visitors today - along with the Blue Mosque and Ephesus it's a must-see on most tourist intineraries. These days they come by the coachload to swim in the constant 38 degrees of what's known as Cleopatra's pool, and paddle in the warm alka-seltzer water on the hillside. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cleopatra's Pool</td></tr>
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On advice from the people at the delightful Venus pension where we stayed, we arrived at the site late in the afternoon after most of the coaches have left. We started at the top of the hill to explore the extensive ruins of Hieropolis. Then it was off with our sandals at the crest of the hill to walk down among the travertine pools laid out below us.<br />
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Walking barefoot down the hill is a curious experience. The limestone is rough and ridged like the hard sand exposed on the beach at low tide.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnI5bwjWetmqZbKCsoVjf3jt0CInBn21iMVHLzt728O3TE8jSHgwU6JurMsWZSDL3Gnv8gEkmMyx3ZbxM_W34v9PQo9zICkW-weYVpN7wp1VvcXQfVRbN2FILjWV7ZPSZWXizV-K_6P9U/s1600/20130702_193238.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnI5bwjWetmqZbKCsoVjf3jt0CInBn21iMVHLzt728O3TE8jSHgwU6JurMsWZSDL3Gnv8gEkmMyx3ZbxM_W34v9PQo9zICkW-weYVpN7wp1VvcXQfVRbN2FILjWV7ZPSZWXizV-K_6P9U/s320/20130702_193238.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
In the pools, the water is like warm tea and sludgy grey mud squelches between your toes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxGuSGYE0htipLS1Dxx2GoyWHnmOCfpJrTlTHN3FY6iAjY1ntexpPlEVSpY_nvPQsk2uSsv-tJCsnC414JAu0SipZE1-0PMQfOnY1v208TPNRR0-6HHgk6E-D6nuZN5XOFzl8x1zCqg8/s1600/20130702_190127.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxGuSGYE0htipLS1Dxx2GoyWHnmOCfpJrTlTHN3FY6iAjY1ntexpPlEVSpY_nvPQsk2uSsv-tJCsnC414JAu0SipZE1-0PMQfOnY1v208TPNRR0-6HHgk6E-D6nuZN5XOFzl8x1zCqg8/s320/20130702_190127.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leighton cools off in one of the pools</td></tr>
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Everyone's supposed to walk down the same way to limit erosion from the hordes of visitors. Half way down, Cathy ignored the notices to keep to the path and took off up a slope to look at a formation of stalagtites she remembered from her last visit here in the 70s until an irate policeman whistled her back down. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjnNXv97DeVII5AoulH-1roCBWKWJ-gaMW97uQ7oFSGudX6IYLqEZ4H1taNPXhncTfF7C6ZeJhMgx5sDBX5mjemG0c_uE4uO8WRU4s7osrnZDVQ60G0QL7cESp-7WOySv1J53d0_UkFE/s1600/20130702_193344.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjnNXv97DeVII5AoulH-1roCBWKWJ-gaMW97uQ7oFSGudX6IYLqEZ4H1taNPXhncTfF7C6ZeJhMgx5sDBX5mjemG0c_uE4uO8WRU4s7osrnZDVQ60G0QL7cESp-7WOySv1J53d0_UkFE/s320/20130702_193344.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This distant figure is Cathy going off-piste</td></tr>
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The next day we took the dolmus to Karahayik, determined to see what Alison our friend from Finike described as a giant turd. Here it is.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX1JlvNhAlaAOKUjk4xWW5DAyCxum-PHr74Xb2KfIwvnQx6MhiCfumKsOfXNwWRHU3WJLU-0zRLb5DCRLl4jDOlUHlP0TflFrr1JOxDyDZAkQKCWsxHAO2Bo2e8JNOqFPkrNVi07MgV6I/s1600/20130703_112953.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX1JlvNhAlaAOKUjk4xWW5DAyCxum-PHr74Xb2KfIwvnQx6MhiCfumKsOfXNwWRHU3WJLU-0zRLb5DCRLl4jDOlUHlP0TflFrr1JOxDyDZAkQKCWsxHAO2Bo2e8JNOqFPkrNVi07MgV6I/s320/20130703_112953.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leighton holds his nose beside the giant 'turd'</td></tr>
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The greenish brown mud here is supposed to be good for pretty much any ailment you can think of. Steaming hot water bubbles out of this revolting looking orifice and flows down into the mud baths. Bathers cover themselves in mud and leave it until it's caked dry before sluicing themselves down to get clean.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNRjcpcKxeazWrDF29DXNsJolxk4WX17jpbDPm2HAs2q6_XG9nq2cZPRNDLKo25UhpbCfDGv5vS03nfuLocVvm08P49yIDUeMEWPTB3zJ4b75imQQpVfQBhfz8dkz8LBkisU1nA6kY40U/s1600/20130703_114910.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNRjcpcKxeazWrDF29DXNsJolxk4WX17jpbDPm2HAs2q6_XG9nq2cZPRNDLKo25UhpbCfDGv5vS03nfuLocVvm08P49yIDUeMEWPTB3zJ4b75imQQpVfQBhfz8dkz8LBkisU1nA6kY40U/s320/20130703_114910.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPPefNRCJ6C6RiHHbDxAM5ArAy4_bIgPPQzn-nVlimyRwemCUTfcTAm9ndwwB6VtwiKOAGWSP56TLy7n2elhaM1zrJyeoSmDDvB6rHD5jdWdLe14EDdajYc3aoynoVgJce3fDss-zXuDc/s1600/20130703_120548.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPPefNRCJ6C6RiHHbDxAM5ArAy4_bIgPPQzn-nVlimyRwemCUTfcTAm9ndwwB6VtwiKOAGWSP56TLy7n2elhaM1zrJyeoSmDDvB6rHD5jdWdLe14EDdajYc3aoynoVgJce3fDss-zXuDc/s320/20130703_120548.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9W3eyV8Z2NxFBTSB6imrZwogqJuMRRuXikdG-z89S1ILDs6oNnic8kOmtgbFXEL6xXXLxKFjf56Si4VeSHNcWzAJU1whQDExhb2HJPicYPNZFBSuFcLNfmkZacbNJEMq_JLQOuij4TRg/s1600/20130703_121501.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9W3eyV8Z2NxFBTSB6imrZwogqJuMRRuXikdG-z89S1ILDs6oNnic8kOmtgbFXEL6xXXLxKFjf56Si4VeSHNcWzAJU1whQDExhb2HJPicYPNZFBSuFcLNfmkZacbNJEMq_JLQOuij4TRg/s320/20130703_121501.jpg" width="320" /></a> <br />
Somehow the idea of a mud bath didn't appeal - must be something to do with the sweltering sun.....or the disgusting sulphur smell. We wimped out and cooled down in the pension swimming pool instead.<br /></div>
Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-9516276088686969282013-06-25T09:42:00.000+01:002020-01-03T16:25:23.887+00:00Honor visits and it blows like stink<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The meltemi arrived the same day Honor landed at Izmir airport for a week’s holiday onboard. No chance of the gentle day sails with a lunch stop at anchor we’d planned when the forecast is showing northerly force 6&7 all week, day and night. Luckily Honor’s not an ultra keen sailor so she doesn’t mind that the boat’s staying firmly tied up in Teos marina. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjwx6X3YVAH-lUK4fHqSHXcEK0sINg8hVTjJwoQ5WIibwT_upYwsvAV8cllWIloD2j_VW65OABXZkw3HOX82VbiXSW9_TMF02C4k-ig4MQvj5wLfhVVfnIfVMClTzOffKWMfeOhGpJJdqK/s1600/20130615_222935.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjwx6X3YVAH-lUK4fHqSHXcEK0sINg8hVTjJwoQ5WIibwT_upYwsvAV8cllWIloD2j_VW65OABXZkw3HOX82VbiXSW9_TMF02C4k-ig4MQvj5wLfhVVfnIfVMClTzOffKWMfeOhGpJJdqK/s320/20130615_222935.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
Party time - we’re invited to join fellow boat owners at a marina concert celebrating the start of summer.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBnWNHwop5eE0ga2_nic9OR_XNFwqGyOITnJ2JgfAnW2OfVRy_7ekfHzIKexU7L55YhvKqwY_kgaLMsBNI_y5orZBT-5o2eByURobboZeymX9m325N6J_gjhAahLeLbVIhCw_2RF2ajI_/s1600/20130616_113750.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBnWNHwop5eE0ga2_nic9OR_XNFwqGyOITnJ2JgfAnW2OfVRy_7ekfHzIKexU7L55YhvKqwY_kgaLMsBNI_y5orZBT-5o2eByURobboZeymX9m325N6J_gjhAahLeLbVIhCw_2RF2ajI_/s320/20130616_113750.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
Sigacik (with Seferihisar) is proud to be the only slow food town in Turkey. The snail, emblem of citta slow, is a must-see landmark. But why is it bright pink?<br />
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After a couple of days sitting by the pool, or at the local beach getting a sand facial in the wind, we hired a car and did a circuit up the little Meander valley and back to Selcuk returning along the coast road to Teos. <br />
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Our locally produced guidebook recommended visiting Tire, a village in the little Meander valley. It turned out to be nondescript warren of alleys lined with stalls selling tin buckets, shoes and garish jewellery - with no sign of the ‘cultural assets’ and local handicrafts of felt, clogs and quilts promised in the guide’s effusive description.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo6TkF3VnVJj49uP4211_256CSkgSo3cwV6fjW46U8r_5DMd91bczmRFz6-05s7mZG4CnYsMW2mGLXAaYjqn0GJStJC_i_-JQVZyxWuBngplcKY8k9h1FISpgIAhhe7fvXgbMG3U3JgW-Y/s1600/20130619_122438.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo6TkF3VnVJj49uP4211_256CSkgSo3cwV6fjW46U8r_5DMd91bczmRFz6-05s7mZG4CnYsMW2mGLXAaYjqn0GJStJC_i_-JQVZyxWuBngplcKY8k9h1FISpgIAhhe7fvXgbMG3U3JgW-Y/s320/20130619_122438.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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After sampling the local grape sherbet and watching a weaver on his loom in an old hamam, we pressed on for lunch at Sirince, a hilltown perched above Selcuk. Much better. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje1F2tpthc29mDhY3gV0pPSRnIh8FXSat1vlFLUjfxiF7lqVBvXPwB5ZQngN2YQ8nfF-JQFopAj9UdWYYCwFbDDNQlZ0AAahBPT5p1e7IVLkXDJXOdeUYhFyNFl18ZalBk8MZyICoGKTie/s1600/20130619_143332.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje1F2tpthc29mDhY3gV0pPSRnIh8FXSat1vlFLUjfxiF7lqVBvXPwB5ZQngN2YQ8nfF-JQFopAj9UdWYYCwFbDDNQlZ0AAahBPT5p1e7IVLkXDJXOdeUYhFyNFl18ZalBk8MZyICoGKTie/s320/20130619_143332.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch on shady terrace at Sirince</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih7q6OAIWftrjbJHXh-HpKheU116x4zpjopJPUQHwH8MtqsPqTSdhVUnlZwqbwpD67x_Ju-QncVshH3w92kgCZkzCk6VEKk0OdqeHWLoqCT4ZDspHZs_ifp4FftxTmylcOPL06iIdYFSyR/s1600/20130619_150921.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih7q6OAIWftrjbJHXh-HpKheU116x4zpjopJPUQHwH8MtqsPqTSdhVUnlZwqbwpD67x_Ju-QncVshH3w92kgCZkzCk6VEKk0OdqeHWLoqCT4ZDspHZs_ifp4FftxTmylcOPL06iIdYFSyR/s320/20130619_150921.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sirince</td></tr>
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Another day saw us cooling off at Ramo beach, close to Cesme. Although it faced south away from the wind, loads of whitecaps surfed past offshore.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgySV7klJlp8YjHi8Kle7Su3N2hmA27W16QRHCGjGTAgMJ-vehcCWfGzMBpTAM7eKwA_tc0m7_mzquJOZX5cDnpX1sxrsGOxH3wNrSupZK0AvOU6Lz6sr2EIDfUU5ZT4eedYTvwmjeBwIxG/s1600/20130620_111855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgySV7klJlp8YjHi8Kle7Su3N2hmA27W16QRHCGjGTAgMJ-vehcCWfGzMBpTAM7eKwA_tc0m7_mzquJOZX5cDnpX1sxrsGOxH3wNrSupZK0AvOU6Lz6sr2EIDfUU5ZT4eedYTvwmjeBwIxG/s320/20130620_111855.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Our unreliable guidebook suggested visiting Urla on the way. The town is allegedly the oldest olive oil workshop in the world with ‘a very Aegean ambience’. But somehow we couldn’t quite bring ourselves to stop and see if it was true or not. We went to Alacati instead and watched hundreds of windsurfers blasting back and forth across the lagoon before heading back home. The wind’s still howling in the rigging - oh dear. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwe6_Qt04i7mq_8FamPq1tqiIEZZ9Yk5zYOPOwEV8bGfM2uOIUXHoV5xm5M9SNpkvPechwZtSU_IrzbBQ9OzSI41T6Riy6ZPO5I3aT1Y2fBcz2srCfBgYYxqXjEYsC6u-JjWUS8YYm8NM/s1600/20130621_201724.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwe6_Qt04i7mq_8FamPq1tqiIEZZ9Yk5zYOPOwEV8bGfM2uOIUXHoV5xm5M9SNpkvPechwZtSU_IrzbBQ9OzSI41T6Riy6ZPO5I3aT1Y2fBcz2srCfBgYYxqXjEYsC6u-JjWUS8YYm8NM/s320/20130621_201724.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying a meal out on our last evening together</td></tr>
