Gobble Up Turkey

It’s All Patched Up

The now familiar call to prayer had us awake at 550, ready to face the challenges of what looked like a tough Day 1 to Kabak.

The now familiar breakfast, taken with a little less eagerness fuelled us up.

Unfortunately our host forgot to pick us up and it was nearly 945 before we arrived at the gates to the walk.

The air was full of hang gliders and little did we know we would be up amongst them in a few hours.

The track signage wasn’t great and no amount of training could have prepared us for the first leg of walk.

A snaking, steep and rocky track, sometimes only a metre wide and in one place supported by a tree branch after erosion had eaten it away, took us up to 800 metres. If only we had jumped aboard the chairlift we passed under early in proceedings.

Whilst the climb was tough the scenery all the way up was amazing with the coastline dotted with resorts and strings of sailing boats. From on high it didn’t appear many were swimming.

Doof  Doof music floated up to the top of the hill and we could hear conversation of hang glider pilots and almost touch them.

The distractions did not take away the difficulty of the track and there were frequent stops to catch one’s breath and take a drink.

There were not many people heading up who passed us, but it was like Pitt St coming down with loads of fit youngsters springing down the hill.

The surrounding mountains steepled up into the sky and there was still plenty of evidence of the earthquake in 50’s with huge areas of scree and tumble down boulders sitting above newly constructed houses.

Teaching  the top was a relief but not a respite as we soon tramped uphill on dirt roads. It was extremely difficult to maintain your rhythm.

We finally found a downhill section albeit rocky which led down onto road – hallelujah flat road. 

We then fell victim to the guide book which took us off the tarmac and onto an old track littered with fallen power poles-  who knows what caused them to fall, but they made progress difficult. The final

Uphill stretch of about 300 metres on a 1:3 gradient was nigh on impossible with little or no footholds.  The galling part was it popped out onto the road we deviated from. 

This first day is probably the toughest Day 1 of any walk we have done.

Back on the road and passed 30 kids of the goat variety coming unescorted up the hill.

After some solid downhill walking we reached the halfway point of today and squatted for lunch with a couple from Israel who were walking various segments of the Lycian Way.

Our spirit of excitement was lifted when we saw the last part to our next landmark was all downhill. They were shattered when after 100 metres it was back onto steep and rocky descents for about 3 kilometres.

It was 240 and with 3-4 hours of walking left and our spirits and physical condition waning we decided to bus for the last bit to Kabak.

Local bus arrived in 30 minutes and with help of a friendly local ended up at our hotel – a no kids joint with sensational views, a pool and cute wooden bungalows as accommodation. They must have known something about our trip to Versailles because we had a 4 poster bed with the attendant curtains.

Jane whizzed down to do some washing and I managed to take a tumble getting out of spa bath on a slippery floor.

Banged a few body parts and ended up with a 20-30cm cut in my knee.

Jane applied first aid and can only hope it gets better quickly and the Steristrips and tape keep it all together. If they don’t tomorrow might be a day at the beach and a cab to the accommodation.

Had a sumptuous Turkish feast for dinner next to a tour group of 14 women doing a laid back version of the walk for 4 days.

Let’s hope tomorrow brings brighter things.

Dressed to Kill

No news overnight on the luggage and a new alarm clock in the shape of a Call to Prayer had us up at 600am 

Pulled back the curtains and got a daylight view of the Travertine cliffs which were dotted with a swag of hot air balloons and hang gliders – twas truly spectacular

A quick shower and no time wasted working out what clothes to wear.

Down to breakfast and if this is atypical , we will need to either walk further each day or insult the hosts and not eat what is served up. Then again we could simply let out the belt a notch or two.

First job today, after booking bus tickets to Fethiye, was to get some suitable clothes to explore the ruins and swim in the Ancient thermal pools.

I lucked in early with some €7.5 ‘Nike’ board shorts which were the worst copies you would see.

The proper clothes store was up the hill. It was a Gucci store in the middle of nowhere and when Jane picked up a T-Shirt the girl said ‘ that is tour bus prices you are local guests it’s half price’. Even at half price it was ridiculously expensive so we headed further up the road and bought a swimsuit , shorts and thongs for Jane and hat and thongs for me for about $60, which was probably overpriced. But we needed them.

The ever keen eyed owner spotted another opportunity and shuttled us up to the ruins in his Mercedes for $5.

