OR, REST DAY TODAY AFTER OVERDOING IT IN MY GARDEN
I woke up last night with a truly terrible cramp in my calf. The muscle was so rigid and the pain so intense I couldn’t even swing it to the floor to push against it. I knew that it would result in muscle burn and that today plans had to be changed. Then when I awoke in the morning I ate almonds for the magnesium and some dried apricots and then had a spell of nausea. I should have known I was imploding after having a terrible deep siesta sleep the previous day that you feel you will never be able to resurface from. Clearly I had a bit of sunstroke A day of rest was in order. A Zen day today my friends, some yoga and meditation after my last few hectic days.
Upon returning from Miletus I had rushed to Tire to make an appointment with my friend Elif from the museum there and her archaeologist colleague Osman. The following day I got a lift into Tire rather early and used the time to go round the huge market to find the stall I remembered that had second hand old pots and pans and assorted goodies. After a long search in the bustling bazaar I found it and was relieved to see the man was clearly getting in a healthy flow of kitchenalia. As I am still pursuing my dream despite many setbacks I wanted to reinforce positive energy. In my imagination I will have old decorative pieces hanging from hooks in my stone house. These probably won’t be used for actual cooking but be merely decorative or for my fabric dyeing. The old metal pots looked suitably grungy and there were some lovely copper sieves and trays at a fraction of the price of new stuff. Hooting with delight I set off for my meeting at the museum.
FINALLY MEETING OSMAN THE ARCHAEOLOGIST!
Elif and I wandered up the even busier that earlier streets to meet with Osman at the Zelbeck Museum. By then I was tired as I was only just back from my road trip and suddenly felt drained and, well, floppy. The sun was intense and suddenly I went Mexican and wanted a siesta, but on arriving all that changed. What an animated discussion we had and how diverse. We went from exploding experimental pottery in BBQs , to ancient sites in the area, to Graham Hancock’s splendid series on Netflix, to Egyptian mysteries at pyramids (Osmans field is ancient Egypt), to Mexico and politics. It was a truly wonderful meet up and I hope can be repeated in the near future, possibly after a quick trip Alabanda on the advice of Osman. I can report back after doing my homework like a good girl. I also hope to finally get to Goblekli Tepe next week so will report back to them.
I can’t wait.
The trip back was farcical. Next time I really must get A Turkish sim but am reluctant after last time (don’t even ask) Let’s just say that I could have flown to Gobekli Tepe in the time it took because of the tortuous arrangement we had to make on picking me up from a very tardy minibus. On arriving home I went and had a beer and ordered food. I was in need of an early night but my brain was racing with all the information I had gleaned from Osman and Elif. Always when travelling this is a bloody nuisance and stops me from sleeping. Dammit I wanted to have an early start the next day and go to my garden after an absence of six days. I was homesick for it and the village.
I left for the garden early and was so glad to see it in the early morning light. I rallied quickly to do the raking before it got too hot and gave it a tidy round. Then I got to the business of finally discovering which were the last stems of ivy still strangling the poor old olive tree. I was on a roll so tried to finishing removing the last of the wire fence that has cut into the trunk and got a lot done without wire cutters. It was time for my tea with Irem so I plodded up to her place in my big work boots. I gave her the news about the wonderful talk at the museum and to my horror noticed my arch enemy the rottweiler trotting past her house as he had done mine only twenty minutes earlier. Apparently he has started to get bolder and comes further up the mountain now with no collar on, a bloody menace and now I’m stressed about that. Irem had called the owner but he was very offhand much like when I had complained months earlier. This is the only down side for me as he has forced me to walk the long, hot, difficult road route instead of the pretty mountain path with a much lower gradient. My nemesis is winning…..for the moment.
Went straight onto mosque fountain for my daily ritual ablutions and drink of that magical mountain water and the lady who has the shop dragged me in for chai and a chat with her two pals. I made a great fuss of her and she was proud and smirky. One has to make friends with the beer and fag shop owner and we always have a good miming gossip, I know they think I’m mad but now at least I’m their exotic pet rather than a possible enemy. Then back to work again. I decided to risk putting up the second hammock with the rope left and managed to hoist the rather heavy thing up on my own. It was beer o’clock. Glug glug then pick some walnuts for snacks at my cabin, puff puff feed the last of my sandwich to the chicken and her chicks and moan moan as I walked back to the fish restaurant feeling feverish and light headed.
Sunstroke and me are old aquaintances. Back at the cabin I felt my feverish forehead and knew with dread what I was up against for at least the next twenty four hours. I lay on the bed and fell into the scary deep sleep of the fried brain. The trouble with me is I get so enthusiastic that I don’t notice hours passing in my passion for projects, and although I was wearing my cap most of the time I wear it rakishly with the peak to the back so unwittingly had my forehead in the full sun. What a silly old bird.
By the evening I couldn’t finish my food and retired to my cabin shakily. As I said earlier I woke with terrible leg cramps in the early hours and slept uneasily for the rest of the night. Morning nausea and a churning stomach was my reward for overdoing it for the last few days. Home day for me delicately taking photos of the garden and beautiful flowers and resting. No yoga just a bit of laundry and dyeing a couple of my tatty white t-shirts with some turmeric was all I could muster
MORNING OF FLOWERS. DEGIRMEN RESTAURANT AND MY TEMPORARY HOME.
The paradise garden here is such an oasis. Still flowering abundantly, a green oasis in the beautiful but arid olive tree covered mountains.
While wandering around I pondered on the length of time I’ve been here, two months now, and how this garden never stopped giving. Whether in the form of the music of the waterfalls and fountains and streams or in the form of the ever blossoming and changing of this verdant place. Sometimes I’ve been too captivated in the thrill of battling in my garden to remember how this place is my salvation of the senses without me even noticing it. This soothing and much needed environment has healed me after the terrible stresses of Soho living. As I brush past the huge basil plants their aroma also uplifts me along with the many other herbs including mint. My vegetables in my salad actually have the full robust flavour that was always intended and the sun and the generous amounts of coconut and olive oil I put on my face and body are nourishing me too. I generally seem to smell more like a mixed salad than a person.
This massive tiered garden shaded under walnut trees looks almost prehistoric in the morning light and the stars shine brightly at night above this halloed piece of land as if guardians to it. And yes I am getting soft. This indeed is a spiritual journey and we must grab its essence with both hands.
Love to you all.
Old Bird Travels Solo! 