The New Era
The Lycian Way
MOUNTAINS
Foreword:
On the day of my departure, the sun was shining brightly, and I became filled with joyful impatience. It felt as if I’ve got wings on. I was packing my backpack very precisely, reviewing every little detail. I still didn’t fully understand where I was going and what I was looking for, but foreign land, foreign people, and new adventures irresistibly attracted me.
Like everything this year, the trip to Turkey along the Lycian Way was planned spontaneously, literally in a few days. Although internally, I quietly resigned myself to the fact that it would not be possible to travel until the end of this year, I still had hope.
Hiking in Turkey along the Lycian Way is one of those trips that fill you up with impressions to the very brim of your being. I want to create, sing, dance, love. For me, this trip opened up the door to a new era, where there is no place for fears and doubts, where the best decisions are made spontaneously and instinctively. Every day was marked by some amazing events. And we lived to the fullest as if it was not a day, but a whole life. Of course, on any trip, a good company is the main ingredient of it all, and our team has developed into a perfect puzzle, into a pattern in which one detail cannot complete the picture without the presence of another detail. We became a single organism, worked together, and complemented each other every step of the way.
Göynük Canyon. Pomegranate Paradise.
The Lycian Way is a long-distance trail in southwestern Turkey around part of the coast of the ancient civilization of Lycia that once existed in this area. Although the trekking route is considered to be fairly easy, it was difficult enough for our entire group. The trail is characterized by drastic elevation changes. It goes down to the sea, then ascends into the mountains, alternately winding along rocky slopes with breathtaking views, dirt roads, or pine forests. Since the most difficult sections are closer to the eastern part of the trail, many tourists start this trek from the west, thereby gradually increasing the physical exertion. We started our journey from a rather challenging section, Göynük Canyon, and moved west to Fethiye.
The first day on the trail was quite exhausting. We had to get used to the heavy backpacks that were digging into our shoulders. Plus, the guys set a very fast pace, and we had to work hard, in order to keep up. The picturesque trail to the canyon, along winding paths with enchanting landscape views, made us forget about fatigue and the weight of the burden on our shoulders. Still, our legs began to feel heavy from the kilometers traveled that day. With all the walking and transfers of the first day, we got behind our original schedule and were risking not to get to our first camping site before darkness. As the first signs of dawn stretched across the sky, we decided to spend the night at the nearest more or less flat edge of the forest.
A stationary for our tents is finally found and set up. A pot of water is slowly boiling on the fire, and buckwheat groats are gradually heating in it. Buckwheat has become an integral part of our trip. Especially in the first few days, when there were no villages along the way, this highly nutritious whole grain quickly appeased our brutal appetites and was devoured for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We even managed to experiment and periodically added either canned food or instant dry soup mix to it. On our first evening, a bottle of cognac was added to the menu list, and it went perfectly well with the buckwheat. We passed the bottle along the circle, formed around the fire, and after just a couple of sips, the magical combination had an instant mellow effect on me. My cheeks flushed, and I persistently began to giggle. The tension of the day disappeared somewhere in the stillness of the night, and the crackle of a burning fire.
Perhaps this was my first serious experience of sleeping in a camping tent for numerous nights in a pure wilderness. Before, I always lodged in specially designated campsites, where there were some basic amenities. This time we were staying out in the open, where the concept of a shower and a bathroom was nonexistent. There were three of us in the tent, closely packed together. Our warm bodies didn’t give a chance for a tent to cool down during the coldest nights. During my first night, I woke up every thirty minutes and listened to the outside noises, eventually switching my attention to the numb parts of my body. After the magical effect of cognac evaporated, I couldn't sleep at all. It seemed like the night would never end. But with the first rays of the sun, everyone started moving, whirling, and unzipping the tents. Without any hesitation, the entire group immediately started to pack the backpacks, put down the tents, and we were ready to start a new day.