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Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-29453718010023779392013-06-25T08:00:00.003+01:002020-01-03T16:25:21.177+00:00An easy downwind sail?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGHge53hA1eCkhO4n_40W6tDUUTW4tNBXCT8opdP2HwR9TnSb-2MBvrdrjrbgwhCvYTMxAh3MMwC_CQc6hVNmdv28xuVSy91YwgR2CFyWgsgCTadrYXfMZvfc3y3YgjX8BNHop198mjTne/s1600/20130613_141155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGHge53hA1eCkhO4n_40W6tDUUTW4tNBXCT8opdP2HwR9TnSb-2MBvrdrjrbgwhCvYTMxAh3MMwC_CQc6hVNmdv28xuVSy91YwgR2CFyWgsgCTadrYXfMZvfc3y3YgjX8BNHop198mjTne/s320/20130613_141155.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our destination - Teos Marina, Sigacik</td></tr>
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When people say that sailing in the Med is unrewarding, they probably have in mind a day like today. We started out from Cesme with a gentle northwesterly. That’s good, the wind’s behind the beam for a change. We hoist the mainsail and unroll the genoa and manage a few easy downhill miles until we reach the south end of the Chios channel where the wind dies. We roll up the genoa and turn on the engine to get round the corner. On the other side, we’re heading southeast along a pretty beach on the south side of the Cesme peninsula. In the lee of the land, the wind’s now a pretty lacklustre affair, sometimes puffing up, sometimes dying. We motor on. At least the tillerpilot is doing the steering for us. <br />
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After ten miles or so the wind gets up a bit from astern. We turn off the engine and unroll the genoa but it refuses to fill behind the main. We haul it over to the other side to see if it’ll fly there but that doesn’t work either. We don’t think it’s a good idea to pole it out as it’s a bitch to get back in when it starts to get gusty. We roll up the genoa and go on under the main alone. We fit the preventer to stop us gybing as we’re sailing dead downwind. The tillerpilot can’t be relied on in these conditions, so we set up the Aries windvane. But the wind blowing off the land changes direction all the time and our course begins to look like a drunken spider’s. Not good when we’re trying to make Teke Burun, the next headland. Leighton takes the helm instead. <br />
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On the approach to Teke Burun we’re on a sleigh ride with 20 knots up our stern. It gets to be hard work hanging on to the tiller. Not worth setting the Aries again as we’re almost there. We undo the preventer and gybe round the point. After that it’s just 10 miles to go to Teos across Sigacik Korfezi. Past the point the wind dies. On goes the engine again. Take out the windvane and set the tillerpilot again. <br />
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Half way across the bay, a fresh breeze pipes up at 60 degrees off the bow. I pop my head out of the companionway and seeing the strength of the wind, I ease the mainsheet, prompting the tillerpilot to seize up. Leighton, who’s been finessing the thing to steer properly since the point goes below in a huff. I hand steer. It’s a good sailing breeze, but it takes two to unroll the genny, and I don’t dare ask Leighton for his help. <br />
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As we near Teos, the GPS log registers 5000 nautical miles. We can’t remember if that’s since we set out from Plymouth, or since we left Ayamonte. Given that today we’ve only managed 34 miles in 8 hours, it represents many hundreds of hours of slow travel out on the water. What an achievement!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAiFQhTUY7ZoxYlauvsqX9n7ldeG-yCxlpsCwe2GEhHkkYSNVC5yogBqtjNQxHAhx-beUCSaqsr__X0MBRx9NpxDorLZtJSviGyFF2a-JDPil-Lxpb-Qf-jcrkwRXw5Vf9AAriLdBs4ba2/s1600/20130614_135856.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAiFQhTUY7ZoxYlauvsqX9n7ldeG-yCxlpsCwe2GEhHkkYSNVC5yogBqtjNQxHAhx-beUCSaqsr__X0MBRx9NpxDorLZtJSviGyFF2a-JDPil-Lxpb-Qf-jcrkwRXw5Vf9AAriLdBs4ba2/s320/20130614_135856.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cooling off by the marina swimming pool</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64pOaS6U8PE1vQ6UvMFIb8nhP0y0kH_F8FRreI_AUylOLQ5tb92L-uGPlTBZ3zEGyz0w-i8R6_gC8j6EdtTbIXDfYXAuM8_9LJLj6JnliIjJKI_woCDMOqS8OC3DYP98uyigx2kcYneT_/s1600/20130614_101317.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64pOaS6U8PE1vQ6UvMFIb8nhP0y0kH_F8FRreI_AUylOLQ5tb92L-uGPlTBZ3zEGyz0w-i8R6_gC8j6EdtTbIXDfYXAuM8_9LJLj6JnliIjJKI_woCDMOqS8OC3DYP98uyigx2kcYneT_/s320/20130614_101317.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cherries in season at Seferihisar market</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCQb_PJ-6DTAJchd7fbrrz05iBg77E6J5eDkUrdtMnDLi04d00aQdIJzPheq1uKPcdBAV319hMJkvvaS15HEBX3LZpuDD-IUpSROGPwP8-o-utQTqSOVY3Tc-PHsDU5sHzagJneztLCgLV/s1600/20130615_114343.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCQb_PJ-6DTAJchd7fbrrz05iBg77E6J5eDkUrdtMnDLi04d00aQdIJzPheq1uKPcdBAV319hMJkvvaS15HEBX3LZpuDD-IUpSROGPwP8-o-utQTqSOVY3Tc-PHsDU5sHzagJneztLCgLV/s320/20130615_114343.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leighton on the trail of old artefacts at the temple of Dionysus at ancient Teos</td></tr>
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Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-59510916864035764462013-06-12T08:36:00.000+01:002020-01-03T16:25:22.211+00:00Ayvalik - Greek ghost town<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
After a week at anchor and still no sign of the southerly wind abating, we head for the Setur Ayvalik marina for the weekend to top up the water tanks and have a much needed shower before heading off to explore the town of Ayvalik. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYVHf3LP6jSww3RFCiy1ExSQA7dS9RWsYgwlrdh1EkjyHPLGkytChrDyaSCt22SGy7Yz8J9V5V-Jq_dTP5p564_VkZX_RIsT_NTrVGb6ixvWYI_IbkS_KGlitSoIvbQLrJaEyNblWluVYp/s1600/20130603_113901.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYVHf3LP6jSww3RFCiy1ExSQA7dS9RWsYgwlrdh1EkjyHPLGkytChrDyaSCt22SGy7Yz8J9V5V-Jq_dTP5p564_VkZX_RIsT_NTrVGb6ixvWYI_IbkS_KGlitSoIvbQLrJaEyNblWluVYp/s320/20130603_113901.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smart waterfront properties on the way to Ayvalik </td></tr>
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Before the establishment of the Turkish republic, the market town of Ayvalik was a prosperous place of tanneries, mills and factories. In its heyday 20,000 people, mostly Greeks, lived here, working in 22 olive oil factories, 30 soap factories and 80 mills. 600 ships docked at its little port every year. All this commerce came to a grinding halt when the forced population exchange of the 1920’s sent the town's Greek residents to live in Crete, and Turks from Crete, Lesvos and Macedonia arrived to settle in Ayvalik.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUCQMDg5QX_QUICgFeZhhWyn6T0AA_ZqytARewf_fo8PINMEIrAd07KsLQYt0wIKpV4pWKXLP962hGhMY4iN4_M8MBv1vhXDMBgGTCXS88wYlCoU9lxDl8C19wDvmlWosh_ymPv3W-kh_/s1600/20130602_143453.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUCQMDg5QX_QUICgFeZhhWyn6T0AA_ZqytARewf_fo8PINMEIrAd07KsLQYt0wIKpV4pWKXLP962hGhMY4iN4_M8MBv1vhXDMBgGTCXS88wYlCoU9lxDl8C19wDvmlWosh_ymPv3W-kh_/s320/20130602_143453.jpg" width="320" /></a> <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-VvsuHHIEBpYLD5dsA48Ti0feTUUAFox9t8_Nbj_2uzkAFCcyhq0tK5MZES5qbN4c91Q06D6HX6fRyUTWsTqL-wnwCa5F4e6D7flrougBzDPbOnXyY_spkxXMvxJ97fX7v0eCBv64M3zS/s1600/20130602_135407.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-VvsuHHIEBpYLD5dsA48Ti0feTUUAFox9t8_Nbj_2uzkAFCcyhq0tK5MZES5qbN4c91Q06D6HX6fRyUTWsTqL-wnwCa5F4e6D7flrougBzDPbOnXyY_spkxXMvxJ97fX7v0eCBv64M3zS/s320/20130602_135407.jpg" width="268" /></a><br /><br />The town has never recaptured its former importance although much of the old architecture of the town still remains. The streets behind the quay are lined with boarded up stone warehouses and factories, some with faded Greek lettering still visible over the door. The newly arrived Turks added a minaret to the Greek Orthodox churches to convert them to mosques.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgezyAIxFekxwOGw8VCNyCw75iIb9ZLa-R8kyjYqyaCpjmvLcUfVBCUVXzilIexpZPDkUcmhcem-pk-E0qdMYhm4mLS3G96Un0lluTutMV4hxZHFHUWA_a1F5Kc-RlEml_UboMy0oC3stwT/s1600/20130602_141150.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgezyAIxFekxwOGw8VCNyCw75iIb9ZLa-R8kyjYqyaCpjmvLcUfVBCUVXzilIexpZPDkUcmhcem-pk-E0qdMYhm4mLS3G96Un0lluTutMV4hxZHFHUWA_a1F5Kc-RlEml_UboMy0oC3stwT/s320/20130602_141150.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
The cobbled streets are steep and narrow, overlooked by typical Greek and ottoman style houses, now decaying gently, many of them empty. There’s very little sign of the sort of gentrification and development that’s taken place in Alacati. We liked the fact that it’s still a working town with very few airs and graces. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQRoQ_bA3Pa88_1kpobmn1WNeDuvO_48TsX6-fOcJif0frI4goHplV0jGjNOsPVFHiRCosMvW2fjrN0zuOIIHtCG1SsPZ_B9j3rSj80NXgVWzEJBKGCzC6sirqEkyeuiUQUA2HqxLHRmj/s1600/20130602_135357.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQRoQ_bA3Pa88_1kpobmn1WNeDuvO_48TsX6-fOcJif0frI4goHplV0jGjNOsPVFHiRCosMvW2fjrN0zuOIIHtCG1SsPZ_B9j3rSj80NXgVWzEJBKGCzC6sirqEkyeuiUQUA2HqxLHRmj/s320/20130602_135357.jpg" width="320" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUtMrAFG3A_1n7C1awr3pZIsbz4-yvr4z_VQalaQmQlSOrYHQdgKp_583HPFkS2kXMcfBkhnsiieXthyphenhyphenC_k5iMBKJ5HTlrdfhh6FZUZYrayjDJBzVDkDntu4QYDcaHdElOwAejFOSxdxY6/s1600/20130602_141835.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUtMrAFG3A_1n7C1awr3pZIsbz4-yvr4z_VQalaQmQlSOrYHQdgKp_583HPFkS2kXMcfBkhnsiieXthyphenhyphenC_k5iMBKJ5HTlrdfhh6FZUZYrayjDJBzVDkDntu4QYDcaHdElOwAejFOSxdxY6/s320/20130602_141835.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
We didn't want to disturb this guy's siesta so we lug our bags of fresh provisions back to the marina on foot instead. When we head back to our anchorage on Monday, we think - just maybe - we can head south on Thursday. </div>
Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-26568607569989376682013-06-11T16:01:00.000+01:002020-01-03T16:25:20.852+00:00Getting hooked<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgej7r_mLCClxYYIUILvYevk7Ex1yjN-Fht4rl94xFZoEekC4emKL6XbAMxvMjnsQrPubGBNAtBOuYpXXs4Plfdds5b-o8jyBhUO8uLEjv2j5rz2J0tzCRsdjG_Tw3gx2C_UzMzgqhOoq0h/s1600/20130531_202451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Anchors are a bit like teenage sons. When they’re out of sight you have no idea what mischief they’re getting up to and your mind starts running over all sorts of ghastly outcomes if things go wrong. So when the wind gets up and the water’s too deep or murky to check that the anchor's properly hooked, we get ready for yet another sleepless night on anchor watch. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If only it was always this quiet at anchor....</td></tr>
