As I get deeper into my reminiscences about this hitch-hiking trip across Europe (and a bit of Asia), so I find myself becoming more whimsical in my writing. In a sense there are two journeys unfolding here – that of 1973 and the reliving of it in 2025. Fifty-two years separate the two journeys. The first was clearly geographical with strong elements of personal discovery and development. The second is psychological and philosophical, trying to shine a light into cob-webbed corners of the past, subject to the vagaries of memory (we actively create our realities, as reflected in our narratives – an example was my earlier conviction that I ended up in Istanbul by mistake, but there is no evidence of this in my notes from the time).
And the memories come of course with their own emotional soundtrack. These are emotions related to the events as recalled and the meta-emotions related to the meaning behind those recollections. Two important aspects come to mind in relation to the latter – there is no going back down this long road (how I would love to stride off with a backpack, but I am different and the world is different), and the road ahead is much shorter.
There are only so many ways to start the day and hence start my recollections. I wanted to start this post differently, but how this happened was not how I planned. I was pondering for a while, inspired by the great William Wordspeare…
I pondered lonely as a clown,
That jokes on high over Val’s and Bill’s,
When all at once I tumbled down
And hit my head on the window sill.
I did warn you about the whimsy! Maybe all this reminiscing is reactivating my adolescent brain – if it was ever deactivated, switched off, wrapped carefully and hidden in a corner?
I hit the road around 10.30 hrs (sorry, the delayed but ultimately the same boring start to my posts). It was another hot day. (I derive some comfort from the fact that even Samuel Pepys wrote about the start of his day, the weather and what he ate). I walked until about 14.00 hrs, with frequent stops to admire the view as I…
…climbed and wound my way up through the mountains; sea blocked from view, farmland and pines falling to my sides, mountains beyond; peasants and ponies and cattle working the fields; later, the sea in view, smell of pine.
I sang Leonard Cohen songs (luckily there was no one around) as I paced out the miles. I must have covered about 6 miles, all uphill. More than an album’s worth – maybe Songs of Leonard Cohen and Songs of Love and Hate?
I lit a fire and brewed myself two cups of tea. Tea without sugar and milk, but with a lovely view. A truck stopped around 14.45 hrs and a man got out with a badly cut finger. I applied some TCP (remember I included this in my travel inventory at the start of this series of posts?!) and a sticking plaster. The two guys gave me a lift to the outskirts of Gazipasa, about 15 miles short of Alanya. Another tricky situation – one took a fancy to my t-shirt, the other to my boots. I somehow negotiated my way out, probably helped by the fact we had stopped at a cafe.
I bought myself half a kilogram of Turkish Delight and some biscuits. The origin of Turkish Delight is still hotly (stickily?) contested, with Turkey, Greece and Iran claiming they invented it. It was certainly popular in the Ottoman Empire in the late 18th century. It is also known as lokum, from the Arabic word for morsel or mouthful.
I walked along the road for a bit and found a place that looked suitable for crashing down. I just waited, throwing stones at the beach but failing to hit the sea, and watching the sun set. However, around 18.00 hrs I picked up another lift in a truck that brought me as far as Alanya, where I found a hotel for the night.
I was in a contemplative mood as I wrote my notes in a cafe in Alanya this evening.
With hitching, you not only see the country, you become part of it; you mix with the workers, you share in its beauty, toughness, dirtiness etc.
I recalled that 2 years previously I was at my girlfriend’s house, and the following day I would be seeing Pink Floyd at Crystal Palace park, by the lake with strange inflatables and dry ice. I think Rod Stewart and the Faces were also on the bill.
I miss having anyone to cherish; except maybe Judith, but that’s so one way at the moment.
Not for the first time, both enchanted and annoyed by the early morning calls to prayer.
And tomorrow I will be sleeping in Turkey’s “capital of tourism” in the heart of the Turkish Riviera. See you there!
Psychologist on the Move 