We took our first break on massive stone boulders that day. A creek was running right through it, forming a small mirror-like lake. There, our team was supposed to spend the previous day, but with all the delays, we only got to that spot after lunch the next day. We had the opportunity to replenish drinking water supplies and take a swim. It was our first "shower" for almost two days on the trail. Suddenly it started to rain. It forced us to leave this fabulous rest spot early, and slowly crawl on slippery stones.
It was a long and steep climb, which finally led us to a wide road lined up with pomegranate trees. Ripe pomegranates begged us to pick them up. Also, they begged us to expose their large rubicund berries and instantaneously send them right into the mouth, squeezing all possible juices in the process. Near the village, on the roadside, locals were selling fresh pomegranate juice that they were making right in front of us. I drank a lot of it along the way. At some point, I could not even look at a pomegranate anymore. "Pomegranate Paradise" was everywhere you looked. Probably, all this time, it could have been realistic to live only on pomegranates!
Tahtalı Dağı – Mountain of the Gods.
The singing of muezzin (a Muslim crier who calls the hour of daily prayers) was echoing on the slope of the mountain, covered with pine trees. He was calling all believers to namāz (Islamic worship or prayer). I was walking at my own slow pace, slightly behind the group, and peered into the distance, trying to understand where the sounds were coming from. There was an element of magic present at that moment. Not a single soul, while I was walking. And so quiet, I could hear my heavy breathing and a powerful yet pleasant male voice, broadcasting his message to the entire mountain plateau.
When you stay in the vastness of nature for a long time, you begin to perceive what is happening around more consciously. Any sounds and smells in the forest become more distinct and overwhelmingly rich. After sunset, the most characteristic sound for this area is the slight whistling and hooting of a forest’s Gray Owl. It seems to be arranging a rollcall with its teammates in the silence of the night, rhythmically repeating the same acoustic repertoire time after time. In response to that, you can hear the same long howling "Uh, Uh, Uuuh" heard somewhere from a distance. You lie in a tent, wrapped up in a sleeping bag, as if in a cocoon, and trace the owl's lullaby until your eyelids are heavy with sleep.
If you stay near the sea, the magic sleeping pill that makes you doze off consists of the sounds of the waves, combined with the loud murmur of crickets and the dying crack of a bonfire. The walls of the tent bend irresistibly from the light sea breeze. You get all cozied up from the warmth of the down sleeping bag, still overwhelmed by new impressions of the day while listening to local sounds.
At higher altitudes, the woodlands smoothly flowed into the stone landscapes. In the mountains, I like this transition the most. Immediately you begin to understand the grandeur of the place. While jumping from one stone to another, you still need to spare some time to look at the panorama stretched out right in front of you, in all its glory. You stop, breathe, sip water, and continue walking to the base camp of Mount Tahtali.
During ancient times, Tahtalı Dağı was also known as the Lycian Olympus (the home of the gods). This mountain is the highest point on the coast of Antalya Province. Its highest point rises 2365 meters above sea level. We planned to spend the night at the base of Mount Tahtali and then set out for the summit at sunrise.
In search of a new camping site, the guys rushed ahead of us. It was hard to imagine anything more beautiful than the place they have found. A small plateau, surrounded by mountains, the tops of which were framed by the sunset glow – amazed us! That night, for the first time, I slept like a log.
A story about our descent from Lycian Olympus in a thundercloud.
In the morning, I woke up because of the bright, prolonged flashes. At first, I thought that guys were trying to wake us up with the help of flashlights. But when I leaned out of the tent in the semi-darkness, I quickly realized that everyone was still asleep. It turned out it was the lightning that was raging in the mountains, creating the illusion of a luminous light show.
The morning was cold and gloomy. We completely froze on our way up the mountain. The altitude made my ears pop. The weather changed every five minutes. At first, the mountains were covered with fog. A frosty wind violently blew over us. From the cold, my hand knuckles got frozen to the trekking pols. Then all of a sudden, the sun began to shine, exposing the incredible vistas opening right below us. This scenery caught my breath away. Finally, we were moving along the ridge of the mountain when the peak emerged ahead. The final push ... And yet another one ... The goal is near... Finally, we crawled to the top! There was so much satisfaction at this moment! And we began a long photo session on top of mount Tahtalı Dağı.
