Reflections; Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda

Reflections;

Trip length of 12 weeks was about right for our joint interests and 'travel fatique' limits.  Both of us were less energetic to explore during the last few weeks - enjoying later starts to the day and more evenings back in the hotel room with Internet and a glass of wine.

That's one person's opinion.  Personally I felt that 12 weeks was too long as the 'travel fatigue' for me was more intense.  Also, by the time we got to Turkey, I barely remembered where we had been the month before.  Of course, all that has sorted itself out now that we are home and have been able to view the photos. (Miriam)

That said, it was nice to be 'on the road' long enough that it became our routine.  To go through the first day or two of strangeness and confusing in each community until a metro station or a restaurant became a landmark.  'Oh, we've been here before..., we just need to bear to the left / right / go back and we'll find...,'.  By day three or four we are pros, at least knowing a couple of blocks around our residence, major destinations and the basics of the public transit.  (Keep the map in the pocket.).  
We started to 'free-range', often not spot-on for the day of the week since all days were the same travel / tourist agenda for us.  'Museum closed because it is Monday - Who knew it was Monday?'

We stayed four days/five nights in most places, which gave us just enough time to figure out the basics of getting around before we headed off to someplace new.

Our focusing on European capitals has left us a bit starved for the 'bush' and natural world.  Prague's Petrin Hills or Brasov's Tampa Hill were memorable exceptions with other large urban parks also fun.  A couple of weeks back home will set us right - snowshoeing anyone?  Our time in Turkey also included some smaller towns and the amazing landscape in Cappadocia, so we did get out of the urban sprawl for a bit.

The weather - now there is a topic.  Fall across northern Europe features roiling weather systems from the North Sea.  Our umbrellas got so much exercise in the first half of the trip that mine has become sad with two broken ribs and a miscellaneous dangling bit.  That said, there was also the sun which returned at least once in every city.


I had been hoping for Thunder Bay September weather - bright, warm days and cool nights - and packed appropriately with capri pants and light cardigans.  Fortunately I bought a set of neoprene long underwear in Toronto before we headed across the pond.  The cold damp of England and northern Germany was a bit of shock to someone coming from a continental climate.  For dress-up I wore the long johns underneath a summer dress with a sweater to hide everything.

Travel Must Haves;
BlackBerry PlayBook bought at an excellent sale price one week before leaving.  This small tablet transformed our trip.  The Internet connectivity changed our travel planning, enabling hotel / hostel and airline reservations in 'just-in-time' mode.  Accessibility to email, Facebook and generalized Web browsing was a valuable bonus and needed diversion.  Wikipedia informed on local sights while Google Maps located train and bus stations.  What's not to love.
The tablet also has quite a good camera, which meant we could post a few photos in real time.  And since Simon is naturally an early riser, he would start on the blog post while I was still sleeping.  It worked best if I loaded the photos the night before.

Clothing:
Of course we took too much, dispute our prior experience.  Mailing seven pounds home after three weeks helped.  Our one backpack and medium-sized rolling suitcase held ~ 30 kilos of our pocessions.  Travel books were a significant weight between one major 1400 page Lonely Planet - Europe, a fat county-wide Turkey and various individual city guides.  (Just weighted most of the travel books = 2.6 kilos!!  Doesn't include our ration of two / three pleasure books.  No wonder I grunted throwing the packsack up to my shoulders.) 
I threatened to rip country sections out after we visited but never acted on that thought.  Due to our multiple destinations I'm not sure quite how to work around in a similar future trip.  Toilet and medical supplies were also excessive and not well sorted.  Five large zip-lock bags are not a system.  I always feel more comfortable when I carry my own pharmacy with me.  You never know...

A small, multi-pocket day-pack, designed for lugging laptops, worked well for sundries, important papers and accessing pleasure books during train and bus trips.  A second, even smaller shoulder bag was useful for day-trips; holding umbrellas, water, snacks, maps and extra clothing.

A must-have for every future trip was Miriam's little zippered pocket bag that unfolded into a decent cloth sack for market purchases or carrying an evenings refreshment.  Don't leave home without one.

Health:
We wuz lucky and cautious.  Miriam picked up a dry hacking cough for the first week and a half in England.  Perhaps a gift from one of the several hundred passengers we shared the plane flight with.

Jet lag is real and not being overly ambitious for the first two or three days of your trip is essential.

