Post from Tim:
I'm amazed at modern Turkey's bus system. In our short 1 1/2 hour journey from Çesme to Izmir (in a brand new Mercedes bus), a conscientious attendant offered us no less than hand disinfectant, bottled water, and hot coffee, tea, or soda. The service rivaled any airline, yet the price, at about $2.50 was as low as a city subway ticket.
Once in Izmir's southern bus station, we hired a cab to the city center. Kilometers of blocky 7-10 story apartments rolled by my window like a rolling stage backdrop. A typical uninspiring cityscape - endless grey buildings encircled by balconies and digital satellite dishes, with banks, cafes, mom & pop grocers, and clothing stores on the street level.
Surely a 5000-6000-year old city had more to offer? We checked into an ""otel"" and joined the city's leisurely Sunday strollers to find out for ourselves.
We walked first to Izmir's 100-year old Ottoman clock tower and watched the pedestrians in the busy Konak Square pass by. Several stopped at the wash basins surrounding the base of the monument to splash around in the water and quash the midday heat. A shoeshine boy plucked down next to us on a makeshift tin can seat. He jokingly asked if my beat up sandals needed a shine, then pursued Michelle's suede hiking boots with a brush despite her repeated ""no's"". We left him behind in the plaza a few moments later, still requesting money that we were not about to give him.
The nearby Izmir bazaar buzzed with weekend browsers and eager shopkeepers trying to turn our heads with, ""Where are you from?"" and other pre-sale pleasantries. I was neither in the mood to buy nor carry in my backpack any of their leather works, shoes, Turkish carpets, cell phones, watches, or other goods, so I declined every advance. The only person who tempted me was a street vendor filling the bazaar with the aroma of fried fish. Customers circled around him, eating his fish on paper plates with a wedge of lemon.
We walked north of the bazaar and through the gates of the Kültürpark. This large city park offers its city residents a zoo, amusement park, roller skating rink, and restaurants in addition to greenery and gardens. We drank a cup of thick Turkish coffee in an open cafe, between couples sharing tea from wood burning semavers (samovars) and men smoking tobacco from giant hookahs.
In the evening, the air cooled down to the perfect silky temperature between warm and cold. We found a pleasant harbor-side park overlooking the Aegean Sea and watched the last vestiges of daylight fade from red to purple. The rest of Izmir seemed out to join us, as even at 9 PM the park benches and jogging trails were full of couples and families enjoying the last few hours of their weekend.
We ate a Turkish pudding and watched a vibrant city at play.
Once in Izmir's southern bus station, we hired a cab to the city center. Kilometers of blocky 7-10 story apartments rolled by my window like a rolling stage backdrop. A typical uninspiring cityscape - endless grey buildings encircled by balconies and digital satellite dishes, with banks, cafes, mom & pop grocers, and clothing stores on the street level.
Surely a 5000-6000-year old city had more to offer? We checked into an ""otel"" and joined the city's leisurely Sunday strollers to find out for ourselves.
We walked first to Izmir's 100-year old Ottoman clock tower and watched the pedestrians in the busy Konak Square pass by. Several stopped at the wash basins surrounding the base of the monument to splash around in the water and quash the midday heat. A shoeshine boy plucked down next to us on a makeshift tin can seat. He jokingly asked if my beat up sandals needed a shine, then pursued Michelle's suede hiking boots with a brush despite her repeated ""no's"". We left him behind in the plaza a few moments later, still requesting money that we were not about to give him.
The nearby Izmir bazaar buzzed with weekend browsers and eager shopkeepers trying to turn our heads with, ""Where are you from?"" and other pre-sale pleasantries. I was neither in the mood to buy nor carry in my backpack any of their leather works, shoes, Turkish carpets, cell phones, watches, or other goods, so I declined every advance. The only person who tempted me was a street vendor filling the bazaar with the aroma of fried fish. Customers circled around him, eating his fish on paper plates with a wedge of lemon.
We walked north of the bazaar and through the gates of the Kültürpark. This large city park offers its city residents a zoo, amusement park, roller skating rink, and restaurants in addition to greenery and gardens. We drank a cup of thick Turkish coffee in an open cafe, between couples sharing tea from wood burning semavers (samovars) and men smoking tobacco from giant hookahs.
In the evening, the air cooled down to the perfect silky temperature between warm and cold. We found a pleasant harbor-side park overlooking the Aegean Sea and watched the last vestiges of daylight fade from red to purple. The rest of Izmir seemed out to join us, as even at 9 PM the park benches and jogging trails were full of couples and families enjoying the last few hours of their weekend.
We ate a Turkish pudding and watched a vibrant city at play.