The most memorable part of this trek happened on our way down... Very quickly, the sky was covered with clouds, and it began to rain. The guys were far ahead of us while we still hanged out at the very top and completely lost track of time. We began to descend when the rain was already gaining its full strength. We hoped it was a temporary condition, and the rain will stop soon. But with every step, the rain only intensified. Rainstorm mixed with hail started to downpour on us mercilessly. The sky lit up. Lightning crashed directly over our heads; thunder boomed with madness. I thought to myself that in such an open space, and at this altitude, the likelihood of being struck by lightning increased a hundred times. This thought made me feel nervous. I avoided looking at the sky and didn’t want to piss off the “heaven’s beast” when thunder rumbled. It hailed so hard that it felt painful when pellets of frozen rain hit my hands. I covered my face the best I could, burying myself tightly in several layers of clothing. Only this action saved me from the lumps of ice hitting so hard. The fun didn't end there. Streams began to form along the trail. The stones and earth mixed together, turned into slippery and sticky mud, on which we simply rolled. “Waterproof” windbreaker soaked in just seconds. Water flowed down the collar. I was soaked to the bone. The sticky mash floated in my sneakers. My legs began to freeze, my body trembled. A huge arsenal of curses poured out of me. It somehow relieved stress... The descent seemed endless, and the downpour still continued. What should you do in this situation? It is impossible to stop, we will completely freeze. It makes no sense to go back. You only need to go forward. The main thing is not to accidentally stray off the path, thereby complicating your life. So, we walked and walked. First in silence, then cursing. I have never had such a powerful experience in the mountains. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. I was hysterical. I was hoping that after this trip, I would not get pneumonia. A lot of things were spinning in my head, but I tried to control myself, and modestly walk.
Finally, we saw a hut located on the saddle of Tahtalı. And next to it, our guys already started a fire. Almost there! Barely walking, we were drenched, agitated, and frozen to the bone. Immediately, the entire group fenced a fully ignited bonfire and put all our wet clothes around it to dry. Everybody got warm in seconds. This hut belonged to a Turkish family that permanently occupied it by running a small business, feeding tourists. We changed clothes at their place, ordered hot tea and local flatbreads. Seeing how the whole group got wet and cold, the hostess brought us local vodka. I felt good and calm right away. We all descended safely! Everyone is alive and well! In the meantime, our things began to burn a little at the bonfire... At one spot, someone's socks were burning, not too far from me – someone's trekking boot lost its small part, while my jacket acquired evenly burned holes. The hike was a success!
After coming back to our senses a little, we continued our way to a village. It took us a long time to get there. The hike was painful. After a difficult climb and an epic descent, my legs did not obey at all. When we reached the village, we decided to spend the night in a hostel. Before making our final decision as to what place to pick, we went around almost the entire village in search of a refuge. Finally, we opted for one of the hostels, but it took a long time to negotiate the price with a very grumpy old man, the owner of the place. Angry and exhausted, we agreed to all conditions! There was no strength left to go looking for dinner, so we decided to cook buckwheat on our gas burner right in the room. If this old man saw how we cooked buckwheat in his hostel, he probably would have had a heart attack!
The next morning, the "grumpy old man" prepared us such a gorgeous breakfast. Immediately, he ceased to seem so grumpy to me, and on a full stomach, was perceived as kind and hospitable. The table was full of fresh delicacies. Among the treats were home-pickled olives; farm-to-table tomatoes and cucumbers; chicken eggs, just collected from the coop; a warm loaf of bread; as well as delicious goat cheese that melted in the mouth. This breakfast is now on my list of the most delicious breakfasts I've ever tasted!
The Fires of the Chimera (Yanartas mountain).
I remember the camping site on the slope of the mountain range, overlooking mount Tahtali, from which we recently descended in a thundercloud. On this day, we were eager to get to the sea, but it was too far of a distance. It was already getting dark, and we did not have enough time to get there. We could only detect a turquoise spot looming below us.
