#I have most often had it while scrambling over rocks at the seaside

[airyairyaucontraire]

do you ever stop and assess your outfit based on how easy or difficult it would make things for you if an adventure began today?

[shannrussell-blog1]

Kangaroo Island, or K.I., is like a very compact Australia. Think crystal clear water, towering sand hills, winding creeks, limestone cliffs, hundreds of kangaroos, trees crawling with koalas, friendly locals, excellent seafood, and a chequered history.

Many a ship went missing on the dramatic coastlines of K.I. It’s unpredictable and a ‘four-seasons in one day’ kind of a place. It is also not as small as most people think.

There are a few companies that offer 1, 2 and 3-day tours of K.I. but I really struggle to understand how you would see the best of this magic dot of land in the Southern Ocean in such a short time.

If you really want to get a feel for the place and make every penny of your barge fee worth it, 7 days is perfect. Pack up your car, grab some mates and follow us on this 7-day adventure around Kangaroo Island.

There is so much to see and do in Kangaroo Island on a 7-day adventure!

A couple of things to consider first:

The barge is one of the most expensive in Australia. Look up ‘Kangaroo Island Sealink Ferry discount codes’, and you might just find a cheeky 10% off.

K.I. is wild, so download Willy Weather (or another reliable weather forecasting app) and get intimate with wind forecast and directions. The beauty of an island is that you can usually find shelter somewhere.

The majority of the roads that lead to the best places are gravel. These roads are actually pretty great, except for within the National Park. So, just consider what you are willing to put your car through.

If you are interested in visiting Seal Bay (loads of Aussie sea lions sunbathing), Kelly Hill Caves and spending a bit of time in Flinders Chase National Park, a Kangaroo Island Tour Pass may be worth your while.

Most campsites are council run, feature a drop-toilet, a small amount of rainwater, and on the rare occasion, a shower ($2 for 5 minutes). Council sites are about $17 per couple.

Lastly, check K.I.’s biodiversity rules and regulations. For example, you can’t take any honey products or potatoes to the island.

Purchase a KI Tour Pass ahead of time to explore Flinders Chase National Park with no dramas.

DAY 1

Rapid Bay – Cape Jervis – Penneshaw – Brown Beach

A good start to the trip, and to ensure you are not in a rush to the ferry terminal, stay a night (or more) at Rapid Bay on the mainland. With great squidding, beautiful water and caves to explore, this is a great place to get your holiday-mode switched on. Arrive thirty minutes prior to your scheduled ferry time and check-in. Loading on to the ferry often involves reversing in. If you are towing or just not comfortable with backing down on to the barge, the friendly staff at Sealink can do it for you. Just ask.

Avoid the rush to the ferry and stay the night before at Rapid Bay on the mainland.

When you hop off the ferry at Penneshaw, stop in at the Information Centre to pick up any maps, local knowledge and your K.I. Tour Passes. It will pay to ask them about local wineries, breweries and honey ice-cream to put on your culinary bucket list. If you are keen to fish before setting up camp, the marina just 500m down the road supplied us with some squid for an entree. We threw a couple of jigs around off of the rocks at the marina entrance.

Brown Beach is great for snorkelling, bird watching and stunning sunsets. The campsites are well protected and there are solar hot showers available. From here you can check out K.I.’s main surf beach, Pennington Bay.

Be sure to pack your snorkelling gear as they are plenty of rock pools to explore, like here at Browns Beach.

DAY 2

Brown Beach – American River – Emu Bay

Not far from Brown Beach is the American River. If you are a hunter-gatherer type you might like to try your hand at collecting Razorfish. American River is teaming with these shellfish all along the shallow weed beds at low tide. They are a bit of work, but fried up with a bit of a salt and pepper crust is really quite delicious. Or, you can just get your shellfish fix at The Oyster Farm Shop.

If like us, you decided to tow a boat over, this is the place to put it in. There is good crabbing and sandy patches that the King George Whiting love along the pylons heading out. American River also offers a well-protected campground with hot showers if you wish to stay longer. We also found it to be a great spot to wait out bad weather.

 Emu Bay is the perfect place to swim with dolphins.

Emu Bay was one of my all-time favourites. It’s the only beach on the island that you can drive on and set-up for the day. The sand is even hard enough for a lot of two-wheel drives if you are game. The Emu Bay dolphins are well-known regulars and we saw them cruise past almost every hour the morning we were there.

If you want to swim with dolphins, now is your chance. You don’t need to swim out far, they seem to love the attention and will soon be coming to you.

Emu Bay allows vehicles on the beach, so set up camp for the day wherever your heart desires!

DAY 3

Emu Bay – Stokes Bay – Snelling Beach – Western River Cove

Today takes you over the rolling hills of the north coast to some of the most pristine beaches in Australia. First stop, Stokes Bay. If you can read the signs that say ‘beach’ and follow the arrows, you will find the “secret beach”. The path was blasted out years ago and winds through the cliff with a couple of narrow sections, before opening up onto a secluded beach. A small rock wall creates a calm pool, safe for the whole family, whilst waves break along its other side.

Snelling Beach is a bit bigger and a lot more open. The rocks on the left-hand side of the beach offer some good fishing options. We managed to land a few salmon and some Tommy Rough with a bit of squid from day one.

If you love fishing, then Snelling Beach the place to go.

Don’t be deterred by the comments on Wikicamps about getting into Western River Cove. It does have some steep sections and depending on what road you come in on, it is a sharp turn toward the beach (something you may need to consider if towing). Great things happen at Western River, other people have said it too.

Maybe it is because it takes a certain type of traveller to be out exploring these parts, but we met some great people here, shared dinners and wet a line together in the dark of night.

The calm waters at Western River Cove are perfect for swimming, snorkelling and more.

DAY 4

Western River Cove – Ravine Des Casaors – Harveys Return

Break up your swims with a hike. The Ravine Des Casaors hike is 7.5km return. Similar to the Snake Lagoon hike planned for tomorrow but with a lot less rock scrambling. The beach is bigger and surrounded by huge limestone caves to explore. The path down was alive with monitor lizards seeking a feed between bouts of hardcore sunbathing.

To keep the legs warm, get to camp and take the short and steep hike down to your private beach at Harveys Return.

The hike is steep but well worth it to find the private beach down at Harveys Return.

I’ll say it again, it is steep. But at the bottom, you will find a magic little beach, part of a bigger marine sanctuary. Whilst swimming we had huge fish dart out around us from the rocks on either side. It is a well-known habitat for the colourful Blue Groper.

The campsite is amongst the gums, some with very low hanging limbs. Make sure you have a parks pass as this is run by National Parks and Wildlife. Cape Borda Lighthouse is just 4km up the road and has daily cannon firing demonstrations and displays interpretative K.I Lighthouse-life information.

Take a break from swimming and catch the views on the Ravine Des Casaors hike.

DAY 5

Harveys Return – Snake Lagoon – West Bay

Snake lagoon is a shorter hike than Ravine Des Casaors at 4km return, but it feels a lot longer. The track meanders down alongside a tea tree stained creek, that eventually breaks over a small waterfall and opens up onto a small beach. If you are only going to do one hike on this trip, I would choose this one.

By the time you have returned from this hike, you will be looking for a place to set-up, watch the sun go down over the sea and hopefully catch some fish for dinner. West Bay will provide. The track out from Snake Lagoon is ‘4WD only’, but oddly the road gets better as soon as you go past the sign. A ploy to reduce traffic? Yes. The sites are fairly small, and site 1 may be the only one appropriate for a caravan.