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It blew 30 knots in our little anchorage in the Ayvalik archipelago one afternoon and all night. The couple on the only other yacht there had gone ashore when the wind got up. They got soaked getting back in their dinghy and no sooner were they onboard than their boat started to drag. When they hauled in their anchor it came up tangled in what looked like an old bike frame. We watched in horror as the wife struggled to control the boat to stop it from being swept sideways onto the shore while her husband in a fit of madness took to the dinghy to hack away the lump of scrap metal swinging beneath the bow. As we watched the wind carry them out of the anchorage, we dreaded the thought of going through the same nightmare. <br /><br />As it turned out, we needn’t have worried - that time anyway. When we came to leave, the bugel took some lifting because it was stuck fast in the stickiest mud we’ve ever come across, even better than Vliho’s. But the next time we came to leave……the anchor brought up with it a coil of thick rope - we think the remnants of some old mussel beds - still attached to the seabed. Thankfully it was easily sorted out, but you just never know with anchors - or with teenage boys for that matter. </div>
Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-72413189559760314802013-05-31T08:58:00.000+01:002020-01-03T16:25:22.855+00:00Ayvalik Archipelago<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The forecast was for W3 - a gentle reach. But we’re hard on the wind with two rolls in the genoa beating into a NW5 wondering if we’ll make the approach into Ayvalik without being blown onto a lee shore. <br /><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is serious - we've got the chart out!</td></tr>
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After a salty three hours we ease off the wind and relax, entering the narrow channel into the sheltered water of Ayvalik ‘lake’ to drop the sails inside.<br /><br />We’ve just spent a sociable few days with our Swiss friends Mike and Corinne on Cleophea and Agios Nikolaos friends Mike and Annie on Kandeed who are sailing in company with them. We’ve gone our separate ways again now - they to Halkidiki and us to Ayvalik. We wish them fair winds and good sailing. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What could be better - dinner with friends</td></tr>
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The large enclosed lake at Ayvalik and the offlying islands form an attractive archipelago that promises sheltered cruising and a variety of secure anchorages. It is the furthest north we’re going this season. When the wind goes northerly again we’ll start heading back south. <br /><br />With no sign of the southerlies abating we anchor in a little bay off Camlik Koyu. The mussel beds marked on the chart have gone, leaving a pleasant inlet with all-round shelter. At the head of the bay lies a holiday village and two small hotels. A scattering of blue beach umbrellas line the narrow beach which this early in the season has very few holidaymakers. The place is ideal to stay while waiting for a favourable wind. Ashore there’s most of what we need - a small kiosk selling fresh bread and other staples, toilets and an outside shower, walking trails that meander over wooded hills that surround us. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A calm day in the Ayvalik archipelago</td></tr>
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While it’s still calm one morning we climb a steep conical hill known as the Devil’s Table from local folklore which tells of devils meeting here to drink and make merry. At the top there’s not even an empty beer can to be seen, but we enjoy a good view of all the bays and islands that make up the archipelago. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidxwHkwJNx5RDjMiZumd48iVPyhrgmcVZJgqF8kA34N5g5O-X4mR6xM31YoTMbf_yNdxKqOD3WG_WtyDya2YQ9a6a3_8yP-7bwdBzrrcpDQRP2k-BV132jJDwRbh7PvowJOFyFVjNNi6zY/s1600/20130528_110841.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidxwHkwJNx5RDjMiZumd48iVPyhrgmcVZJgqF8kA34N5g5O-X4mR6xM31YoTMbf_yNdxKqOD3WG_WtyDya2YQ9a6a3_8yP-7bwdBzrrcpDQRP2k-BV132jJDwRbh7PvowJOFyFVjNNi6zY/s320/20130528_110841.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Devil's Table hill from the anchorage</td></tr>
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Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-26397138219048113592013-05-22T09:52:00.001+01:002020-01-03T16:25:20.723+00:00We do posh<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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What an idyllic place to spend Cathy's birthday. A scattering of houses, a sandy beach, a herd of goats and turquoise blue clear water. In the afternoon reality bites when a stiff onshore breeze blows up. Luckily we find a more sheltered spot to anchor nearby where we could celebrate with birthday cake and candles.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOSgFf7YZJ12CpK2FMYJF8EX4MSil5Vae5SLwVALwQPlFv5pLraon7e4eqTNlycI8Kyb3vkR-ENS2qmMJIzGHNyW7tuRS9-zO7LlqZUo2TAaCsfouzXa2RBR-QgJYvfQK0qOagLyqIByOM/s1600/20130515_194106.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOSgFf7YZJ12CpK2FMYJF8EX4MSil5Vae5SLwVALwQPlFv5pLraon7e4eqTNlycI8Kyb3vkR-ENS2qmMJIzGHNyW7tuRS9-zO7LlqZUo2TAaCsfouzXa2RBR-QgJYvfQK0qOagLyqIByOM/s320/20130515_194106.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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The next day the forecast is showing gusty southerlies for forty eight hours. After one long night on anchor watch this week already we feel like tying up to something solid while it lasts. Cesme marina is run by Camper & Nicholson, a British company that runs upmarket marinas not usually used by budget conscious liveaboards. But it’s the most conveniently situated on our way north. Having phoned ahead to find out the price for two nights’ stay, we decide to go in. <br /><br />On the way in Leighton starts to look worried. ‘I’m not sure our £5 million indemnity insurance will go very far if we bump into one of those superyachts,’ he observes. The marinero guiding us in from his inflatable RIB wants us to back down a narrow corridor between two pontoons. We look at him in disbelief. A long keeler like Makarma doesn’t go astern obediently like your average white boat, especially when it’s a bit breezy. ‘We’ll need some help then,’ we reply. A second marinero turns up in another boat, and with a RIB on either side to nudge us the right way, Leighton manoeuvres Makarma back into a snug berth alongside the pontoon.<br /><br />We find ourselves between a black and white gin palace that you’ve probably seen in a Bond film and a sleek yacht with Raymarine satellite domes and monogrammed fender socks. Expensive boats line the pontoons and exclusive boutiques and glossy eateries line the shore. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigzxuXwU7XylwWiBcVdq36RnnDedcgq5zMI9JYspc70twaLAx4f3xk3HQxN79G9Q2L0iptHEmvsuIf6CnPqT1yhcalcNACt0F3cMoSVucfhwDtWbhPRC2tDCDShgDSWVMTOjgG0x8AqrVA/s1600/20130516_154725.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigzxuXwU7XylwWiBcVdq36RnnDedcgq5zMI9JYspc70twaLAx4f3xk3HQxN79G9Q2L0iptHEmvsuIf6CnPqT1yhcalcNACt0F3cMoSVucfhwDtWbhPRC2tDCDShgDSWVMTOjgG0x8AqrVA/s320/20130516_154725.jpg" width="320" /></a><br /><br />We haven’t put a foot on land for three days. Better smarten up before we check in at the office. We head for the showers. They have Philippe Starck power showerheads and Dyson airblade hand dryers (brilliant for drying washed knickers we discover later). When we’re all brushed up we head off to town to track down the Rumeli ice cream parlour which is reputed to make the best ice-cream in the north Aegean.<br />
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In a small museum inside Cesme's impressive Genoese fort we learn that the place took a bit of a battering when the Russian fleet on orders of Catherine the Great attacked Cesme harbour in 1771. Russian fireships destroyed the entire Ottoman fleet which was trapped inside. Good thing the harbour's changed a bit since then and in our secure berth inside we don't even have to worry about the weather. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of the marina from the Genoese fort</td></tr>
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Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-72971521729980156102013-05-17T18:56:00.001+01:002020-01-03T16:25:22.983+00:00VISIT TO EPHESUS and TEOS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">YOU CAN’T BE SIRIUS !</span></h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-0FYpN7yqUl6nUPfZgpm7aqKILoTj1Oq3oEuQSoM_GvJDwEwpb4hJUsFxLFj_Q1kjSq_YhrsKV6qih6Lh05SaqQr96acVBL5cHoOyjlto2Ks485hCRQwAcScwcyU48DxanvonLVhoEGx-/s1600/20130509_194850.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-0FYpN7yqUl6nUPfZgpm7aqKILoTj1Oq3oEuQSoM_GvJDwEwpb4hJUsFxLFj_Q1kjSq_YhrsKV6qih6Lh05SaqQr96acVBL5cHoOyjlto2Ks485hCRQwAcScwcyU48DxanvonLVhoEGx-/s320/20130509_194850.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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In our travels we see amazing boats of every size, shape,
and design. This one called “Sirius” looked a bit like the Beatles "Yellow
Submarine"! Believe it or not, people go around the world in things like
this!</div>
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In a previous blog Cathy mentioned about the number of
Turkish, Greek, and Russian boats that some how are "registered" in
the United States, and fly American flags. This is obviously some kind of
tax dodge? Most of the boats seem to be registered in "Delaware". </div>
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he registered in "Daleware", but his American flag is on upside down!</span><br />
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EPHESUS AT LAST!</h2>
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One of our objectives of heading north up the west coast of Turkey was to
visit the ancient site of Ephesus.<br />
After a couple of hundred miles from Finike we reached Kusadasi, the closest
town to safely leave the boat. We decided to check into the Kusadasi Marina for
the night and visit Ephesus the following morning. <br />
It cost something like 70 euros to take a taxi from Kusadasi up to the
site. We caught the local dolmus for 10 TL and got off on the main road
and walked the last two kilometers to the site.<br />
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<h3 style="text-align: left;">
THE EPHESUS SITE</h3>
Ephesus was the Roman capital of Asia Minor and is steeped in history. St.