The ruins site was amazing and spread over a vast area in rocky steep hills. It seems to date back to at least 3AD .

The amphitheater with seating for a 1000 was in amazing condition and the steep steps were a bit too daunting to traverse.

Apollo and his mates lived here and there was a great sculpture of Cerebus the 3 headed dog, a favourite of Freddy Dupree.

There are so many pieces of artifacts just laying around the site and archaeologists were still on active dig sites.

Greatest hit of the day was the Ancient thermal pool which was supposedly a favourite of Cleopatra.

We donned our swimmers and spent an hour in this warm thermal pool with people of all shapes and sizes just floating around, dodging the odd 2000 year old rocks and getting a foot massage from the pebbled bottom.

There were enterprising photographers in the pool rustling up customers to have pictures in a whole range of places, 

Some trying to strike the mermaid pose could have been mistaken for beached sea mammals – but who am I to judge.

Out of the pool and it was down to the white Traventine pools which were cut into the cliff face and constantly fed by thermal water. 

They were beautiful to look at but some of the rocky paths tested old Mr Tenderfoots resilience and pain tolerance. The pools wended their way for about 750 metres along the cliff faces. There was even a canal going from top to bottom with running thermal waters in which many dangled the weary feet.

The end of the pools route led into the township where we grabbed lunch and listened to a very clever parrot imitate either an incoming email alert or the cafe’s microwave alarm. He also mimicked the call to prayer when it played at 100pm.

With hearts in our mouths we headed back to the Hotel and the thumbs up from owner was a heartening sign as he led us into baggage storage – Viola the bags had arrived and the split watermelons smile appeared on our faces.

Changed into fresh clothes and took minibus to the major terminal for our 4 hour trip to Fethiye.

There is only one word for the landscape – RUGGED- the only flat spots seem to be the roads Just on the roads they are as  mountains rugged but also windy. The majority of main highways appear to be getting a major overhaul.

Where there is flat land there ate heaps of market gardens, with much of the produce sold in roadside markets. An intriguing thing on trip was driver pulling  up to one, tooting the horn and owner running out with a cuppa – the ultimate drive through restaurant ,

Stopped halfway for a toilet and drinks break. Like many European countries this Eurasian  country has picked up the trait of charging for WC use- I must say not much is churned back into maintenance.

The driver did a fantastic job navigating his way up and down dale avoiding trucks, tractors And other farm vehicles, plus people constantly overtaking, on very narrow roads. 

About an hour  out of Fethiye a lot small satellite downs with newer houses started to appear, but it didn’t sto the chickens dogs and cats wandering the streets.

Use of mobiles whilst driving and no use of seatbelts seems to be the norm in Turkiye. That said did see a pullover stop manned by several  police, so they do monitor something.

Arrived safely and took a taxi to

our  new vew hotel, The Minu,  situated very centrally in an arcade and next to an unstoppable disco, which obviously complements the call to prayer. 

This is a seething tourist spot which I imagine has become very popular with Yanks given the US centric shops and fast food outlets. It was amazing to see your groups of 50 marching up and down the streets – not too many Aussies accents to date,

We went shopping to provision up for day 1 of the walk, knocked back a pint of my now favourite EFES Pilsner and headed home to

Finalise setting up our backpacks for tomorrow. 

Getting mildly excited  about walking and exploring this amazing country. After 3 months in the planning,.

aler

Keystone Cops Adventure

Awoken early with news we were leaving an hour early because you needed to be at airport 3 hours before the flight.

Left our beaut little Air B and B which had proved to be the ideal launch pad for our daily adventures.

Onto a crowded airport train, only to be off loaded after 3 stations because it got redirected mid journey. Luckily only a short delay and we we soon doing the terminal marathon to find check-n 

All worked out ok and our luggage was being sent through to Denizli , even though we had a 2.5 hour stopover programmed.

At least we knew where our gate was because it was next to where we started our journey. Security and Customs were a breeze and we were at our gate well before the 1120 takeoff time.

Quick brekky and we were soon on board ready to head off to Istanbul.

As has been the case in Europe we were ready but plane wasn’t,’. 

It was I 2 or so hours of incessant repairs to he engine outside my window before we took off. We were a bit concerned as we had only factored in a 2.5 hour cutover.