We had quite a bit of joy casting slugs out into the gutters and catching good-sized salmon. The fish went a bit quiet when the evening dolphin show began. Turns out it is one of their favourite fishing spots too. They whipped around the bay with a few of their seal friends, surfing waves and dancing around. An unforgettable performance.

The seaside views of West Bay are a must see.

DAY 6

West Bay – Admirals Arch – Remarkable Rocks – Vivonne Bay

You can’t come to Kangaroo Island and not stop in at these top tourist attractions. If you are not too keen on paying to see the sea lions at Seal Bay, you can catch a huge colony at Admirals Arch for free. The seals are present all year round and can be found fishing in the waves, sunbathing on the rocks or fighting for pole position on the seafront. They provide hours of entertainment as their antics unfold, worthy of a reality TV show.

If you want to see some seals, head to Admirals Arch.

Remarkable Rocks are just visible from Admirals Arch, looking like tiny balancing stones, but when you get up close and interact with nature’s masterpiece you will see the grandeur of it. You can walk in, around, under, over and through these lichen coloured granite formations. A couple even makes for amazing lounge chairs for a spot of people watching.

Depending on what time of day you arrive at camp, the Vivonne Bay General Store is a must for a King George Whiting burger. So delicious and the service is always friendly. And, if you’re after more local advice, ask these guys, they are always happy to help. Another spectacular beach awaits you here.

Vivonne Bay has been voted as one of Australia’s top beaches.

DAY 7

Vivonne Bay – Seal Bay – D’Estrees Bay

Whether or not you decided to buy the K.I. Tour Pass, you may still want to drop into Seal Bay. You can take a self-guided walk along the boardwalk or get up close and personal on the beach with a ranger-guided tour. Along the boardwalk, you will still be within metres of the fur seals as they often come right up into the dunes to rest and recharge. They may even be right beneath your feet, close enough to see their beady eyes and cute little faces.

It’s sad to think this might be your last night on K.I. but we’ll finish it off with a beauty, D’Estrees Bay. The campsites are stretched out along a number of smaller bays that make up D’Estrees Bay National Park. Our advice would be to go into the further most sites for some serious peace and quiet.

Finishing your trip in D’Estress Bay will provide you with the R&R you need to return home with.

There are safe swimming spots on the beach and rock pools to float in at each point between bays. Again, the beach fishing is good, and it’s not hard to pick a spot to cast your line. The campsites are set in the dunes with your own pathway down to the beach.

Enjoy the sunset and wake up for sunrise to celebrate an amazing seven days on Kangaroo Island.

  Are you planning on making the trip on the barge over to KI? 

The post How to Spend 7 Days in Kangaroo Island appeared first on Snowys Blog.

[golemqueen]

JILY CHALLENGE | @2upergirl vs @chasehermes

This is for February’s Jily Challenge, even though I accidentally submitted past midnight March 1st. I totally didn’t forget February only has 28 days. Anyways, this ended up a bit darker than expected, I hope you like it anyways!!!

Theme: Fantasy AU

Prompt: “I’m a genie and you rubbed my lamp so congrats you get three wishes but honestly you’re useless just think of three wishes its not like its hARD"

“I want a story.”

Lily Potter sighed, halfway out the door of her son’s room. “Mummy is tired,” she said. “Can you sleep on your own, Harry?”

“I want a story.”

With another sigh (how could she resist those large green eyes, so like hers?) Lily returned to her son’s side and sank onto the bed beside him. “Very well,” she said. “What would you like to hear?”

Harry thought for a moment, his eyes screwed up in concentration. “Something with magic in it.”

Lily smiled at that. “Magic?” she asked. “Like magic carpets and curses?”

The little boy nodded solemnly.

Lily rolled up the sleeves of her thin robe dramatically. “Have I ever told you how your father and I met?” Harry shook his head, settling back onto his pillows expectantly. “It was many years ago,” she said, “though quite recently. It was in a far-off land, but it was right here. It was full of contradictions, but it was delightfully simple. Do you understand?”

“No,” Harry said. “But I don’t care.”

So Lily began.

James Potter was born the wealthy son of a wealthier merchant, and he hated every second of it. He grew up in a house that felt like a palace, but without any of the power that came with one. He had three friends he loved dearly, so he spent every waking second in their company.

One day, under the baking sun, the four friends sat in the shade near the harbor and stared out at the ships that came and went. The ships slid through the cool water to the horizon, and each boy found himself wishing he were on one. The white sails and shining decks were dreams, edging just slightly out of grasp with each swell of the waves.

“Can you imagine the freedom?” James said wistfully.

“Can you imagine the adventures?” Sirius said hopefully.

“Can you imagine the sights?” Remus said eagerly.

“Can you imagine the riches?” Peter said jokingly.

The four looked at each other, then once more at James. He was the richest, with the means to easily purchase a ship and never have to look back.

“Could we?” they asked. “Should we?”

The answers were simple: Yes, and probably not.

And so, without any further ado, they marched down to the harbor and right up to the fanciest, most beautiful vessel they could find. For a small bag of gold coins, the foursome managed not only to buy passage on the ship but the ship itself. James was named captain, as he had paid the men. Sirius was first mate by default, and Peter and Remus became co-first-and-a-half mates, a position Remus suspected had been made up.

The four boys (for no one could argue they were men) set sail before sunset, learning the ropes (if you’ll pardon the pun) as they sailed.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, least of all yours, they shipwrecked on the first island they came across.

The Marauder, as they named her, tossed and turned on a relatively calm sea, jostled by incompetent hands. The glare from the sun was blinding, and James ran her aground onto the sandy beaches of a small island. In an attempt to reverse course, the back rudder snapped entirely off. (How that is possible is beyond me—let me merely tell you that these boys were woefully terrible at sailing a ship.)

Remus and Sirius disembarked first to evaluate the damage.

James hopped down onto the sandy shore, throwing a hand over his eyes to shield from the glare of the sun. Was it his imagination, or was something glinting up ahead in the dunes? Yes, there it was: a sharp glitter amid the haphazardly strewn trees, further inland.

Peter shouted after him, but the scent of adventure was in the air, and nothing could stop James once he caught it. He hurtled across the sand, scrambled and slid over the rocks, and found himself facing a small golden lamp, sitting on a rock as though forgotten.

James looked around. Though small, he had moved to the center of the island, and could no longer see his friends or the ship. He stuck a fallen leaf in the sand in the direction from which he’d come, then picked up the lamp and sat in the shade of a tall palm.

Something was written on the side of it, carved into the gold, but it was covered in a fine layer of sand. James tugged his sleeve over his hand and wiped the sand gently away, pulling the lamp closer to inspect the curling letters.

No sooner had he done so, however, than the lamp grew unbearably hot in his hands. With a yelp, James dropped it and fell backwards off the rock, landing ungracefully on his back.

There was a loud BANG, and something was looming above him.

James squeezed his eyes open, then shut them again. He was seeing this, obviously seeing things. Because there was no way a gorgeous woman with hair like fire was leaning over him, her face frowned in concentration.

“If I’m dreaming,” he muttered. “I’d very much like to be back in Gryffindor when I wake.”

“Gryffindor?” the woman said. James supposed if she was a dream, his imagination was really quite marvelous. She wrinkled her nose. “That little seaside village?”

James blinked and sat up. “It’s quite a large city.”

“Oh.” The woman looked down, then sat on the rock James had so quickly vacated. “I suppose I haven’t been there in…many years.”

“It’s been a city since before I was born,” James said, sitting beside her. “You don’t look much older than—that is to say, how many years has it been?”

