Faralya to Alınca

I planned to get an early start on Wednesday, but got involved in conversations and it was 8:30 before I managed to get moving. Hasan gave me a huge lump of bread and some cheese and a couple of tomatoes and a cucumber for lunch on the way out. From George House, you walk up to the intersection and turn right, downhill, to get back on the trail. When you reach the Lycian Way sign, it’s rather confusing. There’s one dirt road intersecting the main bitumen road from the left right next to the sign at a very acute angle, and another ten or fifteen metres further along and going virtually straight, as the road curves at the point. This second one is the one you want. I wasted some time checking out the first one, looking for the ‘G3’ trail to the left after 20 m described in the book. If you take the correct turnoff from the main road, of course, this is quite obvious. I had gained about 100m when I realised I’d left my pole behind at George House, so I hightailed it back there, said goodbye to everybody again, and started off again. By the time I was back on the trail, it was well past 9.

On the way back to George House, I ran into the three Englishmen I mentioned before. And on the road, photographing a tomb, was a vanload of other tourists, the ones I later caught up with who had the different guidebook. Anyway, I kept wandering off onto side trails, then retracing my steps, meeting up with that group again. At one point a lone woman came storming past. I caught up with her and asked if she minded if I joined her. I obviously needed help to follow the trail, and was real pleased to have some company for the walk. That was Joyce, a retired phys ed teacher of Glaswegian origin, although she now lives in some other part of Scotland.

We were taking the shortcut that bypasses Kabak Beach. The trail ascends to about 440m, then descends again to about 250m. The directions tell you to turn left before you reach Mama’s Restaurant, but of course ordinarily you wouldn’t know that until you had actually reached it. On this occasion, however, we ran into two Dutch couples who had just come from there and assured us that we were near it. From there, the trail ascends gradually until you come to a washout, where you have to ascend to the left for about thirty metres before the trail continues on the right. There were a couple of guys surveying there when we passed. I don’t know what that was about, but I think it’s safe to anticipate further changes to the trail in that area.

Joyce had been over this section before and missed the turnoff going up to Alınca. I don’t know if this is the point for a lesson in Turkish phonology, but rest assured that Alınca is not pronounced ‘alinka’. Anyway, she was understandably paranoid about repeating that error, especially as the timings in the book are wildly deceptive. As I recall, from the Mama’s turnoff to the spring was supposed to have taken 80 minutes, and took us about 30. From there to the Alınca turnoff was supposed to take 20 minutes and took us over an hour. And for good measure there are no blazes for at least 500m. The English blokes spent quite a while walking back and forth trying to find where they’d gone wrong and were sure they discerned a clear trail much higher up the cliff.

When we got to the dry creekbed described in the guide, however, I felt pretty confident we were on the right track and it was about then that the blazes reappeared. We never saw the cemetery mentioned in the book, although clearly David Carter found it last year, but when we finally arrived at the right turnoff, it was pretty clear we were there and Joyce was relieved. From there, I don’t recollect any further dramas as the trail ascends to Alınca at about 750m.

As you enter Alınca, there is a sign pointing to the Dervish Lodge on the left. A few metres further on, a guy accosted us, now five in number, and offered us tea, which we were all happy to accept. He also made us ayran, which is watered yoghurt, much like lassi. Then another two English guys arrived. We had passed them trying to make a fire for their lunch earlier in the day. We went on to Bayram’ın Yeri, Bayram’s place. He has three little bungalows with two matresses and a candle in each. He was asking YTL30 for bed, breakfast, and dinner. A couple of girls I met at George House told me that he had asked them for YTL25 and that they actually paid 20, as his wife wasn’t there and they had to cook their own dinner, and his. I went looking for a cheaper option, but it soon became apparent that there was none. I had heard that the Dervish Lodge was posh, so it never occurred to me to check. I think it was Dave who mentioned that the Millhouse people had recommended it, which also suggested it would be out of my league. By the time I got back, two Belgian sisters, Nicole and Marleen, had checked in and I got the last cabin. There are two squatter toilets in a separate structure and a shower room with a handheld showerhead. The water is too hot, but with a basin of cold water, we all managed to get clean.

Anyway, once we were settled in, Joyce and I wandered over to the Dervish Lodge to see how the Pommies were getting on. They were all lounging on sofas and beanbags on an open deck with a great view of Yediburun, drinking beer and rakı and munching on snacks. Two aging hippies run the place. It also has a few bungalows and some new ones seem to be under construction. The lounge room is full of drums and a tenor saxophone and I gather they like to jam. When the English dudes decided they would like to clean up, it turned out that the posh Dervish Lodge doesn’t have a shower at all. There is a kind of small hamam about the size of an ordinary shower cubicle. Actually, as there is no pool, I think it’s really more of a sauna. It took one of the guys quite a while to get the fire going and I’m not sure what they all did to clean up in there. Somebody said they were charging YTL40, so not that much more than anyone else.

I had mentioned to Bayram, who is the muhtar of Alınca, that I was a vegetarian, so I guess he thought that meant everybody was. Dinner was quite satisfactory. Not up to George House standard, but a lot better than I’d expected. They seemed surprised that we wanted tea after dinner and it took about half an hour to prepare. Bayram’s wife was not that thrilled when we asked for breakfast at 7:30, but she did comply.