Selcuk, Koycegiz, and Paragliding in Olu Deniz

« Return to Turkey

The return bus to Fethiye passed resort towns up the coast, where prices are displayed in pound sterling and restaurants have names like The Union Jack and The English Rose. It’s a taste of England-by-the-sea, and not even sweet rosewater lokums (Turkish Delight) can sweeten this package-tour hell. Pink, sunburnt Brits are whining and moaning, and that night I make a point of walking further out of town to find a restaurant where the prices are reasonable, the smiles genuine and I don’t have to listen to the Worst Four Songs in the World, played in sequential order and on repeat in any bar and club in Europe. They are:
1. Gasolina - Daddy Yankees’s crime against humanity.
2. My Number One - Helena Paparizou won last year’s Eurovision with these three minutes of audio torture.
3. California Dreaming (Remix) - following me all the way from Argentina, I dream of the day it disappears into one-hit wonderland.
4. Dali or Bali, Nali, or Whatever-ali - a hip-pop mess that makes me want to take a sharp pencil, place in my left nostril, and slam my head down on a desk.

Fortunately, at the Deep Blue Bar, I play backgammon to a wicked soundtrack that could easily have been ripped from my iPod. I rolled a double six to win the series, much to the disappointment of the Turks following the match. “Remember, you’re playing a Turk!” I was warned beforehand. Yeah, but you’re playing a Gonzo named Esrock.

Tonight, another night bus north to the underground city of Gorome in Cappadocia. Before I left on this trip, people asked me what country I was looking forward to the most. I usually responded with Turkey. I had a feeling it would mix incredible natural beauty, with warm human spirit and a first-class infrastructure. With Fate, Luck and Beauty floating my parachute, it looks like I was right on the money.

Olympos Yachting Office
Fethiya, Turkey

Gonzo Gallery for Selcuk, Koycegiz, and Paragliding in Olu Deniz

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