“What year is it?” The woman asked.

James told her, and she blushed.

“Several hundred years,” she replied. “Give or take a few decades.”

“My goodness,” was all James could think to say in response. “You look quite well for seven hundred years old, I must say.”

She laughed, like bells and honey. “I’m far older than that.” Suddenly she jumped up. “I can’t believe you let me ramble on like that! We have business to attend to, don’t we?”

He followed suit, standing a little more heavily due to exhaustion. “D-do we?”

“You rubbed my lamp, didn’t you?” she indicated the discarded thing. “What is your first wish?”

“Wish?” James asked dreamily.

The woman folded her arms impatiently and scowled. “You’re certainly very new to all this, aren’t you?” She spread her arms and stepped back, light sparkling off her multicolored robes. She looked like a sunset, all fire-red hair and pastel cloth. “I am Lilith, Djinni of the lamp. You…” she wrinkled her nose again. “You seem to be a shipwrecked sailor with no taste in clothing.” She twitched, like an idea occurred to her. “I know! You’d probably love some shade or fresh water, wouldn’t you? Why don’t you wish for that, maybe a lady companion as well, and I’ll just go back into my lamp and wait for someone…” her eyes swept him up and down. “Cleaner.”

“You’re awfully impatient,” James said. “Give me a moment, would you? My brain is a little addled, I did just shipwreck, after all…” he began to pace around the lamp, muttering to himself.

“Water?” Lilith suggested every so often. “Some food?”

He waved her away each time.

Finally, footsteps and shouts. “James! Mate, wherever you’ve wandered, it looks like we’re stuck. There’s a hole in the back, we’re taking on water fast…”

James’ head jerked up, and he snapped his fingers. “That’s it! Lily—”

“Lilith.”

“I wish my boat were fixed.”

Lilith sighed and rolled back her sleeves, revealing two thick golden bangles. “About time,” she muttered. “Let’s see the damage, then. Can’t fix something I haven’t seen.”

James scooped up the lamp and set it carefully into his satchel. “This way.” He kicked the leaf he’d set in place, leading her towards Sirius’ shouts. “I’m here!” he called. “I found a solution, I can fix it!”

“You can fix it,” Lilith scoffed. “I am right here, you know.”

The other three boys had gathered on the beach, and stared in awe as James neared, the radiant Lilith in tow. “Boys,” he announced happily. “I present Lilith, Djinni of the lamp. She’ll be fixing up the Marauder.”

As Lilith neared the ship, she began to laugh. “What have you done? This is an absolute disaster. Have any of you sailed before?”

They shook their heads, though Sirius scowled while doing so.

She raised her hands. “Very well. Your first wish is my command.” Golden light gathered at her fingertips and arched away, swarming the broken parts of the ship and surrounding them; it glowed so brightly James had to cover his eyes. When the light faded, the Marauder was safely tethered to a nearby tree, anchor dropped, plank lowered.

Lilith’s lips quirked in a half-smile as the boys turned to her, dumbfounded. “Good as new,” she declared. “Now, master, your next two wishes—”

“Not so fast,” Remus said. “James, you have three wishes.”

“Two,” Lilith corrected.

“Master,” Sirius cackled.

James blushed. “Please don’t call me that.”

“Two,” Remus amended. “Don’t use them all right now.”

“Of course not,” James said, as if the very notion were ridiculous. “Come, let’s sail on. Lily, there’s a spare cabin for you below, I believe—”

“Oh, dear me, no,” Lilith said with a tinkling laugh. “I’d much rather sleep in my lamp for all eternity than live on a boat—”

“In there?” James interrupted. “That’s inhumane! No, you’ll live with us until we reach our destination. We have plenty of food and fresh water—”

“I don’t need to eat,” she said dismissively. “And I will not get aboard your vessel.”

A week later, Lilith sat in the galley with Sirius and Peter, recounting the tale of Urg the Unfortunate while beating Peter at chess.

“He wished for…let’s see, what was it? A new button, a mouse, and the key to the hidden treasure his sultan had hidden beneath the palace. Of course, he never found it, so the key was a complete waste. Still, I’ve heard it’s now a family heirloom…”

“What did he do with the mouse?” Peter asked, fingering a pawn.

Lilith grinned wickedly, sliding her rook forward. “Fed it to his cat.”

“No!” Peter said, horrified. He had several pet rats in his cabin, all named Wormtail. When Lilith inquired as to why, he simply sniffed and said, “If you don’t know, I won’t tell you.” It remained the biggest mystery she had encountered in a thousand years of life.

“Yes,” Lilith said, as feet clattered down the stairs. James appeared, running a hand through his hair and looking harried. “Ah, if it isn’t my master. What can I do for you?”

“Don’t call me that,” he said. “Sirius, there’s a storm on the horizon, I need your help plotting a course around it.”

“I don’t really know what I’m doing, mate,” Sirius warned, getting to his feet.

“You’ve gotten us this far.”

“I could help,” Lilith suggested helpfully, as she had several times. “Just wish you’d reached your destination—”

James gave a small smile, though his entire demeanor was worried. “It’s about the travelling,” he said. “Not the location. Hey, Pete.”

Peter nodded in response, turning back to the chess game as the two disappeared on deck.

Several hours (or perhaps it was days—spending decades at a time inside a lamp tended to skew one’s sense of time) later, Lilith heard a resounding crash from up on deck.

She set down the book she had borrowed from Sirius and got to her feet, ready to affectionately scold the boys for whatever havoc they were wreaking now. Despite initial hesitations, she had grown to enjoy her time out of the lamp, to stretch her legs and interact with humans. This was one of the longest times she’d been out, since an evil wizard had trapped her in the first place.

As Lilith began to ascend the wooden steps that would lead her to the deck, she reminded herself firmly that the wizard was dead, and of no harm to her (or anyone) anymore. She had seen to that, she thought grimly.

At first, when she reached the deck and was assaulted by a wall of water, she assumed the boys were playing a prank on her, as they were wont to do occasionally. When her eyes adjusted and the water hadn’t stopped, she realized they had sailed into the storm, and the crash had been the main sail toppling over. How she hadn’t noticed the rocking was another mystery—she must be losing her wits after all this time free from the lamp.

She heard a shout and found herself, her eyes catching a flash of Sirius’ dark hair amongst the rain and fog. “Lily!” he was calling, desperately, over and over.

Like magic (though, of course, she had only run) Lilith appeared beside him, where he was cradling James’ prone body.

Lilith’s blood ran cold. “What happened?” she shouted.

She had never had a master die on her before. Would she die as well? Would she live the rest of her immortal life, tethered to a functionless lamp, doomed to wander for all eternity?

All of her questions flew into the void as she saw James was still breathing, replaced with a single, surprising emotion: overwhelming relief. She knelt beside Sirius, pulling a piece of mast to shield them as best she could.

“Part of the mast hit him,” Sirius shouted back, the howling wind ripping away each syllable. “Remus and Peter are below, there’s nothing any of us can do!” Suddenly there was a gleam in his gray eyes. “You can help.”

“I can’t!” Lilith screamed over the wind. “I can’t do anything! My magic is tied to the lamp!”

“Lilith, I wish he were safe.” Sirius bent over his friend, removing fogged up glasses from hazel eyes.

There was no twinge of compulsion. Lilith shook her head. “It has to be James,” she said. “Only he can channel my magic—I’m sorry!” In disgust, Sirius pushed away from her, leaning James’ unconscious form against the railing as he swore, staggering towards the helm.