Paul, St. John, The Virgin Mary, and Alexander The Great have all been here at
one time or another!<br />
The city used to be served by a harbour at the end of the main street
leading up to the theatre. Over time the harbour silted up and left Ephesus
about 8 Km (5 Miles) inland from the sea.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcH3z-lg6VaZYGOUXweGSuB_M-TPsP4lStovrZVFQll2-3Ct-F3PKqI5iz0G7pAjs8CsTQ_nqTuyFv3My6maqdSgSYU7hBmfDgm-7H1jpFqqSU6f0LxEOK_ePXziOhc2KBiMaJS4Z5KCJb/s1600/20130510_134802.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcH3z-lg6VaZYGOUXweGSuB_M-TPsP4lStovrZVFQll2-3Ct-F3PKqI5iz0G7pAjs8CsTQ_nqTuyFv3My6maqdSgSYU7hBmfDgm-7H1jpFqqSU6f0LxEOK_ePXziOhc2KBiMaJS4Z5KCJb/s320/20130510_134802.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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[Cathy looking at an areial view of the site showing the old harbour]<br />
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sailors and visitors. When they arrived they would dock their ship in the
protected harbour to unload their goods. They would then pass through the
massive gate opening on to one of Ephesus' wide white marble streets lined
with torches for more than a quarter of a mile to the huge theatre at its end.</span> </div>
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the street was roped off to protect two nesting storks nesting on top of one of
the columns at the harbour end of the street.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInNKUgHXeURxhYLHp_laCXqaBPjGg_vkDOvbJ6DcFLQBr7HkMCGCLxB-WhVZ3iQWjG7qr6PG002TPiF9pkLZRoy3Hss-qDtd9zhE8Kq2wuKMKonGG2_hYqbYJ4b2hjw4p80gF17xtxvhZ/s1600/20130510_145541.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInNKUgHXeURxhYLHp_laCXqaBPjGg_vkDOvbJ6DcFLQBr7HkMCGCLxB-WhVZ3iQWjG7qr6PG002TPiF9pkLZRoy3Hss-qDtd9zhE8Kq2wuKMKonGG2_hYqbYJ4b2hjw4p80gF17xtxvhZ/s320/20130510_145541.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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which made the white marble streets glisten, as they must have once shined in
the 7th century when they were first laid.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFt6pIMBkFFzbHp_N8Wh4uPuEj7SvX0ZFK8yY1hjrpXjl8dC_ekmd_u_V2xkFSopOBdlXvOFqSbtdE4U6dMK_IW4zHXQRFxKIpxk9id47DTiRSt-fnoAWa6pHGVthI3NVVE7JjvafvucWn/s1600/20130510_150431.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFt6pIMBkFFzbHp_N8Wh4uPuEj7SvX0ZFK8yY1hjrpXjl8dC_ekmd_u_V2xkFSopOBdlXvOFqSbtdE4U6dMK_IW4zHXQRFxKIpxk9id47DTiRSt-fnoAWa6pHGVthI3NVVE7JjvafvucWn/s320/20130510_150431.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The Ephesus site in huge and still largely unexcavated. We
did a complete circuit around the site following its marble streets out to the
edges of the city. Historians have calculated at its height the population of
Ephesus was around 250,000 making it one of the largest cities at its time in
the Mediterranean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Ephesus is usually swamped with visitors, as it is one
of the most popular sites in Turkey. The rain seemed to keep them in check so
for the most part we were able to explore in peace.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg73-BGAlzfcZuMGFyB2JJenpcFBZYmg-zoN1GBF7eMpvxjmC0l_s8qM4W1v4_Sw3eNv9SyF7BBvTwAAAFiyWVn-_MSxiV84jSoUe6yY1vcLSoWXcd3vZOId7TXaB5MujQ6Su8cJ7CTIhPG/s1600/20130510_151206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg73-BGAlzfcZuMGFyB2JJenpcFBZYmg-zoN1GBF7eMpvxjmC0l_s8qM4W1v4_Sw3eNv9SyF7BBvTwAAAFiyWVn-_MSxiV84jSoUe6yY1vcLSoWXcd3vZOId7TXaB5MujQ6Su8cJ7CTIhPG/s320/20130510_151206.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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</xml><![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">The site is littered with massive columns and
fragments of the ruins. As there never seem to be any stone masons tools in the
museums it is quite awesome that there was so much stone carving. For example,
how on earth did they start out with a quarried lump of marble, shape it, and
then turn the spiral grooves on the column in the picture above with such
precision? This column is some 500 CM in diameter and this piece alone probably
weighs more than a ton! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN98GTrEa2RDNcu7nJiIOxJxQb_RS6dLUGJwp-OP3EY8yDTAjr6g-r_jjOm-vb-9bovxpQ4Y90aDTOOWzdsjmKhWrIwfdY_nbdRfQEHe8SjNboTxQYkfI-y20XL2BCNX-lBMP7DtT9WQTJ/s1600/20130510_151911.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN98GTrEa2RDNcu7nJiIOxJxQb_RS6dLUGJwp-OP3EY8yDTAjr6g-r_jjOm-vb-9bovxpQ4Y90aDTOOWzdsjmKhWrIwfdY_nbdRfQEHe8SjNboTxQYkfI-y20XL2BCNX-lBMP7DtT9WQTJ/s320/20130510_151911.jpg" width="320" /></a> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
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off the beaten track. Above is a game board carved into a large stone. It is
easy to imagine youngsters gathered around it throwing a bone die and moving
their markers around the board.</span></div>
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The sun did come out eventually!</div>
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<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
THE EPHESUS THEATRE</h3>
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The Roman theatre is the largest in the Mediterranean. It
seated more than 24,000 people.</div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">St. Paul (with St. John’s help) is supposed to have
stood at the highest point in the eastern corner and “mass baptised” 40,000
assemble Ephesians.</span><br />
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<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
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</xml><![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">The theatre is still very much intact and is an
amazing feature of Ephesus.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4kpT_YtoxoCMTEMnJlegjpVtsjq48CZ0JHiKOE7vkcde4eLclLN_7zXH2nlejOWHQEhwyF0v2t1cR67xBoEdF5thCQ1eTYxLcSVxO-wk93g2fo_k1dO5GzJendZ-ttY0x0zDAKBeC1P9r/s1600/20130510_135514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4kpT_YtoxoCMTEMnJlegjpVtsjq48CZ0JHiKOE7vkcde4eLclLN_7zXH2nlejOWHQEhwyF0v2t1cR67xBoEdF5thCQ1eTYxLcSVxO-wk93g2fo_k1dO5GzJendZ-ttY0x0zDAKBeC1P9r/s320/20130510_135514.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Cathy, taking in the staggering size of the theatre. It is
hard to imagine what it was like when filled to capacity </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">THE CELSIUS LIBRARY</span></h3>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLfFl6Co4fl53nLmjYFIoiXW_-pReIEcgy4S6f03sY_0iEhaKes8h7LPYcZXe1NZZWrtob9y53s3xUz0XJOnT6YGu1cXcj9EdoWdW0ENuGBMTYxOgKF4e08BGdAU0TWWV3crAYQqwE9pR3/s1600/20130510_140500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLfFl6Co4fl53nLmjYFIoiXW_-pReIEcgy4S6f03sY_0iEhaKes8h7LPYcZXe1NZZWrtob9y53s3xUz0XJOnT6YGu1cXcj9EdoWdW0ENuGBMTYxOgKF4e08BGdAU0TWWV3crAYQqwE9pR3/s320/20130510_140500.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
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<w:DoNotOptimizeForBrowser/>
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</xml><![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">This was once the third largest library in the
world after Alexandria and Pergamon. It is said to have contained over 12,000
scrolls in its collection of writings.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisBU176u_Rwi0n-1IwvuhsL1cvMlD333EQA-AapOayOKNEaGxlM2AVVwGNLb_N6mWa-MV61ts_XgpQX-wYl1Z6eT-CgidusZ2z60IDfpoOPig1GMXj04AKBGFUR986dHfU1Ms70KV9arDR/s1600/20130510_140718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisBU176u_Rwi0n-1IwvuhsL1cvMlD333EQA-AapOayOKNEaGxlM2AVVwGNLb_N6mWa-MV61ts_XgpQX-wYl1Z6eT-CgidusZ2z60IDfpoOPig1GMXj04AKBGFUR986dHfU1Ms70KV9arDR/s320/20130510_140718.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">The entrance to the library was carefully
reconstructed stone by stone in the 19<sup>th</sup> century by archaeologists.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6x1sFEbCG4JwyZisguFrIZ3Ci-U6gheEkr44Xac-koqXVXrpT2OivOSpS1Lc0OeRXWutEfkce-6K_2tey99J-iLVeGbYRVtWrrkXM9QKQE1s_UrkvGIzwAm6K2CMd4wSmaaQ-wTyRBMPl/s1600/20130510_153511.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6x1sFEbCG4JwyZisguFrIZ3Ci-U6gheEkr44Xac-koqXVXrpT2OivOSpS1Lc0OeRXWutEfkce-6K_2tey99J-iLVeGbYRVtWrrkXM9QKQE1s_UrkvGIzwAm6K2CMd4wSmaaQ-wTyRBMPl/s320/20130510_153511.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cathy is looking down on some of the ruins in front of the
famous library.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
EPHESUS PLUMBING</h3>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOElH7UvXj_PLN_7KS6mV7l1hLLvTmiusExC6fmA1eU43pTlQlpwWmO0uWjcf6KUckxsBOoUEXHH8zDHcuNDMbTlcYXg7yrd7kfjOkWgdgBSQqpU_mPyKCDrFLQRgk9Qx1fXacWl4Rhx3P/s1600/20130510_134754.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOElH7UvXj_PLN_7KS6mV7l1hLLvTmiusExC6fmA1eU43pTlQlpwWmO0uWjcf6KUckxsBOoUEXHH8zDHcuNDMbTlcYXg7yrd7kfjOkWgdgBSQqpU_mPyKCDrFLQRgk9Qx1fXacWl4Rhx3P/s320/20130510_134754.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
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</xml><![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Ephesus had a very sophisticated system of
drains, sewers, and fresh water delivery. Everywhere on the site there are
drains and partially exposed pipes of the ancient water works.</span> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimw8xcRZ3GzptwclMHWxDtHij_wYqAWucoVdeIKTOJY8NkWJ9ee8MAi7ODFesyw18MahNZZB4rDFLgg29TLfxaufzZtyxsA6u3ZXnuaCl2Dt-edAQ_HbPATn5t9TW-0T2QF3LIylG_KTCd/s1600/20130510_141425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfSqCH73ErpFoEFcQGZrSp7TAC_541-QyQA2wnR_6GR4nsUfnjxowHtONE4VtqViSmt7paukn9UD2ilZ9X1mDJpXTkcixRbz9kbpG9wvvbQTR0Q9JaMwujNTJ_gyI93DWkJ-3qnOP2NrBY/s1600/20130510_145258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfSqCH73ErpFoEFcQGZrSp7TAC_541-QyQA2wnR_6GR4nsUfnjxowHtONE4VtqViSmt7paukn9UD2ilZ9X1mDJpXTkcixRbz9kbpG9wvvbQTR0Q9JaMwujNTJ_gyI93DWkJ-3qnOP2NrBY/s320/20130510_145258.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
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<w:DoNotOptimizeForBrowser/>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">No ISO standard sizes here! Each pipe would have
been made from clay and joined with cement.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> </span> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgil08oNwNDf2o4mpKLJfmlKS5Rj9BSJdYohpeb2qWCky0C_4IOPZtxT7zthvtM4zW1onIBTIslhaSuVw-_xzeBllywBmjm_2aiXjwOYMb2yEN-d9Lbe8N_AjfB-BSWRMRwwYvPJTSVt4tj/s1600/20130510_154740.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgil08oNwNDf2o4mpKLJfmlKS5Rj9BSJdYohpeb2qWCky0C_4IOPZtxT7zthvtM4zW1onIBTIslhaSuVw-_xzeBllywBmjm_2aiXjwOYMb2yEN-d9Lbe8N_AjfB-BSWRMRwwYvPJTSVt4tj/s320/20130510_154740.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
