And there was evening and there was morning, Day Three
In the early morning, we are served an amazing breakfast, and the adult hosts, the hunter and his wonderful wife, stand by, nodding "eat, eat!" It’s Ramadan and in the month of Ramadan Islamic people fast during the day and eat only after sun down. I feel so guilty. But our hosts insist we eat. Western politeness kicks in, we cannot refuse. We finish this tasty breakfast, and decide that for a fee, the hunter will drive us to the city of Kemer and from there we will find our way back to the Lycian route and continue hiking.
The Canadian sits in the front, and I am in the back seat. As the car ride drags on and on and it turns out that Kemer is almost an hour away from the hunter’s home. I am beginning to feel that the whole dream of actually hiking the Lycian Way is fading away, and here we are doing almost the entire trip in a clunky old piece of junk.
In Kemer we say goodbye to our golden toothed savior, and as soon as he leaves I say that I am very unhappy with the way things are going and this ride to Kemer was not a good a good decision. My Canadian buddy takes a deep breath and says: "let's talk about it." I don't know why but I burst out crying and declare I need a sim card for my phone. She says: "Okay, let's get a sim card." We find a shop, I am still sniveling so she does all the talking and I buy a new sim card so that I don't have to pay so much for the data I'm using with my Israeli sim card.
We sit down in the shade and I still can't get myself together. Then my friend looks at her maps app and suggests we walk along a highway towards the next town where, according to Kate Clow's information the Lycian Way goes down to the beach and there we'll get back on it. it is now around 10 o'clock in the morning and the day is getting quite hot.
Before I manage to get myself organized the Canadian puts her backpack on her back and begins walking away from me. I call her but she does not respond, and she is moving further and further away from me. The distance between us increases, and the aforementioned leads me to a highway that, according to the signs, leads to a resort town called Tekirova.
With my walking poles, like a complete idiot, I walk along a black tar dual carriageway road. The sun is beating down on my head, the asphalt is burning my feet, I am a torch burning with anger; the dream has become a nightmare. I curse the Canadian a lot.
At one of the intersections, somewhere between Kemer and Tekirova, I manage to catch up with the descendant of the Nordic immigrants that came to Canada centuries ago and announce that I am not continuing. Not even half a step. I’m calling a taxi, and that’s it. I barely finish the sentence when a taxi climbs up the road and stops beside us. How does my father, that rascal, always look out for me, I wonder? We throw our backpacks—she with her twelve kilos and me with my thirteen—into the trunk, and in silence, each with her walking poles between her legs, we sit in the back seat of the air-conditioned taxi.
The ride from nowhere to the resort city center takes about a quarter of an hour, and the whole way I only wonder how this air-conditioned quarter of an hour could have ended in gait fracture, heatstroke, and certain death.
I can’t understand how I agreed to all this. Again, a feeling of weakness creeps into my heart, how I get sucked into other people's decisions, especially those who are tall, blonde, and with Northern country names. So what if I’m one meter sixty? That doesn’t mean I should agree. That’s it, I’m done with her, and when we reach a place where we can sit and talk, I will inform her in no uncertain terms that this is the end of our shared journey!
On the other hand, I know that I did not prepare well enough for the trip. I should have brought Kate Clow’s book with me and read it over and over here in Turkey so that I know exactly how to stay on the Lycian Way, even if I needed to get there from the village of Hisarcandir.
“I’m hungry,” I say to the Canadian. She nods her head, “Me too.” The taxi stops next to the restaurant "Asia" for döner pizza kebab. We pay, gather our backpacks, and enter the spacious terrace of the local restaurant.
I won’t elaborate on the conversation and discussion that took place following everything that happened up to this point. I will only say that words were spoken and tears were shed, and then, and only then, our true friendship was formed. We decided to rent a room at the Le Marden Spa Hotel in Tekirova and rest for two days.
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