Lily pushed James’ hair out of his eyes (though it didn’t help), and suddenly became aware that some of the water staining her cheeks were her own tears. “Please wake up,” she mouthed. “Please, please wish you were safe, you were awake and alive, we were safe!” She bent over him, all her magic useless. “You have to wake up!” she screamed. “You stupid, stupid sailor—why did you go and get yourself knocked unconscious? I can’t fix all of your mistakes!”

She screamed her throat sore, and then she screamed some more, hearing Sirius wrestling with the wheel to no avail.

A hand touched her cheek.

James was awake.

Lily gave a surprised yelp. “Quickly,” she said, watching his fluttering eyes. “Quickly, wish we were safe, wish we were home!”

“I—I wish—”

“Go on,” she said. “Wish we were home.”

“…who?”

“It’s me,” she sobbed. “It’s me, it’s Lily.”

“I wish we could get home safe.”

Magic surged to Lily’s fingertips, warming her through her toes, and she cried with relief. She hated not having her magic be truly hers, but for once it felt like it could be once again.

She got unsteadily to her feet, the deck swaying back and forth. Lilith threw her arms out, and the golden light swept from horizon to horizon, gathering up the storm clouds and the rain, swirling around the broken mast and James’ head.

It was so much; so powerful, that Lilith’s head spun and she fell sideways onto the warm deck. Changing the weather was huge magic, and Lily was drained. She pressed her cheek to the hot wood, melting in the new warmth around her. Hands were grabbing her shoulders, turning her face sunward.

“Lily—Lily—Lilith—”

At her given name from her master’s mouth Lily’s eyes jerked open. “I’m sorry,” spilled from her mouth. “It was a powerful storm, I’m s—”

She was pulled into a strong embrace, her eyes widening in shock. She hadn’t been hugged in a thousand years. Lily leaned into James, her cheek pressed against his shoulder.

“You did it,” he was saying. “You saved us.”

“I did, didn’t I?” she said faintly. “Look, I know I said I didn’t need to sleep…but I think…I might make an exception…” She slid sideways out of his embrace and into welcome darkness.

There was a tap on Lily’s door, jolting her from unconsciousness. Sleeping was a foreign concept. In her lamp she drifted in and out of awareness, but it was nothing like true sleep. With her energy restored, Lily found herself wide awake. She would most likely not need to sleep again unless James’ third wish required something equally taxing, which she sincerely hoped not.

She found herself dreading the arrival of the third wish. It meant a return to the darkness of the lamp and an immortal life of servitude. Lily dug her hands into the soft blankets on her bed, trying to ground herself in reality. She had time. He had, after all, only just used his second wish.

The knock came again, more insistent this time.

Lily swung the door open. “Yes, master?” she asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“I hate it when you call me that. Can I come in?”

“You can do as you please.” But Lily found herself wanting his company as she stepped back to let him in. “What can I do for you?”

James stood awkwardly, then sat on the bed. “I wanted to thank you for saving my life.”

Lily shrugged. “It was your wish.”

“Yes, but…you could have manipulated that into anything. I’ve read up on genies—”

“Djinni,” Lily interrupted. “We prefer Djinni.”

“Djinni,” James said. “They’re…well, it said you were tricksters.”

“I have been known to play my fair share of tricks,” Lily admitted. “Oh, once there was this man, Dippet, he wished for clarity and I made him invisible.” She laughed at the memory.

James patted a spot on the bed beside him, and Lily sat. “I hate this,” he mumbled.

Lily’s blood ran cold, much like it had when she thought he was dead. How curious. “What?” she asked. “I—you can make your third wish, you know. Anything you like. I won’t trick you.” She paused. “And I’ll go back to the lamp.”

“No!” He grabbed her hands. “That’s not—gods above, that’s not what I meant, Lilith.”

“Lily.”

“It’s grown on you,” he grinned.

She smiled back. “It makes me feel more human.” Lily blinked. She hadn’t realized that was true until she’d said it aloud. “More human,” she said again. “No. I don’t—I don’t need to be human!” She stood abruptly. “I am a Djinn. I wish I were Djinn again, I wish I could use my magic again, not be chained to some lamp and some human!”

“That’s what I hate,” James said quietly. “I hate that I control your magic—that’s what Sirius said you said, anyway. It’s not fair. How…how did this happen?”

A white, snakelike face. Two red eyes. Green light, a shocked human.

“It was a long time ago,” Lily said eventually. “You don’t want to know. You’ll think less of me.”

“Not possible,” James said immediately.

“I…” Lily sighed. He was staring at her intently, like back on the island. He was determined. “Very well. I’ll start at the beginning, then.

“Djinn have life spans very similar to humans. The main difference is that we have magic. I know, I know, a few rare humans do too, your wizards. That is where my story begins. I was seventeen years old, barely having mastered basic elemental magic. I was the worst at earth magic, so when my parents were busy and my sister was out, I snuck out into the mountains to practice.

“There had been rumors of a wizard in the mountains, a fearsome human, but I always suspected those were just tales, told to frighten younger Djinni from venturing out on their own. Besides, I was a seventeen-year-old, a teenager, full of idiotic ideas of being indestructible and noble.

“I began to practice. Little things at first—lifting stones, then boulders, then shifting the ground and the cliffsides. I was making too much noise, using too much magic, drawing too much attention to myself. The wizard noticed me, and he approached.

“He told me he was impressed. Told me I had talent, that I was better than my unrefined Djinni cousins. I was flattered. He offered an exchange: he would teach me the finer points of human magic, and I would teach him elements. It sounded too good to be true. A mentor, someone who appreciated my talents! I went with him at once to his castle, way up in the mountains. He led me to his lair, down in the dungeons. He wanted to show me a spell, something he thought I’d love.

“It was a golden lamp. He said whoever held the lamp could have their hearts desire, and I was to wish for the ability to perform human magic. It all sounded so perfect, so logical, so obvious. I took the lamp.

“No sooner had I touched it than bracelets appeared on my wrists, locking into place. My hands were stuck to the lamp. His eyes…I’ll never forget. They glowed red, he chanted something in another language…and then the lamp clattered to the stone floor. It seemed I was free. I raised my hands to blast him with fire, to kill him for whatever he’d tried to do, but nothing happened. My magic was blocked, like a cork in a bottle.

“He wished for me to murder a family of humans that lived on the other side of the mountains, just to see if I would. I did, and because he relished in it, so did I. He wished I would transport him to the kingdom of Slytherin, and I did. He wished I would assassinate the king, and I did. As soon as the third wish was granted, I vanished. Everything was dark, and all I knew was relief. I thought he had killed me, and all I could think was…was thank the gods I was finally free.

“But then I was back. I was in a different human wizard’s room, and he looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him. He was kind, he was good. Only a few years had passed, and the wizard who trapped me had taken Slytherin’s throne.

“The young wizard wished his mother was healthy, and I did that gladly. He wished his spells would work, and they did. And then…then he wished for the kingdom’s peace. There were so many ways I could have accomplished that; I could have created a surplus to last a thousand years, filled their rivers to the brim, slaughtered their enemies. Instead, I acted selfishly. I murdered their king, the wizard who had imprisoned me. I killed him slowly, and I thought I would be free. I had no idea what had happened to me, or what would happen. With his death, I suppose I ended a tyranny, so I had brought peace. But the young human’s face…his shock, his hurt. He hadn’t wanted that. He’d just wanted the people to be happy.

“I sank into nothingness again, not expecting to wake again. I had broken the cycle before it had begun.