We knew that not too far from our camping site, on the Yanartas mountain, there was this unusual natural phenomenon, when right out of the ground in several places a flame breaks out, called - The Fires of the Chimera. The Eternal Flame ignites by itself due to the natural gas that bursts to the surface. On the slope, you can see several of these flammable "fires" burning for thousands of years nonstop.
Having heard that Chimeras look just fabulous at night, at dusk, we decided to go on a mini-adventure. It was a long descent in the darkness. On our way down, we saw two burning flames. There was this strong smell of gas floating in the air. This marvel looks astounding! But the bigger Chimera cluster was much lower, and we still needed to get there. A narrow mountain trail was periodically misleading us. Either we found ourselves a millimeter away from the abyss and wandered around until we returned to the starting point on the trail, or suddenly the path would bend down so steeply that in the dark, it was impossible to descend. At some point, we got lost completely. But after checking the map, we managed to find our way out. It was scary to get lost in the mountains at night. We even considered turning back, but the spirit of adventurism continued to drive everyone towards the intended goal.
Finally, we saw some lights nearby. There were a bunch of people surrounding those lights. Most tourists get to The Fires of the Chimera from local villages by using transportation. I doubt anyone decides to go uphill afterward and see additional Chimeras.
Probably, it was quite funny for them to watch a bunch of semi-wild people appearing from the mountains. And then, in an organized manner, going back uphill, leaving behind only a very slight trace of headlamps, diluting the night darkness of the mountain ranges.
02 CHAPTER
SEA
Sketch 1: They’ve descended from the mountains and saw the sea for the first time.
After a long descent from the mountains, we were exhausted. Our initial plan was to get near the sea on a previous day, but we couldn't make it that day due to delay, and only witnessed the sea horizon looming somewhere in the distance. You should’ve seen our faces when the sea appeared so close that you could almost feel a salty aftertaste in the mouth. The immediate reaction was to lift a heavy load off of my shoulders and throw myself into the depths of the sea. The coastal pebbles were pitilessly digging into the feet full of blisters, resulted from ill-fitting trekking boots. We were wandering along the coast, triggered by heat, and enviously stared at the relaxed vacationers, who were dipping their tanned bodies into the water. Impatience grew stronger. Finally, the perfect spot was found. All our stuff was thrown into a huge and messy pile. The body began to free itself from clothes that had almost permanently grown into my skin during the trip. We were frantically changing into swimsuits, swimming trunks, and the pieces of our wardrobe were sporadically flying in the air. It smelled like sunscreen. Here it is - a real satisfaction! People who descended from the mountains and saw the sea for the first time, like children, jumped into the water, screaming in unison with delight.
Sketch 2: when you don't know where you will be spending the night, and it doesn’t matter.
We decided to spend the night right on a public beach near the sea. But when it started to get darker outside, the police officers came and politely asked us to leave, explaining that our presence could prevent the local turtles from laying eggs. By actively collecting our stuff, we pretended that we were leaving. But the law enforcement officers were annoyingly hovering around, so we had to quickly get ready and leave.
What could we do? The plan was to go to the other side of the beach, and when it finally gets dark, quietly put-up tents, and with the sunrise, also quietly pack up and leave without being noticed. Local dogs looked at us with understanding, and even, probably, with pity. But this situation did not bother us in any way! We decided to drink Turkish tea in the nearest, beach restaurant. The place turned out to be very cozy and the people super hospitable. We were given tea and dinner. The evening turned out to be magical! The world seemed to be so simple. Conversations were struck up naturally and with ease. My head was spinning from the sea breeze. Emotions were running high! We didn't know where we were going to spend the night, and it didn't matter!
The Pirate Bay.
The sea adventures continued, and this time we wanted to get to the beautiful Pirate Bay, located near the village of Karaoz. The morning turned out to be a little extreme, as we tried to stow away through the thorns of the ancient city of Olympos and then climbed rocky steeps, barely keeping our balance. A little ragged, we got out from the bushes and found ourselves on the Lycian trail again, winding up and down the already beloved mountain ranges. This passage was exhaustingly long and not as scenic as our previous treks. When we approached the village, all the girls decided to spend the night in a hostel to recover. And the guys continued their way to the Pirate Bay to spend the night in the tents. The next morning, we all agreed to reunite and spend the whole day and the following night next to the sea.
