Travels With Talbotts: Mediterranean 2009: Sunday 2 August

Docked at Kuşadası this am, and departed for the Ancient Ephesus Tour at 9:15 (pronounced "Asian Ephesus" by the tour announcer, causing not a little confusion....) Drove out to the city of Ephesus with lovely views of the countryside and coastline on the way. The ruins themselves were interesting, with marble paved streets and beautiful columns (have re-learned the difference in doric, ionic, and corinthian) but the highlights were definitely the library and the amphitheater.

The facade of the library was nothing less than stunning (which is interesting after we had such a long discussion yesterday regarding our jaded attitude toward antiquities.) Three levels of arches and columns, all ornately carved, with marble steps leading up to the front. Must have been a breathtaking sight at its prime.

The amphitheater seemed absolutely unreal.. something out of an old Hollywood epic like Clash of the Titans (which I do not freely admit to liking in my untutored youth, but I will say that I am aware of the film... and the sets... and all of the lines and characters...) Anyhow, massive stone seats rise in tiers, forming a huge semi-circle around a stage floor... They apparently still hold concerts there, and though it would be agonizingly uncomfortable, it would be an incredibly impressive sight. Rather like the Ryman of Turkey, I would think... At least, the comfort level of the seats would be about the same....

Saw, and walked on, the road that Cleopatra and Marc Antony trod, and learned the history behind the tradition of the red carpet for ceremonial occasions: apparently the people of Ephesus, in an effort to prove their prosperity, poured wine on the marble streets as a welcoming gesture for the couple, thus turning the white marble to red. Unsure if this is true, but it makes a rather interesting tale.

Bought a few pieces of pottery (2 medallions and a small lion) from a man with a shop nearby; the owner claimed to be the artist, and showed us the ring which he presses to each piece before he fires them, but again, I take these things with a grain of salt. We were also once told that a certain scarf was hand woven by women in a nearby village, and the seller adamantly stuck to this story until we pointed out the "Made in Afghanistan" tag dangling from one corner. Caveat emptor, to be sure.

Ducked out of the carpet making seminar (you can only see these so many times) and did a bit of shopping on our own near the docks. Shopping in Kuşadası was still a bit stressful, but nothing like the craziness of Istanbul. Found a nice little store called Meersham King with a salesman named Mustafa, where we bought some gifts to bring home and a really lovely little brass vase engraved with birds and very fine detailing. Fell in love with a bowl that had beautiful scrollwork and engraved Arabic text, but at €320, it had to stay where it was.

Chris bought his mother a scarf, and himself a leather bound journal (although apparently, keeping a journal isn't something he is prepared to undertake, dammit) but I was impressed that 1.) it wasn't a computer game, and 2.) he didn't wait until the last day to try to find his mother a gift. So there is that, at least.

Stopped by Dan and Ton's cabin to show them the new vase and hear about their day, as they took a motor tour of the city (since Ton can't easily walk.) Apparently, they were kept from seeing the home of the Virgin Mary by the histrionics of a 14 year old who claimed she was too ill to continue. Ton believes she was simply bored, but anyhow, they were required to wait until she and her family could be taken back to the ship, which took some considerable time. In any case, they still probably saw more of the city than we did, so it will be interesting to trade photos...

Dan and Ton also hadn't had much of a chance to do any shopping, so after dinner, we all trooped back to Mustafa's store to place a bit more custom in their way. Ton came out with some really beautiful items, including a brass urn and a camel bone box with an incredibly delicate painted hunting scene (I had actually noticed the same box earlier, and had, in fact, brought it to her attention, much to Dan's dismay.) I once again pined over my Arabic bowl, and both Mustafa and his uncle tried very hard to send it home with me (knocking the price down to €200) but we just couldn't see our way to closing the deal. Well, let me amend that, JAMES just couldn't see his way to closing the deal, all the while toting around the Meersham pipe that Mustafa had succeeded in placing in his grubby little fist.

So, I sadly departed sans bowl, and we made it all the way back through security and to the ship before reason (or my constant barrage of psychological warfare) prevailed. James and I turned around and made a mad dash back through the now familiar streets, I, all the while fearing that someone else may have already claimed my beloved vessel in the intervening half hour.

As we approached, Mustafa, who was sitting outside the shop (as is the custom in these markets), jumped up and exclaimed:

"Lisa! We didn't think you were coming back! Do you want to look at it again, or do you just want me to bring it down?"

James told him that I had looked enough, and to just bring it down and wrap the damn thing up. So Mustafa's uncle trotted upstairs to grab the bowl, and the remaining three of us went inside to complete the transaction. They were both (Mustafa and his Uncle) very sweet and funny, and yes, I realize that they are salesmen, but don't bring me down dammit. I love that bowl.

Anyhow, it is now 11:00 pm, and it has been a long and exciting day, but by God I can sleep well knowing that my bowl is in my cabin safely tucked under my bed, and not still sitting on an upstairs shelf of that shop waiting to go home with Lord-knows-who. As Mustafa quite rightly said while wrapping up my purchase: "She is happy girl." (Of course, he amended that by pointing to James afterwards and saying "... and he is sad boy.") But even though it was a fairish amount of money, I am pretty sure James knows what it meant to me. He wants a home full of stories about travel and people we have met, too... at least, that is MY story and I am sticking to it.