“But I was wrong. I found myself in the hands of countless humans, sometimes days apart, sometimes centuries. I have travelled the world in snippets, never staying in the same place for longer than a week. Humans are impatient creatures, they always use their wishes as soon as they can.”

Lily fell silent, watching James. His eyes hadn’t left hers the whole time she spoke.

“Until now.”

James looked at her for a while longer. “I don’t think less of you,” he said, his voice rusty. “I admire you.”

“What?”

“You’ve remained strong,” he said. “A lesser Djinn than you would have broken. But when I look at you, I don’t see a murderer or a lost soul. I see a powerful woman who is completely in control of what she has, despite what she doesn’t.”

He had leaned closer to her, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek.

If he wished for her to kiss him, she would disappear into the lamp happy.

“JAMES!” A voice bellowed. Remus was running down the stairs. “Land! It’s Gryffindor! We’ve circled around, I suppose, we’ve gone back home—” the door was flung open, and James sprang away from Lily.

“Home? I—I suppose my wish did say something about home, I hadn’t thought…” He looked back at Lily. “I’ll be right up. Tell Sirius to take us into the harbor.”

James turned back to Lily after Remus had left. “I don’t have to make a third wish,” he said. “You could come with me, back home.”

“I thought it was about the traveling,” Lily said with a weak smile.

“I’ve had enough adventuring for now, I think,” James said. “I still own this ship, don’t I?” He stepped towards her again. “Please,” he murmured. “Please come with me. I won’t wish anything, you can stay…”

Lily found herself shaking her head. “I can’t,” she said. “I don’t know what would happen. I wouldn’t age, and when you die…I have no idea what will happen to me.”

James bit his lip. “At least come up,” he said. “We can decide what happens next. Together.”

Lily had never had a together, not even when she was a seventeen-year-old Djinn at home with her family. “Alright,” she said. “We can decide together.”

They met the other three on deck, pulling more smoothly into the harbor than they had left it.

“D’you reckon my father will be very upset?” James asked Peter, who just laughed.

The boys turned to Lily. “What will you do?” Remus asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “James will have to make a third wish, and then…”

“One of us could take the lamp,” Remus suggested. “That gives us nine more wishes to figure out what to do next.”

Lily blinked. “You—you would do that?”

“Hey, it’s free magic,” Sirius said. “D’you know how much a wizard costs these days?”

Peter elbowed him.

“I mean. Yeah, of course, Lils.” He threw the rope over the deck, where someone down below tied it off. “I’ll be in a pub if any of you lot need me. After all that, I need a good drink.”

“We brought three barrels of rum,” Remus protested, following him off. Peter took one look at James and scurried off after them.

“I can’t believe your friends would do that for me,” Lily said. “And not just for the magic. For me.”

“They’re your friends too, Lily,” James said amusedly. “I wi—I’m glad you’ll be staying with us. Even if it’s only until we run out of trustworthy confidants.”

Lily cracked a smile. “I wish I could stay with you forever.”

“I wish you were free.”

Golden light was everywhere, rushing over her skin like tiny feathers. The wind picked up, swirling around her like a tornado, catching her hair in its swarm, dragging her arms forward. Lily watched with stunned eyes as the light ate away at the gold bands on her wrists, dissolving the metal like acid, then shrank away from her limbs, collapsing in on itself until a small spot of light remained, just over her heart. Then that, too, vanished, sinking into her skin.

Lily and James stared at each other. She felt lighter than she had in a thousand years, in control of her limbs and her mind. Experimentally, she lifted her arm, beckoning to the sea around her. Hundreds of tiny jets responded to her call, arching over their heads, twining together and evaporating into a fine mist that settled in their hair and onto their skin.

A happy giggle burst from Lily, as she twirled, changing her robes from multicolored to bright yellow then back.

“You did it!” she cried, throwing herself at him in a hug. “You freed me—how? How did you know it would work?”

“I didn’t!”

They were both yelling and laughing and spinning and hugging, and Lily couldn’t stop herself from changing his hair to green and purple and blue and shades she’d never even seen before. James took her face in his hands and kissed her, and she felt it, every nerve in her body on fire, no longer numb and dull.

It was like being alive after centuries of sleeping.

On the deck of the Marauder they kissed, and she cried, and he laughed, and they both lived happily ever after.

“You didn’t tell me there would be kissing,” Harry said, sounding betrayed.

Lily smiled faintly, still lost in memory. “I’d forgotten about that bit.”

“Mum, can you make my hair blue?”

Lily laughed. “No, darling. Think about what Daddy would say if you and he didn’t have the same hair! He would be distraught.”

Harry thought about this for a moment. “Okay,” he said. “Goodnight, Mummy. Thank you for the story. Even if there was kissing in it.”

“Goodnight, my darling.”

James was waiting outside the door. “And they all lived happily ever after?”

“What?” Lily asked, pulling him in for a kiss. “We did.”

[noplanwithavan]

THE STUFF OF LEGENDS

Our voyage through the ancient world continues. Leaving behind the Romans, sailing East,  and journeying deeper into the Hellenic world. We’ve come ashore in Greece, and life is sweet here. I mean seriously sweet. Must be all the halva, honey and Easter eggs.

To get here, from Sicily we crossed the toe of Italy, arched around its instep, and arrived somewhere near the top of the high heel for a pressing assignation. We’d committed ourselves to the labours of HelpEx, having been accepted on a family small-holding in Mola di Bari. Yearning for a bit more interaction and social life, this seemed the perfect way to get under the skin - and into the kitchens - of Italian life. The girls bristled with excitement, keen to meet the family’s 8 year-old daughter named Fara. “Will it be like the olive farm we worked on in Spain?” they ask. Probably not, we say. It’s more domestic we think, not so much back-breaking work. “It’s kind of like the Roman times,” we explain “We offer to be slaves, and they feed us. Hopefully without the harsh punishment or threat of being thrown to the lions if we disobey.”

