After five weeks at that wonderful beach near Datca in Turkey, I felt like it was time to move on. For the first time on my journey I had an plan: I had decided to travel to Cyprus, stay there for 95 days before returning to Turkey for another 90 days. This would give me a warm winter and the opportunity to explore the east and northeast of Turkey, Georgia, and Armenia in spring and summer.
I asked some new Turkish friends for a recommendation on where to go dancing on New Year’s Eve. They suggested a small town by the coast, so I headed there. Upon arrival, I discovered that the town was a hot spot for tourists, filled with holiday apartments, hotels, bars, restaurants, a harbor, and a promenade. It was a proper little “concept town”. Although that place felt pretty alien to me, I decided to stay there to have a chance to meet some nice people and have a dance after my time in nature.
In the evening, I met Isa and Arne. They were traveling and living in their all-wheel-drive VW van and on their leisurely way to India. I felt connected to them from the moment we met. We spent the evening and the night talking about a lot of things, including living in a community on a sustainable farming, being human, traveling, and all the other stuff. I enjoyed our conversations a lot. Later that night, we went to a bar and chatted for hours with a friendly Turkish woman. Just when I started to dance a little, the music stopped at 1 AM. I didn’t know about the rule, but the bars weren’t allowed to play music after 1 AM. So I continued hanging out with the others and having a good time. By the end of the night, I had drunk more beer than for years, I guess. I felt good but the next day I took it easy.
After a day of relaxation, I headed south towards Cyprus. Isa and Arne, who had left the day before, had told me about a great hot thermal bath at a stunning lake. When I arrived, I ran into them again. They continued their journey, while I headed to the thermal bath, which looked like an alien spaceship. I spent hours soaking in the hot water. After months without a hot bath that felt awesome.
The next day, I went on a hike, explored ancient ruins, and took a ferry across a river. The ferry was very small, and when it was Rosinante’s and my turn, we had to drive slightly on the loading ramp to make room for two more cars. I had never been on such a tiny ferry before and although our ferry was very far from it, it remembered me on these super adventurous videos about little motorboats that carry jeeps across rivers in Asia and South America.
The places I had found on the Marmaris peninsula were great, but the next beach I found was truly incredible. After reaching the end of the peninsula, I drove east and checked out several places along the way. I passed through mountains, down into coves, up mountains again, down to the next cove, and along the coastline, but none of these places felt like my new home. After a couple of hours of driving, I grew tired. I headed to the next potential home spot, and the path led me through a forest on a slightly off-road forest road. Only a few kilometers away from my destination, I had no internet connection, which was a concern because at that point I desperately wanted to continue my music production courses and stay in touch with friends. But as soon as I reached the beach, I knew immediately that this would be my home for a long time. It was amazing! Located deep in nature at the other end of the forest, without any signs of human development, and the internet connection was perfect.
I thoroughly enjoyed my time at this beach and spent it doing many things I enjoyed: making music, playing the cajon, bo staff training, hiking, writing, reading, meditating, yoga, communicating with friends online, and having tea and nuts with the people who occasionally visited this magnificent beach.
Making tea and sharing nuts, thoughts, and stories was one of my favorite things to do. During my time at that beach, I was reading the books “A Psalm For The Wild-Built” and “A Prayer For The Crown-Shy” by Becky Chambers. I loved these books (like maybe all of her books). These books feature a monk who travels around in a tea wagon. In every settlement the monk encounters, he builds a tea place and people come to have tea that he mixes individually for them based on their emotional state. If they like, they may tell him about their lives and the things that are bothering them. The monk would listen to them wholeheartedly and be there for them, but he wouldn’t give much advice. I felt like that was exactly what I would like to do. Later that day, when I came back to the beach from a hike, I heard loud emotional Turkish music. There was a Turkish guy drinking beer and listening to that music. I waved and smiled, he waved me over, gave me a beer, and told me for hours about the trouble he had with his family. All via Google Translate. Although it was beer instead of tea, for that time, I felt like a tea monk, and it felt good.
One day, I hiked along the beautiful single trail that led in both directions along the coast. After an hour, I reached the next big cove. In that one, there were two small buildings and I was curious if anyone lived there. Down at the beach, I met Masoud and we had a great connection from the start. He had come from Iran, was traveling and hiking, and had attended the Rainbow gathering, an event I had also considered attending, but I had been in Bulgaria at the time of the gathering. Now he was living with a friend in a minimalistic hut of a Turkish guy at that beach and was enjoying life. In the hut, there was a poster of Don Quixote and his horse, Rosinate, which I found to be quite funny. We had a great time talking about everything, eating, and making music. He had been playing the setar since he was a little boy, and his playing was beautiful. I recorded some of it. Maybe I can put the recordings into an organic house song at some point. We also talked about how we could stay longer in Turkey than the 90 days we were allowed to. I had researched and had found that for a longer stay, one would need a Turkish address.
On another day, I met his friend Ali and we connected instantly as well. Every week, I would get new supplies from Datca, the next town, and sometimes I brought some things for my Iranian brothers as well. We had a lot of fun, deep conversations and one time when the Turkish owner of the hut was around, we helped collect olives. I love my Iranian brothers, and I hope to meet them again somewhere in the future. Perhaps in Iran at some point.
