Erin and I were lucky enough to squeeze in a ski vacation (our first) to Austria at the end of December. I want to do a post about it as well, but this story is devoted to Turkey. For now, you can read Erin's report from the Alps here.
Back in Turkey in January, we were glad to find the Anatolian plains slowly donning their winter coat. These hills, that seem so stark and unforgiving in the dry summer, take on a new face when painted with snow. We had about four solid days of snow on the ground here in Ankara, and it was a pleasure to cast a glance out at the snow filled mountains and plan our next escape to the Turkish Ski Resorts.
In mid-January, we convinced our friends Simon and Khadijah to join us for another weekend at Kartalkaya. We bribed them with stories of mulled wine, rack of lamb, and saunas. We didn't tell them about the fog, cold, and the general bitter nature of learning to ski where you tend to spend more time sitting in the snow, than skiing down it.
Being British, and with James Bond's genes surging through his veins, Simon quickly picked up skiing and was making parallel turns by the end of the day. His smile and enthusiasm were contagious, and made me miss my days of teaching in the outdoors with Outward Bound. Khadijah, being from Pakistan, is not someone who takes to the snow naturally:) However, she is an incredibly good sport, and as determined as a Pakistani-goat...so, she too, by the end of day one, skied from the top of the mountain. Granted, part of that was hanging on to the back of a mustached Turkish ski patrol, but, bloody hell, she did it!
As was promised to our friends after a hard day learning to ski, the food, free wine and beer, and indoor heated pools worked to relax sore muscles. Beers in a hot-tub are magical. Simon and I even stayed up late enough to catch a Turkish musical act in the late-nite bar. I caught plenty of looks for my newly acquired ski hat from Tyrol, Austria.
On Sunday, our fellow tele-skier, Carrie Simpson joined us via the "ski-bus" from Ankara. Carrie learned to ski on telemark skis, and has great form. If only I could have seen it more often. Sadly, like our first day, Kartalkaya was again covered in fog. This seems to be a theme here, the advantage being that the resort seems much bigger when you can't see it!
When time came to make our way home, I proudly presented tire chains for Buddha, our Nissan Terrano. This was a lesson learned on our previous visit to Kartlalkaya. You see, the roads don't get fully plowed in Turkey. It's not that they don't have the ability, they do, but the icy roads offer an ingenious commerical plan by the local farmers who have jack-shit to do in the winter. Positioned every quarter mile, on the narrow road up the resort, are farmers with their tractors, ready to pull tourists out of the ditch (for a fee, or course) when they inevitably slide in. Some people swear that the farmers actually pour water on the road at night, just to make it MORE treacherous. I don't believe that they are that malicious, in fact, I kind of admire their creative capitalism. There's a demand, they provide the supply; and let's face it, when your car is in a ditch, you'll gladly pay anything to get it out. However, as I was now in possession of a fully chained and four wheel drive diesel truck, I happily waved at the friendly farmers as I cruised pass their tractors, proud that I didn't need to hire thier services (though secretly glad to know they were there if I did).
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