At nighttime, we decided to check out the wonderful Pirate Bay. Suddenly, we all felt a second wave of energy and strength rising from within. Why can’t we ever sit still? And even in a half-asleep state, we are seeking more adventures. Suddenly forgetting all about our sore blisters and fatigue, which knocked us down a minute earlier, we are rushing into the night, climbing the mountain slopes. It was important not to miss a single moment spent here. As if this is the only chance - to live to the fullest, so that later on we could horde everything we saw and experienced into our memory bank.
Thus, we wandered in the silence of the night along the mountain path. First, we climbed up, then descended to the sea, until we noticed the light of a fire, and near it, the shadows of our boys. A steep, winding trail led us to the shore. From above, it was visible how a cove framed by rocks jutted into the beach.
The place was unique, and even at night, it looked amazing. The surface of the sea froze like a mirror and lethargically sparkled in the moonlight. There was not a single soul on the beach, except for us. It was silent, and you can only distinguish the trill of crickets. It seemed like an army of them has grown near the sea. Each cricket was trying at all costs to be heard. The flame of fire flared up more and more. There was a feeling that the real pirates had landed on the shore and had a small feast. We were silent. Surprisingly, this silence was in harmony with the silence of the wild. Our female presence did not fit such a well-coordinated pirate company.
After sitting for a while by the water and carefully reviewing the full moon hovering right over our heads, we felt a little rejected and marched back into the pitch darkness to our hostel to recuperate. The next day was pure relaxation, with no crossings, just swimming in the sea.
Cape Gelidonya Feneri.
We spent one more day, or rather an evening, at sea. From the forest edge, on which our camp was situated, it was possible to go down the rigid stone slope right into the water. The place was kind of wild. We crawled into the sea with difficulty. Waves knocked us off and deliberately dragged along the sharp pebbles that were sticking out under the water. When the next wave rolled over me, I was caught by surprise. My helpless body drifted miserably in the seafoam for a long time, trying to restore its lost balance. Until finally, I began to crawl on my belly and outstretched arms towards the shore, waiting for the unavoidable wave to knock me down again. So, I feebly rolled, back and forth, cutting my arms and legs into a bloody mess, until I managed to make the final push and spit myself out onto the land. This was the one and only trip to the sea that day.
After the extreme swimming game, the freshly cooked buckwheat was right on time. All of a sudden, a romantic mood was set. A fire was burning. A conversation struck up. My cheeks flushed.
We set up our campsite relatively close to Cape Gelidonya Feneri and its namesake lighthouse. The cape is rightfully considered one of the best vantage points on the entire route, and a lighthouse is its very precious pearl worth visiting on the Lycian Way. Our plans have changed a bit. At first, we wanted to put up our tents, and then at sunset, walk to a lighthouse with no backpacks. It was a two-hour walk one way, and we already felt tired. So, we decided that those of us who want to see the Lighthouse could do it at around 5 a.m. to catch the sunrise. The idea did not arouse strong enthusiasm among the entire team since it was our tenth day of trekking, and we all were exhausted. To be honest with you, I doubted that I would wake up at this early hour. Fatigue accumulated during all this time, and my legs were aching with pain. But like a soldier trained in a war, I woke up right on time and was ready to go, along with those few of us who still decided to go to see the Lighthouse.
