Cesme (Chez-may) is a small town on the peninsula west of Izmir on the west coast of Turkey. Only 45 minutes by plane, it is a good 10-11 hours drive from Istanbul with very little road of motorway standard.

Zinta's company was holding a sales conference there with representatives from all over Turkey.

We left Istanbul on Wednesday morning on a mild spring day and arrived less than an hour later in summer. An arranged car took us to Ilica (ill-i-jar), a beautiful beach not far from Cesme. We were staying at the Sheraton Hotel, a five-star palace with it's own stretch of beach. Our room had a grandstand view of the beach and was certainly plush.

We had our own living room with sofas and chairs, a dining area and even a massage chair. My first stop was this chair to try out the controls. I soon found out that five minutes in this chair and I would be incapable of walking and would possibly be a paralysed.

The bedroom and bathrooms (yes... plural) were also very nice and both the living room and bedroom had access to a lovely terrace. Perfect for sitting and having a cigar and contemplating the sea.

Our first indication of the unusual was some areas of bright yellow colouring at the waterline. Oddly there was also a large digger working on the area near the hotel pier. If one was of a suspicious nature, one might suspect that they'd hit something while they were digging. However by the time we took a walk later in the afternoon, it had largely dissipated. Or so we thought...

We had time for lunch, for Zinta to meet up with a few people and then we went out for a walk. Asking the reception for a map of the area we got a badly photocopied sheet which basically indicated land, sea and Sheraton Hotel although with no scale. We also argued about which was the land and which was the sea for some time.

Armed with this, we set off in search of Cesme. I had vaguely read a web site for the hotel that said the city was a few kilometres away. After several kilometres walking we were getting nowhere so we headed back. Ilica is a real holiday resort place, akin to the Greek Island resorts we've been too. Lots of bars, hotels with a few bikini shops and places to buy your water and beer.

Thursday, Cassie, a fellow spouse, and I set off to Cesme. The original idea was to walk but by the middle of Ilica we decided to take a taxi instead. The five minute journey was smooth sailing on empty roads. Not so the payment for said vehicle. 10 Million lira! (US$6). Cassie, who takes taxis all the time in Istanbul was horrified.The same journey would be a few million at most in Istanbul. This was just a tourist tax.

Cesme itself is not that exciting. We walked from one end to the other, up the hill, along the seafront and it was still only 11am. Cassie wanted a bikini so we had a very nice chat with the lady in a tiny store. She was charming and made every effort to help us with our Turkish. Cassie is now quite good but I still have fun making myself understood.
We also were looking in a fishing tackle/dive shop window and idly talking about fishing (there not being much else to do) when the owner arrived to open the door. He introduced himself as 'Mehmet... I just lost the last election and used to be a member of the European parliament....' The details I rather forget but we do find a number of people introduce themselves this way. Not as failed MP's but by detailing their careers and qualifications along with the introductions. I'm working on my own of course:

"Hi, I'm Bruce. I used to have a real job with computer thingies but now I'm just dependently wealthy"

Along the dock we had a great time talking to some marines on a gunboat. They thought it very amusing that we came from Istanbul and Cassie and one lad spent some time working out common places they knew. Anything to relieve the tedium of being assigned to a gunboat in a holiday resort. Maybe they thought Saddam would be staying at the Sheraton.

Our last adventure was going into a shoe shop. Ostensibly for me to look for some lightweight trekking boots but it was Cassie who emerged with some trekking sandals.

We then found a local bus, Dolmus, that went to Ilica. Only two million for us both, as fast and just as comfortable as a taxi. It's a great way to travel if you know where you're going and it's a quiet part of the day. In Istanbul I would have to be pretty desperate to consider it.

It was still only lunchtime so we had an awful meal in a hotel restaurant and then hit the pool. It was definitely early in the season. Service was next to impossible to find and it was up to us to find towels. And the pool was freezing.

The evening meal was followed by my suggestion of us hitting the bar and ordering a small bottle of raki, the Turkish firewater. Thinking this would be cheaper than ordering it by the glass... Not so! We got a carafe where they carefully measured how many glasses it contained and charged us for each one. So a US$6 bottle of raki cost us US$25! So we finished it. Five or six each which was some achievement. Cassie went on to have more in the upstairs bar long after I'd stopped for the night. Oddly it doesn't give me a hangover but does make you sleep badly and, with me, makes one rather loquacious.

Friday followed a similar laid back track. Hitting the beach in the morning to avoid the worst part of the day. But now the yellow peril had spread. It was all along the beach but concentrated in the first few metres of the water. In the afternoon we walked to the eastern end of the beach and saw it everywhere.

But there are some lovely houses there. Could have been New Zealand or Australia. Very Whangamata.

Saturday was our only chance of some culture. We set off early to drive to Efes (Ephesus) the great Hellenic colony just down the coast. An unprepossessing site, it is quiet amazing when you walk through it. You can really imagine it as a trading colony. But they have done quite a bit to try knock any magic out of it.

Firstly you must negotiate the vendors selling tickets, guides, ice-cream, nuclear missiles etc in the carpark. Then the theatre has been put behind a fence which you can walk into but the upper tiers are fenced off with the most attractive set of wire since Auschwitz. In keeping with this, the Austrians (duh??) have put a huge structure over the terrace houses which are some of Ephesus's most interesting features. Zinta remembered them from 20 years ago and was most disappointed to not see them again.

The bit that stood out for me was some little 'luxury' houses just off the main thoroughfare. I thought they were very dinky but then realised that they were the exact model that I had bought in West Drayton in England. Same living room and stairs to the upper floor. Couldn't see if the kitchen had a dish washer (mine didn't) but I'm dying to find out if they were the same size. They did have a lovely mosaic path in front of them and I could just imagine the inhabitants having a good Cuban while watching the barbarians strolling up from the harbour to the brothel opposite.

If this was early in the season, I'd hate to be there at the peak. We constantly fought against a surge tide of tourists. The only positive, that there were a lot of Turkish kids seeing their own history... alright.. Greek history, but it's the history of their country.

Lunch was in a small hilltown that had been recommended. The town was also crowded with tourists and the restaurant we chose a little slow in service. But it was a great location. People seemed pleasant too and really appreciate foreigners speaking a bit of Turkish. Zinta bought some hand hewn spoons from a little man who hacked them out with an axe while holding the wood with his foot. You've got to admire that courage in a country with limited health insurance.

Sunday, not being much else to do in Cesme, we went back to the same shoe shop and Zinta fancied the sandals that Cassie had bought. The manager said good morning and then did a double take. He then said carefully "Nice to see you again?". So I told him that Zinta was my other wife. This was duly repeated at the bikini shop where we again had a good chat with the woman. The only one I couldn't face again was the former MP in his fishing tackle shop.

After an hour or so and several more chats with men digging up gardens and restaurateurs, we stopped for lunch at a harbourside place. Nothing to write home about but less than half the price of the Sheraton's cheapest offering.

We then rested up in the hotel for the return journey. After a very uneventful trip back we got in the late evening.

Would I go back? Well... nothing to write home about.... that's a laugh as I'm doing just that. But it's got a nice beach... when the yellow stuff has totally gone (it was still there when we left but now spread right out to the deeps). There would be some nice houses to rent but I wouldn't bother with the hotel again. Or maybe stay there and eat and drink outside.

Ephesus is worth a look but Termessos beats it hand's down for me. Much more dramatic scenery and less tourists.

That's all for the Cesme Report.

Bruce
07 May 2003

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