I inadvertently tripped Miriam in the central square in Bruges - night time, not good light and cobblestones.  Nasty tumble with her left, ringfinger taking the force of the fall.  Purple and swollen.  Still uncomfortable for her and will require follow-up.  For me, the dental temporary patch to seal-off the disintegrated capped tooth has held.  Follow-up required.
Everything else more or less normal.  (Bed bug bites take a good week & a half plus to settle down.)

We both consciously took extra time on stairs, using hand-rails.  There are a heck-of-lot of narrow, hazardous stairs with nonstandard risers and cupped, slippery surfaces.  Then add the multiple heights across cobblestones, miscellaneous public works removing sidewalks or just digging an obstacle course of ankle-breaking holes.  Many almost 'oops' but, fortunately, no crashes.  Let the locals scamper.

Travel rule #1 - Never pass a toilet, WC, bay/bayan or Mens/Women's with out stopping.  You never know how far the next one might be.  Also wash your hands like SARs is in the neighbourhood.  Seriously, this simple precaution will really make a difference in not picking up nasty infections.
(And always have loose change in the local coinage.  Many have attendants without major change.)

The best thing we brought with us was the String Trick.  The trick was taught to us 30 plus years ago by a Bhuddist monk in Thailand.  He had numerous tricks to keep the children attentive while he taught them the scriptures.  And because Thai monks are not allowed to touch women, I had to learn it by watching him do it with Simon and then practicing for hours on a beer bottle back in our room.
I must admit that I was sceptical at first.  I know Simon has been doing the trick frequently in the past few years, but I didn't really see its value until this trip.  Once I got less shy, I really enjoyed sharing it.  And the reaction was amazing.  People would insist that we show their friends; kids would whip out their cell phones and take a video.  We made people laugh, got high fives, and even hugs.  Such a simple thing, but when you don't share a language, so valuable.
We taught the trick to several people - a teacher from California, an eight-year-old boy on a Romanian train, a Turkish tourist operator, two young women from the Phillipines who were childhood friends and reconnected in Anatolia.  And them we left them with their own string, so they could continue to share.

And the paper mouse.  A follow-on from raising our daughter, I can make a paper mouse.  Low-end origami, any piece of paper from museum ticket, half a tourist brochure to sectioning a restaurant place mat - once there are children in the neigbourhood fingers get busy to present with a funny loooking 'mouse'.   Can also be presented to pretty waitresses, restaurant owners and dignified mature women.

So, all in all, although there are things I would have done differently, the trip was an amazing experience.  My list of places I must go back to has certainly expanded and now includes Turkey, Prague, Amsterdam and Budapest.  I only regret that we can't have our family and friends along for the ride.  It has been great to be able to share a smalll part of this experience with you.

Istanbul Topkapi Palace

Welcome to Topkapi Place, Imperial home of the Ottoman Sultans for five hundred years.

Starting in the mid-1300s the prime real estate in Constaninople, sorry - now called Istanbul - conquest you know, was reserved for the Sultans.  Over looking the confluence of the Golden Horn, Bosphorus and the Sea of Marmara this place has great views.  Put a giant honking wall around it and it's yours.

This is just one of numerous pavilions - covered in Iznik tiles and mother-of-pearl wood work - that dot the gardens and lawns of Topkapi.  Here, in this building, the affairs of state were discussed while the Sultan sat behind a metal grill, watching.  (Or was he watching, perhaps the pleasures of the Harem with the four official wives plus the concubines might rearrange his schedule.)

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Here is part of the Sultan's private bed room.  We can not adequately describe the marvellous variety of tile designs that blanket the walls.  Let's just say we must have ~ thirty-five photos of separate patterns and we chose only a sample.

Little wall alcove for your cup of pomegranate juice.

Here is the wonderful view from the back gardens Topkapi.  No single photo can do justice to the sweep of water and the bustle of boats. We counted 21 in motion and more stationary.

Our breakfast view.  Packsack in the shade / tower in the sun.

Eggs for the early morning omlette on the sidewalk as we are leaving town.   Golden omelette  and good capaccinio.  Next stop down the hill, the crowded tram for 15 stops then the metro for another four stops.  Tiny bit loaded down.  Airport and beginning steps towards home.

Istanbul, revisited

Back in this wonderful town.  First thing - visit an other Imperial Mosque, Suleymanlye, also designed by Mamar Sinan of Blue Mosque fame.  This one also atop one of Istanbul's seven hills with a commanding presence over the Golden Horn.

