“Your sickness is from you, but you do not perceive it,
and your remedy is within you, but you do not sense it. You presume you are a small entity, but within you is enfolded the entire Universe. You are indeed the evident book, by whose alphabet the hidden becomes manifest. Therefore you have no need to look beyond yourself. What you seek is within you, if only you reflect.”
Imam Ali
Şükrü: But most humans want pain, Lana. Think about how people live, and what choices they make, and you will see that the great majority of them chose to suffer. Choosing to be happy is the exception.
Lana: Only the brave are happy, it takes courage. The examined vs the unexamined life
Şükrü: but it is more than that I think, I personally believe that suffering is what makes people, who otherwise feel numb and dead, feel alive. Pain defines and highlights happiness, without shadow, there is no light!
Lana: but then suffering is essential, it allows meaning. It is that red traffic light that forces us to stop, God’s wake-up call, jolting us from a vegetative/ default state (even if we thought we are doing well). Besides, it builds character, it makes us see beyond our pathetic selves, we become less self-centered, less dramatic, and men become men!
Şükrü: not if suffering was self-induced
Lana: we all need a rite of passage of some sort, only some of us may choose to linger there forever, freedom is expensive man!
Finding an inquisitive mind, a philosopher, and a pal to have long deep conversations with was an unexpected turn of events, and I found it in no other than a tiny pansiyon in a tiny village at the outskirts of Şirince.
Şükrü gave me food for thought, Ideas I visit and revisit. Deep into eastern philosophy (he lived years in an Ashram in India) well read, and intelligent, he was the cherry on top of my Şirince adventure. We enjoyed long – I mean very long – conversations over copious amounts of his signature Chai Masala
Şükrü: it does not matter what we think Lana, we are not that important.
July 3rd/ 2023
(Dude if you have not read the previous blog, now it's a good time. Why not take this travel series from the beginning though)
I reached Şirince – merkez I guess– a tad after 10:00 am. Although stores were barely open I could see how this is some sort of a tourist trap, happy tourists I’m guessing as it is quite cute. Old world charm turned cash machine …. in my opinion at least, which made me all the more glad this ain’t where I am heading. My destination is a humble pansiyon on the outskirts of this charming village, in the mountains – of course – where I will enjoy endless hikes – as per the owner’s description – and live …. well naturally, what does that mean exactly, I will be finding out.
The plan was to walk – yes with a heavy backpack – there. The Pension’s page says it’s a tedious uphill walk, to me that sounded like the workout I cannot have. I tried Google. Donno about you guys, but me and Google never got along, and every single time I have used it I ended up either completely lost or gone the exact opposite direction, whether it is my un-savyness or a big conspiracy against … women who deadlift more than all those IT dudes combined, I ain’t sure.
Thirty minutes later, I call it quits and resort to the Turkish/ Arab way of doing things … which is ask. Big mistake! It always seems to me that in Turkey – just like in Egypt – people out of politeness or whatever don’t wanna let you down, so they end up giving you directions … any directions, like my guess is as good as theirs.
Long story short, I walk and walk only to end up in the WRONG place.
Think Lana, think .. what do normal people do in such a situation?
I dial the pension’s number … no answer
Let’s play the game of “I will keep dialing/ ringing nonstop” until someone rises from the dead.
10 trials later a dude whom I have obviously woken up answers, surprised by my arrival, he offers to fetch me. I mean I am the only guest arriving that day, I have announced my arrival the night before, yep that included the anticipated time!
Minutes later a nice looking, salt and pepper guy on a scooter stops by the bit of sidewalk – if you could call it that – where I am sitting , somewhat stupefied, the muscles I guess (he never thought he’d see one of them gals in real) asks if I was Lana. I answered: In the flesh.
Now I’m wondering how the hell we will manage the bag. Not wanting to waste the remainder of my grey cells I leave such issues to the male species of the human race.
An industrious dude he manages to tie it somehow to the back, I hop behind, announcing that i may unabashedly be hugging/ clinging to him tightly. If the bag commits suicide, I don’t wanna follow suit.
The road to the pension – basically a maze of narrow old village alleys - was like the most rugged off road terrain, we had to push the scooter forward more times than I can count. Always in the wrong time and wrong place I could not stop the pile of questions, which meant screaming in the dude’s ears, and a ton of “what! Can you say that again I can’t hear you” on top of my lungs. I gotta give it to Şükrü though; he was super nice (or patient)
For the fraction of a second I stopped my chatter, I sensed something by my side. I glanced and there was this huge black and white dog racing the scooter, wind in his face, happy happy happy. It was Şükrü’s dog.
Kral, the king and the dog I wish I had. Me, Şükrü and Kral will have many such journeys - just like scenes in a movie - and I will fall in love with Kral and wish from the bottom of my heart that he was mine.
Like Şükrü himself the pension was authentic, real and simple, but full of warmth, character and charm.
An XXXXL linden tree embraces you as you enter – after you pass the donkey – where I will sit, write, socialize with neighbors, and listen to Şükrü play the Oud and sing, everyone will be drinking Rakı while i – with Kral at my heels - munch on walnuts and apricots picked from the nearby land.
It did not take long for me to feel completely at home (like 15 odd minutes). Thing is, i soooo own any place I go to, I never feel uneasy anywhere, but there, it was MY HOUSE as in literally it felt mine.