Gods old Captain made up exactly no time and seemed to tease us even more with a never ending taxi to the gate,

We got off with 27 minutes left before flight took off with a 1500 metre gap between the two planes and needimg to go through transit, customs and security. 

Ran about 500 metres to transit area where woman waved us through saying ‘I think they will hold for you’ . Another 500 metres to Customs  where we scooted through into Security. 

After removing nearly everything I had on and shoving everything  back into the backpack and having no time to rethread the belt the next 500 metres could only be from a Keystone Cops script.

Here is a fat 70 something backpack in one hand and holding up pants with the other , ducking and weaving people on the travelator. At some stage it involved  runnig on one in the wrong direction and wondering why progress was so slow and people were waving  and pointing at me.

I can’t imagine what tailgunner Jane was thinking of her fearless leader. On top of that neither of us had run that far in years.

A last ditch sprint down the gangway and on with about 3 minutes to spare, 

Thank God we could sprawl out in the extra legroom seats. With breath caught we spent most of the flight wondering if ground staff were so nimble and got our bags on board.

Whilst getting darker we were starting to see the terrain we were likely to tread in the coming days wondering if Sherpa Tensing’s relatives might like a job.

Arrived in Denizli and found the non existent Customs or Security and  a baggage carousel full of bags except ours.

Time with airline staff established they were still in Istanbul and might come in the next couple of days . Not news we wanted but nothing we could do.

Found our shuttle and enjoyed a quiet trip with our two fellow  Russian passengers.

Arrived at our Pammukale hotel and got some great support from the hosts. Our room was great and had a perfect view of the Tramentine cliffs and the ruins of Heraklion where Apollo had resided.

A couple of beers calmed the nerves a bit and went to bed to toss and turn thinking of all the plans we could put in place if baggage did not arrive ,

Walk and Wonder 

We abandoned the trip to Giverny to see Monet’s  Garden in favour of wandering around the City.

Did some pre buying of tickets for tomorrows trip to the airport then went down and looked at the Pompidou Centre which is reverse engineered with all of the utilities on the outside and colour coded.

Moved down through the Bastille area which was abuz with Gypsy markets and gave them a miss.

Next it was a walk along the St Martins Canal which was full of an assortment of commercial boats and houseboats. Plus a few fishermen trying their luck.

A short walk along the cobblestone path next to Seine along with joggers, cyclists

and toursists. Fascinating mix of people , with one innovative homeless guy building a quaint garden edged with upside down bottles – great recycling.

Over the Seine onto the little island and then Notre Dame. It was heartbreaking to see the fire damage in such an comic building but pleasing to know the World had donated €900,000,000 towards its restoration in time for the Olympics in  2024. It’s just one of many historical sites being renovated.

Despite the damage it still remains majestic.

Searched unsuccessfullly

in the forecourt for Ground Zero from where all distances are measured in Paris.

Wandered further and  found the Shakespeare and Co bookshop which was a home to many struggling authors who eventually became famous, such as Hemmingway,

Walked the words of old song Where Do You Go To My Lovely as  we passed Ave St Michel, The Sorbonne and bars with people sipping brandy. We didn’t see the Aga Khan.

Searched high and  low for a recommended restaurant called Le Baux which did not turn out too flash and had none of the specialties Jane was after.

Instead we enjoyed lunch in a  terraced restaurant , chatting with some ex-pat Irish ladies.

Must say our waitstaff – a Cuban American still thought she was in IUS providinding shit service and still expecting a tip. She locked out.

We decided  on a whim to go  to Arc de Triomphe  and see if our unused tickets could be redeemed. Luckily they were and after 300 winding stairs we were on top enjoying a panoramic view of Paris, with 300-400 other tourists.

It was a good finish to a day of sightseeing. 

Went to dinner at a restaurant we thought served Jane’s favourites Croix xxxcxxx and French Onion soup. Slightly disappointed that there was no soup and the Croix was nothing more than a ham and cheese toastie. At least it was washed down with happy hour priced drinks which get served for about 6-7 hours.

A quick trip to the Post Officr then it was home to pack.

Saturday 24th September

After many hours of typing over the last couple of days I managed to lose all of the blogs for the weekend and can’t work out why or even blame an airline, can just hope I temember

Never Trust Packets of White Powder

Another busty day ahead with our planned trip to the Palace at Versailles With a bit of washing to be done before leaving it meant a frantic search for washing powder. There it was where Jane left it right on top of the tea bags – no wonder yesterdays cup of tea was so bad with that ‘sugar’ in it. No need for the Silly Old Man Look from Jane I felt stupid enough.