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</xml><![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">These pipes are carved from blocks of stone and
were used to carry fresh water via a siphon system from miles away from
Ephesus. We have seen this type of pipe before (but much larger) ‘in the wild’
as part of an aqueduct system between Kalkan and Patara.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> </span> <br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimw8xcRZ3GzptwclMHWxDtHij_wYqAWucoVdeIKTOJY8NkWJ9ee8MAi7ODFesyw18MahNZZB4rDFLgg29TLfxaufzZtyxsA6u3ZXnuaCl2Dt-edAQ_HbPATn5t9TW-0T2QF3LIylG_KTCd/s1600/20130510_141425.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimw8xcRZ3GzptwclMHWxDtHij_wYqAWucoVdeIKTOJY8NkWJ9ee8MAi7ODFesyw18MahNZZB4rDFLgg29TLfxaufzZtyxsA6u3ZXnuaCl2Dt-edAQ_HbPATn5t9TW-0T2QF3LIylG_KTCd/s320/20130510_141425.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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These are the Ephesus public toilets! Just in front of the
town Brothel. The waste was carried away by a constant flowing sewer system
about six feet below the toilet seats. A great place to sit and chat with your
neighbour!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
THE TERRACED HOUSES</h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Strangely the highlight of Ephesus is not over-run by
tourists. Perhaps it was because of the 15 TL entrance fee? I think we would
have gladly paid more.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmvyGjMTm4RgJhrcoWAie3QuzBgr0OSx8oOXERxnIU-rVI-sE_-if5M7dQbx_fJhbS8vyb3QDhO0u_jfai3esBvCajTc7clfCKMGlKZ_42I0V5ooNV9G8qjQFlW6qf9Miv3sdgpQwUcXuq/s1600/20130510_153824.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmvyGjMTm4RgJhrcoWAie3QuzBgr0OSx8oOXERxnIU-rVI-sE_-if5M7dQbx_fJhbS8vyb3QDhO0u_jfai3esBvCajTc7clfCKMGlKZ_42I0V5ooNV9G8qjQFlW6qf9Miv3sdgpQwUcXuq/s320/20130510_153824.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Called the “Terraced Houses” this is an ‘Eden Project’
style building that covers the hillside excavation of seven Roman houses and </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">an early Christian Basilica. The
excavation and renovations are continuing and archaeologists are permanently
working inside.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHFCBXuh-jV9omA53yzpdB5it0deW4T6Uj-yFqGaRKhPt_noKe0ZzCmbw9hoaDgPfbaRE_UmQ_3gagV6oD8amMtJ9RIdFZ4PFguhjZqzdWvuRqTVAtZe-hzCuYhMNPvohYK_7KHupLImym/s1600/20130510_143952.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHFCBXuh-jV9omA53yzpdB5it0deW4T6Uj-yFqGaRKhPt_noKe0ZzCmbw9hoaDgPfbaRE_UmQ_3gagV6oD8amMtJ9RIdFZ4PFguhjZqzdWvuRqTVAtZe-hzCuYhMNPvohYK_7KHupLImym/s320/20130510_143952.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
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<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
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</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">This is a photo above is of the site BEFORE the
building was constructed. Note there is an excavated area on the left of the
photo. To the right is the unexcavated area that will be covered by the new
building. Earthquakes caused the hillside to cover and preserve the houses in the
unexcavated area.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> </span> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiODPqUrRoc1Pc7oqGvYsHZEVuf7nfqxdpZkqVgjWigWqfLyvIZZsbMibvMY3AP22Sf496y9cSTbCCM9PHO2tvUfMdmH8UllQaeoWtwutL-kClVXczCto_9iQuAfxLi2B-p4U6n95J2ese/s1600/20130510_144001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiODPqUrRoc1Pc7oqGvYsHZEVuf7nfqxdpZkqVgjWigWqfLyvIZZsbMibvMY3AP22Sf496y9cSTbCCM9PHO2tvUfMdmH8UllQaeoWtwutL-kClVXczCto_9iQuAfxLi2B-p4U6n95J2ese/s320/20130510_144001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
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</xml><![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">This is an AFTER photo of the building that now
covers the previously unexcavated hillside houses.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmvyGjMTm4RgJhrcoWAie3QuzBgr0OSx8oOXERxnIU-rVI-sE_-if5M7dQbx_fJhbS8vyb3QDhO0u_jfai3esBvCajTc7clfCKMGlKZ_42I0V5ooNV9G8qjQFlW6qf9Miv3sdgpQwUcXuq/s1600/20130510_153824.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJw-LNKIuJxQ1kTH2xGGQOwclbyWfz_WUDABbd6gBnzocrawSP73lTop3tijbhwdEJRgcJUoTYWSPAFaUQdt1kw_HRY32qB3XhvlTiRSgwRWyCvSL5-TkgIKqP1mzD-6qWH9G1nlXLFlI0/s1600/20130510_142040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi51h_OP7kORGxMbunkWn25shQorw4QWhzHPBmIXMnfNHoDeWQ_klRdJ1cOLhERXtZAGNn7BNTRD8x1vwgH1WJpDHUdjXQ5nQCNzl_73nKF3zoP2tQTZxn_F9w3ZUsFjnPxsUGQ8hZf89Id/s1600/20130510_142336.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi51h_OP7kORGxMbunkWn25shQorw4QWhzHPBmIXMnfNHoDeWQ_klRdJ1cOLhERXtZAGNn7BNTRD8x1vwgH1WJpDHUdjXQ5nQCNzl_73nKF3zoP2tQTZxn_F9w3ZUsFjnPxsUGQ8hZf89Id/s320/20130510_142336.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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</xml><![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">This is a photo of inside the new building.
There are extensive glass catwalks that overlook the excavations below.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> </span> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjla1A4OQVWB25n5eejeyKwMAx3DoF0WcktS-5lNCMdfKMmDdX9Koq6UdtJPJOBgVT43nNEf4FoWZmNHanz_drCqec3pDU5D-mfxkm3EjYbtolw9OuoXWEqB3-vIY60SVkc2oVVqNb1VId_/s1600/20130510_143155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjla1A4OQVWB25n5eejeyKwMAx3DoF0WcktS-5lNCMdfKMmDdX9Koq6UdtJPJOBgVT43nNEf4FoWZmNHanz_drCqec3pDU5D-mfxkm3EjYbtolw9OuoXWEqB3-vIY60SVkc2oVVqNb1VId_/s320/20130510_143155.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">If you look closely you can see there are
archaeologists working in the top left corner of the photo restoring a wall
painting like those uncovered in the foreground.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhkJ9NU2Wda6Sz7T1OVjieGwjE7BO2ZJDCWVusu0vw4w7qn42UfgVlwtXAT_oBYmRAHIJ71KjL6vVj50RUx6_DNI9tP5-Ag-7toKw7saqoozeEZooexBQuZMaPCvkVGbG6UDtS63sBTU9Q/s1600/20130510_143339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhkJ9NU2Wda6Sz7T1OVjieGwjE7BO2ZJDCWVusu0vw4w7qn42UfgVlwtXAT_oBYmRAHIJ71KjL6vVj50RUx6_DNI9tP5-Ag-7toKw7saqoozeEZooexBQuZMaPCvkVGbG6UDtS63sBTU9Q/s320/20130510_143339.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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below and what you see really brings to life what it must have been like in the
lives of the rich Romans that lived here. Simply amazing! This is a Turkish
Pompeii.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> </span> <br />
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</div>
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy9-V2CyjHEUnYT4HoZ5UT9EWWFrDgQV1pVpb0fwVS19CTUv2qEzTdFhjQwRKTLtCAlwgUm96CgGdJhvaFnW0eSdA62g2t5ZP3qcLNzaa7PvBVKJr4Nh1pt_1CetLfVxlIzjWhHxDfctCF/s1600/20130510_143611.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy9-V2CyjHEUnYT4HoZ5UT9EWWFrDgQV1pVpb0fwVS19CTUv2qEzTdFhjQwRKTLtCAlwgUm96CgGdJhvaFnW0eSdA62g2t5ZP3qcLNzaa7PvBVKJr4Nh1pt_1CetLfVxlIzjWhHxDfctCF/s320/20130510_143611.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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</xml><![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Looking down on to an internal courtyard. Note
the fine mosaics. Many of the rooms had under floor heating (Hypocausts) and
running hot and cold water.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJw-LNKIuJxQ1kTH2xGGQOwclbyWfz_WUDABbd6gBnzocrawSP73lTop3tijbhwdEJRgcJUoTYWSPAFaUQdt1kw_HRY32qB3XhvlTiRSgwRWyCvSL5-TkgIKqP1mzD-6qWH9G1nlXLFlI0/s1600/20130510_142040.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJw-LNKIuJxQ1kTH2xGGQOwclbyWfz_WUDABbd6gBnzocrawSP73lTop3tijbhwdEJRgcJUoTYWSPAFaUQdt1kw_HRY32qB3XhvlTiRSgwRWyCvSL5-TkgIKqP1mzD-6qWH9G1nlXLFlI0/s320/20130510_142040.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>
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Here archaeologists are piecing the fragments of the
plastered ceiling of the early Christian Basilica together to recover the
paintings that were on the ceiling brought down by past earthquakes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">The "Terraced Houses" were certainly the highlight of our visit to
Ephesus.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNOPYqp9avHnC7ci1s5_3Ymg-kOndpGILshBqwZyDa0LybRVKMw6l0LhoxuPhyphenhyphenihSReSgYhyphenhyphenOlTfv0HAzcqsNwRAqc7cNjRnaWplZcV-VJAC-y8IOUeeVJfF7Pj2OraoQN9gQO_UQ7Bbh/s1600/20130510_150809.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNOPYqp9avHnC7ci1s5_3Ymg-kOndpGILshBqwZyDa0LybRVKMw6l0LhoxuPhyphenhyphenihSReSgYhyphenhyphenOlTfv0HAzcqsNwRAqc7cNjRnaWplZcV-VJAC-y8IOUeeVJfF7Pj2OraoQN9gQO_UQ7Bbh/s320/20130510_150809.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Look at that woman over there! </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
OMG, it's Cathy climbing on top of precious
ancient ruins to retrieve white mulberries from the tree! How embarrassing!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and FINALLY... </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">EPHESUS? WILD HORSES COULDN’T DRAG US AWAY…AND THEY ALMOST
DID!</span></h3>
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNmdDPhpWcxxIpDsyEQsqIzCTXywcTC12WXudTgKw6TsUwE3W2E0E7RHuHd0JH26U_fouZ0yQb5TsAz47GBqknEoZau3D2elgvGmrhe-2MI33MCNOCXV-Yt7vHUuinJ_RNB1ZOn2Qnn-TZ/s1600/20130510_162655.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNmdDPhpWcxxIpDsyEQsqIzCTXywcTC12WXudTgKw6TsUwE3W2E0E7RHuHd0JH26U_fouZ0yQb5TsAz47GBqknEoZau3D2elgvGmrhe-2MI33MCNOCXV-Yt7vHUuinJ_RNB1ZOn2Qnn-TZ/s320/20130510_162655.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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A last bit of excitement! While waiting to catch the dolmus back
to Kusadasi, there was suddenly a thundering of hooves. From around the corner someone’s
horses had escaped and were on the run. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[Needless to say, Leighton grabbed the halter of the nearest horse, swung up and riding bareback, caught the other horses...] Yeah, right! Leighton doesn't DO runnaway hay-burners!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: left;">
THE SAIL TO TEOS</h2>
<br />