Warm, friendly, and with impeccable English Şükrü was amazing. After taking the grand tour of the place, dropping my bag I joined him in the kitchen, both die hard foodies we prepared a yummy yum yum meal, lunch for me and breakfast for him. Toasted Goat cheese sandwiches his neighbor – a goat herder - made, fresh sourdough bread a lady in the village bakes, sausages from a Selçuk butcher, mountain oregano he gathered, cumin, hot peppers. We dipped all that in some beautiful olive oil.
Food for the stomach and soul. Done with the nom nom I offered to wash the dishes and help with the cleaning. To be honest I was in my element there that I will end up helping Şükrü with laundry, cleaning, gardening, cooking … etc We even talked about me moving there, helping out run the place in return for food and accommodation. Not a bad deal if you ask me!
After squeezing the last drops of coffee from the two big mocha pots I tag along Şükrü as he goes to fetch water (cold spring water gushing from the mountains, and that gents and gents was all that I drank there), I also ask him to show me where he got that incredible cheese, and while we are at it, why not introduce me to the neighbors (I mean there is only a handful of houses).
Visiting the neighbors was THE BEST IDEA, not only people were super nice, but with each visit, we would be invited into the orchards to pick all the fruit we wish, and boy we ate, we raided those trees like there was no tomorrow. Apples, nectarines, mulberry, cherries, pear … Şirince is known for its incredibly delicious fruit, I can vouch for that. I mean what fruit won’t taste exquisite where there is sun, fertile soil, goats, and clean pure fresh spring water.
Indeed the whole area, including the mountains is littered with fruit trees that it became a daily affair to pick mulberries and apples – even fill my bag – and just eat. Şirince is also wine country, vineyards everywhere, and wine tasting is one of its major attractions. Not for me though, as the most potent and dangerous thing I drink is coffee.
Village trips, and the bread lady
Hiking the mountains there was just an out of this world experience – at least for me – this place has a certain feel/ vibe to it, it just fit. My routine was simple, I would wake up before dawn, walk to the outdoor kitchen to make a big pot of coffee then sit outside, watch the moon as it fades into dawn and just before sunrise I will have a breakie (sour dough bread, butter and cheese) and go for a 3 – 4 hour mountain hike.
Back at the pension, Şükrü barely waking up (later 2 more guests will join), we will have a hearty breakfast and I will work a bit then help Şükrü with the chores. Sometimes people and neighbors will pass by which was always pleasant. The rest was just playing around with the cats and dogs, and reading.
My " Farmer look" is so becoming
On my last day me, Şükrü and kral decided to hike a specific mountain where Şükrü promised I would see the most beautiful sunset in the world, he brought his Oud and we picked some munchies from the merkez and off we went.
As expected in Turkey, we kept bumping into hordes of stray dogs, Kral seemingly nice and friendly, could not fool me, from day 1 I saw a streak of dominance and aggression that I knew is ready to burst out when needed, my kinda Dog!
The dogs started to become somewhat of a nuisance (I became immune as I have got used to being chased by wild dogs in my hikes, and just like I don’t fear bee stings anymore because I have been stung a million times, I have little fear of any wild dogs) and though all we wanted was to just move along, Kral had other ideas, he wanted to assert himself. Up to a point we were able to distract him, but that ended when a pack of 6 big dogs appeared out of nowhere blocking our way as if to say: no you don’t, you ain’t passing, go back.
The chance he was waiting for; he pounced on 3 of them, it was not defense, he wanted war, and we could not stop him. Having the upper hand the dogs ran away, but Kral was not finished yet, he followed them. At this point Şükrü – who has never been in such a situation – was shouting hysterically, I personally knew that this was normal and there was nothing we could do, I was not that worried as Kral was the winner, I admit I was proud of him, I mean I like dogs to be dogs, just as I like men to be men. And today Kral was the man. Şükrü however was a bereaved dad who saw his baby attacked!
10 minutes that felt like an hour later, Kral emerges, victorious, and SUPER happy, however badly injured. He limped towards me and his tearful human, then went to a specific corner and marked his territory, that’s what’s it all about I thought. All he wanted, it’s his nature.
Sun already down, everything we packed – including Şükrü’s sandals – were used as weapons against the dogs, Kral injured, we stopped a passing car, it is vital that he be taken to the vet. I leave them to it, there is no need for me, and I walk back home to enjoy the remainder of the evening alone in the pansiyon before its bed time.
My big boy licking his wounds post- fight
Next morning, i head for the mountains to say goodbye, I venture a bit further and stumble into what I can call my dream house (although to be honest I don’t dream of houses, I dream of experiences and meaning). An old stone cottage on top of a hill, literally in the middle of nowhere (how is there a “for sale” sign I have no idea) surrounded by apple orchards.
The notorious tress passer that I am, I linger there for some time, playing house. I eat, drink water from the gushing stream, and pick as many apples as possible, then say goodbye and head back all the while dreaming of how that house is now mine and contemplating all the details of turning it into a top notch nature health resort.
I cannot lie, I loved this place so much I did not want to leave, and if it weren’t for my arrangement with Fabi and Brant I would have stayed 100%. It is far gone now, but I swear that when I left that village, I felt my heart lingered there for a while, something I have not experienced before (nope, I was running from Istanbul and everything in it for my life).
Destination: Bodrum, a city I never thought I would ever visit, but it’s my only watergate to Datça.
To be continued …