We played train lotto and arrived at Regionsl railway platform to find chaos with a 35 minute wait followed by a cancellation- not only planes we have problems with.

Many tourists headed for buses or home but we held on to be tewsrded with a reinvented train in 5 minutes, with plenty of seats.

We arrived at the sprawling 800 acre estate with 3000 other people. The palace whch housed 6000 people in its hayday was spectacular both inside and out, with Louis XIV’s penchant for opulence quite obvious.

The inside was full of paintings, sculptures , furnishings and artifacts, with the Hall of Mirtors a standout.

After a sensory overload we wandered the estate full of of its, canals, lakes, forests , fountains with choreographed music and a couple of smaller palaces and hunting lodges to boot.

The amazing thing was that with all these recreational areas you could not sit down and have a picnic. Our fare was to be eaten elsewhere- our apartment on the bed.

With rain starting and an understanding of why the people revolted against the aristocracy we headed back to home.

After no Wi-Fi at palace we lost our chance to book tickets for the Spurs Liverpool match on Tottenham website.

The only option was to defer to a tour provider to pay an undisclisable price for two tickets on the 3 rd Level of grandstand in a box. At least we were in.

Spent the afternoon roving the markets and plonking ourselves in a cafe bar sipping cocktails watching the crowds go by before heading off for a dinner by the Seine.

Wednesday 21/9/22

After a very relaxing flight with 3 movies and a couple of light meals we hit the tarmac at 525 in Heathrow, happy to arrive but completely unaware what the rest of the day was to bring.

All of the worry about delays in customs, lost baggage and general airport chaos was dispelled in the matter of 30 minutes. We were soon headed for a terminal change for the 1 hour 20 flight to Paris, albeit 7 hours waiting, courtesy of us abandoning idea of catching train and choosing to fly.

Plenty of walking around and coffee for a few hours before trying our luck to book in early. Lucked in and at least we were in the right terminal with heaps more things to see and do.

More coffee, more food, more walking and a couple of hours chatting to other travellers and it was time for boarding. That’s when it all began.

Lots of info saying plane was delayed was followed by an announcement of “if Jane Westley and Danny Lee are in the gate area please come to the desk” First thoughts of an upgrade were dashed when told that at original check in we had been bumped to the 500pm flight. Thankfully we were squeezed onto the flight, but not sure which flight luggage was on.

Another series of delays with incoming flight and finally around 215 we were ferried out and loaded onboard BA314 bound for Paris.

Bound for Paris was the intent but not the outcome. After more excuses than a beaten jockey in the ensuing 1 .5 hours Captain advised that technical problem could not be solved and they were sourcing a new plane with new take off time off 440pm.

With a squillion whinging Poms and arrogant Yanks tailing along we went back to the terminal readying ourselves for round 2.

Sourcing a second aeroplane was much easier than expected, getting it ready was another thing . Finally on board and clicking the seatbelt in, mildly hopeful. we would make our 800pm appointment with the Arc d’Triomphe.

All checks completed and plane ready to go, until some guy in a High Viz jacket arrives and announces two crew had to be replaced. Well that got the Indian’s restless and they grumbled for an hour until 620 when the flight took off to a volley of clapping and cheering..

The smooth flight was followed by an extended taxi process and at 843 French time we walked off the plane.

French Immigration was a shambles, but not the baggage and after an hour or so we were in the airport concourse, looking for the train.

Aa 30 minute walk, 20 minute ticket buying process and we were off, tired and knowing 46 hours were going to be worth it in the end.

Found our station and dragged the bags through the streets which were full of drinkers and diners, whetting our appetite for what was to come.

We reached the Air B and B , so we thought and thankfully 2 guests let us in. Dragged the bags up a winding and narrow staircase to our 3rd floor apartment.

Alas, we were keyless and no sign of the key box. Frantic calls to owner and Jane was off on a trek to get the keys whilst I lugged bags down to the 1sr floor and sat waiting.

Jane arrived back and we were into our lovely apartment ready for nothing but a soft bed after 48 hours since leaving home.

Hoping these misadventures are not setting the scene for rest of the trip.

Thursday 22nd September

Titillating Day

Awoke slightly less stressed and headed off on the first leg of a very busy day.

