The first light call to prayer had barely faded into the morning air when we were up and getting ready for an early flight from Istanbul to Izmir. Izmir is Turkey’s third largest city and is located on the coast near the southwest corner of the country.
We did not see Izmir — not now, anyway. Instead, we drove directly up into the hill country to a tiny village called Bascöy. At a very cozy country house just outside the village, we met our hosts for a “home-hosted lunch,” a couple about our age. The man, named Irfan, is a musician and instrument maker. His wife, Selma, demonstrated that she is an excellent cook. They were most gracious hosts.
Not only did we enjoy a wonderful, home-cooked Turkish meal, but we got a tour of Irfan’s studio, where he gives lessons on traditional Turkish “gourd violins” (
kabak kamani) and instrument making shop.
He also played a bit for us on a 7-stringed instrument called a saz, or sazlar, and Selma even had everyone up and dancing (well, sort of). It was a fun afternoon, even though they spoke about as much English as we speak Turkish. Our tour director did a lot of translating.
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| Mary trying on Selma’s head scarf |
We left the village and drove to the seaside resort village of Kusadasi. On a clear day, some of the Greek islands of the Adriatic can be seen from here. Today, however, was too cloudy and hazy for that. We checked into our very nice hotel, then relaxed on our balcony, enjoying the ocean view and adult beverages until dinner.
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| A parade of motorcycles rides by our hotel, honking and waving Turkish flags, celebrating Atatürk Commemoration Day |
After dinner, the two of us went for a seaside walk. Our tour director had told us that Kusadasi, in Turkish, means “bird island.” We thought it a strange name, since the city is built on the mainland of Turkey, and we saw now island. However, we didn’t walk far before seeing a beautifully lit stone city wall on a small island. This walled city was the original “bird island.”
We enjoyed our sunset walk through this nicely restored historical site before returning to the hotel for the night.
We did not see Izmir — not now, anyway. Instead, we drove directly up into the hill country to a tiny village called Bascöy. At a very cozy country house just outside the village, we met our hosts for a “home-hosted lunch,” a couple about our age. The man, named Irfan, is a musician and instrument maker. His wife, Selma, demonstrated that she is an excellent cook. They were most gracious hosts.
Not only did we enjoy a wonderful, home-cooked Turkish meal, but we got a tour of Irfan’s studio, where he gives lessons on traditional Turkish “gourd violins” (kabak kamani) and instrument making shop.
We enjoyed our sunset walk through this nicely restored historical site before returning to the hotel for the night.
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