Selcuk, Koycegiz, and Paragliding in Olu Deniz

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Alison helped me plot out a loose attack for Turkey, where the most popular tourist destinations are focused in the west. A four-hour bus south, during which I had a great conversation with Karol, an American who has lived and studied Buddhism in Dharmsala for eleven years, I hopped off in Koycegiz, for no good reason other than it was there. No good reasons have a knack for turning into the best reasons, this time in the form of a beautiful lake, quiet village and a laid-back hostel with great people. Tango Pension has hammocks, free bikes to explore the town, good food and drink, music tuned into to Café Del Mar or thereabouts, and a guy named Ziggy with a fondness for firedancing. They also organized a late night booze cruise, and next thing I know I’m dancing on a boat and skinny dipping in clear waters, my butt cheeks reflecting like white orbs beneath a bright full moon. Said it before and I’ll say it again…too much fun.

A funny night for coincidences as I meet Julia, who is the Round-the-World travel columnist for the Toronto Star. She’s two months in, and we’re both fascinated by how the hell we find ourselves traipsing around the world, with a laptop and a prayer. We talk for hours about deadlines and stories and pressures and tips, reassured by a mutual sense of camaraderie. Most of the travellers, including Julia, are on the hop-on hop-off Fez Bus that departs the next day, so I jump on a boat cruise overflowing with Turks for a relaxing Sunday jaunt. It doesn’t take long before I’m befriended by Ilhan, his brother Orham, Sercan, and this Cool Turkish Guy. It’s a grand day out; drifting past 2000-year-old Lyceum Rock Tombs along canals to a huge sandy beach on the Mediterranean. We bake in the sun, swim in the sea, BBQ on the boat, jump from the roof into the lake, and soak for ages with the help of those glorious pool noodles. I am the only English guy on board, but it’s no matter - the hospitality of the Turks truly can be overwhelming. That night there are just a few of us in the hostel, but it turns into grape-fuelled funfest anyway. Koyecegiz is somewhat off the beaten track, but the boat cruise, Tango and the people I met is one seriously good reason for visiting it again in the future.

Back on the bus. Buses in Turkey are excellent; air-conditioned, modern, no smoking and free drinks along the way. I knew it would be hot in August, but now we’re cracking thermometers. Next stop is Fethiye and the resort town of Olu Deniz, home to the world’s Mecca for paragliding. I first heard about Olu Deniz in Rio when I went hanggliding, caught amidst a friendly argument over which form of gliding is better. Hanggliding certainly knocked my socks off, and I was urged to give paragliding a try if I got the opportunity. Particularly in Olu Deniz, where the weather is perfect most of the year and the views unbeatable. Through Alison’s friend at Olympos Yachting, I met Hector of Hector’s Paragliding and by mid-morning I’m inching my way up a steep, dry, dusty mountain pass in the back of an all-terrain truck. It takes a torturous hour to get up the mountain, and the steep, rocky drop-offs reminded me of the World’s Most Dangerous Road in Bolivia. “We do this five times a day, seven days a week, six months a year,” explains Alper. The pilots look bored as the driver takes corners with his foot flat on the pedal, as if he could drive this route with eyes closed. At 6000 feet, the top of the mountain is buzzing with solo paragliders and tandem companies enjoying another busy season. Take-off involves running until your feet no longer touch the ground, as the pilot controls everything from behind you. As I suited up (sweating like the Formula One drivers who lose up to 5kg per race), I waited for my wobbly knees and the tingling in my bladder to kick in. But running off a wooden platform with a fixed wing seemed far scarier than the gentle take-off of the paragliders. Strapped in, we waited a few minutes for the right wind and started running. A few seconds later, I’m flying, stunned at the ease and speed of take-off, and the panorama before me. Olu Deniz clearly deserves its reputation as a paraglider’s nirvana. Over half an hour later, we land softly on the beach. My new friend Gizem, an anesthesiologist from Ankara, expected me to be whooping and cheering, but instead I was all green, swaying like a table on two legs and a soccer ball. I had overheated and stimulated out…it took a while before my heart stopped chasing butterflies. She ran to get me a Coke, bless her, and recovery was swift. An hour later, I’m stretched out and cooled down on the beach beneath a parasol, watching dozens of paragliding fairies floating overhead. “So,” says Gizem, “paragliding or hanggliding?” With hanggliding, I got more thrill, more speed, and no motion sickness. With paragliding, I got more time, more peace, and it’s a hell of a lot easier to set-up and come down. I’ll take them both, thanks. Mental Note: Find out about paragliding and hanggliding in Vancouver.

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