The walk to the mosque fit in all the distinctive features of our hotel location back next to Galata Tower.  First the steep down-hill streets with their mix of shops - admiring some simple handmade pen knives on the way.  Cross a major intersection where I try to decide in our street-crossing tactics if we are still running like scared rabbits or merely scampering purposely?  Either way we don't lag but keep up with the locals.  An underground walkway helps.  Curiously the majority of formal shops offer cellphones or lawn care products.  We have seen very few lawns.  Then Galata Bridge with the early morning fishermen already filling buckets with silvery suppers.  Ferry horns.  Reach the bridge end and the smells of fresh fried fish sandwiches as you pass the small wharf-side floating kitchens.  (One of the best for meal bargains - 5 lira for a fat sandwich plus a pickle.).  Now a pedestrian underground walkway that has become a market tunnel of sound  and sales.  How many pairs of socks or flying bird toys does a person need?  Pop-up in next to the New Mosque, circle to the right, past the Spice Bazaar and start going uphill.  More shops and more sights..., 

This building has a good feeling about it.  Proportion, strength and lots of light.  Quite a different treatment of the four main columns compared the Blue Mosque.   Sharp angles that carry the line of the overhead arches down to the floor.

Another genuine discovery.  Took a new route downhill and found a hard-scrapple working class neighbourhood of the traditional three story wooden houses in serious disrepair.  One block over a street had been transformed by investment.  Photos out the window of a new, small cafe with big windows over looking the Golden Horn / Galata Bridge scene.  Cue the ferries.

One barley corn to the right of the Galata Tower is our hotel.  Miriam scored a good deal, checking booking sites two weeks ago at 3:00 am. Couldn't sleep.  For the same price as our hostel, (50% off), we in a fancy-dancy hotel room.  Gentle readers, we were ready for an upgrade.  At the hostel there were more life forms in our beds than just us!  Enough said.

We are only three 'blocks' away but the distance up hill and around the Tower is amazing.  This street is in the midst of gentrification big-time.  Our small hotel is either new or totally upgraded.  The corner store across the street - high end women's dresses - was being used as a location for a Turkish TV series. Lots of earnest young men and women dressed in black while the queen was surrounded by her attendants. Surprise, early next morning the entire shop, clothes, decor and floor had been gutted.  Poof - gone.  Workmen were spreading mortar to create a new floor.

Meanwhile, back at the Spice Bazaar, it is time to pick up some essential oil and vacuum-packed fruit teas; lemon, apple and pomegranate.  We will have a second carry on for the journey home.

Konya

Three hour bus ride southwest across the Anatolian Plain took us to Konya.  The flat landscape was virtually treeless, fitting a semi-arid plateau.  In one small village we passed through the tractor dealership was as large as the car dealer.  This area is called the 'Bread Basket of Turkey'.

Konya is another large city ~ one million.  (Ten years ago it was 400,000!  Turkey - urban is mushrooming with growth.)  The bus station on the outskirts has been sized for the growing town and is quite fancy.  A covered marble walkway lead us to the tram station downtown.  Crowded.

Here was another time where the essential friendliness of the ordinary Turkish citizen came through.  Young Turks offer their train/bus & tram seats to older Turks.  Also to Miriam and, occasionally, myself as the white-bearded old fart.  A young lady took our suitcase in front of her knee, while a second offered Miriam a seat.  Thanks & Thanks.  They also directed us to the correct stop 'en francais', our shared language.

Apparently Konya is in the Turkish equivalent of the 'Bible Belt'.  Don't know enough to say - except all the restaurants we used over three days did not have beer or wine.  There was also none of the little hole-in-wall shops we have found elsewhere with the necessities in the cooler.  Just saying.

Konya has the burial shrine / museum of Rumi - Mevlana, notable 13th century religious mystic, poet and founder of the Dervish Orders.  The fluted, turquoise tile tower over his tomb is unique.  There are large numbers of Turks who visit as a religious pilgrimage.  The first ten Sufi leaders and the Mevlana's family are also buried inside. Atop each tomb, row on row, the size, colour and number of wrappings on the turban denote the amount of religious grace.

Our hotel is a recently renovated 150 year old Ottoman house.  Only eight rooms in a two story, nicely proportioned residence, lots of large wood framed windows, wood ceilings and floors - shoes left at the front door.  Our standard Turkish breakfast offers one egg, different breads, cheeses, olives, cucumber, tomatoes with fruit, juice (sometimes Tang!), yoghurt and cereal served in the basement.  Happy surprise -  Honey in honeycomb chunks rather than commercial packages.  Our neighbourhood is the old centre so there are many similar houses, just missing the new paint.

