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Adventures In Turkish Football: Fethiyespor 0 Sariyer 1
The walk from Fethiye old town to the football ground is not your typical match day approach. This is not a walk through lines of terraced houses on streets leading away from a Victorian train station, nor is it an amble through a soulless industrial or retail park to a latter day all-seater affair constructed from concrete and steel which is all fancy scoreboards and cantilever. Instead, I keep the sea and the tour boats on my left and the laughter filled bars on my right until I reach the quaint sea canal, at which point I turn inland and follow the gently lapping waterway in the direction of the…
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Fethiye: Exploring History On The Turkish Riviera
Balcony views like our rather wonderful one here are obtained either by choosing an upper floor in an apartment block or by staying uphill from town – ours here is the latter. Back in Padstow, the climb to our house is so steep that the Cornish locals nickname it “Cardiac Hill” – if by any chance there is an equivalent phrase in Turkish then we surely have to climb it each and every time we return to the apartment. It’s a steep one to say the least. Another benefit of being up here, as well as the amazing view, is that when we set off on our planned walk which…
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Fethiye: The Beauty Of The Absent Beast
The haunting sound of the call to prayer drifts over the tiled rooftops and up the hillside, echoing off walls and bringing an essence to the pre-sunrise shadows of morning. Other mosques join the chorus, the lingering tones of numerous muezzins funnelling out across the water and upwards through the streets, but apart from the call, all is calmness and serenity. Flags on masts hang limply in the breezeless dawn, rigging silent and still, a single boatman manoeuvres a small craft out through the moored yachts leaving his gentle wake to lap the wooden jetties, the sound of the motor simply amplifying the sense of peace. As he moves further…
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Arrival In Fethiye: Suddenly We’re In Turkey
As one of our friends commented the other day, we just can’t sit still for long. And so suddenly, in the blink of an eye, instead of watching the cold, wet autumnal days of England get shorter and shorter, we find ourselves looking out from our apartment balcony across the blue waters of a yacht filled marina to the pine clad hills on the other side of the bay. We’re in Turkey, and here’s how…. Back in the COVID blighted days of 2020, with our long held dreams of retirement travel temporarily knocked sideways, our choice of destinations shifted from our established wish list to those which presented themselves through…
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Autumn Sun
Our short sojourn between adventures has provided, as our times at home usually do, an opportunity to catch up with friends, family, football… and Cornwall. A changeable week in Cornwall weather wise brought a pattern of alternate sunny and wet days, though regardless of which it was, each day was pretty mild for the time of year. A few photos from the sunny days….
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Homeward Bound: Final Legs And Next Thoughts
It’s a small aeroplane, seats arranged in twenty rows of three, two one side of the aisle and one the other, roof low enough to necessitate a stooped walk towards our places. There’s something odd though; a makeshift barrier tape (looks like the demo seat belt used by stewardesses in the safety briefing), strung across the aisle, beyond which all the seats are already taken, even though passengers have only just started boarding. These guys are clearly too settled to have only just taken their places. Who are they, we wonder. Our designated seats are in Row 16, which is beyond the tape and therefore already occupied. Michaela moves the…
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Beyond Fawlty Towers
Nyanga was the Zimbabwe town set in beautiful countryside ravaged by wildfires, our hotel nestled in woodland with neat lawns and its own trout pool. Apart from a suspiciously empty car park there was at first nothing to tell us that we were about to step into a place so badly run that its comedy of errors would lead us to dub the place “Beyond Fawlty Towers”. Just how many issues can one hotel cram into three nights? It begins in reception, where for the first time in all of Africa we are met with straight faces instead of welcoming smiles. Having confirmed in advance that we could pay by…
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Ruth Williams, Zebras & A Love Story
In 1944, Seretse Khama, son of a tribal king and leader-in-waiting for the Bamangwato people of Bechuanaland, set sail for England at the behest of his father, in order to further his law studies first at Oxford University and later at the Inner Temple. Thrown into an unfamiliar land at a time of turmoil in the world, Khama found friendship and camaraderie among his fellow students. One unmissable face stood out from the crowd, the pretty face of a young lady named Ruth Williams from Blackheath, London, quick to enter the circle of friends. Friendship between the two soon developed into romance. For Ruth, who had never even spoken to…
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Okavango & Makgadikgadi: Days In Amazing Places
The outdoor shower at Boteti Tented Camp takes us aback, not because of its temperature but more due to its extreme saltiness, so saline as to give off a sea-like odour and leave the skin feeling pinched once dried. If this in itself is hardly an Earth shattering fact, the point that it is part of the unique topography of this area just adds to the mystique and intrigue we are already feeling as we gear up to explore more of our amazing surroundings. The natural phenomenon which is the Okavango Delta is full of features which are utterly fascinating and in some instances unique. Its annual story is this.…
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Northwards To Maun And The Okavango Delta
Francistown, whilst there’s nothing exactly wrong with it, isn’t the world’s most exciting place and we’ve been kicking our heels a bit, spending three and a half days in a town where you can probably see everything worth seeing between breakfast and lunchtime. Maybe though, our three days have seemed lengthened by anticipation, for when we leave here we will be heading for somewhere which was always planned to be one of the highlights of the whole trip. To herald our last night in Francistown, the very first invasive mosquito of the entire trip makes an appearance and clearly wants to be tonight’s star, whining its way past our ears…
