We got our traps loaded up early onto a van and said goodbye
to Sirince; again we were dropped off at the travel agency.
This time a different assortment of tourists and an earnest
young guide who had learned English in the army. Our
destination, the travertines of Pamukkale, was a 3-hour bus
ride each way with 3 hours at our destination. In retrospect
an inefficiency, but what did we know. Perhaps the
destination was worth it - certainly it was unique.

We started out late, and then there was this obligatory
rest stop, where lokoum and pomegranate juice were being
sold at double what they cost even at the other tourist
traps ... I just went to the gas station next door and
got a liter of Efes Dark for about the price of a juice.

And then there was the flat tire, which stretched our short
stop into quite a lengthy one, with the result that we
rolled into town nearly an hour late.

During the trip our guide was very dry and very earnest.
Informative, too, I grant, and charming in a charmless sort
of way.

Lunch at another tourist trap right within sights of the
famous travertine terraces was somewhat better than the
previous lunch at a tourist trap, with more selection,
fresher food, and actually some protein dishes.

The weird tasteless desserts, which were sort of like the
Chinese agar unspeakabilities, only less sweet, were a
source of hilarity among those at table.

Pamukkale Senfoni 07 (a Shiraz-Merlot blend) is quite
respectable, not overwrought or oversweet or any of those
common things: good but subdued black fruit, licorice,
longish dryish soft finish. It tasted like an older wine,
to tell the truth. We later found it available another
place at E75 the bottle, about 8x what we paid.

A slightly rushed trip through Hierapolis, the Greek/Roman
city built around the baths, Cleopatra's Pool, where for an
extra ten or so you can soak your troubles away in the
mineral waters, and the travertines themselves, impressive
formations formed similarly to cave deposits, only with warm
water rather than cold. We had the chance to wade in the
waters, piped in to artificially enhanced structures (if the
public were given access to the real ones as they were being
formed, they would never be formed, let's face it). The
Hierapolis museum, which gathers some of the more
interesting finds from the city digs, is small but nice.

We were supposed to get back at 6, but with the delay, that
was pushed back to 6:30. Supposedly, the van was supposed to
leave at 7, so we showed up at 7, not having time for supper
but just a beer at the Pink Bistro. No van. Turns out others
were told 7:15. You should see lili's eyes flash when she
deals with an idiot. She turned into a tigress at the
nonplussed travel agent as apparently everyone takes the
budget airline at 9:30 (At-a-loss or Onan or something) and
there's no allowance in the system for anyone on TK at 9,
which we were. The agent tried to maintain his joviality as
he promised us that the van would leave immediately; so we
were trooped to the parking lot where - of course - we
waited on board for a huge time. Even my patience was tried,
as if we'd known we could have had a nice little supper. It
turns out two guys figured they weren't going to show up
until 7:40, which was the time they figured was appropriate
for the 9:30 flight. They were located, with recriminations
all round, and we got underway about 7:30. Arrived at the
airport at 8:15 for a 9:05 flight. Luckily security was
pretty quick.

We hadn't had Internet and hadn't been smart enough to ask
the travel agent to get seats for us, so we were assigned
two middle seats. At least mine was in the exit row. In our
15 minutes in the TK lounge, where I had decent lentil soup
and some bad cake, I tried to enlist the agent's aid in
getting us seats together; she checked and regretfully said
that we had the best seats available (no op-ups for Star
Golds even on a medium-priced fare, H or something).

1007 TK2337 ADB IST 2105 2215 321 11B, 12B

Flow control made this a later departure and a longer
flight than it should have been, so I grabbed the seat in
front and pulled often, something like that, just for
giggles. I can be extremely juvenile when I feel like, and
it's a wonder my travel partners put up with me.

A meal of sorts, not bad for what it was. A chicken sandwich
- flavorful marinated chicken breast on flavorless American-
style sub roll - was sided with salad, minty tabboule, and
a pleasantly flabby pannacotta that reminded me of that
chicken-breast pudding, only without the chicken. No alcohol
as it was a domestic flight, so I just had water, which
seemed to distress the pleasant FA. No coffee? Tea? Juice?
No, thanks, if you don't have that lovely Efes beer that
I've become accustomed to, I'll close my eyes and imagine
that this water in front of me is Miller Lite.

We screeched in for a very hard landing, which caused shouts
of dismay on board and a bit of buzz on the jetway after.