This peacock was on the wall of the worst dining experience so far.  Food choices were mixed.  Delicious tiny meat/mint grape leave rolls with yoghurt - other dishes, not so much.  It was the 35 + young school boys who were very excited about their outing.  Think EXCITED.  Then, to compete, the staff turned up the background sound of dervish pipes SO loud that one could fear damage.  We ate quickly and fled.

These pictures are part of the excavation of Catalhoyuk, your basic dawn-of-urban-living neolithic site.  The ancient, 7,400 to 6,000 BCE mound housed up to 8,000 people.  The flat roofed, mudbrick houses were entered by a ladder through the roof.  No 'roads', people traveled over the roof tops.  Perhaps 18 layers of houses as new structures were built on the old.  Interiors with white stucco and paintings, both representational and geometric patterns, similar to weaving.  There were no chimneys or windows so dark and smoky.  Cooking in clay pots by first heating baked clay balls and plunging them in.  Some houses have been found to have 120 layers of white wash - spring cleaning chore?

The going archeology has documented the introduction of pottery within the first 400 years.  Later levels added yoghurt and domestication of cattle.  Folks were running around wearing leopard skins around their waists or at least that is what the paintings show.  Weaving and with no defenses or mass burn traces presumably no war.  A little hunting and gathering / a little farming.  Fish in the marsh next door.  People lived into their fifties, then, after 1400 years everyone went away.

In the distance there are two other massive mounds, both unexplored although indications are they reflect even earlier settlements.  The many steps of the human journey.

Here is a clear night picture of Mevlana's tower.  Dramatic or what.  Taken while walking home from a Saturday evening's Sema - performance of Dervish dancing.  (Actually a structured religious event with special prayers and music to match each step.  The 'whirling' is only a part of the whole.)  The Mevlana's Cultural Centre is a modern auditorium with both interior and exterior circular amptheatres. Each can hold ~ 2800 people.  Two thirds full as many local people as well as Turkish pilgrims out numbered the tourists.  Free.

No pictures allowed but the flashes from cameras and cell photos from the locals were continuous.  So we joined in.

Cappadocia 2

A day of exploring via a hired driver and a list of potential sights.  The good news, thanks to our speedy driver we did the whole list.  The bad news - we did the whole list.  Tired bunnies.  (No sympathy necessary Gentle Readers, check the last photo.  Both of us have a glass of excellent local Cappadocia white in a big mug.)

 Quick note on the quality of the light in the photos.  No - not dark, rather misty or haze which has lasted all day on the valleys for all the time we have been here.  Climb up to the plateau top and sunshine.  Down the switch-backs and back to obscure.  Fortunately the human eye picks out the details that a mere machine cannot.

Here is a an example of how the front of the house will be blocks of masonry or tuff while the back of the structure is borrowed deep into the soft rock.   The span of years and the magic of erosion eat away so every community has gaping open ex-houses on the chimneys with only the back wall and a trace of roof remaining.  Floors and a family's hopes gone.

Then there is the Road Side Attraction where the hard cap rock and soft tuff yield extravagant shapes. You could blow away your memory chip in a fifteen minutes stroll.   What shape do these rock structures suggest?   Gosh - No you are wrong, these are not an assortment of phallic columns, rather they remind me of 'stinkhorn' mushrooms.  Check Wikipedia.

Stop the tourist bus, I think I see a camel.  (Oh, and they do.).  Yet none of these multitudes dare step off the designated 'photo op' flat space across from the bus.  Not your intrepid correspondents.  Why we even have a picture of the Camel from the opposite side.

Here is the funkiest campsite we have ever seen. Tucked up at the end of a box canyon is all the primitive supports for a 30 years ago Miriam & Simon.  Today - not so much.

The wine shop,mentioned earlier.  The white will not survive the night while the red we'll carry on the bus to Konya.

Our driver today was very safe, using the travel definition.  Yes, 120 km in a 50 marked road.  Who doesn't exceed the posted limit?  Important are the details - slowing down for steep corners, switchbacks, sheep and sheperds.  Check & check.  

 Choosing to ignore the occasional Stop sign.  Okay - 2:00 am who hasn't.  The soft plink of seat belt minder for two minutes every time we climbed into the car.  We were buckled in.