From the moment we arrived, there was a sense of familiarity, and it was clear we’d feel comfortable with Andrea, Angela and Fara. They welcomed us in to a large, round courtyard, an ancient gnarled olive tree at its centre, and a volley of yelping Italian children circling it by bike at the speed of charioteers racing the Circo Massimo. It soon became apparent the family had friends over, and Elsie and Lulu were immediately drawn into the melé, guided by the irresistible rules of play. As the sun went down the evening was warm enough to stay outside and enjoy focaccia, cheese and salad from their garden. It reminded Marcus of his family home in Pembrokeshire, Middlelands, in many ways. The same informality and open-house welcome. Throughout our week, as we worked in the garden this sense continued, people often dropping by, calling over. Meal times were sociable affairs, super-healthy and all vegetarian. There were no unhealthy snacks nor processed food of any kind in the house. So much so, they didn’t even possess a can opener. The girls responded well. They hero-worship Fara, following her lead in all things, even developing a taste for fennel, much to our surprise. During the mornings we’re left to get on with things by ourselves as the family worked and Fara went to school. Sometimes the girls would help us, other times they’d roam free, making up their own games, desperate for Fara to return home and lead the charge. At first it felt a bit strange, wandering around trying to find tools, or stopping for a snack and rummaging about in someone else’s kitchen. One morning I discovered a quote from Socrates pinned above a chalk-board. “Education is the kindling of a flame. Not the filling of a vessel,” it read. I had the simultaneous experience of agreeing profoundly, whilst at the same time wondering what to do if you suspected your kids needed a bloody blowtorch to get things lit. Nonetheless, it inspired me this quote, and I decided that incidental learning might be much less stressful. So they helped plant their own bed of wildflowers, and spent a morning in the vegetable patch studying and drawing the different shape leaves to identify which vegetables they would become. After a few days, we adjusted, found our pace, and fitted in with the family’s way of life. The work wasn’t hard - clearing plant beds, weeding paths, digging up trees which had self-seeded to replant elsewhere - but its the first physical work we’ve done for some time. Having thought this would be a breeze compared to olive harvesting, Marcus confesses he’s glad we’re only staying a week as he’s not sure his back can take much more. Trying to steer him on to lighter duties I volunteer his services in the cooking department, suggesting he make the family a curry. The idea gains traction, indeed becomes somewhat of “an event”. Despite the legendary devotion the Italians have for eating only their own, exceptionally local food, by the end of the week Marcus is consulting his brother’s “We Love Curry” pages. For come the weekend he’s headlining an Indian banquet for a gathering of our hosts’ close relatives and friends. Well, we all know he does love a dinner party, and we said we wanted to meet more people! The only complications being  a complete lack of Italian on his part, and little to no idea of how many close relatives and friends might turn up. Saturday arrives, and our hosts Andrea and Angela drift off, busily engaged in their own respective tasks. Marcus is left alone to make the final preparations. Guests begin arriving and filter through the kitchen, their curiosity piqued by such un-Mediterranean, unfamiliar smells. One by one they try and strike up a dialogue, but necessity dictates small talk is limited. Sensing familiarity as they watch him stretching out dough on the kitchen worktop, the dinner guests try a different tack: “Pizza?” they opine. “No pizza,” he demurs. “Focaccia?” “No focaccia” he emphasises, this time batted away with a definitive hand-swipe. “Panzarotte?”…and on it goes, with a list of about 20 Italian forms of bread, none of which are what he is making. “Chapatis,” he ventures. “Curry, with chapatis.” But this is an enigma, and the growing swell of puzzled faces signals they have arrived at a conversational cul-de-sac.

Thankfully, the delicious food does all the talking, and even the most hardened regional food purist has to admit it. One man takes Marcus aside, “Thank you for your curry,” he confides.  “Maybe I won’t eat again, but doesn’t mean I don’t like.” Then, continuing by way of clarification, “You see I only eat dishes from Bari. My wife is from Parma, but I don’t even let her cook food from her home town….unless we go there to visit her family.” Message received. In summary, partial success, but curry colonisation in Puglia remains far from complete.

Our time spent in the warmth of Fara’s family appears to have regenerated our social lives, and from Italy onwards we are constantly finding ourselves in good company. There is Ruth and Frank, the first campervanners we have met from Wales. The sight of the red dragon sicker on the back of their vehicle is such a surprise that we have to restrain ourselves from rushing out to greet them with open arms. We instantly take a liking to them, and within minutes of discussing where we’re from discover we have friends in common. A retired clown from Cardiff, Frank tells us he knows Tenby well, most fondly because of his pal there James Osbourn. From here, the conversation flows and I can’t remember quite how exactly but at some point it navigates around to toilets. (Probably something to do with it being Elsie’s specialist subject). Ruth offers to show the girls their loo.

“It’s a composting toilet, would you like to see it?” she beams. We all trail inside, fascinated to find out more. Is this even possible I think, and how does it not stink the place out in such a small space? Pulling out two large food recycling bins, courtesy of Cardiff City Council, from under the bed,  Ruth begins to explain. The couple are clearly very proud of their ingenuity and challenge us to a poo test. This involves opening up each container in turn, inviting us to have a sniff, and then guess which one contains the poo. It’s actually surprisingly difficult, and we have to admit defeat. Thrilled, Ruth goes on to explain that one box contains just sawdust and ash, and the other human excrement which has been covered with said sawdust and ash. “It takes away the smell entirely,” she says. “You wouldn’t even know. Amazing isn’t it?” And it is, and I love her obvious delight at the mastery of such an unpleasant problem. Strange too how you can find yourself examining a another’s most taboo bodily function within half an hour of meeting them.

Some days later, we are in Polignano de Mare, a seaside town set atop rocks, narrow balconies overlooking the caves eroding beneath. It’s dramatic and precarious position has led to it being picked as one of the Red Bull Cliff Diving locations, like Abereiddy back at home. While we wait to catch the ferry to Greece, we spend a wonderful few sunny days here. It’s a chance to dust off the canoe and explore the pretty inlets and coastline. It’s also our last opportunity to scoff pizza, try interesting gelato combinations like fig and ricotta, and drink good wine. And while we won’t miss the driving in Italy, we will miss the country itself. It’s fresh vegetables packed with flavour, the approach they have towards children - letting them run free, with trust and respect. And the people who seem to live life the way they coach their little ones to tackle obstacles - “piano, piano” (slowly, slowly). We park right by the sea, and the girls go scrambling over the rocks, in search of the blowholes they can hear snoring like dragons. They bring back a little blonde-haired girl called Poppy. And by sunset the girls are tucked up in her distinctive pink old-style VW campervan watching a movie, while we invite her parents Jane and Steve over for a drink. I guess its not that much of a surprise that a family who are doing a year out just like us, and having travelled much of the same route, would have met some of the same people. But it’s still heartening somehow to discover that they have. It fosters our sense of a community on the road when we learn that they too spent time with the wonderful Hilary, Richard, Jess, Chippie and Bonnie, whom we enjoyed Christmas with in Tarifa.

From Bari, we sail to Petrás in Greece. From the ferry we sight the islands, craggy and wild, whetting our appetite for what this next country will have to offer. The almond trees have now been replaced by the bright pink blossom of Judas trees, yellow explosions of Broom, and the purple profusion of low-hanging wisteria draped by the roadside. Our first supermarket stop, near to the ancient sanctuary of Olympia, doesn’t disappoint. There is olive paste spread, an explosion of sesame goods in the forms of tahini and halva, a whole aisle dedicated to yoghurt. “What do they call Greek yoghurt here?” Marcus muses. “Just yoghurt?” And then there’s the filo pastry, a world of new cooking opportunities lay open before us! On reaching the meat counter we are momentarily overcome by the language barrier, indeed the whole different alphabet, rendering us clueless. Luckily, some improvisation prevails, and by saying, “Baaaaa!!!” to the man a few times, he soon catches on that I would like lamb. There are no small portions in Greece, and he hacks off such a large chunk, it keeps us going for 3 days.

But the best thing so far has to be embracing the whole incidental learning idea full tilt. This month its purely Classics. The girls are in their element - it’s all about stories after all, which they love, and everywhere you look there’s another reference to a legend, another piece of the historical puzzle which still resonates through our culture today. Our maths lesson before visiting Olympia was measuring distances. The girls had to mark out intervals of 1m until we reached the crucial 200m mark, the distance ancient athletes would sprint. Appreciation of the site itself taxes the imagination more than the ruins of Rome or Pompei. But from the layout and the thickness of some of the columns its possible to guess at how impressive it would once have been. As always the devil is in the detail, and we try and point out as much as we came to bring it all to life. The wide open space of the Palaestra where hey have a mock wrestle, the plinths lining the approach to the stadium which would have held bronze statues of Zeus, paid for by the fines of athletes who had cheated. The inscriptions still visible beneath bearing their names and city of birth. The cheap seats up high on Mount Kronos, filled by woman and slaves, which overlooks the track where the girls race. But it is one detail in particular that really tickles them - the fact that the ancient competitors would have all been naked. This steers Elsie’s mind back onto another of her favourite topics. In many ways an ancillary to toilets - that of winkles. And she enjoys a saunter around the museum gaping at all the parts of male anatomy on statuesque display. I can’t get over the impression of soft, see-through chiton material etched out of stone on the statue of Nike, or the perfect proportions in the face of Athena and Hermes. There is a whole room dedicated to the many small figurines, votive offerings, left at the temples of Zeus and Hera. Displayed, they look like an installation of battle, exquisite in their painstaking detail.

