Picnic in paradise

It is a public holiday today in Turkey so people are having fun. I printed a calendar while we were at home showing the Turkish Public holidays so we would know them, and ours says today is National Children’s Day; so it may be, and certainly children are the focus of most of today’s fun.

Though at our campsite last night, near Bodrum, our neighbours were settling in for the morrow making a coil for a still; most likely not for kids. As well, they had great vats of stuff brewing behind their tent, which they will need, as we think they told us they are retired and are settling in here for an extended period, until December. So a lot of hooch is needed. They were also a dab hand at rolling their own cigarettes; and none too shabby with mechanics, as they spent much of their early evening repairing an outboard motor with the help of some amazingly dodgy tools. Notwithstanding, they got the motor to work before bedtime.

Across country we drove the next morning, past parks filled with families and music, having fun; down to the Marmaris peninsula, again through mountains. The roads through these coastal ranges have many full turn switchbacks but have been beautifully built.

Turkey seems to have so much money to do so many things well, such as these roads. Actually, they are the sixth richest economy in Europe at the moment, so we should not be so surprised. They have survived the global financial crises moving forward, not backward as has happened with other countries here; and appear to be managing their money well. They also have more billionaires in Istanbul than in any city other than New York and Moscow, and sometimes they tie with London. And even their airline, we read, has been voted by Skytrax as the best in Europe every year for the last three years.

The views down into the abundant valleys are glorious. And, again, there are fruit trees and crops everywhere. Tons of oranges are ripe at the moment, being sold on covered market stalls set up on the side of the road. Too many really to sell to travellers. They surely must have other outlets for this produce: there is just so much that would go to waste, if not. Turkey is so fertile.

It produces an amazing variety of foodstuffs: pomegranates, hazelnuts, quinces, figs, pistachios, eggplants, green peppers, lentils, tea, tobacco, wheat, rye, lemons. You name it, they grow it. For many foodstuffs they are the world’s largest grower. In a time of crisis you would feel quite safe being in Turkey, as the climate is so beautiful, the soil so rich, and the country completely self sufficient in food production, and has been since the 1980s. It would be hard to go hungry here.

Admiring it all we drove down to the coastal town of Marmaris, but woe! here we saw bacon and eggs, and fish and chips advertised on many a street corner menu, so figured this for a British package holiday destination, so bolted to the glorious Datça peninsula, a much better choice for us. Though the first campsite we found was uninhabitable, despite an idyllic waterfront view with an even more idyllic restaurant selling Izhgara Balek (grilled fish), fresh from the sea, on the menu tonight.

Most campsites, as in Greece, only open for July and August: the summer. Many are still in the state they were left in last August when their managers simply tootled back to Istanbul fafter the season. I doubt they are the millionaires, though. The campsites look as though winter leaves and spiders have taken up permanent residence in many of the amenties blocks. Sometimes there is a caretaker left behind who keeps a small section clean. Other times not. As tonight at our first stop. We moved on, and found a glorious stretch of bay, still not ready, but, at least, there was a caretaker handy with a screw driver and he hard-wired us into some exposed wires handing in the air: the power; and set us up with a water view second to none.

Picnic tables down one end of the beach were occupied by families on holidays. Dads and sons were skipping stones on the surface of the water. Children were crab-fishing and swimming from the dock. One boy managed to stab a ray, which drew an admiring crowd of kids. Men were making tea the Turkish way, while the ladies rested, everyone relaxed and happy. Woodsmoke filled the air and with the high beautiful mountains on all sides we could have been camping Canada. The smell was fabulous. When the picnic area closed at eight, we were the sole occupants of this long length of million dollar waterfront. And we slept like babes.

oooOOOooo