We got ready in ten minutes, in pitch darkness. Without wasting time on breakfast, we put the headlights on and crawled along the trail to a lighthouse. For some reason, when I was walking in the darkness, I concentrated much better. The pace began to accelerate, and my legs were moving obediently, not knowing fatigue. I perceived the world in a completely different light. It was so quiet; I could only hear the distinctive calls of owls. Where was I going, why? It was not clear. I kept on walking anyway. Wouldn’t it be great to see the sunrise at a lighthouse? I am guessing the need for new impressions was the real cause of doing all of this. It seemed like we became impression gatherers and desperately searched for them every day. And everyday life gave us a full range to enjoy. The sun usually starts to rise in the mountains around seven o’clock, so we were in a hurry and didn’t want to miss the magical moment. We got so fixated on our steps that we missed the sign that indicated the turn to a lighthouse. We had to walk back a little until we finally made it to the final section of the trek. The light from the sky started to appear. We saw a rocky landscape, crowned with the lighthouse, to which we walked for long two hours, in the dark, half-asleep. As we got closer, a view of the archipelago of five small islands and dizzying sea expanses opened up. We made it right before the sunrise! The clouds had just begun to appear in different shades of pink. It was incredible! And most importantly - the entire day was still ahead.
Upon returning to the camp, we needed to pack up quickly and run to the village. We had to catch a bus that was scheduled to leave for the city of Demre at a specific time. After walking for four hours to the Lighthouse and back, we were already exhausted. To Demre, our group arrived even more tired. But we still needed to get to our next camping site. And so, we walked for a long time, along the road that led us to the sea, until we came across a local authentic seafood restaurant. The main dush was grilled fish and vegetables. Our happiness knew no bounds! There we met a Turkish boy who fluently spoke Russian. In the process of communication, he offered us to take a ride on a fishing boat. We had a free day before leaving for Antalya, so we were all very excited about this idea.
Boat trip and swimming in the cove.
"Jump! You need to overcome your fears," he said. And I jumped.
I am a terrible coward who is afraid of everything, especially – diving underwater. Each time I face this fear, it paralyzes me, particularly when I start imagining how water begins to absorb me, seeping through the nostrils, streaming down my throat, and gradually filling up the lungs. The most terrible thing is not even these unpleasant sensations in the nose and throat, but the realization that there is an imaginary abyss right below, an unknown something. It is difficult to take this one step into the unknown and lose the ground under the feet. My knees were shaking while I was standing and looking at the water below, trying to get a grip. During that moment, it seemed like no force could ever move me from that spot. Those of you who are afraid to dive as much as I am will understand me!
Alone, I would probably have never dared to do it. I only agreed to dive under one condition: we hold hands and jump in sync. For some reason, this thought gave me peace and confidence that everything will work out fine. The drum rolls started beating inside. I grabbed the outstretched hand and squeezed it very tightly, afraid to accidentally let go during the jump. In response, his hand also strongly gripped my hand. The fear subsided a little. It was too late to retreat. For about a minute, we just stood there, holding hands and drawing more air into our lungs. The countdown has begun: one, two... stop! Let's count again... one, two, inhale... and... the legs lifted off of the boat. In a split of a second, we smoothly landed into the water, fully plunging our bodies, and then very swiftly emerging above the surface. This experience was not scary at all! I was proud that I dared to do it…
This boat ride has become one of the highlights of the entire trip. A simple fishing boat, very familiar sea, but every moment was special: those instants when we sat on a boat and enjoyed the views of the boundless sea and each other's company; the moment when we sailed over the sunken city and then walked through the ruins of an ancient fortress; an unexpected boat ride into a cave, half-submerged by the mirror-like sea surface; all communications with the captain, almost in sign language; and of course, my reckless jump into the sea. Like small children, we rejoiced at every second lived. It was so good!
Thanks to Saint Nicholas.
The remains of the ancient city of Myra are located just a few kilometers from Demre. At one point, Myra was the capital of the Lycian Union. One of the most impressive ruins of the ancient past that I saw there was the large Roman amphitheater. It amazed me with its scale and authenticity. I also visited the church of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker (mostly known as Santa Claus), built in the 4th century. Saint Nicholas of Myra was the patron of all the travelers and wanderers. Supposedly, a marble sarcophagus that is located inside the church once contained his relics. There is this special energy floating in the air when you enter the place. I immediately started to feel calm and relaxed. We wandered among the marble columns and sarcophagi, instilled with the spirit of antiquity. At some point, I had an urge to quietly thank Saint Nicholas for protecting us, all this time, from potential dangers that could’ve interfered with our travel plans.
