Turkey and Greece (1996)

Five hours of traveling again, but the scenery was much better . . . first rather agrarian, with the now-familiar donkey carts and millet women, then mountainous with pine trees and beautiful pink flowers which filled the gorges as though they were rivers.

It was all a sham, however, as Marmaris was the pits. The Tijuana of Turkey, no question about it. The first hotel we tried seemed deserted, so we opted for something a bit more upscale. This didn't last long, however, as no sooner had I ducked into the shower when, apparently, fire broke out in a room three doors away. How did we know this? Not because any smoke alarm went off; not because any fire alarm sounded; not because anyone knocked on our door. No, while I was in the shower, guests at the hotel next door rushed onto their patios yelling and screaming. It took Mark a while to figure out what they were saying, but he eventually got the message and got me out of the shower. We grabbed some of our stuff (hey, I was not going to leave that rug behind[g>) and headed into the hallway where hotel staff members were running our way with fire extinguishers. We could smell the smoke and thus looked in earnest for the fire exits but could find none. Meanwhile, the staff completely ignored the actual guests . . . no one knocked on doors or pointed out the exits. Mark and I headed toward the elevators (the only exit we knew), knocking on doors as we went along, as did an Israeli couple staying in the room next door. We were surprised to find that they were still working--aren't they supposed to shut off so you don't get trapped? In any event, seeing no other way down, we took one. In the lobby, everything seemed normal, and when we asked for our money back, the staff was surprised. "Why? The fire will be put out soon." Sure . . . so it could smolder overnight and begin afresh, with no fire protection in the hotel at all? Not for me. And although the fire was put out within a half-hour, when we returned to our room to get the rest of our belongings, it was clear that the fire was a tad more serious than they let on . . . not only was everything smoke-filled, but you could see the black soot on the walls near the room that was ablaze.

At this point, rather desperate and tired, we cabbed it to a "resort" somewhat further up the coast, thinking that it had to be a decent place. Well, not quite. The room was small and dingy, the price exorbitant; what we got for our $2.00 in Yusufeli was far superior. In any event, after showings and eating the dinner which was included in the room rate, we walked down the boardwalk back into the main section of Marmaris. As I said, it was like being in Tijuana . . . loud music, touts that wouldn't leave you alone, boat trip salesmen that followed you, ugh! The truly sad thing, however, is that most people who come to Marmaris do it as a day or two trip from Rhodes because it is only a 45 minute hydrofoil ride. I shudder to think that Marmaris is their only impression of Turkey . . .