It isn't just Canada geese...

who fly in Vs. Tonight we were having dinner on the front terrace, watching the sunset and listening to the evening call to prayer, when we noticed a big scraggly V formation of huge birds flying our way out of the north. It wasn't until they were directly overhead that we were able to make out the black underwings and the long pink legs. They were flamingos They must have been heading to the mouth of the Menderes R. near Selçuk and Ephesus from their main nesting place in the salt pans west of Izmir. They sure looked like funny geese. Just as noisy, though.

The Sahara drops in

Last Saturday it rained in Izmir. Big deal, you might say, except there wasn't any rain last winter and western Anatolia is experiencing a drought. So the rain was very welcome, especially since we were just starting to recover from our exhausting travel and were happy to have an excuse to stay home and veg. But when Ron went out in the late afternoon to forage for some sustenance he noticed that everything was covered with mud, and the kids playing football in the street were actually playing something closer to ice hockey, slipping and sliding all over the place.

Nothing unusual, we thought. It's been so dry here that the air is full of dust and the rain is washing it out.

But the next morning when I went out to hang up the laundry I discovered the shoes I'd left on the terrace were full of mud, and everything was covered with reddish clay. So were the cars parked on the street. By the time we went to church the men were out scrubbing off their cars and the women were sloshing off their balconies with pails of water and brooms.

At church we learned that we'd experienced the south wind that blows in straight from the Sahara loaded with fine sand and silt. It happens regularly and is one reason Izmir's streets are so dusty. The only comparable experience we'd ever had was when we lived in Kincardine on Lake Huron's east shore, and the wind blew the topsoil from eastern Michigan onto us.

It's supposed to rain today, too, and if it does I'll be out with our super-sized squeegee trying to get the muck off the terraces. But I suspect that the sun has baked it on and we may have to learn to like the nice new reddish colour.

Another Turkish experience

So I got tired of my hand hurting and decided to go and get it looked at. I stuck my head into the nearest polyklinik, a walk-in clinic, but they were closed. So I headed off in the general direction of the nearest hospital. But it wasn't where I thought it was, and I had pretty much decided to phone one of our friends and ask him to go with me tomorrow. And then I saw in front of me a radiological polyclinic. I can take a hint. I went in and said something incoherent about a broken wrist (my Turkish has really suffered from the European expedition). The technician replied with a torrent of Turkish that meant, I decided, that the radiologist would see me in due course. I went and sat quietly, scanning my Turkish phrase book for anything that might come in handy, while the doctor dealt with the patients already waiting. Then the technician locked the door - I'd obviously stumbled in at the end of the day - and a lady turned up with a glass of tea. What a civilized place this is!

Eventually, after everyone had had their tea, the doctor showed up. I asked if he knew English and he said he could understand but couldn't speak it. So I described my fall and my pain in a mixture of languages that expanded to include French when he found out I was Canadian and admitted to knowing some French as well. They x-rayed my hand with some equipment that was not the newest I'd ever seen, and in a few minutes produced some pictures that showed a bit of a break. Nothing serious, and healing properly, but it means I should wear a bandage for a bit longer.

And then I asked about paying. They wouldn't let me. It was a gift to a visitor to their country, they said. "Geçmiş olsun" (get well soon), they said. And they sent me off with a couple of pictures of my bones.

How typically Turkish.

As you've noticed, we're home in Izmir now. I find it really hard to describe trips: "And then we went to... And then we saw...". That's no fun at all. So I'll just give you a couple of impressions.

Nice - not nice. Don't try driving in the city. We drove from Susan and Harry's place in the Périgord to Nice, and that was fine, but when we tried to find our downtown hotel we ended up trapped in a maze of one-way streets. We're all still friends, just. To top it all off, a pickpocket (an American woman) got my camera.

Monaco - I hate it. It feels like a black hole, sucking the energy out of me. I've found many holy places in our journeys, but this is the exact opposite, a city built out of greed.

Pisa - a highlight. We loved the moment when we turned a corner and Begüm saw the leaning tower. Her gasp made everyone around us smile. The baptistry and the cathedral beside the tower are quite lovely as well, and Pisa seems like a beautiful small city that would be worth spending a lot of time in.

Rome - surprisingly pleasant. I find the Vatican another black hole so didn't join the other two when they went to see it. Our hotel was very close to the Colosseum, and I enjoyed exploring that area on foot. We had many good meals there, including breakfasts at a charming café across the street from the hotel. And I found another camera in a little shop there for a price better than the big duty-free shops at the airport - got it with the help of an Italian Canadian who happened to be in the shop too (I eavesdropped and heard him talking about Canada with the owner, who spoke no English).