On another day, a group of about twenty hikers arrived at my home beach. I was relaxing and reading on the beach when one of them approached me and Rosinante. It turned out that he was German and Turkish and had recently moved to Datca, the nearest town to the beach. We talked about the beauty of Turkey and the beach where we were. I told him that I really enjoyed Turkey and would love to stay longer than the ninety days that I am allowed to. Without hesitation, he offered that I might use his address for my temporary residency (aka Ikamet) application. We went to his hiking group and talked to some other guys who were experienced with the process of obtaining a temporary residency in Turkey. They gave us a contact to another woman who was helping foreigners with the process of applying for an Ikamet. With the guys from the hiking group, we had a beautiful conversation about traveling, life, reality, Zen, yoga, and love.
When I went to Datca to get some supplies, I met with Vedat and the super friendly and helpful woman who was helping people to get an Ikamet. More on that topic in another post.
Vedat and I met every week in Datca and had a wonderful time together. We talked about everything, relaxed, had walks around Datca, and always had lunch at Baba Restaurant (find Baba Lokantası on Google Maps). I loved Baba! The food there was so authentic and delicious. Although I very rarely eat meat, I had Köfte! And the prices were incredibly cheap. For a big lunch for two people including deserts and unlimited bread and water we paid about six Euros. And visiting Baba reminded me of my favorite lunch restaurant back in Hamburg: Kardelen (find it on Google Maps)! I really enjoyed the time with Vedat, and after a few weeks, it felt a bit like home to come to Datca. When walking around in Datca, I also met other people that I had gotten to know on my home beach, and that made me feel connected to this place as well.
One evening, after sunset, I saw two dark objects swimming in the ocean, and after some time, the objects made it to the beach. They were two divers who had been hunting for fish. While having some tea and nuts together, we suddenly noticed a swordfish swimming not far away from the beach in the strong light of the moon. It was a magical sight, like a creature from a fairy tale. Although the divers had been in the water for already five hours, they headed back again for some night hunting.
On several occasions, I was visited by the forest department and military police. It was an interesting experience. I had a conversation with the forest department about the beach and the plans that some investors had for it. They wanted to build a hotel complex on it. The guys from the forest department were not happy about that and were trying to prevent these plans from happening.
The military police were searching for illegal immigrants that might have come via the surrounding Greek islands to Turkey. They always asked me if I had seen anyone. I had not, but I was thinking about what I would tell them if I had. When I told the captain of the police about the investor’s plans for the beach, he seemed not to be amused: he drew his gun, pointed at the ocean, and pretended to shoot.
Photo taken with FocosPhoto taken with FocosPhoto taken with Focos
Since I began traveling along the Mediterranean coast in Turkey, I’ve noticed that much of the coast is densely populated with cities, roads, and hotels. It has not been as easy to find secluded natural spots, as it is, for example, in Greece.
The satellite photos on Google Maps and Park4Night led me to believe that the Marmaris peninsula would be a beautiful spot to camp, and it did not disappoint. Upon arriving, I stumbled upon a place I dubbed “dinosaur land” due to the dense, prehistoric-looking forest. The area offered a great combination of dirt roads and hiking trails, as well as an abundance of wild thyme to pick. It was an amazing place.
Rosinante and I were the only campers there, but I had the opportunity to meet a lot of wonderful people. Being inspired by the Turkish hospitality, I began offering tea to anyone who passed by. Most people seemed to enjoy it and when they accepted the tea, I also offered them nuts and dried fruits. It was a simple yet beautiful way to connect with others. I had a lot of great and interesting conversations. With two Turkish guys I talked a lot about Turkey and music. One of them even taught me a finger roll technique and a new, easy oriental beat to play on my cajon.
There were many beautiful encounters in that “dinosaur land”, but one stood out as particularly special. One day, an older man came to the place where I was camping. He stopped his car, got out and sat down on a large stone a few meters away from Rosinante and me. I greeted him and he smiled back. I had learned that some older people don’t like or understand how to use Google Translate, so I simply made some tea and offered it to him along with some nuts and dried fruits. He smiled, touched his chest with one hand, and seemed to enjoy his tea. I don’t know if he was unable to speak, but he didn’t say a single word. He communicated through gestures, and I did the same. I sat down at a respectful distance, and we shared some quiet but equally beautiful moments together.
Months ago, while I was in Greece, I began listening to episodes of The Zen Studies Podcast. I recall that I had felt a pull towards Zen a couple of times in my life before, but I never delved deeper into it. However, while in Greece, that changed and I became increasingly interested in Zen practices such as meditation and study. I had been considering joining a Sangha (a group of Zen practitioners) for some time, and I began attending the meetings of Bright Way Zen. The meetings were beautiful, very honest, and authentic, so I continued to attend the Sunday meetings, which included meditation, a socializing round, and a Dharma talk, during which the Zen teacher would discuss a topic which would then be discussed in the group. Although I felt like my identification with Zen increased in a way, I enjoyed these inspiring meetings.
After some days in the “dinosaur land”, the military police came by and informed me that it was not allowed to camp in that spot in the forest. They were very friendly but declined my offer of tea and I did not argue with them. I had been living in my car for more than three years already, and this was the second time I was moved by the authorities.
I moved on towards the end of the peninsula and found some truly beautiful spots to stay, with wonderful hikes and interesting ancient sites to enjoy. My music production became increasingly intense, and I experienced a number of breakthroughs in my learning. Sometimes I spent twelve hours a day making music. First I kept loving it, but then it started to change.
