Most people would agree that you get what you pay for. Low price, low quality. With the reverse being true.
Two factors that can govern selling and buying prices, are demand and availability. In respect to camp sites, both of these are in short supply throughout Türkiye. Caravan and MOHO touring still in its infancy. Consequently, the number of ‘proper’ camp sites is tiny for a country of this vast size. As a result, touring numbers are very low. Retirees, like us, make up a huge proportion throughout the EU, but not everyone is prepared to rough it out over here, using car parks, quiet roads, petrol forecourts and the like, when nothing else is in distance.
Day 44 – Our last site felt like we’d been taken for somewhat of a ride. EU price, but not EU standard. However, on arrival at today’s Antique Lodge Camping, we turn up trumps. Beastie is given a front of house shaded seat, courtesy of a huge olive tree.
Day 45 – We’re here for one reason only. Its close proximity to the ancient city of Ephesus. One of St Paul’s many preaching grounds. His tireless efforts galvanised and encouraged the early Christian communities.
It’s a reasonable Scoot away. We choose to visit late afternoon. Hoping to miss the majority of the coached in hoards from China and Japan. It’s a good reason, as if we needed one, to pass the earlier part of the day with some sadly missed pool time.
Later, on arrival at Ephesus, Scoot does something silly. Something unexpected he’s not done before. His multi-purpose key system, includes the lockable petrol cap. Mr S opens it, instead of the seat. The cap mechanism jams open. Unsure whether to still visit and leave Scoot to breath out fumes, or return to base, we decide to risk it. Hope his tank contents don’t evaporate before we return. [much later and back at camp, there’s only one solution. Out with the Gaffa-Tape. Sorted. ]
We baulked at the Pamukkale fee of €30 each. Starting price here is €40! We’ve read that the Terraced Houses are a must. Even though they’re part of the site’s complex, they come at an extra €12 pp each. So, for €104 we enter, thinking we better get our money’s worth.
First stop, the magnificent theatre. As we approach, it appears impressive. Easily on a par with Aspendos. On closer inspection, it’s easy to see it’s a new build look-alike.
So, exactly what are we seeing here? Part replica? A 3D rendered impression? The photo below, taken of the theatre just over a century ago, reveals all . . . sort of!
Undeterred and still needing to justify our €104, we move on up the impressive massive marbled main street.
If only the Romans had stayed around and expanded their gift of city building worldwide. They really were the ultra-modernists of their time.
The Library of Celsus is the image every visitor comes with and leaves with. Only the facade remains. Re-erected just fifty years ago.
A couple of hours in and it’s time to take a look at that little bit of added value. The Terraced Houses. An upmarket apartment block. Constructed for seven of the most prominent families of the time. Fountains, private baths, central heating, mosaic floors, a grandstand view of the city, close to the shops!
Three hours comes and goes. Just like us. Scoot is still breathing. With enough umph to see us back.
At the end of a hot tiring day, it’s good to look forward to a relaxing sleep. Not in earshot of a call to prayer, we go to bed with high hopes. They get shattered at 3am. A short growl. A warning bark. A blood curdling howl. Have we been transported to Baskerville Hall? Are we to be forever cursed with interrupted nights? We turn. Then turn again. To get up, or not get up? That becomes the question. The barking reaches maniacal proportions. Mr S bounds up, down and out. Does a Sherlock. Torch in hand. Finds the fiendish hound. Tempts him closer with a handful of dog biscuits. Gently chastises. He’s happy. We’re happy. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzs
Day 46 – Sirince, a hilltop village about a 20k Scoot away, grabs our attention. Mr S imagines it will be a quiet Sunday afternoon trip. The universally used brown signage gives the game away. All of yesterday’s Ephesus visitors have the same idea. It’s jammed. And this is in the low season! People, cafes, bars, restaurants and shops. Hundreds of shops. All vie. Most sell bangles, beads and nick-nacks. Competition is fierce. But few buy. Haven’t they heard? Us westerners are trying to minimise. Maybe their sales hopes lie with the Easterners?
We let loose some Turkish Lira. Mrs S indulges in a hand finished top. Mr in a litre of concentrated Mulberry juice. Obviously contrasting needs.
For lunch, Can greets us with the usual. “Hello. Welcome. Where are you from?” “England. Where are you from? – he gets it, (Mrs S doesn’t) – Can plays along. “I’m from Brazil. No Mexico. Como esta usted? From Spain actually.”
We hit the pillows just after midnight. Hoping beyond hope. 1.29am. Barking starts. Much louder than last night. Growling, more fierce. Not just one dog. Two. Is it a competition? Who barks loudest wins? What the hell is going on? Mr S dons deerstalker. Steps down. The dogs continue to let rip. Not at one another. It’s pitch black. What on earth . . . then, my torch catches three dark shapes – wild boar. Surprised by the evening of numbers they turn tail and scarper.
No chastisement. Well done pats of approval. Licks of acknowledgement. “We did good didn’t we?” – Yes. Peace. Silence. Sleep.
Interested to hear of your campsite experiences.
When we students went we were lucky to latch on to a number of new ‘BP Mocamps’ – attached to BP petrol stations … clean and good value.
Good to see the Roman loos are still ok!
No paper though Rog 🙂
Glad your trip went well.