Datca

M. Having read our books and enjoyed some relaxing swimming, we decided it was time to move on. ‘Windy’ forecast strong Meltemi winds over the following 2-3 days , with steady winds of  20 knots and frequent gusts of over 30 knots, so we decided to aim for Datca whilst the going was good. Leaving the bay, a very large turtle appeared and swam alongside. He looked laconically at us, with a hard stare suggesting that we were annoying him in some way, before he slid away. We felt duly reprimanded for our general existence.

We had a fantastic day sailing, beating into steady warm winds of 15-20kn, Which then became a Southerly reach for the last 8 miles. It was like being blasted along by a hairdryer, and we arrived in Datca in late afternoon. We have now become old hands at arrival procedures  there and knew the drill. The harbourmaster is professional and efficient, giving clear instructions through blasts on his whistle and help on berthing. However for some reason he decided to tuck us into the slots usually reserved for the large gullets, and it was somewhat unnerving to have these huge boats sliding in beside us. However they do it every day with huge aplomb and we were duly impressed, not only by the beautiful carpentry of the boats, but the skills of the skippers.

Lovely!

Unlike other commercial enterprises, these boats are built to sail. They are beautiful and impressive with all their sails up. Whatsmore it seems that even on day trips they do endeavour to sail when possible, rather than just motor about. Lovely.

I like Datca more each time we arrive. It was about 20 years ago when we first visited, with the fateful rock incident, and since then there has been significant change. It has grown many fold from the small one street harbour town into a thriving tourist town, Yet despite this growth and prosperity it has  flourished in a very positive way.
 The harbour side restaurants have blossomed into booming businesses, but have invested in improvement rather than quick bucks. They are festooned with bougainvillea and vine- shady alleyways. Civic improvements include a very splendid mosque and town square. Along the promenade beautiful marble sculptures alternate with shaded park areas where there are wonderful childrens’ play areas and gym equipment. In the evenings a selection of stalls open, mainly selling jewellery and various grades of touristy tat. Who could resist? Certainly not I, who found some lovely treasures of silver and semiprecious jewellery at a snip.

Jolly fruit vendors

Walking along in the evening we are accompanied by the call to prayers echoing around the bay, a starlit night and the fragrance of pines and kebabs.
 Crowds of young people congregate , with the girls all beautiful and glamorous, some wearing traditional garb with demure scarves and others in the group wearing minis skirts and typical European teenage gear. Other groups have Mum in full Muslim attire, with daughters sporting trendy fashions. I’d love to know how this mix of culture works. It all seems to be tolerated in these parts.Our understanding of social nuance is handicapped by our lack of language skills, it would be nice to be able to interact more.

Our berth sat just under the yacht club bar with doof doof music vibrating through our hull until the small hours. Whatever. We have a few days to chill with nothing imperative expected and listening to favourite rock numbers from the 80s has a certain nostalgic value.

…..But bring your earplugs.

The wind duly came and howled through the town.

Peppery

Saturday wanderings brought me to the market, after a fairly haphazard wander about. What a find ! An area about the size of an aircraft hangar was filled with hundreds of stalls.

My attention was drawn to 2 in particular where local women congregated with a noisy clamour, and arms flailing wildly about. It transpired that these stalls sold factory reject clothes, and fabrics. Everything 5 lira !!!! Shirts, T shirts, dresses at about 70p each. Wonderful. It was like a church jumble sale … but much more polite. Every so often the stall holder dived into the well of clothes and chucked every thing into the air, and again a frenzy of activity ensued. My sort of delight.

The rest was full of market stalls selling fruit and veg. No plastic in sight. Just mountains of fantastic produce. Big fat peaches and mountains of peppers. 6 lira a Kg…. About 80p. This is obviously where the locals buy all their food. People were carrying groaning bags of tomatoes, onions, peppers and fruit.

I think this is what is meant by Mediterranean diet, and the results are clear in the generally fit and slim population that we see around us. Food for thought.

We felt we needed some exercise and decided to walk to Eski Datca. This is a preserved old village and well recommended in all the tourist guides. It was a  hot walk uphill for 3.6km out of town but a bit of an anticlimax when we arrived. There were several reconstructed houses and shady pathways but on the whole it had been overtaken by hotels and pubs. A welcome beer was imbibed before the walk home. It fulfilled the exercise requirement but on the whole not an experience worth recommending.

We swithered about whether to leave on Monday, but I just loved the place so much we stayed for another day . However we had to leave our friendly and helpful gullet skippers and move back to the yachtie area. Once again we had to face the barricade of various nationality of skippers standing on the prow yelling about anchors and pointing in random directions . We have developed a sure response of smiling indifference, that never fails.

I love Datca.