Agva - Sand and camping between the two rivers
Trip Start
Jul 15, 2009
1
13
62
Trip End
Dec 21, 2009
Where I stayed
Campsite - Not far from Agva
Agva, Istanbul, Turkey
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
And it was no different to Europe. It was only the knowledge that we have finally spanned a continent, our final destination, that put a spring in our step and a whistle on our lips as we asked our way through the throng among the buses: "Agva? Aova? Augva? Where is Ahva? Do you know Ağva" “Oh Ağva! - yest, phuuty, left, phu phu” whistled the man as he pointed.
We finally got there, to get the 2'o clock bus, Jon got tickets, we moved in the shade, and waited for the bus driver to arrive, to open the doors to the little blue and green Halk Otobus, or Half Autobus as I call it. We hopped on, sat down in the sweltering heat and prayed that we start moving soon, to get the air moving in the thing a little. Even though it did not have opening windows. It had air conditioning though, as we bumped along the hilly, bumpy narrow roads lined by brush and stones, and red firs, and makeshift, cool looking houses in small villages, from where every now and then we picked up a passenger, who paid their ten liras, and stood for the rest of the journey unless somebody gave up their seat for them.
It took us the better part of three hours to get to our destination, meandering through landscapes I have never experienced before, but always thought would exist in the Mediterranean – Cyprus or Greece. At places, the road was flanked by giant fingers of stone, where the water drained down from the hillside and cut crevasses into the soft lime-stone, creating effects like paws and fingers of small giants.
The sun was still high in the sky at 5PM, when we hit the beach. We saw it appearing from the distance, it's dark blue and green like a gem amongst the greens and the vast blue of the sky, and soon we were puffing along one of the two rivers that encompassed the small village of Ağva, towards the sandy beach littered with lounging chairs and sunbrellas. The little town was just a collection of houses, bars, motels, restaurants, boats boatstaurants, kebab shops and supermarkets. We walked down the beach, towards the sea, unloaded our bags, and set up camp on two lounging chairs, got changed and sunbathed for about 20 minutes. I had the urge to go explore, as our plan was, if we could find one, to go to a campsite, set up the tent, and if we caught fish by then, to cook it over the open flames or embers, wrapped in tin foil. My exploration was cut short, as I was flagged down by the Austrian girls, who were having fruit down on the walkway to the lighthouse (one of a pair that lit the entrance to the river), in a cafe. They said hello, and explained that they got there late in the evening, and set up a broken tent against the side of the restaurant, and that Katharina slept outside, if you can call a night of angry dogs barking at you from close by.
They said they heard about two campsites, one in either direction, though they did not know where. I said I'll go check out the town a little, find out about camping and fishing, and Jon and I will meet them there in a little while. I did not manage to find anything out, so I got Jon, started talking to a Muslim lad who was raking the sand in front of the bar, about fishing and camping, and as far as II know, he wanted to tell me that Allah saves, and otherwise I'll go to hell. Then he showed me a party sign, banged head with me, asked me about some English phrases on his mobile, which I mimed to him, and we parted ways. We walked over to the girls, past their bedraggled sand-ridden tent, which was tied tenuously to the restaurant, and chatted for half an hour, before some Turkish people joined us with their girlfriends, who gave directions to the girls earlier, and then soon after, the two bus drivers who brought the girls to Ağva the night before.
Word followed pictogram, and after two lovely Balik Ekmeks (fish in a bread), cups of tea, and a beautiful red sunset later we were on our way in a little bus free of charge towards the campsite, the hills dark against the darkening red sky to our right. Jon and I probably would have spent the night up there, no tent necessary if we were on our own.
When we go there, we were informed that the camping is 30 liras per tent per night, to which we replied that we have only one tent, and we'll be OK. Sure enough, after much deliberation about the placement of our tent (too close to the other tents, too close to the toilet, not in the shade, etc etc, we set up in a likely spot, and magically the guitar and the flute appeared, two rugs came out of nowhere, the lights were turned on, and we were sitting under the white leaves of the olive trees, not speaking much, but having a good time. Christina probably got a mild case of sun-stroke, and was not feeling too good. I enjoyed the night, despite not saying more than three words, I wondered around aimlessly through the campsite and down to the beach, the cliffs to my left still white against the setting moon, which lit up the crashing waves pleasantly in front of me. Looking up, there was a full array of stars above, and the quiet murmur of the campsite was lost behind the breaking surf.
It was nice sitting there in the sand, on my own, not feeling the need to talk, the girls happy with their music and Jon with his musings. When I got back, the girls were sittng with a turkish family, their little girl quiet and slightly upset in the middle, probably thinking “who are all these strangers?” while I was thinking “How did we move up here” - but it was explained swiftly, they invited us over for tea and pumpkin seeds. And we spent the rest of the night there, the girls chatting away flicking through their notebooks 8 of us around a little park bench, pictographs to miming, and the night wore on quietly. I felt like I was in a nativity play, the sounds were muted, dulled down and it felt more like an inside area than a wide open space...
I went to bed soon after. I felt no need to push myself through the tiredness. The camping space owner was ready to call us a taxi to order a beer for 5 liras each but we decided that we're good without for the night, so that became the one night I did not have beer on the entire trip since we left Romania. We decided we'll let the girls sleep in the tent, I grabbed my sleeping bag, set up nicely on a rug outside under the thick foliage, and slept like a baby. I awoke once during the night to the sound of rain, and thought I'd move in to the tent, but found that Jon was sleeping on one porch, and the other was full of our stuff, so I went back to my rug, with my very own dog sleeping at my foot, and another yawning on the other carpet across from me, and slept through its five minutes of light mist.
Comments
checkity check
hey hey,
just read through your hamam story, that's 'cracking' boys! ha ha, hell of an experience eh?!
let me know if you need anything, will check back soon!
Re: checkity check
Check-back dude, cheers for the comments, it's good to get some feedback! Yeah, the hamam was wicked, I feel like I need another right now. The bags are too heavy, my ankles and knees are taking a battering! But whatever doesn't break them, will only make them stronger.
Anyway, it would be nice if more people wrote feedback, so I know that they are reading it!
Speak to you soon buddy!