Magic moments: String Trick #10

We prepared 12 loops of colourful string to pass-on to folks after we had taught them our string trick which dates from our Big Trip of thirty years ago and a young monk in Chiang Mai.  So far we have taught nine other people.

There is delightful restaurant, family operated, that prepares traditional Anatolian dishes.  After being fed twice we bad to return to teach the family that magic.  Sat around the table, crunching on pumpkin seeds and drinking their home-made wine for the training session.  Does not get any better!

The fall evening air in Goreme has a characteristic bite.  Think wood smoke or perhaps charcoal.  Yes, the majority of older houses, cave or block, are burning it.  Thanks to the heavy haze the fumes are at nose level.  Many houses and hotels have a stash of large blue bags of charcoal tucked around the corner.

Cappadocia

A day of travel; train, plane and 4:30 sun-down, dark mini-bus ride took us to Goreme in the middle of Cappadocia.  This region has a fairy chimney landscape as the soft volcanic tuff is eroded.  For more than 2000 years local folks have carved out their stables, pigeon coops, homes and churches into the hillsides.  Early Christians buried entire multi-level cities, the better to be obscure during 400's CE.

A day of travel meant a day without good nourishment.  One of the nicest restaurants in town just further up the hill from our cave hotel.  Two appetizers; dry mix of five types of nuts with olive oil for the bread while the chili/walnut/garlic 'pesto' was a bite on the wild side.  Move on to fabulous lamb and chicken to make the journey fall away.  Perhaps the Emir Cappadocian white assisted. 

One kilometer walk to the 'Open Air Museum',  a complex of 11th century small churches and religious community living quarters, connected by paved paths and stairs - lots of stairs.  The first two pics are of a weirdly decorated tree seen on the way.   A multitude of blue eye charms making a virtual Tree of Protection.

Alas no photos allowed in the most decorated / most interesting cave churches.  A recent restoration of the 'Dark Church', enhanced by the audio guide, walked us through the Christian legends of Jesus's life, accompanied by a host of Byzantine Saints and rulers.

 A Goreme pancake - double sided flat bread with spinach and cheese filling prepared on a large round grill, took the chill out of the misty day.

Another local specialty for supper, 'testi kebap', meat and vegetables baked in an individual clay pot which you break with a small hammer at the table.  Theatre of Food or what!

Next morning ready for a 5:30 am knock at the door for the Balloon Ride.  (Don't wait on the street as another balloon company may scoop you!).  The weather was as the weather is.  Fall eh - with a low ceiling and a bit of haze.  Fourteen folks in our woven basket as we joined ~ 45 balloons across the take-off area slowly inflating.  First time for us both to try a hot-air balloon.  It is really fun - serious fun.

Blasts of flame, warm on your neck as you look out and a roaring in your ears - then silence and a gentle sensation of elevation.  Squirts of fuel enable quite precise vertical distance among the balloon herd.  Occasional close encounters - although our pilot avoided the 'kiss' of balloon shrouds that we saw around us.  Maximum height ~ 500 meters which put us into the cloudy haze.  No other balloon visible but we could hear the burping roar of near-by engines.  Then the voice on the two-way radio, "Do not ascend - I'm right above you!"

Landing after an hour was a bit of a scramble for our chase crew.  Gently down on a farmer's plowed field - missing the field of grape vines.  Lift-off again to get to the field edge with six men at the end of a rope.  Splash of champagne and back to the hotel by 8:30.  Fab.

Shots of this amazing landscape created by a long-ago volcano. 

Tomorrow a bus ride around the area.

Selcuk, Turkey

We buy a kilim!

We had been very cautious when passing carpet shops in the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul to not show too much interest as we passed fabulous carpets of every design and colour.  Earnest salesmen would invite  us in and the exchange of pleasantries could become a trifle forced with an expectation of a sale.  However, we did have our hearts beat faster by one living room sized red carpet that had regular rows of small kilim-flat weave & embroidered traditional patterns.  Alas, both too large for our house and we would have had to indenture our first-born to pay for it.

That said, our hotel in Selcuk has a knowledgeable, no pressure owner with several excellent examples of kilims on the walls and table tops.  Just happens to have carpet and kilim for sale in a back room.  Pleasant hour of learning of carpet making and regions - all with examples.  Below the new addition to our kitchen.  From a village close to Mount Aratrat in eastern Turkey, the traditional designs feature a host of animals from the Ark.  There is a built in flaw in the pattern because perfection is reserved for god.  Natural dyes, the green from pistachios and the reds from pomegranates.