Went for the French breakfast with a coffee and croissant at the local cafe and then a 400 metre walk down to walk along the Seine.

The streets were abuzz with cars and the no traffic rules cyclists who seemed to delight in ignoring any lights or zebra crossings.

Very early in the walk we got our first close up look at Notre Dame on the Left Bank and then a distant look at the Eiffel Tower. We wandered around the forecourt of the Louvre which was already seething with tourists. Had our first exposure to a trickster , but shooed her off pretty quickly still with wallets etc intact.

We wandered down to the Champs Elleysee and took in all of the high end shops, most with huge crowds waiting to get in .

We were surprised they had legalized drugs in Paris and could not resists entering The Drugstore only to find it was a cleverly named retail store.

Arrived at the Arc de Triomphe, where we were supposed to be yesterday and it was relatively quiet other than the hundreds of cars- I could just see Chevy Chase doing laps. Like in the movie.

We wandered through some picturesque backstreets where many apartment buildings has spectacular rooftop gardens. When you complain about Sydney home prices, have a bit of sympathy for the Parisienne’s . One b from loft apartment were neigh on $A1.8M.

Got to the forecourt of National Library which gives a panoramic view down to the Eiffel Tower. It was packed with hawkers selling trinkets that would barely last till you got to the end of the street. There was the usual thimble and pee people working the crowds with there cronies having plenty of dummy bets. Tourists still fell for the ruse.

We had some time to spare and lunched in a street side cafe where elbow room was at a premium, like all of the cafes, bars and restaurants in town. Lunch was pretty sumptuous and beer and wine were remarkably cheap.

We worked our way down to Eiffel Tower and joined the queues for our designated viewing.

We had paid to go to the top but somehow staff shortages meant the top was closed and second viewing platform was it.

You would not know Covid existed in Paris only about 1 in 50 people wear masks – none of the 40 or so we shared the lift ride did.

The view was spectacular on a pretty cloudless day and we were able to work out the geography of the city in preparation for the rest of our sightseeing.

Finished the tour and popped down onto the riverside to take a cruise down river to take a different perspective of the left and Right bank. It was a relaxing way to see things and enjoy life at a relaxed pace.

That ended the quiet touristy part of the day. We headed home to don the glad rags to attend the Moulin Rouge show with tickets gifted by Jane’s kids.

Worked out the travel route and headed to the Metro for the train ticket buying lottery. We managed to get around the language barrier fine, but I didn’t get through the ticket barrier test and had to scramble on hands and knees like a Gypsy fare evader to get to the other side. I dared not look at locals faces as the one one Jane’s was enough to say ‘stupid old man’.

Managed to get the tight train and scale the stairs to the Metro exit which popped out 150 metres from Moulin Rouge.

Arrived a bit early so popped into local bar for a couple of very cheap drinks , then it was on the line ready to enter with enormous excitement and expectationwe joined about another 400 people in a theatre with beautiful decor and more than 100 people ready to wine and dine you before the entertainment started.

We had spectacular seats within touching distance of the stage which guaranteed a close up and personal view of all the dancers- male and female. We sipped on a lively three course meal and a bottle of champers before the entertainment started around 900pm.

What a spectacular! One didn’t know where to look as the girls danced in various splendid outfits doing different routines over the next 90 minutes.

They all definitely had nice sets of teeth from what I recall.

There was other fabulous acrobatic shows put on by 3 other groups of entertainers… While despite suffering severe sleep deprivation I don’t think I missed any of the show. It is surely a life time memory I will treasure.

As we were leaving around 11 the audience was lining up for the next show. Those dancers must be highly trained athletes to do that twice in a couple of hours.

Despite all of the stimulation it was a real effort to stay awake on the train ride home and for the second night in succession it was clothes off and crash into bed.

Friday 23rd September

Food Glorious Food

Had the sleep of the dead and awoke a little less jet lagged. A quick get your own breakfast courtesy of supermarket and we were off for a walk along the Seine to the Louvre for the first tour of the day.

We joined the throng at the front gate and were soon into the glass entry pyramid and then following the conga line to the room with the Mona Lisa portrait on show. We were with the first 50 or so to get in, so we got a great view and didn’t get shooed along by staff.
it was a nice moment to relevt on such an iconic painting and be able to tick off another bucket list item. We wandered about the various galleries and exhibitions for a few more hours taking in as much culture as the mind would allow. The opulence in which the likes of Napoleon lived was breathtaking, you can understand with the very distinct society of have’s and have not’s why the people revolted.

