Turkey has stolen my heart

It was bound to happen and finally did. I fell in love with Turkey. I suspected it would, and although I thoroughly enjoyed myself in this beautiful country for the first 10 days, it was after I left my organised tour that I love affair really blossomed.

It started when I went to Patara Beach, which is rated by Lonely Planet as one of the worlds top beaches. I can see why: its quite challenging to get to, the village is down a dirt road that does not often see public transport, and from the village its a 30 minute walk to the beach. This means when you finally reach the 18km long beach after walking through millenia old ruins, you are greeted by almost no-one. The people that are there seem to be very local - lots of muslim families with the women in full garbs prancing and giggling in the water with their children. Its heavenly.

The love affair burgeoned further when I once again alighed onto a gullet (Turkish yacht) for a 4 day cruise from Fethiye to Olympos. I knew I was being a little indulgent: two yacht cruises in one week and all, but I was in the mood for decadence. My fellow passengers were all intelligent fun interesting people, and we leisurely spent the next four days swimming in the warm mediterranean sea, eating, drinking, playing cards, reading etc. We were especially blessed by the crew who were manning our boat: they were a family unit. The dad was the Captain, the mum the chef, and the two eldest sons - 17 and 20 years old - were the general ship hands. However, the mum and dad had to go to a wedding almost immediately, so we were left in the care of the two boys. Sounds precarious, but they were utterly delightful, and we all really felt we were privy to somethnig special. They were so warm and kind and clearly had a strong family bond.

The first impulses of love began when we visited St Nicolas Island, that had the ruins of an old church (said to be of the Santa Clause original). My words simply could not describe how beautiful this island was - from the high vantage point at the top I saw the evening sun paint the sea golden hues, and I saw the distant bays and coves glittering like jewels. We were able to roam all over the ruins and the island, and I shivered with excitement as I ran my hands over the old blocks of stone, wondering what kind of people lived here, pondering on how easy it would be to be holy in a place like this.

My love affair deepened the next night when we pulled into a little fishing port called Kas. It was quaint and cute, and we were only meant to be there for an hour, but the weather turned a little windy so the crew decided to dock there for the night. I was a little suspicious of the real motives - the wind wasn't that bad, and it turned out there was the annual Kas festival that night... but it suited me fine. We were lucky enough to be docked directly by the side of the stage where the Kas festival performance was to be shown that evening. So we spent the afternoon drinking gin and tonics on a terrace overlooking the bay and then spent the evening watching curious turkish opera performance while sprawled on our yacht. It was one of those moments when I step outside my body, look back at myself, and count myself extraordinarily lucky: I was perfectly happy.

When we couldn't deal any longer with the yelping that apparently is turkish opera, we all headed into town for the party that was the Kas festival. The air was warm, the people warmer, music and happiness in the streets everywhere. We spent the evening dancing away. Heavenly.

But the moment that true love hit was the next day. We pulled into a tiny fishing village called Kekova, that had no road access, only sea access. The village sloped sharply up to a high ruined fortress, the foreshore strewn with purple flowers and lush gardens. We all climbed up to the ruins, but whilst everyone else meandered off, I stayed dumbstruck. I sat on the top of the ruined fortress, staring in awe at the beauty around me. All around was sea, bays, mountains, ruins... and I was totally alone. I realised what I loved about Turkey was it was as rich in history and beauty as Greece, Spain or Italy, but was at this point in time still relatively undiscovered. Where else could I sit for 15 minutes on this pricelessly beautiful spot and be completely alone: no tourists, no tour groups, no souvenir shops... Where else could I climb up this rather dangerous old ruin that had no warning signs or gates or chains... It was at that moment that I realised I adored Turkey.

That night I slept on the top deck of the yacht, with nothing over me but a blanket of stars and a gentle warm breeze. I gazed at the Milky Way until I fell asleep, and then I awoke when the dawn sun teased me into a dozy alertness. I sat up, and felt awe. All I could hear was the sea gently lapping the boat, and the flag of the yacht flapping quietly. The dawn light had a tangible quality to it, and made the air shimmer.

So there you have it. Turkey is a country to be loved. It has stolen my heart and filled it with pleasure and joy.