Quite a surprise first thing Saturday morning, the market had extended from small square next to the hotel and now wrapped around all surrounding streets.  Some booths with clothes but the absolute majority were fresh fruits and vegetable stalls of the highest quality.  From the photo - never eat a cabbage bigger than your head!   Just one stall had 21 different types of fruit and I didn't count the vegetable offerings.

Up the street and on a bit is the train station and the square with the ancient aqueduct columns.  Who shows up but two guys with their 'wrestling camels'.  Local sport for two months in the winter is watching male camels fight.  Perhaps camels only get horny once a year?

Sun is down as I tap away from my vantage point on the second floor balcony.  Market stalls are packing up and the extensive sun screen panels are systematically released andfolded up.  Background ping of steel supports competes with the bird sounds.

Aah..., the birds.  Gentle Readers, the resident Jackdaw population is a signature feature of central Selcuk.  These just-smaller-than a crow wheel and swoop over the town in various sized flocks.  Early and late is the congregation stage.  Mid-day most are foraging across the town. Evening they come into their own.  A shared signal animates all to take flight and 500 plus swirl around the mosque, across to the trees in the square and seconds later back into the air,, all the while carrying on their group conversation.  Quite distinctive.  Quite fun.

  

The market is half disassembled now.  Small trucks are beeping their way down the aisles to complete the heavy lifting.  Birds are in the trees and only occasionally commenting on the activity.  I'm off the balcony for a glass of wine and soon out-and-about for supper.

Tomorrow a travel day.  Local train stops at Izmar's airport.  A plane and a three hour bus should get us to Goreme and the fairy chimney houses of Cappadocia.

Ephesus

An hours minibus ride south from Izmir brings you to Selcuk, a prosperous farming and tourist town.  (Izmir's otogar - bus station is too huge!  Two stories with 150 bays around the circumference.  It even boasts a swimming pool in the centre. Curiously,no one in the water.)  Landscape of prominent hills, often forested with small trees both deciduous and coniferous.  Extensive agriculture across the flat valley floor - oranges, figs, grapes and tobacco.

Here is the reason people visit Selcuk.  Ephesus, once a major city in the eastern Mediterranean, it's thousand year history flourished and ebbed through Hellenic, Roman and Byzantine eras.  Population estimates at its peak range from 250,000 to 400,000.

The first photo is of the Library of Celsus.  There were 12,000 scrolls inside making this site the third largest library in the ancient world.  What could bring down such a rich metropolis?  Cue the occasional earthquake and periodic invasions with new masters to pay taxes to.  More importantly to the decline was the silting up of the harbour.  Although dredged repeatedly Mother Nature won out and the sea port became swamp and eventually dry land.

 There has been a 150 years of excavation and only the central core has been exposed.  What a wonderful day we had to wander down the two central streets, guide book in hand and cameras posed.

Civic notables would construct fountains or finance a temple and dedicate it to the reigning emperor or perhaps the local deity.  Speaking of gods & goddess the city's patron was Artemis / Diana with a twist.  An earlier history of  'Earth Mother' beliefs were fused with Artemis so her statues show her chest covered with rows of multiple pendulous breasts.  A startling sight.

This the view down the upper main avenue towards 'down town'.  The brothel was located across the street from the library.

 I visited Ephesus forty years ago during a solo backpacking tour of Europe.  Splendid to be able to share this experience with Miriam.  One of the new features of the site - the Houses of the Terrace.  Six large houses that climb up the slope to the left in the picture above have been recently excavated and covered with a translucent roof.  Fancy stainless steel and glass-floored walkways take you though the interlinked structures, over mosaic floors and past painted walls.  These homes were an apartment complex rented out to rich folks.  Thanks to a second century CE earthquake there is a vivid window on the past.

Check your shoes, here is Nike - complete with her swoosh!

 This is the small, second amptheatre used for civic meetings and other public affairs.  It holds 1400.

Here is the larger amphitheatre with room for 24,000.  A three level stage in front had room for the actors, the chorus and the orchestra. Everything up-to-date in this port town.  The marble road in the distance led to the harbour.  Notice you do not see the sea.  Bummer when your harbour silts up.

In ancient times this avenue was lined with shops.  The commercial agora was around to the left while to the right was a large gymnasium.

Many of the artifacts from the site are housed at the Archeology Museum in Selcuk, which unfortunately closed for renovations the day before we arrived.  Piffle!