After the culture overload we headed back home through some of the backstreets of Paris where the problem of homelessness was very obvious.

Once home we prepared for our afternoon / evening sojourn to the Montmartre district, which is the highest point in town.

Now experts on traversing the Metro we headed off – oops did I say experts? and promptly got on a train going in the wrong direction. Bought a second lot of tickets and navigated s couple of last ne changes before laboring up 300 steps to get out of the Metro – guess being highest point in town we should have realised it.

The station, like several others around town, had a little merry go round with not too many passengers but lots of shrieking wannabes being placated by parents.

The top of station steps did not mark the top of the hill and we were soon on an hour and a half walking tour of the area, with Jane as the faithful guide. Passed a lot of historical points including a studio where Picasso painted and lived, the only two working windmills in Paris, the famous man in the wall sculpture where it’s said you get good luck if you rub his left hand. The shiny hand indicated many had sought good fortune and I joined the group. Another landmark was the mural of the rabbit jumping out of the pot on the stove.

Then it was up to the cathedral where in usual fashion the church had built the biggest and best with an absolutely amazing view over the City.

The forecourt was packed with tourist snapping selfies to the spectacular backdrop.

What goes up must come down meant climbing down a seemingly endless set of stairs , luckily without a fall, unlike a bleeding schoolgirl and an embarrassed iverdressedvAsisn tourist who thought the smooth bike lane was the go.

We still had an hour and a half to kill before our food tour so we settled into some people watching accompanied by a couple of cocktails.

Bang on 600pm we met our the tour guide who was of Japanese descent but looking bed in France most of her life. It was interesting that even when she spoke French the letter R proved linguistically challenging.

Along with 8 others we embarked on a food odyssey with first stop the cheese shop who had 101 different varieties to choose from- all made from unpasteurized milk. Next up was the chocolate and macaroon shop where we tasted a couple of varieties of each from an eclectic selection if flavors. Next it was the butcher where the guide gathered up a selection of meets for charcuterie board we would enjoy later. A quick stop for a taste test of crepes was next it was a bit uncomfortable with a beggar with child on board asking for help. A Good Samaritan shouted her a crepe and cup of milk for the baby.

The next was the boulangerie where we collected bread and pastries. Fully armed we headed to a tasting room situated in a cellar below a restaurant.

A tricky walk down a narrow and windy staircase and we were sitting around the table like a band of deciples ready to enjoy hopefully not our last supper. Though it sounds like a huge feast the portions were small ie a taste of Paris not a meal

We enjoyed the full gamut of treats , including 6 different cheeses and three different meats, plus chocolate eclairs all accompanied by champagne, red and white wine, dessert wine and a cleansin cognac before waddling off through the red light district to catch a train home and follow what was now becoming a ritual – undressing and collapsing into bed.

Tuesday 20/9/22

The day has finally arrived and it’s an early rise to do one more check of the packing before waiting for taxi to take us to airport.

After all of the hullabaloo about crowds at Qantas we were planning to arrive around 830- 2 hours before the scheduled flight.

taxi arrived on time to ith the news an accident had disrupted traffic in and around the usual route to the airport. This started a hell raising journey at two speeds – flat out and stop. Hansel and Retelling would have consumed a few bags of breadcrumbs trying to map our route.

All said am done there was no need for panic with traffic smoothing out and hardly a soul at the airport.

The only real delay was a pat down by the security guard after something in the jacket set off the sensors.

Got our fill in the Business Lounge and on the plane and an often bumpy ride was over in around 4.5 hours.

Only 5 more hours of Qantas hospitality before we headed off from Perth to London.

Great present before heading off was a call from Dr saying results from last weeks operation showed no more new growths and the BCG treatment is working. Got to go through 3 more treatments the day after arriving home.

Just going through the usual set up challenges. Can write blogs but can’t seem to post. Having another crack

With just 10 days to go it’s time to start setting up the blog for our upcoming trip to France, Turkey and UK with the headline act being our 4 week walk along the Lycian Way. The walk starts in Fethiye and finishes in Antalya, tracking the southern Mediterranean Coast.
it will be preceded by 5 nights in Paris and followed by time in Cappadocia, Istanbul and then off to London.

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