Not an Idle Dreamer

(A discourse on the hard labour involved in a life of frivolity and grand plans revealed)

It's been ages since I've posted to the dreaming track. I've been leaving all the blog work up to poor Doug, who does a much better job at blogging things anyway. I have been keeping myself honestly busy in other ways, though I have a great deal of trouble getting anyone to believe it :)

The only two people who do know how much work I put into dreaming up schemes are Doug and my mother (both of whom seem to think I have a touch of the old OCD). I feel compelled to defend myself against frequent accusations of idle hedonism from those who don't (I am only a hedonist on odd days) and I want to tell you all about the exciting plans we've been cooking up.

"Just a number of small barbeques" he said...

"Near Adratchan, not far from the ruins of Olympus, a number of rounded serpentine hills rise among the limestone, and some of them bear up masses of that rock. At the junction of one of these masses of scaglia with the serpentine, is the Yanar, famous as the Chimaera of the ancients, rediscovered in modern times by Captain Beaufort. It is nothing more than a stream of inflammable gas issuing from a cavern, such as is seen in several places among the Apennines. The serpentine immediately around the flame is burnt and ashy, but this is only for a foot or two, the immediate neighborhood of the Yanar presenting the same aspect as it wore in the days of Seneca, who writes 'Laeta itaque regio est et herbida, nil flammis adurentibus.' Such is the Chimaera deprived of all its terrors. It is still, however, visited as a lion by both Greeks and Turks, who make use of its classic flames to cook kebabs for their dinners."

So wrote T.A.B. Spratt in his 1847 tome "Travels in Lycia, Milyas and the Cibyratis, in company with the late Rev. E. T. Daniel"

Hmph. I think ol' Spratty, like any tourist stuck in a group (no disrespect intended to the poor Reverend) didn't have the time to see this place at it's best. That, or he suffered from a distinct lack of imagination. Maybe even both.

Here be Faeries: Adventures in the Gardens of the Neo-Hip

We thought we'd spend a few nights at Butterfly Valley, a canyon near Fethiye that Lonely Planet described as a "paradise found".

Istanbul to Fethiye

          Istanbul: Worshipper at Hagia Sophia's renowned Sweating Column"           Temple of Serapis, then Church of the Apocalypse, now a ruin. Pergamon's Red Basilica           Selçuk: Afternoon ride           Bergama (Pergamon): Late afternoon in the gloriously dilapidated old stone town           Efes (Ephesus): The 2nd century Roman Library of Celsus           Pamukkale (Hierapolis): Taking the cure at the travertine pools           Pamukkale: Day's last light reflected in the travertine pools           Hierapolis: Evening at the theatre           Fethiye (Telmessos): The rock-cut Lycian tombs that fill the cliffs above town           Fethiye: Evening view from tomb at upper right in thunbnail at left Istanbul: Worshipper at Hagia Sophia's renowned Sweating Column"