The next morning we cast off from Kusadasi at 08:30 and arrived in Teos marina just
after 3 PM. A sea journey of about thirty five nautical miles.<br />
<br />
When we docked Makarma in the
assigned berth we met a delightful Turkish resident of Teos on the boat next
door who was taking his family out for a sail. Once we got settled, he told us
that there was the weekly slow food fair in town where people bring and sell
homemade food. Off we went!<br />
<br />
<br />
<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
THE TEOS FOOD FAIR</h3>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAiVjdiz82zquJE_g7vtF6Kfb3g2BdG51EdHXwuLn0mlAKvOl7EPze6VpiI3hpJPAc8u7eouysXZA5rFVNBApDCVWJt7dmohxX42iW3g-ymDak02l3GDcOcxG4ukRxFJZYnKjm7Ko3_0Bg/s1600/20130512_165431.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAiVjdiz82zquJE_g7vtF6Kfb3g2BdG51EdHXwuLn0mlAKvOl7EPze6VpiI3hpJPAc8u7eouysXZA5rFVNBApDCVWJt7dmohxX42iW3g-ymDak02l3GDcOcxG4ukRxFJZYnKjm7Ko3_0Bg/s320/20130512_165431.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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</xml><![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">A family affair. Mum, daughter and grandmother
making gozleme.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> </span> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhHWS6NPKLKXMI_Gtwc78NVRIUm8Rf3rFC6YhEB12L484h_yS8a0AUIpGGzliS1_302YIjJcelpz6UwLX9EwJTPmJt0fEI-juwctIXgZ3QWR_xMyMNywoz8372zqJqMqZQ4XJJKDFMd4g5/s1600/20130512_165508.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhHWS6NPKLKXMI_Gtwc78NVRIUm8Rf3rFC6YhEB12L484h_yS8a0AUIpGGzliS1_302YIjJcelpz6UwLX9EwJTPmJt0fEI-juwctIXgZ3QWR_xMyMNywoz8372zqJqMqZQ4XJJKDFMd4g5/s320/20130512_165508.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> </span> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPbQ_cXDHs0KiRrwjZGQ6PFup6rgOYQFmdYa9LzJIQAaUzmWH8guEjhV4gaZ8VdQf-Ez2BtcaYaoAzhhAJJELZO3UEbbssWU-yIzRQG1rchzKopkamCF2DM0LTHdUpoguczDDLgqXfm0d/s1600/20130512_171119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPbQ_cXDHs0KiRrwjZGQ6PFup6rgOYQFmdYa9LzJIQAaUzmWH8guEjhV4gaZ8VdQf-Ez2BtcaYaoAzhhAJJELZO3UEbbssWU-yIzRQG1rchzKopkamCF2DM0LTHdUpoguczDDLgqXfm0d/s320/20130512_171119.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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for the boat. This bottled fruit in syrup is a real treat.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
THE TEOS LIGHTNING STORM</h3>
<br />
We’ve been playing cat and mouse with the weather, trying to get as far
north as possible before the "Meltemi" - a strong summer wind that
blows relentlessly from the north. The Meltami can make a northward passage
almost impossible. <br />
We were pleased to find a local weather station at Kusadasi to give us a
more up to date and accurate forecast for the next stage of our journey.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7DZr6WQZUG3Chyphenhyphen5J5L7qbSG3XhDR6BYB8Pzj22R6Yf0gP9p0pB_pR7nCayMMNmt1OyX_ig8xI7wgaYwkH2wTwHcTslaanVS6xkMzwOeJFUDvpvQKzK516v4qqsmhjbC5oMy1D-0goDWR5/s1600/20130510_175632.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7DZr6WQZUG3Chyphenhyphen5J5L7qbSG3XhDR6BYB8Pzj22R6Yf0gP9p0pB_pR7nCayMMNmt1OyX_ig8xI7wgaYwkH2wTwHcTslaanVS6xkMzwOeJFUDvpvQKzK516v4qqsmhjbC5oMy1D-0goDWR5/s320/20130510_175632.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We were both pretty tired from the sail up to Teos and after the food fair
and a brief tour around the town we turned in about 9:30 PM. We both fell
sound asleep in no time.<br />
At 3:30 AM, there was a flash and a very loud explosion just outside the
boat. We thought a bomb had gone off in the marina.<br />
<br />
We looked outside and there
was nothing. No wind. No rain. Just dead still. Then there was another flash
and this time it was obvious. A blinding bolt of lightning struck the higher
ground just outside the Marina. Then another. Each one was followed by a
deafening boom!<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">We have never experienced an electrical storm quite
like it. It just came out of nowhere. Lightning physically hitting objects and
the ground all around the marina. Sparks flying in the air. Then came the hail.
It was so violent we thought it was going to shatter the hatches. There was
such a roar inside the boat we could hardly hear each other speak. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">All the time
more and more lightning with violent crashes of thunder. For a while the
flashes were so close and bright that Leighton had to put on sunglasses to be
able to keep a lookout outside.</span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1VoDyXsj0Sr0vfoaT1Zb3RSV99DB6joNPcn0hIqFlS-bBi6H5Li8ITC5DASYLGdZKDa7E0MAqczwk837l5_l365sYBTYlypwIslG1DWVZ1Wwbce-XNq7ZIqAFj7M4P3PL-zqs7DLxyl2U/s1600/20130513_133951.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1VoDyXsj0Sr0vfoaT1Zb3RSV99DB6joNPcn0hIqFlS-bBi6H5Li8ITC5DASYLGdZKDa7E0MAqczwk837l5_l365sYBTYlypwIslG1DWVZ1Wwbce-XNq7ZIqAFj7M4P3PL-zqs7DLxyl2U/s320/20130513_133951.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The following morning the repair crews were out replacing
wires that had been vaporized in the early morning blitz. It was certainly an
uncomfortable feeling to be sitting under a forty-foot high metal mast, but
other masts were higher and it looked like a boat further down in the marina
may have been struck. We were safe and lucky to be OK. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is a good thing that sailors have short memories.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
THE EXPEDITION TO FIND ANCIENT TEOS</h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Despite having had very little sleep during the lightning storm,
the next morning after breakfast we set off on a hike to try and locate the
ancient town of Teos.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">On the paved road out of town Cathy noticed lots of
little hopping things and soon we could see hundreds of little frogs that must
have hatched out in the night. We managed to not step on any of them and soon
found we were on a gravel track that led us further out of town. </span><br />
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We managed to get past a large unchained dog that occupied
the middle of the road and after about 2 KM we saw some signs that directed us
to various parts of the site.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsHZYkFjpw7gWqkbFRECXO04hyphenhyphen1bgVWZUgyso_NEtPGP04PFLRSxjnBOmcvhY73zZSD0elJY5Od1jmNi9IweZzZrlLHL_MjawRViJNzPPO44Mus69rQxhAk_0XXANsttScGVUtSvxOhkGG/s1600/20130513_140432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsHZYkFjpw7gWqkbFRECXO04hyphenhyphen1bgVWZUgyso_NEtPGP04PFLRSxjnBOmcvhY73zZSD0elJY5Od1jmNi9IweZzZrlLHL_MjawRViJNzPPO44Mus69rQxhAk_0XXANsttScGVUtSvxOhkGG/s320/20130513_140432.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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There was a line of ancient olive trees that judging from
the size of their trunks were clearly planted here several hundred, perhaps
even a thousand years ago. This tree has seen a lot of history and is still
going strong. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDNOchlv-F0LDNgYOCo2dZlBnhG2veWEhjFVazUmX1kOh0I6IpLs0JBdQdffHjwbWru8bS_j4XEdgdnJQYdpAmZxXFJo3jluIvos-pEMnx5G7i1m6_bMouwl44MWsbsbz2SO0DBfPcIcP/s1600/20130513_141545.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDNOchlv-F0LDNgYOCo2dZlBnhG2veWEhjFVazUmX1kOh0I6IpLs0JBdQdffHjwbWru8bS_j4XEdgdnJQYdpAmZxXFJo3jluIvos-pEMnx5G7i1m6_bMouwl44MWsbsbz2SO0DBfPcIcP/s320/20130513_141545.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Unlike Ephesus, there was physically very little to see of
the site in the way of ruins as they were still buried waiting to be excavated. </div>
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However, Cathy spotted an unusual stone that we thought might have been an
early “Spec-Savers” store, but more likely an altar stone where animals were
sacrificed and the channels around the circles were to drain away the
blood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As it was once in the temple of
Dionysus here it could also have been used for pouring libations of wine. </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">We are expecting more southerly winds so
tomorrow we will be sailing further north. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Next stop…?</span></div>
Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-31782248292311859302013-05-07T13:05:00.004+01:002020-01-03T16:25:21.371+00:00Visit to Knidos<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzXmLkRlB25QZ1K3u2ve6flWWQNij469sxxZNG94Q25dgnTHPzGrP3AgoThSQRekIt8SY_ZjmygF_Pb0NzEkiShyphenhyphen2hDoacm2bKYf4ZazhvNTiM3YxNPkwnw97UBt7BtT9RfT_Ihboz6BF/s1600/20130429_152202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>The best way to visit ancient Knidos is by boat. We’ve come here from Datcha where we only stayed long enough to pick up supplies. Because of works on the south side of the town’s harbour, it was like being anchored in a building site. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_dFBaxLAZpGIvCM-2MC7JJRui9fJh9SLLiyVuBXn6w7U8K1ZLycBGbZH7kcx3hZBcimWDzhQz9j_5xnL-a068Oj5-f2migZHX0bTmly5HxdQxJSp0kb2mITOTl2UReU9rR7igyXdH3la1/s1600/20130429_162909.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_dFBaxLAZpGIvCM-2MC7JJRui9fJh9SLLiyVuBXn6w7U8K1ZLycBGbZH7kcx3hZBcimWDzhQz9j_5xnL-a068Oj5-f2migZHX0bTmly5HxdQxJSp0kb2mITOTl2UReU9rR7igyXdH3la1/s320/20130429_162909.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
