The Kurdish guy on the top bunk probably started his phone call around 8 a.m. His voice was loud. Even through earphones his deep voice filled the room. I went back to sleep. The next time I woke up it was past noon.
I had an early flight yesterday. Sleeping like I was making up for lost sleep wasn’t bad. Today is a day to walk around Antalya.
As I grabbed my laptop to leave the hostel, a Brazilian girl came into the room. She asked, "Where are you from?" I thought she was Colombian and was ready to use the Spanish I learned last night, but she was Brazilian. Right after that the Russian next door came in, and starting from "How are you?" a conversation got going and I couldn’t break away for a while. Dorm life. Not bad, but hard to manage your time.
Old Town (Kaleiçi) and döner kebab
First, food. I walked to a döner kebab place I found on Google Maps.
There were few customers; it was a quiet place. The food was simply tasty. And here too I ordered ayran. I feel like I order it every time I come to Turkey. I used to dislike it. Now I’ve really grown to like it. Taste buds change, huh.
With my stomach full, I headed to the Old Town (Kaleiçi).
On the cobbled lanes, carpet shops, trinket stores, and cafes line up. There are many tourists, but locals mix in too. It’s similar to the old town in Azerbaijan, but this one is more colorful and open. 24 degrees. The sun is strong.
Haggling with the old man who carves stones
While walking, an old man sitting on a bench by the road spoke to me. He said, "China? Korea?" so I answered, "Japan." After a bit of small talk, before I knew it I was inside his shop.
The old man was a craftsman who carved stones he collected in a town near Ankara into statues and accessories. Shelves were lined with many pieces. The moment a sun-shaped pendant caught my eye, I thought, "I like this."
He said, "It’s 850 lira, but today I’ll make it 450." I figured it was probably originally 450 anyway, but if it’s 450 it’s worth it. I asked, "How about 400?" and he said, "Okay."
He said he’d add a cord and even engrave a name. Payment was 200 lira cash + 200 lira by card. He clearly seemed to want cash right away. On days when customers don’t come by, places like this probably struggle. Business isn’t straightforward.
He saw me off with a smile and said, "Enjoy your trip." We also took a photo together. He had a lovely smile.
From the harbor up to the cliff
As I passed through the Old Town, I saw the harbor.
Beyond rows of white yachts and fishing boats, Roman-era walls rose up. I finally felt like I had come to a Mediterranean town.
Walking further in, I came to a lookout on top of a cliff. Because this is a ria coastline, the drop to the Mediterranean below was dramatic.
I asked a Turkish guy next to me to take a photo. The quality was terrible. Turkish men really have no sense for cameras (lol).
There were plenty of tourists moving from one sight to the next. They looked weighed down and their eyes were tired. You can tell by the vibe and their eyes who has been traveling long-term and who is on holiday. If you live in a society that constrains freedom and is full of stress, it shows in your clothes and your gaze. Just staring at the Mediterranean without thinking about anything made me happy. Because this trip has no deadline, moments like this arise. You can have this kind of inner journey.
Everyone in Antalya is chill. Compared to people in Ankara or Istanbul, they really feel freer and more laid-back. I really think place changes a person’s character. Where you live, who you partner with, what you do—of those three choices, I felt again that place is the most important. I want to place myself somewhere close to the sea.
An hour's walk to the pebble beach
I walked from the harbor to the coast. About an hour.
The sidewalks were nicely maintained, and walking itself felt good. I walked listening to Julio Iglesias and breathing in the scent of the Mediterranean. About every other turn a cat would appear.
Finally, I arrived at the beach.
The beach wasn’t sand but round stones about 1 cm across. Much easier to walk on than a typical beach. The color of the sea was truly Mediterranean—light blue. The smell was clear too. It wasn’t the kind of water where seaweed thrives. When I put my hand in, it was cold and transparent.
Next to me a group of Turkish people were playing volleyball. It was my first time at the sea since Batumi. The sea really is nice.
I sat on a bench and spaced out. Were that group lifelong friends, or just friends for the moment? I don’t have people I can just play with and laugh with purely like that. At 26, I still find myself envying that.
Baptized in the cat park
On the way back I passed a park full of cats.
There was a fluffy newborn kitten. I touched it. Then it peed on me.
Shit, I thought. There was a fountain right nearby which helped. I washed my hands and feet and shrugged it off.
An Iskender and soccer night
The lokanta near the hostel was full, so I went to another place. I ordered Iskender and ayran.
Thinly sliced meat with tomato sauce and yogurt on top. Simple, but addictive. This was my second ayran of the day.
After finishing my meal and writing in a cafe, it suddenly got noisy outside. Horns blared. Apparently Turkey had won in football and the city united in celebration. In Japan that would be dismissed as a "nuisance." Here, no one thinks that way. This is the kind of place, I thought as I sipped my coffee.
The cafe’s Wi-Fi was set to cut off after 40 minutes. When I asked for another code, they told me, "Then order something." I declined. This cafe lost a repeat customer. I thought that business nowadays should value existing customers over new ones. Thinking, "This is just the way things are," I packed my things.
Of the Turkey I’m seeing now, I like Antalya the most. It’s close to the sea. People are chill. Nobody is in a rush. I think it’s true that place changes people.
Tomorrow I’m heading to Fathiye. The trigger was a travel story told by a Russian I met at the hostel named Denis. I could talk with Denis because I can speak Russian. I came to Antalya because a Russian friend I met online and a Turkish woman named Bera told me about it. You really never know what will happen. This is how my destinations get decided.
