August 2023


Where is Ayvalik?


The Ayvalik Area

Cunda
Cunda is a cute little beach town, with a vibrant and colorful vibe. We were charmed by its cobblestone streets,



brightly-colored buildings,



draping bougainvilleas,



and shady lanes.



Popular with Turkish tourists, Cunda has many restaurants, souvenir shops, clothing shops, and ice cream stands, where tourists can spend their holiday lira.

We enjoyed meals at a few of the restaurants, where the meals were tasty, interesting, and inexpensive. One evening, we wandered along cobblestone streets, our favorite way to choose a restaurant, until we were a bit off the waterfront. There we found a cute little restaurant named Sardunya, along a pine-shaded lane.


The lane with Sardunya's tables

As we were perusing the menu out front (it was all in Turkish), a woman approached us and greeted us in Turkish. We looked up, smiled, and said, "Hello," whereupon she seamlessly switched to English, offering to explain the various menu items to us.

She brought us inside to peruse the glass cases holding dozens of different mezes (Turkish appetizers), and told us what each one was. We chose three: cheese-stuffed peppers, a spread similar to tzatziki, and stuffed grape leaves. We also ordered fried zucchini flowers, which was something new for us. They were really tasty and, I thought, a good use for a part of the plant that is usually discarded. For a main dish we chose their "special" köfte (meatballs).


Eric enjoying our Turkish dinner

The food was great, the scenery pleasant, and the entertainment was free: we enjoyed watching the interplay of the people, animals, and vehicles who all wanted to simultaneously use the narrow lane along which Sardunya's tables were arranged. Servers would emerge from the door of the restaurant, plates balanced on their arms, and have to dodge traffic to get to the tables on the other side. Cats and dogs meandered slowly along the lane, or sometimes lay down on its cool stones, requiring people and vehicles to detour around them. Jackdaws - which look very much like crows, but whose squeaky calls sound nothing like them - called from the pines. Scooters, motorcycles, ATVs, cars, and even a delivery truck - that just barely fit between the tables lining each side of the street - came through in both directions, jockeying for position or squeezing past each other and the tourists who were walking there. It was a laid-back and free-flowing scene that was a lot of fun to watch.

According to Lonely Planet, a restaurant named Bahçecik has a fabulous Turkish breakfast, set among fruit trees in a lovely, shady garden. As soon as I read that, I knew that we had to try it. I had no idea that there was such a thing as a Turkish breakfast, but I can report that it IS fabulous!



What's a Turkish breakfast? you might ask. Well, a Turkish breakfast is sampling of many different items. For us, it meant freshly-made donuts; fresh bread; green and black olives; a small salad consisting of cucumbers, tomatoes and rocket (arugula for you Yanks); a dish of red relish similar to Balkan ajvar; a dish of clotted cream in honey, and another dish of clotted cream topped with sour cherries; a dish of sour cherry jam; a dish of scrambled eggs with green peppers; a dish of sliced sausages; and of course çay.


Van enjoying our Turkish breakfast

Eric also ordered some Turkish coffee. Everything was absolutely delicious, and the total bill was only 550 Turkish lira, or about $20 USD.

Cunda's charming and colorful, Greek-inspired architecture is a reminder that this part of Turkey used to be home to many people who ascribed to the Greek Orthodox religion. Similarly, Greece, was once home to many people who followed Islam. Early in the 20th Century, things got really ugly in this part of the world. Barbarous acts were committed. Of course, it was all about religion.

In a ham-handed attempt to end these atrocities, and to try to bring some sort of peace to the region, diplomats crafted the Lausanne Treaty in 1922, which instituted a compulsory population exchange of followers of the two different religions, between Greece and Turkey. It wasn't rocket science; it's the sort of thing you might do when your two kids are fighting - split them up. It doesn't solve the problem, but it does stop the bloodshed. At least for awhile.

The treaty required the Greek Orthodox-practicing people in Turkey to leave their homes and move to Greece, and the Muslims in Greece to move to Turkey. We're talking about a lot of people here: about 1.2 million Greek Orthodox and 400,000 Muslims were forced to leave their homes and everything they'd ever known, move across the Aegean Sea to a place they'd never been, and start over.

