The English Turkish Riviera

The less said about the bus journey from Goreme to Marmaris, the better. Suffice it to say that thirteen hours on a bus that gradually became more crowded, more overheated, and more malodorous throughout the night was not one of the more comfortable nights I have had to endure. They try their best: there are TVs, and the seats are at least soft, and there are regular stops, but nothing could induce me to have more than about an hour's sleep all night.

Marmaris, into which I arrived, had little of what I have come to expect of Turkey. There was the shuttle bus from the bus station to the centre, which was small and authentically Turkish, but here the similarities stopped. Having avoided wearing shorts for fear of offending, and having eaten almost nothing but true Turkish cuisine for over a week, I was suddenly thrown into an environment in which my Western values and expectations were both at home and thoroughly alarmed. Having enjoyed a great choice of vegetarian food in Turkey, here the only veggie burger I could find was at Burger King - everywhere else was catering for the British tourists. In fact, the first item on nearly every menu was the full English breakfast. But the strangest difference was in dress. Here, religious sensibilities are thrown at the window along with 80% of a person's clothes: short shorts, mini skirts, t-shirts or even toplessness (of the male variety I should add) were ubiquitous and nobody thought twice about it. In the summer I've heared that tourists can outnumber locals by 10 to 1 and the majority of these are Brits. I'm sure even in late April I heard more Yorkshire accents alone than people speaking Turkish.

I explored the waterfront of the town, which takes a good half hour to walk from end to end, sat in a couple of cafes, did some reading, and soaked up the sun, but the interest for me in the town was soon exhausted. Had I been here longer, I would have taken a tour to explore the beautiful coastline, but even these were geared towards the package holiday market, mostly involving stops at beaches only. The place I was staying was great for the price, but there were no other backpackers there and I was pleased I was not going to be there long. I went to bed early so I could get to the ferry early the next morning.

The next morning, the owner of the hostel offered to take me and my luggage to the port, situated out of town, on his scooter. I was eager for the free ride and so hopped aboard. At the port, the boat I boarded was not what I was expecting. Having been used to bigger ferries in the Adriatic, and seeing the numbers of tourists at Marmaris, I expected something like this, but the boat was tiny and the passengers didn't number above 20. Towards the end of the 90 minute journey I started to feel sick, no doubt due to the small size of the boat but the sight of Rhodes in the distance managed to keep me focused and we gradually pulled up into the harbour.

The English Turkish Riviera

Marmaris, Turkey