We spend two days moored on the pontoon in Knidos so we could explore the impressive ruins. Our berth gave us a grandstand view of the old theatre. The city was established in the 6th century BC on terraces that slope down to a promontory dominated by the imposing Cape Krio. The two parts of the ancient site are linked by a low isthmus which also serves to divide its two harbours.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9khh_BrjLiGB95R0BqlV_-6n6czZSEU1rhQ_NaJPYdAiT4eG6EmyQj-Er8TvvKHNPBqRWIn_-Dh4lOFQ3Xa3gmwBEw1fWlgvQ0s-6crABQkrbMcD7OhqL5TZw63krL5NqfTEsPgyNaGKd/s1600/20130429_154748.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9khh_BrjLiGB95R0BqlV_-6n6czZSEU1rhQ_NaJPYdAiT4eG6EmyQj-Er8TvvKHNPBqRWIn_-Dh4lOFQ3Xa3gmwBEw1fWlgvQ0s-6crABQkrbMcD7OhqL5TZw63krL5NqfTEsPgyNaGKd/s320/20130429_154748.jpg" width="320" /></a> <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP75I80NOhpjx1QdnKRcIfLKgyGDPYgWY_2qPkQtXXBchIcOS5CfENUozWALXbHXoaMrOR3ahypnZl_ngBojtRbrVmfPFapOKT19GARKCqEprFVnYocEv7_d7skH1GmOfNhFfTK2eV-aBn/s1600/20130429_153646.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP75I80NOhpjx1QdnKRcIfLKgyGDPYgWY_2qPkQtXXBchIcOS5CfENUozWALXbHXoaMrOR3ahypnZl_ngBojtRbrVmfPFapOKT19GARKCqEprFVnYocEv7_d7skH1GmOfNhFfTK2eV-aBn/s320/20130429_153646.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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The smaller trireme harbour faces west and is still used by local fishing boats. The other larger harbour faces east and its ancient breakwaters, some parts of which are now underwater, still protect the entrance. Indeed on our way in we strayed rather too close for comfort to the end of the left hand sea wall. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzXmLkRlB25QZ1K3u2ve6flWWQNij469sxxZNG94Q25dgnTHPzGrP3AgoThSQRekIt8SY_ZjmygF_Pb0NzEkiShyphenhyphen2hDoacm2bKYf4ZazhvNTiM3YxNPkwnw97UBt7BtT9RfT_Ihboz6BF/s1600/20130429_152202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzXmLkRlB25QZ1K3u2ve6flWWQNij469sxxZNG94Q25dgnTHPzGrP3AgoThSQRekIt8SY_ZjmygF_Pb0NzEkiShyphenhyphen2hDoacm2bKYf4ZazhvNTiM3YxNPkwnw97UBt7BtT9RfT_Ihboz6BF/s320/20130429_152202.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
The city grew rich through maritime trading, playing a major role in the region for many centuries. By 4th century BC, the Knidians had built an ostentatious treasury for themselves at Delphi. The city was renowned for two things - its statue of Aphrodite - now missing - and the astronomer Eudoxus. The city’s statue of Aphrodite was the first ever marble sculpture of a naked woman. Created by Praxiteles, it was dedicated to seafarers and drew in admirers in their droves. Eudoxus was a Greek mathematician and astronomer who built an observatory at Knidos to map the stars. Was this his sundial, we wonder?<br />
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Now the city is populated by large lizards and yellow speckled dragonflies. Poppies and wild barley grow up between the stones and the sound of larks drifts in the wind.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidB3bVD54UAOz8b0-HPS_Vtr41MR01HHf-ivK3cjjTd6gp06eKDcW4txjcbK6FGlagzVceevK3ye9xkvXXKHcb3P11Z3URxUgQVY6BFFr_kmQshXWnFV-zMFBK818BdkEJNth5rmjahUXg/s1600/20130430_084719.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidB3bVD54UAOz8b0-HPS_Vtr41MR01HHf-ivK3cjjTd6gp06eKDcW4txjcbK6FGlagzVceevK3ye9xkvXXKHcb3P11Z3URxUgQVY6BFFr_kmQshXWnFV-zMFBK818BdkEJNth5rmjahUXg/s320/20130430_084719.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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We wander around the ruins foraging for old shards, trying to imagine how it used to be. On our second morning we walked up to the lighthouse that now stands on Cape Krio through swathes of wild flowers. From there we had a stunning view of the Greek islands of Nisyros, Symi and Kos. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkD3QPYEog49Jj2i5CUaY5sIxxPqjD7GzNxlxwvhx9OIDG_qgoSZs_oTnSmIeIxHz3W7ptWnZJSHft3EPVH7raIUwzSs5581MHfk1UwFVdwbSiRbFzGHymq3yNQVgm0aLmc1qxZdJltSNc/s1600/20130430_085500.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkD3QPYEog49Jj2i5CUaY5sIxxPqjD7GzNxlxwvhx9OIDG_qgoSZs_oTnSmIeIxHz3W7ptWnZJSHft3EPVH7raIUwzSs5581MHfk1UwFVdwbSiRbFzGHymq3yNQVgm0aLmc1qxZdJltSNc/s320/20130430_085500.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicHA19a2UxxHDF0bEwxGRphNXYHpB-RePS_o1WgDSORgAb-B65hRvL4ZLNjoQ4WuanYDFm7L-vObmKKxQEgb2CQc-iobUA0U9VusfN-VE774RXHoLVJBI1D8H4AXO5DtO-DiNd6kKuJ8TQ/s1600/20130430_095311.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicHA19a2UxxHDF0bEwxGRphNXYHpB-RePS_o1WgDSORgAb-B65hRvL4ZLNjoQ4WuanYDFm7L-vObmKKxQEgb2CQc-iobUA0U9VusfN-VE774RXHoLVJBI1D8H4AXO5DtO-DiNd6kKuJ8TQ/s320/20130430_095311.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
During our stay Leighton used his underwater video camera for the first time to take shots of some fish under the pier. Later he managed to scrub off much of the weed on the hull. That should make us go a little faster. Only one thing marred an otherwise wonderful visit. A live band playing at the waterside restaurant stopped us from sleeping our last evening until at 1am Cathy politely went over and asked them when they intended to pack it in. </div>
Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-69185437282488510332013-05-05T13:12:00.000+01:002020-01-03T16:25:22.599+00:00Slip the lines and away we go<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlayqv6VnNb-HkziZxKkTCs4BLoJGaFsJxnLCG_ZcgUT0PM4pIguqC_KdfeSc317rNxgm7wqctrg4FsMvjTp_W694Mdt8MGdCLXKDhGy9I4pviZaJue5KXFmX1jR8JUZQlnOVcr8-5WigH/s1600/20130427_061531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>It’s the same every year. There’s a last minute rush to get everything done. Finish the boat maintenance jobs; shelve everything we haven’t got around to; rig the sails; stock up on food; top up the water tanks and squeeze the last drop out of the bank account to refuel. And then there are the goodbyes to friends and the meals with cruisers we never got around to inviting aboard over the winter. <br />
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This year, we had two more reasons to put off our departure. An invitation to a Turkish wedding in Kas and a farewell party at the marina. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfolRy20mKUtzOrgbE46PYEGl8efeFGeHOkBahrW49U0uo5l6Mf4iHEHK_OBB_oRBGAbOimefERCbIM3T6vi9X9PRwZ2kDctS3MP0kEg_LCMdgHHHFzUFw5LHZJgi-YMONASZbvU1566uQ/s1600/210420135238.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfolRy20mKUtzOrgbE46PYEGl8efeFGeHOkBahrW49U0uo5l6Mf4iHEHK_OBB_oRBGAbOimefERCbIM3T6vi9X9PRwZ2kDctS3MP0kEg_LCMdgHHHFzUFw5LHZJgi-YMONASZbvU1566uQ/s320/210420135238.jpg" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Newlyweds Samet and Hurriye take to the floor</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cathy reaches out to pin money on the bride</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTBe-4DQk6Yro3-VIjsVWW2Uo3lWz104i0zf_jQWJxXHbW2B-2SsEAzT7IVktxOa_-EBbknCKrvizdQ-9zVgU0zNZcorHnbI5VQiEHqGFjRClV1p-A128TRlegU9NDmRlpmu6KEr51dPX/s1600/20130422_204157.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTBe-4DQk6Yro3-VIjsVWW2Uo3lWz104i0zf_jQWJxXHbW2B-2SsEAzT7IVktxOa_-EBbknCKrvizdQ-9zVgU0zNZcorHnbI5VQiEHqGFjRClV1p-A128TRlegU9NDmRlpmu6KEr51dPX/s320/20130422_204157.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Toasting the beginning of the seaon with fellow cruisers</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-C1tLsJTMa3kloxEntU_CYSedxWGPCfI57jRaKh4-6SCciK7b1HKUXXBdfWmUfeyvDVKoiei-2c8QaOAfE-8Q-JdTHYkufm4bpmDoAROQxLzw9ZZUXBkfa1Yl0DDYY_GiiLGVvpdfcA0/s1600/20130422_223335.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-C1tLsJTMa3kloxEntU_CYSedxWGPCfI57jRaKh4-6SCciK7b1HKUXXBdfWmUfeyvDVKoiei-2c8QaOAfE-8Q-JdTHYkufm4bpmDoAROQxLzw9ZZUXBkfa1Yl0DDYY_GiiLGVvpdfcA0/s320/20130422_223335.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting up close with the belly dancers</td></tr>
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Finally we slip the lines on 24th April and head out. Going northwards to the top of the Aegean we’ll have the
wind mostly on the nose. The best we can hope for is for the wind to be
light so we can make headway against it. We make the most of a
favourable forecast by making early starts and doing two long hops of fifty miles each under
engine from Kastellorizo to Lorymer. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGit_HDivZzpxlACpv3UpWr5JgA0w_5vhOwywnwPY5IO_xIKD-kXcapoFWLosUTXs7UyYZeqioGltERcEgJtVmlWn4h5NJ8uAZwvHWcKnkiKruQSPL99xbbu_75gH_yc8CJXKtzun0Fyf/s1600/20130424_080512.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGit_HDivZzpxlACpv3UpWr5JgA0w_5vhOwywnwPY5IO_xIKD-kXcapoFWLosUTXs7UyYZeqioGltERcEgJtVmlWn4h5NJ8uAZwvHWcKnkiKruQSPL99xbbu_75gH_yc8CJXKtzun0Fyf/s320/20130424_080512.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The diesel berth alsation doesn't like to let go the lines either!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIaILu7UjBTNJUUjU3Xd0KZI6GKcVCrBTrpXARqJJ8JIX0CVE4nxw_kmBmoGP0LkCBP9fnlNB5cKxrf0m72fcs5oPejxmP2Wdcj8jQ-lhSsX0czDGYfAGEsAnjVyu_Dn4IKRHfrqno7E1d/s1600/20130426_151024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIaILu7UjBTNJUUjU3Xd0KZI6GKcVCrBTrpXARqJJ8JIX0CVE4nxw_kmBmoGP0LkCBP9fnlNB5cKxrf0m72fcs5oPejxmP2Wdcj8jQ-lhSsX0czDGYfAGEsAnjVyu_Dn4IKRHfrqno7E1d/s320/20130426_151024.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look what he did to our mooring line!</td></tr>
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Two exciting wildlife moments: we spotted a couple of sea turtles mating. Then the highlight of the trip was seeing a small pod of pilot whales. It is the first time we’ve seen whales in either the Atlantic or the Med. We slowed down to watch them blowing as they rolled lazily along. One breached and rolled and another raised its tail out of the water in classic style as it dived. Wonderful stuff.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia6TAtqsdfy8l22muiyOshccL0h5Fkbnnn5mOXJsaEcExKtsm25rTd2iJ_JxF3rXckpamR6nL7QYTrQuWPQEAzfJ5FBCbcnvgzXMluGwAaz-nZ_DhSv9OcVTkYpA2sRTzx92roLuaoQejM/s1600/20130426_140236.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia6TAtqsdfy8l22muiyOshccL0h5Fkbnnn5mOXJsaEcExKtsm25rTd2iJ_JxF3rXckpamR6nL7QYTrQuWPQEAzfJ5FBCbcnvgzXMluGwAaz-nZ_DhSv9OcVTkYpA2sRTzx92roLuaoQejM/s320/20130426_140236.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On whale watch</td></tr>
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We’re travelling in company with Jim and Jane on their catamaran Orchid.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDAhZyJN0PdSyaohw35et-t6YcaCVEfexHHCngGO_YM18JbUKPgOU4S9_XTObXu9ZTkCIKvo5pagF5wvLGg9_fjLCocMjECr5iCXxVA1rl78r8fH95DquBx67jfoSIEa08RYdr81i90Q3k/s1600/20130425_121934.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDAhZyJN0PdSyaohw35et-t6YcaCVEfexHHCngGO_YM18JbUKPgOU4S9_XTObXu9ZTkCIKvo5pagF5wvLGg9_fjLCocMjECr5iCXxVA1rl78r8fH95DquBx67jfoSIEa08RYdr81i90Q3k/s320/20130425_121934.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jim checking his anchor in Kasto</td></tr>
