66 Degrees North

66 Degrees north is what Iceland's latitude is on the globe, and there is an outdoor clothing line with that name. They certainly know cold here and how to dress for it. But I am pleased with all the merino wool from NZ I brought with me, and haven't had to invest in any of their non-merino, itchy variety. 

Today Wendy and I went whale watching just outside of Reykjavik. We didn't have to go too far before we came upon a bunch of minke whales, which we followed around for 2 hours. We bundled up in the provided red jumpsuits, which kept us toasty in the 40 degree weather ( at least it didn't rain). After the yellow rain suits of yesterday, the the red jumpsuits felt downright stylish. 

Minke whales come only in the summer, spending their summers in the balmy waters off West Africa. Unfortunately, some Icelanders started whaling a few years ago even though only about 5% of the population consumes whale meat. The rest is served to tourists. If the demand from tourists goes away, they won't be motivated to kill the whales. It's not a tradition or a traditional food in Iceland, like in some countries. So if you come to Iceland, don't eat whale meat! Go watch them in the wild, it's much more satisfying.

Of Horses and Women

Of Monsters and Men, the band that is all over the radio, is from Iceland. who knew??

But for us today it was about the Icelandic horses. The breed was originally brought with the Vikings from Norway around 870 A.D., and in the 10th century the country banned any further importation of horses, a ban that continues to this day. They don't vaccinate the horses, and the horses suffer from no diseases. They want to keep it that way. So much so that horses that leave Iceland for competitions cannot return.

The horses are on the small side, it not as small as ponies, and have a uniformly even temperament. The thing they are known for is their special gaits: the "flying gait" and the "tolt," a super smooth gait as fast a trot where only one hoof at a time leaves the ground. In the flying gait, all 4 hooves are off at once! The horses are not taught this, they just do it, and there are competitions just for these special gaits (some people breed Icelandic horses in other countries too). The tolt is so smooth you can carry a full glass of water ( or ale or champagne) without spilling a drop.

I loved the horses!

My horse, Gaurkur, kept nuzzling me while I tried to take photos. It was love at first sight!

Apparently there are also Icelandic sheepdogs to help with the herding - they look a lot like Shetland sheepdogs - but I haven't seen any yet. Sheep here outnumber people 4 to 1, so I suppose the people need all the help they can get! 

The Far Reaches

I landed to grey drizzle and chilly wind in Reykjavik, Iceland. The terrain felt oddly famliar, with touches of Patagonia and Alaska coming to mind...other places that have harsh climates and few people. I also felt a bit of New Zealand in the apparent love of corrugated tin as a building material. 

A forty minute bus ride from the airport took us over a crumbly black lava landscape, marked by patches of purple lupine flowers, with the icy blue-grey of the North Atlantic Ocean a constant presence on the left.

I hadn't had much sleep on the plane as it was only 6 hours and 50 minutes flying between Denver and Reykjavik. It was in the mid-nineties in Denver and the airline informed us that some of us would be missing our bags when we landed since they had to off load luggage due to the heat. No one knew if they were going to be one of the unlucky ones. Fortunately, my bag arrived with me, and I was able to tap into my cold weather gear (hat gloves, raincoat), since it is absolutely freezing here! Weather.com says 46 degrees but "feels like" 40. 

I ducked into the Phallogical Museum, which is conveniently right next to our hotel.  Lots of jars of formaldehyde with penises from every mammal in Iceland, including the whales (and one human). I didn't take any photos, being a bit queasy already from the travel, the sight of all the dead members just really put me off! I did snap this photo of the very phallic Hallgrimskirkja church, remarkable that it took more than 50 years to build as it was done by one man and his son. 

I'm now resting up and waiting for my friend Wendy to arrive from London. She should be fresh since its the same time zone and only a 3 hour flight.

To Market

Friday is one of the three market days in Fethiye, when farmers from the surrounding countryside (as far away as the Banana Coast) come to sell their wares. Heaps of greens, from nettles to bunches of arugula (25 cents each!), sit alongside 3 foot long leeks, sugar sweet seedless mandarins (50 cents a pound!), home cured olives and olive oil, raw milk, strawberries, kiwi fruit, quince, and an endless assortment of the freshest fruits and vegetables... it is a foodie's paradise.  Products are priced by the kilo, and the vendors don't seem to like dealing with less than 1/2 kilo, so it would be hard to shop for one person! After they weigh your selection using old fashioned iron counterweights, they usually throw in a couple extra pieces of what you just bought as a kind of bonus.

After the Friday market is a stop at the fish market, probably the best thing about Fethiye. Fresh locally caught fish, calamari and prawns from the Mediterranean and hamsi (anchovies) shipped from the Black Sea crowd for space in an open air square in the middle of town. If you want to eat your selection on the spot, any one of the restaurants around the square will cook it up per your specifications and serve it up with bread and salad for around $3 per person.

