The best part, obviously, was feet in water.

06.08.08 1110 The next day we were up obscenely early (actually, we were up obscenely early pretty much every day; I would not have minded this that much had our days not been upwards of twelve hours most of the time; in fact, I would have preferred longer days that started later) to take a guided tour up the Karadeniz (Black Sea) coast. It was beautiful up there: windy roads around mountainous terrain that cascaded over cliffs into the sea all of a sudden. We drove to a small village where a bunch of men were gathered outside and playing instruments, presumably for us?

One played something that was definitely not a soprano sax, but it looked like a silver clarinet and sounded like one. Actually, maybe it is a soprano sax. Nevertheless, after this reception and our complete and utter avoidance of a very friendly dog who was obviously carrying both fleas and the mange, we walked down a windy road and crossed the Dry Stream, or some name like that, which, well, dries up in the summer. Most of our group stayed at what was to become our picnic area at the next river crossing, but a few of us wandered up on a small hike into the hills.

The hike was beautiful, and I really enjoyed rock climbing and being my gangly, tomboyish self for once.

Splish-splash!

Moo!

Respect for this tree, which tumbled its roots over rocks to reach ground.

Another stream...

This was not, in fact, a gate; it was a fence. I slipped through the first and second rung, because I couldn't be bothered to climb over it, and I'm skinny enough to slip placed like that.

Once we cleared out, the cows continued to graze. Moo!

Corn!

Okra?

Aw, Madison and Cristina, sitting on the bridge in the picnic spot (you can see people in the distance on the right, and the barbecue is on the left, but you can't see that).

This is a sycamore! Behold how it looks like a cedar or something at its bottom bark.

 

I did not enjoy, however, the overabundance of water bottles littering the everywhere.

I started picking them up, and soon had to solicit the help of another backpack because I didn’t have any more room in mine. Despite really neat rock enclaves and pools of water, I came back with a foul taste in my mouth and poison ranting on my lips. Littering makes me so angry, and as I mentioned before, I wish that each person who littered could have his house littered, too. If people invested in water bottles, then they would think twice about leaving something that cost 25 YTL in the wild. I just can’t comprehend this carelessness and conceit. What are people thinking when they do this? Are they thinking!? I had to scramble into rock caves to grab four of them at one point, including a 2L that was mostly full. Seriously, people, what the hell? Also, there were no recycling facilities when we got back, so I think that they were thrown away, alas. I had much more about which to rant, but I think that I’ll spare that. Humanity makes me a cynic.

Karadeniz, when we finally arrived, was crowded at the spot to which we went, but cleared out once we woke up from our naps in the sun. When we finally stopped walking for a spot, I asked, ‘Water?’ and only Alejandro joined me. I walked right in and dove under, but his Puerto Rican self was complaining a bit of the temperature (granted, he got under before I did). The water was at least five degrees centigrade warmer than the Atlantic to which I’m accustomed. It made me laugh to hear people talk of how cold it was... I went back in again later, loving the saltiness of the sea and how it makes my hair curl like that.

Our dinner on the drive back was delicious; I think that we ate at such a town restaurant that the whole family was cooking and lived in the back. Because we were so many, they had to run about asking help from the neighbours, also owning restaurants, to roll out dough to make our pastry things, which were the best that hocam had ever had, and us as well, but we are not exactly connoisseurs of the Turkish pastry thing with the stuff in it rolled up sort of flat. We had to scarf down the food, though, having only forty-five minutes, and I did quite a few shots of people's unwanted tea on the way back to keep from having to waste it.

The kitchen, yes, that's right, the kitchen:

 

Alejandro didn't have any silverware for his ravioli-type dish, so I gave him my tea spoon...

It's the last one down on the right, I think...or the second-to-last...

Driving back, I watched Karadeniz stalk us from behind hills and down ravines. It was always there in the distance, the setting sun darkening its waters as they reflected off the darker sky. I saw it, massive, ominous in the distance, waiting there like the formidable expanse that it has always been. This was strangely comforting, like having a large black dog appear out of nowhere as you wander the streets of Little Winging and the yards of Hogwarts.