We have a book of “Greek Myths” for children (or Greek Miffs, as they pronounce it), which is our all important educational go-to-guide for this part of the trip. And it’s mind boggling how many places and sites we have seen which are referenced in those stories. In Italy the sirens in the story of Odysseus just off the coast of Naples, the cyclops in Sicily he defeats on Mount Etna. And here in Greece, the 12 labours of Heracles depicted on the Temple of Zeus in Olympia, the temples to the oracles on the wild Peloponnese, the beautiful town of Kardamyli (one of seven gifted by Agamemnon to Achilles in return for rejoining the battle of Troy), and finally the caves of Diros. Once we discover these caves are behind the tales about the River Styx, and the journey to the Underworld, we just have to go and take a look. Brushing up beforehand on the chapters about Pluto and Cerberus his 3-headed dog. Located on the Mani peninsula near the town of Aereopoli, they are an other-world experience, and its not hard to imagine why the Greeks thought they led to a different realm. Entering the caves from a stone beach, you climb down to an underground lake where a “ferryman” awaits to transport you through a network of waterways, a labyrinth of caverns and tunnels adorned with stalactites and stalagmites. Floating along on a narrow gondola, amid the humidity and drips from above, I’m sure it would have been quite a spiritual experience, if it wasn’t for the kids hassling us to change seats and let them have a go at taking pictures.

For the last week or so we have been winding our way down the central finger of the Peloponnese, from Pylos, Kardamyli, Stoupa, Agios Nikolaus, Aereopoli, and right to the tip at Porto Kagio. Free camping is no problem here, and we can pitch up right by a pebbled beach, string out the hammock and spend our days swimming, and eating outside. Our favourite dish is experimenting with home-made pastries. Using the filo Marcus has been trying out different filled parcels - savoury spinach and feta, and sweet combinations of apple and raisin, sesame, honey and pistachio. Over the last week we’ve met a few friendly German families at some of our camping spots, sharing breakfasts on the beach and relaxed mornings with time to teach the girls card tricks, and giving them responsibilities like the chance to be head chef and make lunch for us, or earn extra pocket money by washing up.

The further south we travel, the wilder and more remote the landscape becomes. The road curving inwards along the steep terraced ancient hillsides, carpeted with wildflowers and punctuated by clusters of soft grey Mani tower houses. A few weeks ago we were inside the van discussing our concerns that the girls reading wasn’t improving greatly. They were both outside lobbing up sticks and any objects they could find into a large palm tree. At that moment Elsie burst in to ask if she could have a bowl because they were harvesting dates. As we stepped out to have a look, I had to smile. Remember Socrates, I thought. They weren’t actual dates, but they looked very similar. The girls might not be great readers just yet, but they can spend hours studying the many different shapes and varieties of plants we find here, and they can identify wild asparagus and fennel much better than I.

Easter is an important festival here in Greece, and we spent it in Kardamyli, smashing the bright red boiled eggs that symbolise the blood of Christ, and following the processions to the sound of church bells tolling out the call to worship. On Good Friday Marcus received a phonecall from his mum to say his beloved Grandmother, Gassie, had died at the age of 101. It was news he had been expecting for some time, yet forewarned and prepared as he was, it is never easy to be away from family at such a time. But thinking back on her legacy, and childhood memories of this unchanging constant in his life, it reaffirms why we are doing this trip. The more the months slide by, the more aware we are how precious this experience is. Each photo, each place has a poignancy that wasn’t there at the start. To spend this time with each other, to experience ourselves close-up it almost seems, is our gift and legacy to our children. One we hope will endure.

[weditchthemap]

Traveling Turkey's Turquoise Coast: Dalyan, Fethiye, and Kalkan

The Turquoise Coast

The Turkish Riviera is where the Mediterranean Sea laps at Turkey’s southwestern shore. With it’s blue jeweled-toned waters, the Turkish Riviera is aptly referred to as the Turquoise Coast. One look at the water and the validity of the nickname is confirmed. The Turquoise Coast is saturated not only with sea views, but also history. This region of Turkey is steeped in history. Ancient cities and Lycian ruins span the coast line. The Turkish Riviera is home of the Lycian Way, a long-distance trail connecting pre-Roman Lycian ruins over a 500km stretch. We visited three towns along Turkey’s Turquoise Coast before tackling the Lycian Way (blog link coming soon).

Dalyan, Turkey 

A recommendation from an acquaintance in Istanbul landed us in Dalyan. Our first impressions of the small sleepy town were, “this must be where British people go to retire” and “holy resort sprawl.” Cheerful sun-flushed Brits seem to rival the number of locals and the resorts, though quaint, extend in all directions from the main riverside strip. Being a ‘package tour’ type town, Dalyan isn’t exactly a backpacker destination. It’s more of a lounge in the sun, take it easy, and enjoy cheap food kind of deal. But if that’s what you’re looking for, Dalyan is the perfect venue. With its quiet, laidback vibe, it is a good choice for a relaxing, affordable, and family friendly vacation. The Turkish charm and hospitality is likely why holiday-goers continue to return to this cherished town.

Dalyan is a scenic fishing village that sits along a river. The river feeds into a waterway system ultimately emptying into the Mediterranean Sea. Private and public boats await to take tourists on tours or to nearby beaches. It’s a picturesque view from the center of town where ancient Lycian Rock Tombs are carved into a towering cliff across the river. Along the waterfront there are countless restaurants, bars, shops, and tour agencies. The food is tasty and authentic, if overpriced in comparison to other less touristic towns. More often than not, prices are quoted in pounds. Restaurants proudly advertise that they serve “Typical English Breakfast” (beans for breakfast?) and western-fare for those desiring a taste of home.

İztuzu Beach

While in Daylan, we took a day trip to İztuzu beach. Just a boat trip or minibus ride away from Dalyan, this beach is a striking strip of white sand that forms a natural barrier between the fresh water of the river delta and the salt water of the Mediterranean. İztuzu beach, also called turtle beach, is a nesting site for Loggerhead turtles. Home to such a fragile population, the beach is now a protected area, closing daily from 8pm-8am. Nesting sites, indicated by wooden stakes, are to be avoided. An English environmentalist known fondly as “Kaptan June” has received recognition in the area for her activism. She’s worked ceaselessly to protect the delicate Loggerhead turtle nesting grounds from development and opened a rehabilitation center for injured turtles. She advocates for the use of propeller guards. Many boats docked in Daylan don a Kaptan June seal which means they adhere to turtle safe practices. We can personally attest to the necessity of propeller guards as we unwittingly witnessed a floating, decapitated turtle during a boat trip in the area. It was a disturbing sight. 

12 Island Tour

Yep, we signed up for a packaged tour and despite my aforementioned judgement, we enjoyed a lovely and relaxing day on the water. We floated through the calm, crystal clear waters of the Gulf of Göcek while taking in the scene of small islands, pine forests and sheltered bays. We spent the day chatting with a fun, crossfit enthusiast from Alabama. She’s relocated, indefinitely, to Turkey and dreams of building a cross-fit gym for women and children. She spoke passionately about the weekly English language class she teaches to adults in Istanbul where her liberal female students preferred topic of conversation is their disdain for the “patriarchy.” That said, she loves Istanbul, believes it is where she’s meant to be, and finds it incredibly progressive. We did too.

