As we were well on the eastern side of Cirali it was easier to continue on the road out of town and cut north across to the trail rather than double back into town. The first part of the trail was on an easy paved road to Chimaera which is the burning mountain. Once again because the trail goes through this tourist attraction we were expected to pay an entrance fee but at 9:15 no one was about and there was no obvious box to leave money so we started on the 1km steep uphill climb. It was constructed of large stone steps that were often so high it was hard to manage and most people had walked around many of the steps forming a path and shorter more manageable step height. Someone had placed rubbish bins with 100 mtrs markers, sometimes 50 mtrs and sometimes they had been moved so they were not all that helpful in knowing how far you had to go. At least they were in order. It was a tough climb and even though it was cloudy the sweat was soon trickling and my glasses soon fogging up.
The chimaera was fascinating. Small fires and flames coming out of the rocks. They are a natural gas that has been burning for over 2,500 years and at times fluctuate in height and quantity. The guide book suggests going up at night to get the full effect but I think the path up would be too dangerous for me to do in the dark. As usual it had some steep drop offs.
We continued up the mountain and rested on a rock to catch our breath and met the hare for the first time. A young Turkish man with a large pack. He has a few English word and we established that we were all heading to Beycik for the night. He farewelled us, took a step backwards and thank goodness it wasn’t 3 because he would have gone over the side, a 20+ mtr drop. About 15 mins later we passed him having a rest, and went through another Chimaera site, one that probably only trekkers would see.
We got to the top of the mountain and it was a more gentle walk through a forest down towards Ulupinar and then of course another upward road into town. We came across a trout farm with restaurant so had lunch at a table watching the fish in the ponds below us. Not a lot of trout and quite a few fish that almost looked like white goldfish. Interestingly there was not trout on the menu. It was calamari and lamb skewers, both pretty awful but served with a hot flat bread that was nice. We then walked on another 1 km passed several more trout farms with men out front trying to drum up lunch trade and found the store with a water fountain opposite. There was the hare refilling his water bottle. While Danny had an altercation with a party of Russians in the store I went to refill at the fountain. A man was there with about 30 x 5 litre bottles refilling and using both water spouts in tandem. The Hare had ducked in to fill his water bottle so I did the same and got a dirty look. Then a lady from the store came to fill her cooking pot and ducked in as well. It was just too much for the man as his tandem pattern was upset yet again and he let fly. I was out of there.
We watched the Hare walk off down the alternate route and we took the official, which was poorly marked and overgrown. We had to find a tunnel under the freeway and missed it and soon realised we couldn’t go over the road so had to double back and find the tunnel. We were soon on a country road with a steady incline but good footing for most of it. It was just a constant uphill slog for about 3 kms and soon the Hare came up behind us and overtook us. For the first time we saw people picking the pomegranates. We have seen thousands of trees fully laden and it was good to see them finally being picked. At least it made me feel hopeful that someone has a viable market.
We turned onto a forest track which soon also got stony and we had to watch out for the peril of pine needles covering pebbles and uneven rocks. We were both dripping wet with sweat and I was constantly blowing drips of the end of my nose and wiping them of my cheeks and chin. My eyes were stinging and glasses fogging. It was not easy going!
We caught up with the Hare at a river crossing and watched him flit across a log while we more cautiously took to the stepping stones and soon after had to walk up a muddy stream and found him sitting on a chair at the top having a rest. It was then a rock scramble with muddy slippery boots and then a road and another forest walk. The Hare soon caught us at a section where we had lost the markers for about 20 mts. He also was relying on his GPS and found a marker so led the way.
We came to a divergence and he decided to take the green route (the alternative) we stuck with the red route (the official) but after about 50 mtrs realised it was overgrown, no markers and no definitive path. We doubled back and soon found ourselves faced with the hardest stretch of all. It was an extremely steep bolder and rock scramble, with lots a sheer drop offs. At one stage I really didn’t know it I could go on. My legs felt week, everything was wet with sweat and my hands slippery, and I was also aware it was high in the mountains a mist had started and I didn’t have a jumper in my pack and I was worried I would end up cold. With the arthritis in my left knee I had been relying heavily on my right left to do the heavy lifting up steps and I was worried it also had just had enough. Worry and fear are two things you just cannot let into your head at times like this. I was just saying ‘one more step’ over and over. Constantly looking for the next marker, because there was no time for wrong moves and doubling back. At one stage we had been going about 15 mins and I stopped to pull out the GPS to see if we were actually still on trail as it was hard to believe we were and it told me we had gone 20 mts in 15 minutes. So demoralising. Another 30 mins or so we had reached the top and then it was another stony road down to the tarmac and a killer walk for 900mts uphill into town and our Pension, which is also the local store. He offered us a coffee but Danny took a beer. I was too exhausted to take anything. We were sitting outside and I was getting chilly. I couldn’t take my pack off for fear of getting colder. All I wanted was to get in a hot shower. The man who couldn’t speak much English saw my dilemma and went to turn the hot water booster on explaining the the solar system wasn’t much help today. Eventually we were taken to our room. It’s a pretty dusty run down establishment and not much love and care over recent years but at least I got the smallest of hot water trickles and there were blankets on the bed rather than just a tablecloth that the Turkish call a top sheet.
No sooner did I get out of the shower and jump into bed and it started to rain. Oh how lucky were we. That bolder scramble might have been impossible in rain and I wondered where the Hare was finding a dryish camp.
Danny set an alarm for 6.50pm in case we fell asleep and missed dinner but he needed have bothered. It seems we are right next to the mosque so the call to prayer blasted us out of bed. We went down to the kitchen for dinner. Thankfully some hot tomato soup followed by the inevitable meatballs, rice and salad. What I would give for a goat curry or stew! Who should walk in- The Hare. He has found a dry piece of camping area on the terrace outside our room which also doubles up as the junk yard and undercover washing line where my clothes are hanging and have absolutely no chance of drying.
One word or two about the Russians. We passed a few groups coming down the hill today, mainly young people. They are the main tourist in this part and seem to be taking over. We have been told constantly that there are Russian refugees and mainly families and young people who have come for holidays and have refused to go home because of the war. Other young men have come to Turkey to escape conscription. I can’t help wonder what the effect is on the local culture and society. The local Turkish are generally very friendly, welcoming and helpful. Inflation and the lire value is out of control and they realise tourism is their best chance at staying afloat. The Russians generally are rude and pushy and demanding. They are big drinkers in a country that traditionally shuns alcoholic but has realised that selling booze can pay. This morning a group of 7 women and one man all demanded vodka shots at breakfast and dutifully a bottle was produced from the back of the kitchen. I couldn’t help but think of the emotional dilemma of the family running the place, and if in the long run their family values, religious norms and society will change or at the very least fragment. Most families we have talked with declare themselves Muslim but don’t go to the mosque, most have decried that there are more mosques than schools and that schooling is not compulsory, some have been frustrated that their leader places bigger emphasis on religion rather than political and commercial progress, and most are confused about taking the Russians money to prop up their own income but at the same time saying the Russians are driving up housing prices to the extent that the locals can no longer afford to buy a home. I can’t help but think big changes will happen over the next decade.
Guess what it’s meant to be a very difficult days walk tomorrow. We traverse Mt Olympus. The highest point on the trail. The downhill on the other side is meant to be very slippery, but first we have to do the uphill.!!!
Jane treks Lycian Way 2022 