Eastern Descent

My last days in Antalya were just as awesome as the first. I managed to rack up some more hours at the beach, and find a sweet spot to drink beer with people from the hostel, on an old staircase at some bluffs over the sea. 

I arrived in Kizkalesi after a very long (10 hour) bus ride. I actually arrived earlier than I thought I would. The lady I booked my ticket through didn't speak a lick of English; consequently I thought I would have to drive further to Mersin, change buses and backtrack an hour and a half. Thankfully the bus did end up going through Kizkalesi, and I saved myself a lot of time. The road there was pretty crazy, winding high along cliffs overlooking the ocean, the road barely wide enough at the turns to accommodate our bus and another car. 

Kizkalesi itself is an odd city. It's a Turkish vacation spot, mostly free of Westerners, which makes it an odd amalgamation of relaxation and eastern tourism. On the street of my hotel are about ten tattoo shops, lined up one after the other. And right next to the beach are rows of those punching bag score machines that class the place right up. I don't really dig the fact that you essentially have to pay to use the beachfront, as all the space along the water is leased out to cabana chair companies who charge 10 lira to use one. The Turkish people should add that to the list of things to protest.

I headed out to the Caves of Heaven and Hell today, just outside of the city. The Heaven cave (I think this one should have been the hell) was a steep descent down and ancient set of stone steps, past an old temple, that became more and more slippery the further you descended into the cave. I have Vibram soles on my shoes and I still had a hard time, I can't imagine how the regularly Turkish tourists in their sneakers managed. The cave is about fifteen degrees cooler than outside, and is very damp. The best and most eerie part of the cave was when you went right to the back of it and could hear the muffled sound of rushing water from a river running beneath the cave, a slow rumble that gave the impression you were descending into a dreadful place. And they named this one Heaven! I didn't try to go any further back into the cavs, due to the fact that I was alone and had 20% left on my IPod battery. The Hell cave was viewed from a platform above, and looks like a giant hole, although apparently there is another shaft that goes even deeper, but cannot be viewed from above.