Clear weather after a week of rain

Tomorrow is Christmas and Helena is cooking dinner for 15 people - a collection of expats from various countries. Otherwise, I would probably just forget that it's Christmastime since it is all business-as-usual in this Muslim country.

Muzistan (Bananamur)

Anamur (which Helena termed Bananamur) is the banana capitol of Turkey and is filled with large greenhouses and fields of banana trees.  Bananas in Turkey??? Yes, I was surprised too. Yet I didn't take any photos of the many roadside muz (banana) stands, including the one calling itself Muzistan (meaning Banana Land). Sorry.

The Banana Coast - looking west

Actually, it looked like most of the southeast coast was planted with bananas.  But only Anamur had not one, but two banana themed statues in town (again, no photos!).

Ruined Large Bath House 

The real draw for the area is Anemurium - an ancient city now just stone ghosts, occupied by the Phoenecians starting in the 4th century B.C.  The ruins still there date from the late Roman and early Byzantine periods, and the general belief is that a massive earthquake in 580 A.D. ruined most of the buildings and drove people from the town.

The site is remarkable for its setting and its number of intact living structures. Helena and I spent a good deal of time wandering through, speculating on the  way people utilized the small domed stone structures (some of which still had visible frescoes on the walls and mosaics on the floors, although most have been moved to a museum in town). We even spotted a couple tortoises taking it easy and many different species of birds thriving in this peaceful ghost town.

Anemurium 2,000 year old houses

Looking east at Anemurium and beyond

Mamure Castle

After Anemurium we raced the incoming weather to visit Mamure Castle, just south of Anamur, and from a completely different time in history. It dates from the 13th century, built on the site of an old Roman fortress (it is common in Turkey to see the "repurposing" of old stone foundations). The castle was taken in the 14th century by the Seljuk Turks, who added a mosque and baths.

Although the castle has been renovated several times, it has retained its medieval feel - which sparked our imaginations with tales of guards and kings and escapes to the sea.

Tortoise friend at Anemurium

Running from the Rain

Inside our Pansiyon

Morning broke cloudy. More rain on the way. Helena and I decided to rent a car and head east for a few days, hoping to find promised warmer and drier weather (Fethiye is notoriously cold and damp in comparison to the rest of the southern coast).

Old Ottoman Era building

Morning in old Antalya

We made it to Antalya, at the center of Turkey's south coast before the early darkness of winter, and found a pansiyon in the kaleci (old town).

We were pleasantly surprised at the tidy cobble streets and restored Ottoman buildings, as our previous time in Antalya was only at the boat harbor outside of town.  The old town also held Roman ruins and later fortifications - all a continuous flow of history, punctuated by souvenir shops and shuttered-for-the-winter nightclubs.

Me at Hadrian's Gate

Goddess Athena

In the morning we walked around more of the old town before heading to the Antalya Museum, known for its collection of fine marble statues, as well as prehistoric artifacts from a nearby cave that is believed to have been continuously occupied for 20,000 years.

It was a lovely walk in the warm sun; we were basking in it! Unfortunately by the the time we left the museum the rain had caught up with us and we drove out of town in a downpour that instantly flooded the streets.

So we outran it. Straight east along the coast and after a short while it was again sunny and warm and now looking a lot like the coast of California. Citrus trees heavily laden everywhere (including orange trees in the traffic medians) have replaced the ubiquitous fruiting fig and pomegranate trees of September. But harvested pomegranates are still at full sweet and juice stalls are set up everywhere for a fresh squeeze.

Thunderclouds

Fresh snow on the local mountains

Friday brought the weekly local food market (a smaller version of Tuesday's with just food stalls), and torrential rain, thunder and lightning. Luckily we were able to do our shopping in relative dryness before the downpour started, at which point we retreated to a lokanta for some cheap eats and hot tea. e puzzled over one of our purchase (see photo), a local product only available in December. Thank god for Google, as we later were able to identify it as the fruit of the Japanese raisin tree - something I definitely have never seen before. And the funny looking fruit tastes like, you guessed it, raisins!

Saturday was dry so we met up with Jake and Lucia and Eldar and some of their American friends for a hike back to Kaya town - the abandoned village we visited the first day. The hike was the draw, as we ascended steeply through damp and fragrant pine forests, to meet up with an old Roman road linking Fethiye and Kaya, complete with ruined stone cisterns spaced periodically along the way.  By the time we arrived we were all starving and descended on one of the few open cafes in search of goezleme (Turkish kind of quesadilla) and many glasses of tea. Luckily there is a dolmus (mini-bus) linking the towns too, since we were pretty knackered from the 4 hour hike.