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Jim is basically single handed as Jane’s severe arthritis means she can’t help much around the boat. We think they’re very brave to be out on the water at all. When Orchid starts having engine trouble, they decide to divert to Bozburun and we say our farewells. We want to get north before the meltemi starts. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTBe-4DQk6Yro3-VIjsVWW2Uo3lWz104i0zf_jQWJxXHbW2B-2SsEAzT7IVktxOa_-EBbknCKrvizdQ-9zVgU0zNZcorHnbI5VQiEHqGFjRClV1p-A128TRlegU9NDmRlpmu6KEr51dPX/s1600/20130422_204157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlayqv6VnNb-HkziZxKkTCs4BLoJGaFsJxnLCG_ZcgUT0PM4pIguqC_KdfeSc317rNxgm7wqctrg4FsMvjTp_W694Mdt8MGdCLXKDhGy9I4pviZaJue5KXFmX1jR8JUZQlnOVcr8-5WigH/s1600/20130427_061531.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlayqv6VnNb-HkziZxKkTCs4BLoJGaFsJxnLCG_ZcgUT0PM4pIguqC_KdfeSc317rNxgm7wqctrg4FsMvjTp_W694Mdt8MGdCLXKDhGy9I4pviZaJue5KXFmX1jR8JUZQlnOVcr8-5WigH/s320/20130427_061531.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise over Fethiye bay</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summer is here - crossing the 4m bar in the Nemou channel</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGit_HDivZzpxlACpv3UpWr5JgA0w_5vhOwywnwPY5IO_xIKD-kXcapoFWLosUTXs7UyYZeqioGltERcEgJtVmlWn4h5NJ8uAZwvHWcKnkiKruQSPL99xbbu_75gH_yc8CJXKtzun0Fyf/s1600/20130424_080512.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-54616705052743283192013-04-17T16:14:00.001+01:002020-01-03T16:25:21.953+00:00Winter in Finike<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRgWSQtMDdzQxVBnr0U_pzspjeVyFCQ6UdSIs2hZIKqiuvmYsI3hrudr4O4LBrNObXFIw9nqFkgUL20ZurRSDdRoAFs-p4uGdATub-RGc39couu5oPWmjW3c6iMPSOHYbSxUYlO4OqRNya/s1600/20130324_135356+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL3x1PMPbFaEL5cZQ928SG4Eb8KvADtIK_HHJcScmrEr7Qp5Fu2EO4BCeSftwqDwrP926CIHoe2ZssVtYnhpZuX9FJibxWC2HPMWXtXZqqWhw9jih4yly9zhn1o8-qbRd31kZ4RaLifLe_/s1600/20130104_152330.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL3x1PMPbFaEL5cZQ928SG4Eb8KvADtIK_HHJcScmrEr7Qp5Fu2EO4BCeSftwqDwrP926CIHoe2ZssVtYnhpZuX9FJibxWC2HPMWXtXZqqWhw9jih4yly9zhn1o8-qbRd31kZ4RaLifLe_/s320/20130104_152330.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
While we were back in Devon during November and December, we had more or less constant rain and leaden skies. So despite the cold temperatures it was a relief to get back here to the marina in Finike at the start of the New Year. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL3x1PMPbFaEL5cZQ928SG4Eb8KvADtIK_HHJcScmrEr7Qp5Fu2EO4BCeSftwqDwrP926CIHoe2ZssVtYnhpZuX9FJibxWC2HPMWXtXZqqWhw9jih4yly9zhn1o8-qbRd31kZ4RaLifLe_/s1600/20130104_152330.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGFFhoOPt7XtZ28IzVWfjD7CsnrpmulmBn8BAd1YRAL4sZq38kEuvJYrutVRyU6-jidNN7o14w3vNUe-IhiXNbIAFdIQU1gTpntRGV6LoUpnCIAz_xzx6IAKYNdJVgQJch9-u3vzVA1P4C/s1600/2774019101_696c1dba69.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGFFhoOPt7XtZ28IzVWfjD7CsnrpmulmBn8BAd1YRAL4sZq38kEuvJYrutVRyU6-jidNN7o14w3vNUe-IhiXNbIAFdIQU1gTpntRGV6LoUpnCIAz_xzx6IAKYNdJVgQJch9-u3vzVA1P4C/s320/2774019101_696c1dba69.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Copious fruit n veg at the Saturday market</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRgWSQtMDdzQxVBnr0U_pzspjeVyFCQ6UdSIs2hZIKqiuvmYsI3hrudr4O4LBrNObXFIw9nqFkgUL20ZurRSDdRoAFs-p4uGdATub-RGc39couu5oPWmjW3c6iMPSOHYbSxUYlO4OqRNya/s1600/20130324_135356+-+Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRgWSQtMDdzQxVBnr0U_pzspjeVyFCQ6UdSIs2hZIKqiuvmYsI3hrudr4O4LBrNObXFIw9nqFkgUL20ZurRSDdRoAFs-p4uGdATub-RGc39couu5oPWmjW3c6iMPSOHYbSxUYlO4OqRNya/s320/20130324_135356+-+Copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fellow cruisers at the regular Sunday BBQ</td></tr>
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<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6nVtDpwqx6g6ntDC6TA0Jo0ew_KHlXiBM_o041P5lowQekDodnN4cGE2FZF2v8QOM-h98_eHJhbSZahK3mtEIAr8cVWs-QIS2V0bbHNj5dSZXHRA8fgPH1InEYvdPfevGwMLI9OhnQnl/s1600/20130328_182356.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6nVtDpwqx6g6ntDC6TA0Jo0ew_KHlXiBM_o041P5lowQekDodnN4cGE2FZF2v8QOM-h98_eHJhbSZahK3mtEIAr8cVWs-QIS2V0bbHNj5dSZXHRA8fgPH1InEYvdPfevGwMLI9OhnQnl/s320/20130328_182356.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
Our neighbours over the winter are Swedish couple Ann Kristin and Jan-Oke on S/Y Doris. <br /><br />In January we decided it was about time we made a proper visit to Antalya instead of just passing through on our way to and from the airport.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidGo5Fow8qDVbtlrHtkWiXB2JG8D02fqYmOwUBoVAJ6aNsAXs8_SjnlaH-5-7DMU9wnd1vyR52VPCHE4xiu_mCITw5hjHRPfN9PzqI39UrtIJ9Ic_pWsfUa6OJ_cI7QMI013nbRRecmeEQ/s1600/20130118_094946.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidGo5Fow8qDVbtlrHtkWiXB2JG8D02fqYmOwUBoVAJ6aNsAXs8_SjnlaH-5-7DMU9wnd1vyR52VPCHE4xiu_mCITw5hjHRPfN9PzqI39UrtIJ9Ic_pWsfUa6OJ_cI7QMI013nbRRecmeEQ/s320/20130118_094946.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ataturk overlooks the sea</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9AtlYhUP86xO5QkrEX2PBninItrN3nqrHVUIOUYaiqv6RHpJVWwm3EWP2QL226CTbJkPlNyi7oc7EX3iSVvCyIa8B-yZu-DQWGwQxOfvgH6R5cO4J_oEUT_9GSuoF8mD2zoISHCD3mrKR/s1600/20130117_095202.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9AtlYhUP86xO5QkrEX2PBninItrN3nqrHVUIOUYaiqv6RHpJVWwm3EWP2QL226CTbJkPlNyi7oc7EX3iSVvCyIa8B-yZu-DQWGwQxOfvgH6R5cO4J_oEUT_9GSuoF8mD2zoISHCD3mrKR/s320/20130117_095202.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hadrian's Gate in Antalya</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leighton asks for directions</td></tr>
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We stayed three nights in the old town of Kaleici and took in a Turkish bath, plenty of good food, visits to the aquarium and the archeological museum, and watched the film of Anna Karenina at the Migros multiplex cinema. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leighton gets to know a dogfish at the aquarium</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">tripperboats at Kaleici old harbour</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-HCM-72s4yoncLtmadFaItgd7UfUPcPggO6gPVO1MA4WeAvNi-doJn7FkWNvZtilkp7AsUXF7hr8vD4zok_j8eogYflO_PVK4z6PpXWyCOEpf7e4q735jZjBrXlS4x85_5XKGDmojaDuA/s1600/20130116_101101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-HCM-72s4yoncLtmadFaItgd7UfUPcPggO6gPVO1MA4WeAvNi-doJn7FkWNvZtilkp7AsUXF7hr8vD4zok_j8eogYflO_PVK4z6PpXWyCOEpf7e4q735jZjBrXlS4x85_5XKGDmojaDuA/s320/20130116_101101.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leighton with Sezai at the waterfalls</td></tr>
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While we were there we got to know police officer Sezai who on his day off drove us out to Termessos and the Kursunlu waterfalls. He was excellent company and a very knowledgeable guide. When Alexander the Great caught sight of the mountain-top fortress at Termessos, he wisely decided to march his army past without attacking it. The site, still largely unexcavated, is spectacularly situated on the edge of a gorge. It was bitterly cold when we reached the ancient Greek theatre up there and watched the mist roll into the valley below, obscuring the view down to the sea.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking up at Termessos city walls</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj10OGyqUHjAz6E5TMEDb0yEHn4IW3qA_OaIKVJQ4kNpUdpamxfUT8nm7pyqRLHtWH4b8N8Ihs4ILQ9kcuVRLsOmk1ruSZASSw1XHv8x1ohQvm8LLLCbDliMf2H2scWHKt8GocteIn8zzQo/s1600/20130116_144103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj10OGyqUHjAz6E5TMEDb0yEHn4IW3qA_OaIKVJQ4kNpUdpamxfUT8nm7pyqRLHtWH4b8N8Ihs4ILQ9kcuVRLsOmk1ruSZASSw1XHv8x1ohQvm8LLLCbDliMf2H2scWHKt8GocteIn8zzQo/s320/20130116_144103.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the tomb of King Alcetas </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Propping up the temple walls</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hercules at archeological museum - top and bottom reunited</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Student does a drawing lesson</td></tr>
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In February, Leighton badly sprained his ankle out walking when a boulder rolled under his foot while scrambling down into a gulley. Luckily no bones were broken, but the soft tissue damage has taken a frustratingly long time to heal. A boat isn’t a good place to be when you’ve only got one good leg, but two months later he’s at last back on both feet and has just climbed up the mast to service the wind instruments. <br /><br />With Leighton immobile, Cathy has taken out a group of hardy walkers of different nationalities every Friday to explore some of the local countryside.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMnMHlRHP1fKPqCq-bbI3a34CUqdM64Ex_4A5hF4xeYiqN6uKpENMgMs4bTCDvJD9fpsTL2vHQ5MbqyIZEmeYGlGASpQdIBBBd2wtbNgni7C0yI6_5EFvJ3Tkh9BsgwybnQUfqQC3Wun78/s1600/010320135192.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMnMHlRHP1fKPqCq-bbI3a34CUqdM64Ex_4A5hF4xeYiqN6uKpENMgMs4bTCDvJD9fpsTL2vHQ5MbqyIZEmeYGlGASpQdIBBBd2wtbNgni7C0yI6_5EFvJ3Tkh9BsgwybnQUfqQC3Wun78/s320/010320135192.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picnic at Rhodiopolis</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking over Alakir lake</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About to head along the Lycian Way</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3yVixHuZGfpdUg5gO8T_IVRtnRBS6vRIYTOnq52qz-Gw9yQ_HJcMC9mG1h3eqAdPy7UatZ11Mey67YSlddgvoyk_NjDgFI_52vvULGA4mhbGbeexadMWBjhg9q8xW9M7G__fi_sVYYYha/s1600/IMG_0504+just.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3yVixHuZGfpdUg5gO8T_IVRtnRBS6vRIYTOnq52qz-Gw9yQ_HJcMC9mG1h3eqAdPy7UatZ11Mey67YSlddgvoyk_NjDgFI_52vvULGA4mhbGbeexadMWBjhg9q8xW9M7G__fi_sVYYYha/s320/IMG_0504+just.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picking our way down a path</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRciWS3L-mWI3v9bCcUCd1bEtVS6-E1Xkq-jXHj8RW69iSFpNVgB3hdmqYua4f2vU-dt6G3zXtfTrHFwbmo3u-jxmrz69EEe0ilKycLKsuf6DyZtAi8mrKr1JQ5VNz558efqi29o4uVIUn/s1600/Just+two.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRciWS3L-mWI3v9bCcUCd1bEtVS6-E1Xkq-jXHj8RW69iSFpNVgB3hdmqYua4f2vU-dt6G3zXtfTrHFwbmo3u-jxmrz69EEe0ilKycLKsuf6DyZtAi8mrKr1JQ5VNz558efqi29o4uVIUn/s320/Just+two.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So where are going this year?</td></tr>
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Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768342775640442555.post-73840586267294240502012-12-14T14:05:00.001+00:002020-01-03T16:25:23.112+00:00Season's Greetings!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Here's wishing you a very merry Christmas with fair winds and calm seas in 2013, wherever you go. This year we're spending Christmas with the family in Devon and fly back to Turkey on 30th December in time to see the New Year in at Finike marina. It'll be good to get a break from the floods in UK. <br />
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Leighton and Cathy Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06836522397564376614noreply@blogger.com0