Beyshir to Antalya

  
Murat has planned a very special treat for us this morning; a visit to a lovely timber-built mosque and a meeting with the Imam. Outside we are greeted by a group of women who are eager to sell us some of their handcrafts. But the Imam is waiting for us, so the ladies make it their job to assist us with tying our headscarves properly before we enter the mosque. It is an art which I can't quite master.

Ishmael, the Imam, greets us and graciously tells us about the history of  lovely timber-built mosque, built in the 13th Century. The cedar pillars and panel have been beautifully preserved. The turquoise of the tiles is echoed in the carpet.

 
He also gives us some insights into the Muslim religion; its background and practices. We have heard much of this before, but with the Imam, it has a new solemnity and meaning. Then Ishmael patiently answers our (sometimes impertinent) questions. After a while he turns the questioning to us. He wants to know if any of us are atheist or agnostic and when some hands go up, he asks what has influenced this decision. he mulls the answer thoughtfully. It is an interesting, respectful and intelligent discussion - with Murat doing a wonderful job as interpreter. 
Our visit ends with the Imam singing a section of the daily prayers. When you hear it, as we usually do, broadcast over the tinny loudspeakers from the minarets, it sounds strident; but in the closeness of the mosque, this prayer has a new reverence for us.

Outside, the ladies are still patiently waiting beside their little piles of handicrafts. It seems rude to ignore them, so several of us buy knitted goods and even a few of their sparkly fabric roses.

Before boarding the bus, I visit the WC. Public washrooms in Turkey have come as a very pleasant surprise. They are uniformly pristine and well maintained. Mostly they are squat-style, flush toilets where you don't have to jump hastily to avoid getting wet feet. There are always a few "thrones" for those whose knees aren't up to the other position. I opt for a squatter and sadly, it is here that my newly gifted ring (from Omar in Istanbul) falls out of my back pocket and with one clunk on the shiny white tiled floor it bounces into the hole. Back on the bus, I explain what happened. My story is received with appropriate hilarity and I am forgiven for holding up the group while I was  contemplating my options - there were none, the ring is gone forever!

The road to the popular seaside town of Antalya takes us up into the Taurus Mountain Range, along steep and winding roads with wondrous views of rugged rock formations.

We arrive in the bustling, city of Antalya just in time for lunch which we enjoy at one of the many restaurants lining a street with a colourful canopy of umbrellas. 

The Hotel Dolan is just up the hill from the Old City on a cobbled street, which is too narrow for our bus. So the luggage has been unloaded and is waiting for us in the hotel lobby. Such service! It is one of those slightly rambling hotels, with lots of stairs and levels. Our room looks onto a courtyard with a small swimming pool. Murat would like us to visit the famous Antalya Museum and carefully explains how we can easily get to it by tram. I am conflicted because of my interest in ancient civilizations, but the town is intriguing too. So after we have checked into the hotel, most of us opt for spending the rest of the day ambling, aimlessly and happily through the town; exploring mosques, markets and shops and down along the waterfront. 

 

Although we have split up into a few groups, the old city is small and we keep bumping into our fellow tour members. A few of us find ourselves together down at the harbour, which is filled with  tourist excursion boats. 

 Together we find a nice shady spot at an outdoor cafe and enjoy a few drinks while watching the sun slowly set over the mountains, casting a glorious golden glow over the bay. Can't ask for much better than this.