Wednesday, 30 April 2014

Cesme, Eski Foca and Ayvalik

Pavlov has been steaming up the Turkish Coast, taking advantage of some last-of-winter southerly winds. Last blog, we were at Tekedagi, a favourite fjord near Taos. We did meet up with Marco and Petra. It was so iconic of the cruising life, to meet them again in the same fjord in the middle of nowhere, where we rendezvoused a year ago.


Fishing shack at the fjord


The reflections echo the serenity of this place


Fjord and Pavlov

We enjoyed seeing Marco and Petra so much that we made arrangements to visit them in November this year in Berlin. Reluctantly, we took the next southerly express train north, and headed to Cesme, a small boutique marina. We picked the marina as strong storms were predicted.


Traffic going north


Cesme harbour before the storm



Ottoman style houses in Cesme


The two women in my life


Guess who again?


On the prowl

We met an interesting instrument maker in Cesme. He made a kind of Turkish zither, or dulcimer. It was interesting to Western musicians, as each note could be divided into six micro tones, rather than just the sharp and flat of Western music. You can see the micro tuners on each string. It allowed very different scales and tonalities to be constructed. These were truly gorgeous instruments, each one a labour of love.


Turkish dulcimer maker


You can see the micro tuners just inboard of the tuning pegs.


He sold a variety of instruments


Cesme has its obligatory castle, cute cobbled streets and all the other accruements of Turkish tourist attractions. (I'm starting to sound jaded, time to change countries!)


View of the castle, Cesme


Castle at Cesme


A Pasha at Cesme

More castle


Cesme, a cute little town

Cesme courtyard


We ended up staying for 3 days. It was a little bit of luxury to stay in a marina, hot showers especially. There were lots of little Ottoman touches in Cesme, reminders of Turkish past glories.


Old metal Ottoman doorway


Pressed metal panels from the Ottoman era

But time and wind waits for no man, so we pointed Pavlov's bows north again, sailed around the large peninsula south of the Izmir korfezi, and entered Eski Foca (Old Foca). We couldn't get onto the town  jetty, and had some fun and games (including a dramatic recovery of our precious boat hook) trying to pick up a buoy, until we tried the fishing jetty.


Old Foca fishing jetty


Pavlov didn't mind slumming it


Megan on the fishing jetty


Swapping engines on the boat next to us


Old WW2 landing vessels being broken up


Lonesome Brommie

Sometimes, Megan and I just look around us, and wonder about the sort of places we end up! We rode the Brommies into town (the fishing jetty was a ways out of town), and explored this delightful and off-the-beaten-track place.


View over the fishing jetty


Lighthouse at the harbour entrance


Eske Foca harbour


Some stunning villa's on the water's edge


The promenade around the harbour 




Simit shop in Eski Foca

Fish market

Megan enjoying a simit and cay.

Eski Foca was a place isolated in time. Way off any tourist guide book, it had the charm of a Turkish sea side resort, without the kind of grockle flotsam and jetsam that accumulates around many tourist destinations.


Every passer-by is of interest in Foca


Local mosque


View of the harbour at Foca


Admiring the view


Wild flowers and ruins


The inner harbour at Eske Foca


Fishing boats in the inner harbour


Municipal square in Eske Foca

Time to up-stakes again and move on. It still surprises me, this bipolar existence we lead. When we're moored or anchored, the world is static. We can make trips, visit things, socialise and have a more-or-less normal life. And then, magically, we can drop a few lines, and the whole world changes. Life becomes more fraught, far less taken for granted. We travel, make miles, work the weather, sail the boat, get cold and wet or whatever, until once again, we transform into a secure home. What a life!


Admiral's favourite spot


Flying our new stitched flag, of which we are rightly proud!

Last Turkish destination was Ayverlik, but the only mooring option inside the 'lake' which surrounds Avyerlik was an expensive marina. We were over paying for expensive patches of water in which to stick our boat, so we cruised into Cunda on Adlibey Adasi, a small island connected by causeways to Ayverlik. Adlibey, an old Greek town, was one of the islands that create the lake shielding Ayverlik from the exposed bay.



Boat yard in Cunda

We managed to sneak into a small boat yard in Cunda. Despite a difficult unassisted moor through a forest of floating lines, we found a snug hide-away that cost us zip.


Dondurma (icecream) being sold on the promenade


Public water tap was much in demand

Cunda was also a delightful little town, taken over by the Turks to create a 'working persons' tourist resort. This was not a destination for foreigners, and we saw no foreign flagged boats. Cunda specialised in antiques and old curio's. The street stalls provided an interesting hunting ground for old porcelain, jewellery and other bric-a-brac.


Curio shoppers


Antiques on sale


Some rather nice old porcelain


Back street in Cunda


Charming hotel entrance


Carpet show-room, Cunda style

It was just a short dolmus trip to Ayverlik, where we had to attend to exit formalities. Of course, the Port Police and Customs were at opposite ends of the town to the Harbour Master. It was shank's pony across the town, and we spent another day walking around, taking care of business.


View from Ayverlik across to Cunda


Ayvalik harbour


Entrance to Ayvalik marina. We managed to avoid this place!

After check out, we felt a small pang of regret at finishing our sojourn in Turkey. It had been home for almost 2 years, and we'd  come to really enjoy its peoples and customs. In particular, the warm and close relating between the men will stay with me. Having been under-fathered and suffering from that westernised reserve that men erect as barriers around themselves, I found the closeness and intimacy between Turkish men thoroughly refreshing. We discovered that relating is the key in Turkey. Barriers and difficulties often dissolved when we took the time to establish real relationships. We also loved the simplicity and vibrancy of village life, with its simple rhythms and pleasures.

But the world await us, and we need to make some progress westwards. Next stop will be Greece. We will jump across to Lesbos and start our one year visa in Mitilini.

On the photography front, I've been exploring the theme of collections. Here's a few more of my efforts.

















See you in Greece. Yassas!




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