I'm not going to continue the downer here so if you want to learn more about this interesting bit of history, you can start with these links:

Cunda Island the untold story

Population exchange between Greece and Turkey

Kumru Köyü
When the wind was predicted to kick up to 30 knots from the NE, we looked for an anchorage that would provide protection from this direction. Around the corner to the south of the Tavuk Island anchorage were a couple of inlets that would fit the bill. My first choice was one called Camlik Köyü, a nearly-landlocked cove that provided good protection from most directions. It also had a restaurant and a bus stop, so we could eat ashore or venture into Ayvalik if we wanted to. When we got there, we discovered lots of holiday homes and a road lining the shore. Unimpressed, we decided that we'd rather anchor at Kumru Köyü, which had caught our attention with its jaw-dropping natural beauty as we'd passed by on our way to Camlik Köyü.

We backtracked to Kumru Köyü, and dropped our anchor there. Our view was nothing but water and rocky shoreline and pines. And it provided good protection from the NE, too. Perfect.




The next morning, before the wind arrived, I paddled around the cove in our kayak



and went ashore, where I collected some sand and pebbles from the beach to add to our collection, and to wander among the pines.



Ah, pines!



Besides Awildian, only two other boats anchored anywhere near us, also hoping to shelter from the wind in this beautiful place.

The wind eventually arrived and spent a couple of days with us, always blowing at least 20 knots, occasionally gusting to 30-35 knots. Obama remained firm in the muddy bottom, carving a comforting and confidence-inspiring arc on our chartplotter, illustrating his prowess.

The Ayvalik Bazaar - Take 1
When the wind had eased to a dull roar, we pulled up our anchor and headed for the anchorage at Ayvalik North.



Today was Thursday, and we'd heard that Ayvalik has a big produce market and bazaar every Thursday. I'd looked online and found a big covered area called the Ayvalik Belediyesi Semt Pazari, which translated to the Ayvalik Municipal Marketplace. This had to be the place. It was at the northern end of town. Conveniently, an anchorage was nearby, so we'd anchor there and walk to the bazaar.

Along the way, we saw a dinghy with three passengers - crew from one of the boats anchored near Awildian - going the same direction as we were, bashing their way against the leftover chop, sometimes taking a wave into the dinghy. One guy in the back was bailing constantly. We decided to see if they might want a lift...

We slowed as we pulled even with them, and I pantomimed them coming aboard. Discussions ensued on the dinghy, and then big smiles and a thumbs up. Eric angled Awildian over toward them, then reduced our speed. While he went to the stern to help them tie their dinghy, and get them on board, I steered Awildian.

One of the men spoke a little English. He was from Latvia; the others were from Ukraine. They were heading to the Ayvalik Marina, and they were very glad not to be pounding their way there anymore. When we got close to the marina, where the waves had settled down quite a bit, we dropped them off, everybody waving as our boats diverged.


Robert and Robyn Kiwi having a look at the nondescript but convenient Ayvalik North anchorage

When Awildian was anchored, we loaded Rolly up with extra shopping bags and our two cute little gas cans, intending to find a petrol station to fill them with dinghy gas. Then we lowered the dinghy, and zipped the short distance to shore, where there were plenty of places along the seawall to tie up. We walked up the hill in the hot sun to the Municipal Market. Along the way, we passed a woman selling a few veggies, but we didn't stop because we were on our way to shop at the big kahuna.

When we reached the market, we realized right away that something was amiss: it was empty. Not a single person was selling anything. Uh oh... We walked back to the woman selling the produce and using Google Translate asked her where the Thursday market was. She pointed down the main road and said (using Google Translate) "That way. About three kilometers."

Wait...the Thursday market isn't at the Municipal Marketplace? Ugh.

We weren't at all keen to walk that far in the hot sun, or to figure out how to get a taxi, so we bought some fruit and veggies from the woman, checked Google Maps to find a petrol station that we could walk to, filled our gas cans there, stopped to buy a few items at a small grocery store.

It's always helpful to have the "Camera" function of Google Translate handy, when shopping for groceries in a foreign country. For instance, what is this?



I'll save you the trouble. It's cheese made from cow's milk.

Other items are a bit easier to decipher...



Then we walked back to our dinghy, sweaty and grumpy. We'd have to wait another week, to experience Ayvalik's Thursday Bazaar.