Athens - we were all exhausted by the time we got there, but there was still enough energy to wander the streets in the old section, have a great meal while watching the Acropolis light up, and climb up to the Acropolis in the morning. It was good introducing Begüm to her Greek neighbours. A lot of them turn out to be Turkish, or at least have grandparents who were born there and left in the 1923 clearances.

But Olympic Airlines (now on my least-favourite list of air carriers) was having another of its work-to-rule labour actions so we were an hour late leaving for İstanbul. We had just a few seconds to say hello to the Şamlı family as they collected their daughter, and then we grabbed the flight to İzmir. Fortunately Turkish Airlines was its usual prompt, clean, efficient, friendly self. We knew we were home at last. Whew!


So we're home for a few weeks. Early in June we'll visit the Şamlıs in İstanbul and head north to explore parts of eastern Europe. I haven't forgotten the Englishman of African origin we met in Whitby last year who said he was going to retire in Prague because it was the most beautiful city in the world. We need to see for ourselves. But for now it's time to heal and rest.

Update from Rome

Sorry for the long break. We're still alive, but it hasn't always been easy to find the time and the Internet connections to stay in touch. Today we're taking a bit of time off, and if we open the shutters and hold the computer out the hotel room window there's a bit of a wireless signal available, so maybe this update will work.

So I have to do another quick summary of three very full weeks. When will I learn to write things down each day and upload them when I can? Maybe tomorrow.

After the boat trip we spent a couple of days in Luxembourg - one more tick mark for our country list. Turns out it's a good tick mark to get. We had some great food, and were delighted to find that for 5€ we could get a day bus ticket that would take us anywhere in the country. We went to Echternach in the east, where there's a lovely basilica, and then explored the area around, called "Little Switzerland" because it's so rocky and mountainous. Lovely, and so easy to get around! Don't miss Luxembourg.

Off to Brussels for the weekend, to be met by our favourite son. We'd planned to move on to champagne country in Reims on Monday, but he had Tuesday off (May 1) so we stayed, walked around Brussels a bit more, and spent the holiday with him in Ghent. We'd seen Bruges on a tour from the boat, but I liked Ghent better. Perhaps it's because, as Evan says, it's a real town where real people live; perhaps it's because Evan was showing us around one of the places he likes. I kept thinking that this is surely payback time: the kid was collicky and screamed for his first few months, but now he's a delight to spend time with; a few months of misery are totally insignificant compared to the years of joy we've had with him (and his sister, of course).

So Wednesday morning we set off for Paris to meet up with our Turkish "daughter" Begüm, who arrived from Canada that afternoon. There was a panicky time at first when I couldn't find the tickets I'd been guarding in my purse - they didn't show up until that weekend when Evan was packing to go home. So we bought some new ones, trained to Paris, dropped the bags off at the hotel, got out to the airport by train and were there in plenty of time. No problem really.

Our hotel, the Albe, was in a perfect location right at the St. Michel-Notre Dame metro stop - Ron has found some great places through Trip Advisor. Poor Begüm has had to share some rooms with us, but she's been a good sport about it. Thursday we did Notre Dame, took a tour bus, and went up the Eiffel Tower. Friday was Versailles. Saturday we met Ophélie, the other Rotary exchange kid in Creston when Begüm was there, and did the Louvre. Unfortunately that day I also "did" my wrist by tripping over a cement traffic-stopper and landing on my hand. Moral: never walk and gawk at the same time. I think it's just sprained, although there have been times when I truly believed it was broken. That night Ron's camera got left at a restaurant and hasn't been seen since, unfortunately. That was not a good day. Sunday was better, though: a performance of the opera Simon Boccanegra at the Bastille theatre - great! - and a dinner boat tour along the Seine. Elegante.

Monday we headed off to the Périgord district in the southwest of France to visit our friends Susan and Harry. They have an amazing centuries-old farmhouse with attached guest apartment in the ancient town of Carlux. We enjoyed luxurious accommodations, the best food (mostly cooked by Susan, but the restaurants we sampled managed to look not too bad in spite of the stiff competition she gave them), great wines - Harry knows wine - and friends who are still good to be with after 15 years or so of absence. Those days felt like a real holiday.

Speaking of which, the rest of the gang seems to think we should get back to the hard work of touristing again. More later, inşallah.