Road Trip(s) and Food

We have traveled quite a bit recently. To Bodrum for our friends’ (from San Diego) Turkish wedding reception. Then another week we drove to Bulent’s grandmothers in Seferhisar and on the way we visited Bodrum, Kusadasi, Izmir and Cesme. Bodrum is an adorable Aegean town/city. It is very developed and has a very busy party scene. It has a lovely marina that runs the length of the main tourist drag, as well as a historical castle right on the sea and a renowned underwater archeology museum.

While we were there we had some Lokma, which is cousin to If Jesus was a Baker. Sweet dough, deep fried then soaked in a sugar syrup. While you eat them, you can actually feel your fat cells expanding. But very delicious.

Once we got to Seferhisar our days consisted of visiting with family, eating, swimming and preparing to eat. Uncle Shadi grilled every night, there were koftes, and veggies and lamb chops and chicken.

Anything that didn’t move fast enough was grilled. It was tasty. Here you can see koftes, corban salad, bulgur pilaf, and grilled tomatoes and peppers. That was my plate, I was excited to eat. Don’t I look happy!

Also naked! I would like to state I was not eating dinner topless with Bulent’s grandmother. Though it may appear as so.

Though in other news I over came my shyness enough to tan topless in the yard. Where people saw me. Yay!

I Would Prefer to Drown, Please.

We visited Bulent’s grandmother in the small sitesi (housing development) near Sefirhisar. It was beautiful, craggy rocks and cliffs and turquoise waters. The Aegean was much colder than the Mediterranean, but was incredibly fun to swim in because the water was so clear and clean. You could actually see the bottom 30 feet down and make out the features of the sea floor. Everyone there swims. Many people take a dip before breakfast and then later go back to sun bathe. Well, the 2nd day we were there, we decided to go long distance swimming. Bulent used to swim to nearby islands as a kid, and it is still a popular pastime for the teens. I was a little hesitant, I can swim but was always a close to shore kind of kid. So as we were heading out, Bulet’s aunt decided to join us. We managed to get out to the island, but to get there you had to swim past the jetty that protects the bay, so the water was a little rougher. By the time we got to the island Bulent’s aunt was too tired and scared to try to swim all the way back, instead she wanted to swim to the other side of the bay, which was closer, and walk back. However, nobody swims there and we were not sure about rocks or Moray eels. Bulent’s 12 year old cousin was already at the island, so he said he would swim ahead to check for sea urchins and hidden rocks. So we manage to get almost all the way into the bay when there is a conference between Bulent, his aunt and his cousin. In Turkish. So I think, SHIT this can’t be good. And it wasn’t. The side of the bay were were swimming into was uninhabited, so the water was in its natural state. To get to shore we were going to have to swim though a big patch of seaweed. I said forget it, your aunt can’t swim back, but I will. Meet you at the other side of the bay. However, Bulent did not want me to swim a mile back by myself and could not leave his aunt, she needed help. So I started swimming. If I had to do it again and it was a 10 mile swim back, I would have done it, over swimming through that seaweed. Shit, I almost bit it, huge gulps of seawater down my throat, Bulent pushing me from behind. Only later did I discover that the conference had been about whether in swimming through the seaweed would we disturb the SEASNAKES that live there. After we made it through the gauntlet of seaweed and sea snakes we walked the mile back to the sitesi on the hot asphalt road, barefoot. If something like that ever happens again, I will let Bulent swim to shore, get a boat and come back for me. Not because I am a primadonna, but because I prefer certain death that swimming through slippery, grasping seaweed inhabited by sea snakes.

It was gorgeous though!

Oh the Figs

It is the season of the fig, and there are fig trees all around. I grew up in New Hampshire, where figs were flown into the grocery store and sold at exorbitant prices, and were at least a week old. Here I can pick a fig off the tree and it is glorious.

I have been simultaneously trying to eat as many and few figs as possible. For this to make sense you need to know two things.

1. I love figs, tremendously.

2. Figs are natural laxatives.

Enough said.

So up in Seferhisar, the fig tree was in the neighbors yard. We still had full access to the tree, because Bulet’s uncle is married to the neighbors daughter. When it was found out how much I loved figs, I was inundated. Every morning they would pick fresh figs for me. They sent Bulent’s 12 year old cousin up into the tree to pick the best ripe ones they couldn’t get from the ground. Several times Uncle Hadi would run over with a fig in hand, saying here—this is for you, a perfect fig!! And they were. The thing about figs is that when they are ripe they are soft. The softer they are the sweeter and juicer they are, however, there is a thin line between the perfect fig, and a soured one. Right before they go bad, they are perfectly ripe. So they would run over with the perfect fig and hand it over for immediate consumption, sweet and warm from the sun. We left for Marmaris yesterday, and with us they send back several pounds of figs, in different stages of ripeness—so that I could triage.

And so I am eating figs. Many figs. But only when we do not have plans far from the house. Just in case.

I’m BACK!

I now have a laptop, and it is lovely! To be able to use it in the comfort of my own home, without being sandwiched between adolescent boys playing war games is wonderful. Not having to remember to stuff toilet paper in my purse in case there is none in the internet cafe is a privilege I won’t soon forget. Since I last posted lots has happened, including our inaugural BBQ, two trips to Bodrum and a visit to Cesme and Seferihisar. We have been in Seferihisar for about a week, at Bulent’s grandmother’s summer house. Photos are forthcoming. It really is a beautiful place. It is right on the sea, a community in the middle of no-where. It was formed as a Co-op about 30 years ago, and everyone has been here since. It is a place where grandparents, adult children and grandchildren all hang out together and visit each other.

The hills surrounding it are empty of development and thyme grows wild. When you walk here the constant winds actually carry the smell of thyme. It is delicious. It is hot and dry here which is great, and also terrible. Last night there was a wild fire, right across the highway from our community. We could see the flames and smell the thyme burning. Thankfully they were able to control the fire. Today we drove by and you can see how close the fire came through through the blackened landscape. And God help me, my first thought was—If we have to evacuate I am taking my damn laptop.