Our marble-ous itinerary took us to three Roman amphitheaters in Pamukkale, Aspendos, and Aphrodesias, one more colossal than the other. Aspendos is the star of the show and still hosts concerts and opera festivals. That’s a 2,000-year run. Pamukkale wins for Instagram moments with whitewashed travertine pools. Aphrodisias, dedicated to Aphrodite, the goddess of love, is, well, stimulating and has the original FaceBlock.
An ancient belief that an envious glance can bring bad luck explains the evil eye amulet tradition in Turkey and Greece still popular today. The blue glass eyes are hung outside homes and shops, in cars, and in our tour bus for protection and to ward off any evil eyes directed at us. The charm stares back at envy to say “I see you.”
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Devotees of the poet Rumi founded the Mevlevi Order and the whirling dervish ceremony after his death. We visited Rumi’s shrine in Konya and a few days later came full circle and watched the meditation and prayer (a shortened version for tourists who are whirling dervishes themselves). In the ceremony, the right hand points up to receive blessings from heaven, and the left points down to pass them to earth. The tall hats symbolize tombstones, the white skirts a burial shroud, and the black cloaks the grave. They shed the cloak to symbolize rebirth. The spinning represents the planets orbiting the sun and the soul revolving toward God. It’s all a bit dizzying. They plant one foot and the other orbits at a dizzying speed. Their skirts form peaks and their tilted heads (how do the hats stay on?) have a calm focus. The ceremony ends with a call for peace and a cooling sip of “rose sherbet” made with rose petals and lemon juice. They learn using a tilting board with a pin that goes between the big toe and second toe.
One special aspect of a Rick Steves tour is the opportunity to meet locals in their homes or work places. We had lunch with Fahria who made us tomato salad, stewed white beans, and rice. She’s lived in the village her whole life and wove the rug we sat on. Another local served us tea in his fairy chimney house. Later we had a long conversation with the imam from a mosque in a small town. He handles the call to prayer five times a day, the Friday service, caring for those in need, and washing the bodies of the dead before they are buried. While we still stroll around as a fanny pack of American tourists, we’ve fostered a few cultural connections. At a small village farmer’s market we bought figs, dates, and salwar baggy pants. The drop-crotch pants, voluminous through the thighs and butt, are traditional garments perfect for agricultural work. We saw farmers wearing them in the market and women gardening in them. Fun fact: Apparently around 1850 Amelia Bloomer adopted the Turkish style as a political statement against corsets. Bloomers bloomed. We can all thank the Turks!
What a Turkish delight to arrive at the Mediterranean coastal town of Antalya. We walked from our hotel through Hadrian’s Gate (circa 130 AD), dedicated to the Roman Emperor Hadrian, where horse carriage ruts are worn into the marble. The gate was later incorporated into the walls of the city and is still used as the gate to the historic old town. The lively harbor was a natural safe haven for Greek and Romans, as well as pirates, and the modern pirates (cruise operators) try to outdo each other with pirate-themed designs. We were treated to a private boat that took us for a cruise along the limestone cliffs and walked the plank for a swim in the turquoise Mediterranean Sea (78 degree water). Fun fact: the word turquoise comes from an old French word meaning “Turkish stone.” Though not mined in Turkey, the stone came to Europe via Turkish trade routes so was associated with Turkey.
Turkish ice cream, made with goat milk and salep (wild orchid root flour), has a thick, stretchy, almost chewy texture that makes it resistant to melting and, it turns out, perfect for performance art. In the early days, turning a cone upside down over a customer’s head was a dramatic way to prove it was authentic. Now they churn up a crowd by teasing us with cone-fusing tactics when we most need an ice cream cone. The con(e)-men hand you a scoop in a cone that is nested in another cone. When you go to grab it you are left with an empty cone. Or they will flip a cone upside down out of your reach. It all feels like a whack-a-cone experience.
As a bridge between Europe and Asia on the Silk Road, Turkey’s textiles earned fame for global trading and the tradition continues. We stopped in at a multi-family, multi-generational carpet weaving museum/sales room where thousands of rugs were rolled, piled, and hung in a labyrinth of showrooms. After dosing us with Raki (fire water ouzo) and Turkish coffee, they showed that they had mastered not only the art of the loom but the art of the deal. A bevy of twirling dervish salesmen unfurled rug after rug, one on top of another. Carpet bombed! The silk rugs truly seemed like magic carpets — a light blue design transformed into a dark blue when shaken. Many of our group left with beautiful purchases and threadbare wallets. We didn’t surrender but were floored by the experience.