Fethiye, Turkey

Spending a quick two days in the harbor town of Fethiye, we kind of missed the mark and didn’t make it to the Saturday market or the abandoned “ghost town” of Kayaköy. I suppose it’s the nature of a backpacking trip not to be able to see and do it all and be okay with that. Sometimes we do fall victim to an underlying fear of missing out: “Did we do enough?”” See enough?” “Should we have done x, y or z?” “Did we make the most of _?” We must consciously remind ourselves that travel for us, at this moment in time, is our lifestyle, not a vacation. Well intentioned people are always telling us, “eat this!” “do that!” “go here!” ”you’re on vacation, enjoy!” But actually, we are not. If we indulged everyday on unhealthy food or spent money frivolously, like on vacation, we wouldn’t be able to take this trip. So, we try to prioritize and honor our health and well-being and not wear ourselves too thin. Truthfully though, it’s the unexpected and unplanned moments of travel that reveal the most interesting cultural insights and provide connection with others like Scott’s entertaining haircut in Fetiyhe. It was unlike any haircut either of us have ever witnessed; exceptionally thorough, bordering on aggressive, and incorporating fire to singe off unwanted hair. You can read about his amusing experience here: Tales of a Traditional Turkish Haircut: Foam, Fire and a Facial.

Despite missing the main sights, we can speak to the beauty of Ölüdeniz Beach. Ölüdeniz is one of Turkey’s most recognized and photographed beaches, 16 km south of Fetiyhe. The water is such a vibrant shade of turquoise it doesn’t even look real. Aside from sunbathing and swimming, paragliding is the thing to do. Dozens of colorful paragliders float down to the beach every hour. We stayed in a hotel in the next town over and as the minibus wound up the cliffs toward our hotel the view of paragliders over the water was magical.

From our beautiful hotel, Keyif Faralya, which overlooked butterfly valley, we could see through hikers trekking the Lycian Way. They camp out or stay in panysions (small guesthouses) along the route which passes through Fetiyhe. All guesthouses offer food for through hikers with affordable options like gözleme pancakes. We didn’t see too many of these crepe-like stuffed pancakes in Istanbul, it seems that they are more popular in the south.

Kalkan, Turkey

Ah, Kalkan, the Brit’s best kept secret. Where again, prices are quoted in pounds, “English Breakfast” abounds, and locals speak with an British accent. Kalkan is a quaint tourist town on a peaceful Mediterranean bay. But as Kate Clow, the Lycian Way Pionner states in her guide book, Kalkan is home to large “unsustainable” villas with careless planning that sit empty most of the year, waste “excessive water” to fill pools and create “visual pollution.” The town spills down the mountainside onto a rocky beach where seaside bars and restaurants overlook the water. The hilly town has Greek origin with characteristic white-washed houses, similar to the nearby Greek Island, a quick boat trip away. In town it’s possible to get lost among the cobblestone labyrinth like alleys. Pops of rich purple and pink blooms against the turquoise water adds a paradise like feel.  Outside of town the surrounding land is largely undeveloped making Kalkan a quiet and peaceful retreat, the tranquilly only broken by the occasional call to prayer or scooter whizzing by. Being such a laid back destination, Kalkan attracts older couples and families.

We ended up in Kalkan after a cancelled house/pit sitting gig. It was our first time using an online housesitting platform and proceeding a friendly video interview, we made a commitment to house sit for a month for a British couple living in Kalkan. The day before we were to arrive, they cancelled via a lengthy jumbled voice message. Very, very, uncool. Disspointed and scrambling to arrange last minute plans, we decided that because we had anticipated spending a month in Kalkan, we would carry through with the initial plan. We had an advantage by visiting in Kalkan during shoulder season (May), where tourists start to visit but haven’t reached their full summertime presence, and we landed a great deal through Airbnb. (Airbnb though legal in Turkey has an array of restriction and hoops to jump through for property owners. Speaking of restrictions, wikipedia is banned in Turkey, proving to be much more of a nuisance then initially expected!) We were in Kalkan during Ramadan, though this was hard to observe. It was really only noticeable with the presence of delicious daily Ramazan pide, sold in the bakeries and supermarkets in the late afternoon. Yum. We thoroughly enjoyed our stay and the quiet morning coffees on our balcony in Kalkan.

Beach Clubs

Kalkan’s small beach has crystal clear water, but the beach itself it rocky. To compensate for this the surrounding hotels offer pools and “beach clubs.” The beach clubs provide sunny oceanside platforms above the water. They allow for ocean access and sunbathing on flat ground. They supply umbrellas and chair-side drink service. The platforms let you sunbath on flat ground with umbrellas and chair-side drink service. If this doesn’t do it for you, there are other stunning beaches are just a short distance away, a standout being Patara Beach.

Patara Beach and Ruins

Patara is Turkey’s longest beach, protected in a National Park it’s a quiet destination. One lone beachfront restaurant claims the beach. It offers food and umbrella rentals. The rest of the beach is unmarred white sand. Behind the beach is an archeological site, the ruins of the ancient city of Patara. We visited both beauties on a day trip from Kalkan.

Food Around Town

The price of food in Kalkan is inflated for tourists, especially around the harbor, but very affordable compared to food back in the states. I’ll use the price of ubiquitous Turkish tea (çay) as my barometer; we saw çay for 1 lira (17 cents) in other cities and in Kalkan, one “fancy” restaurant quoted us 10 lira ($1.70) for the 4 ounce cup of tea. Hard to pay that when you know the actual value of a glass of tea which is poured from a large pot of steeped black tea. That’s not to say that there aren’t more low key and “less frills” options aviable. It is only fair to contrast this bloated price with more local-centric restaurants with owners who encouraged us to linger around after our meal with a complimentary cup of çay.

Kalkan is known for it’s ritzy rooftop restaurants. We splurged at such a place for Scott’s birthday where a bottle of wine, shared appetizer, two entrees, water and dessert rang in under $50. This isn’t typical for us, most of our combined meals at local places cost around $10. 

A real treat in Kalkan is çiğ köfte durum from an unsuspecting little place. It’s a vegetarian’s dream wrap filled with a spicy burger paste, packed with fiber and protein. Add a pickle, parsley, hot sauce, lettuce, pomegranate syrup, spice and everything nice. It’s delicious and less than one dollar. 

Boat Trip

Boat tours are a common daytime activity in Kalkan. We spent a day cruising clear turquoise waters and calm coves around Kekova. The boat passed by a sunken city and the Simena Castle in Kaleköy.

Pistachio

The first night of our stay a bold visitor walked straight across our balcony. Since then, her presence was a daily occurrence. I want to say that we temporarily adopted her, but I think she may have adopted us. We named this sweet little cat, Pistachio. (Who needs pet sitting anyways?) Stray cats are as ubiquitous in Turkey as smoking, çay and hospitality. The top of her ear was clipped, which indicated that she’s been “fixed.” While strays are common the Turkish people tend to be pretty good to them…we’ve noticed many fat, er well-fed, stray dogs. P was a welcomed addition to our stay. We bought her some food and looked forward to her visits and proceeding cuddle sessions. The little scorpion we found in our bathroom, however, was not nearly as delightful. Fortunately, we didn’t see it again. 

After a relaxing month in Kalkan we are rested and ready for some adventure. We’ll leave our extra travel gear at the resort to lighten up our backpacks for the Lycian Way. We’ll miss this little slice of paradise and our precious Pistachio.