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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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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…
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Don’t Look Back In Nyanga
A couple of weeks back when we were first experiencing Zimbabwe in the town of Victoria Falls, I made the comment that the cash crisis was driving the country towards a cashless society and that Visa is accepted everywhere. I so regret saying that now – it turns out to be a completely misguided statement based on a tourist driven micro economy in one single town, and not in the slightest bit true of Zimbabwe as a whole. In fact it’s probably the biggest load of bo***cks I’ve ever written. We’re finding this out the hard way. The near six hour drive from Great Zimbabwe to Nyanga first takes in…
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The Lost City Of Great Zimbabwe
We make our way along the dusty path from the sparsely populated car park having read something of the history and importance of the place we are approaching, but with little idea of just how engaging Great Zimbabwe is going to be. Listed by The Guardian newspaper as one of the world’s great lost cities and a UNESCO World Heritage site since 1986, this is a place of mystical charm and fantastic workmanship from centuries back. Such is the importance of this site that is from here that the newly independent Zimbabwe took its name (Zimbabwe = houses of stone). It’s not uncommon when entering a lost city to let…
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Bulawayo #2: The Blue Whale And Three White Rhinos
In attempting to describe Bulawayo, or even the part of Zimbabwe we have seen so far, it’s difficult to know where to start. Away from the hectic centre, the long roads out of the city are bordered by a suburbia filled with those who are clearly doing okay, big houses in large plots surrounded by security fences and filled with decorative plants. Yet the roads themselves are pitted, potholed nightmares evidencing lack of both maintenance and investment, many of the vehicles on them equally badly cared for. The neighbourhood where we visit Dave who provides Michaela’s much needed haircut (Michaela: one of my best travel haircuts EVER, if not THE…
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Travelling Back In Time In A City Called Slaughter
You know how sometimes a place name captures your imagination and sounds and feels exotic? For some reason Bulawayo hits those notes for me, though with no real reason – we don’t know much about it and it doesn’t exactly have the ring of a Kathmandu, a Timbuktu or even a Casablanca, yet somehow it’s been calling. Which is how we come to be being driven by the ever reliable Kenny to Victoria Falls airport to board a small but smart Air Zimbabwe plane to the country’s second city. One thing we have learnt about it is how to say it, and it’s definitely not the “Buller-way-oh” pronunciation that the…
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Across The Border: From Zambia To Zimbabwe
All we ask Caroline at the lodge for is a taxi to the border. What we get is a driver named Steven who does that bit, but also chaperones us through the slightly confusing Zambian exit system and then drives us over the Victoria Falls Bridge as far as Zimbabwe immigration where he points out a smiling guy in a blue T-shirt. The smiling guy is Kenny, and before we know it we’ve skipped the line, got the obligatory stamps in our passports and been driven to the very door of our next stay. Expert courier service for the price of a taxi. It’s how it is here: service repeatedly…