PS: The next day, when our group was already far from the coastal zone, we heard the news that not too far from the place, where we recently camped out, there was a strong earthquake that provoked a tsunami. As a result of the natural disaster, 116 people were killed, and 1,034 people were injured. Our camping tents stood in the immediate vicinity of the sea, and most likely, all of us would’ve been simply washed away from the face of the earth in an instant. Once again, I mentally thanked Saint Nicholas the Wonderworker for his protection!
03 CHAPTER
THE CITY
Istanbul Rock and Roll.
I have been to Istanbul once before. It was a time when a new love was born, and I was happy and full of hope in this city. It is so strange to come back here, in a completely different role, during turbulent times, after so many years, and rediscover Istanbul once again. I felt a little nostalgic, walking across a very familiar Galata Bridge, which connects the old and new parts of the European side of Istanbul. I gazed at the fishermen, who seemed like they’ve settled there for eternity. Little has changed here, but I went through a drastic transformation.
We walked a lot, absorbing the atmosphere of the city. And on the last day, we took a ferry that transported us to the Asian side of the city. It turned out to be livelier and, paradoxically, more European there. For the last time, we drank a very strong, and perhaps the most delicious, Turkish coffee of the entire trip, right on the street. I sipped every drop of the thickly brewed coffee from a small traditional cup with the national ornament. I started to interpret patterns in coffee grounds, to predict my fortune. The guys immediately saw roads, mountains, and grand spaces in the coffee pattern, formed on the walls of the cup. New travels? I was happy to see that.
“What if we send each other postcards from Istanbul?” Someone suggested, “Everyone should secretly draw lots with the address of someone from the group, and then, without giving out the name, send a postcard to that person?” - another one picked up. The entire group supported the proposal. All we had to do is buy a postcard, draw lots, write a secret message, and send “greetings from Istanbul” to the addressee. We were drawing lots from a hat without looking. There was a mystery floating in the air. What will it be like to receive a postcard from Istanbul in a couple of weeks, maybe months after the return? How many memories and good feelings will it surface?
It took a very long time to choose postcards. Covering the addresses with our hands, we squatted on the steps near the store and scribbled our messages. It turned out that the post office was already closed, and everyone was leaving the next day. We were puzzled and started to ask the store manager some questions. He offered to mail us the postcards if we could pay him for the stamps. So, even though everyone was a little skeptical, we decided to do this. There was no other choice. We sincerely hoped he would not throw away our precious cards. As Varya said, "It is important to trust people."
And then we came across a Rock and Roll bar and realized that this was a perfect spot to spend our last night in Turkey. The atmosphere of the place matched our mood. We could relate to every single song that was on the playlist that night. Each song filtered into the subconsciousness and memories of early youth. The energy of the place and our general state of joyful delirium did not allow us to sit still. Although no one was dancing in this place, the legs by themselves rushed into a dance, into some kind of emotional frenzy. The body moved without knowing the limits, as if in a trance. I wanted to get rid of everything bad that had accumulated in me over the years, and everything that will be accumulated in the future. Local clienteles looked at us with interest and asked where we came from.
Even those of us, who did not dare to dance all night long, with the first sounds of the song by Blur (Song 2), got up and started dancing. It was a communal madness! We were wailing and jumping. Isn't this a great ending to a wonderful journey?!
At one in the morning, still charged with the energy of Rock and Roll, we were crossing the same Galata Bridge. I left the past behind me, and a completely new life, a new era awaited ahead. In a couple of hours, I will fly back to New York, but a part of me will probably still wander around Istanbul streets for a long time, dancing Rock and Roll.
EPILOGUE:
On the trail, we all lived several lives and hypostases. Heavy rain and hail were pouring down on us. Bulky backpacks bent us with their heavy loads. We were spoiled by the gentle sea and lulled by the murmur of crickets. We gained strength and vitamins from pomegranate trees. Ginger stray cats smiled at us while passing tourists quenched our thirst. A part of each of us will forever remain in those places – where we felt good and challenged at the same time.
01 CHAPTER