A Brief Parting of Ways

Back in 2004, when I was 19, I went to Turkey for the first time in 11 years with my dad. It was only a three week trip and because I hadn’t been there in so long and because we had family there, I decided to let dad take the lead. With the little time we had, there was only so much we could see in Istanbul when we still needed to visit his hometown of Of (about 40-50 km from Trabzon), his childhood home in Ankara and his in-laws in Marmaris.

It was as our domestic flight was approaching Dalaman airport to get to Marmaris that I had an interesting conversation with an archaeology student from the University of Izmir. She was heading to a site in a place called Knidos to meet other students from her university for an assignment. A few days later, while in Marmaris, I decided I needed to go to this place at least to make a part of this trip my own.

I managed to convince dad to lend me the rental car for the day. He was only going to walk around and go to the beach anyway, and besides, we could visit Bodrum tomorrow… ideally in the morning, when bar owners wielding the broken legs of stools weren’t chasing belligerent and bloodied patrons down a crowded street.

I drove down Marmaris Datça Yolu, which sits on the isthmus of the Datça peninsula. The road is flanked mostly by hills and tiny shrubs, as well as the Aegean, north, and the Mediterranean, south. I arrived at my destination and was greeted by the terrible thought that I should have brought my camera. In front of me was the ocean, the sun sitting atop it and a Greek island to either side of the sun like two hands slowly moving in for an awkward embrace. There was a curiously empty-looking outpost-like structure on one of the islands that I wish had asked someone about.

I spotted the archaeology students but couldn’t find the friend I’d made on the flight. No matter, because the contents of the site more than made up for it. Here were the remnants of an ancient Greek city and with only me and the students there, it felt like tourists had barely touched it yet. The highlight was a Greek theatre. The students didn’t care as I ran along the theatron – where the spectators would sit – and leapt onto the orchestra, a circular, elevated space in the middle. I rushed up to the highest point in Knidos and sat there for who knows how long before deciding to go for a swim in the beach.

Floating in that crystal clear water, I decided this was it: the rest of my life would have to measure up to this moment. As soon as the sun began to set, I dried myself, waved goodbye to the students, and drove back to Marmaris.