It was hard to leave Antalya. The old town full of magic and rich with Islamic history. It was quiet as we strolled down the streets to find a good spot to see sunrise. The town was still recuperating from last night’s partying and drinking.we saw people sleeping on the benches as the cleaners trying to scrap every single trash from everywhere. Not a clean bunch of folks after all.
There was an old mosque right in the middle of the old town; beautifully preserved. It looked so old I thought the building was abandoned but it was not. An old madrasa quietly sat among the many alleys in the bazaar.it is now a cultural center. The fact that once upon a time, young children were running around after the lessons made me thinking how beautiful the world had been. Now it was just a ruins for some tourists to take photos.
Every pathway at every alley in this maze of ancient place grabbed me in a special way; so subtle with a mixture of emotions. Mysterious for what life might had been here. Were they as happy as these folks? Did they enjoy the natural beauty the same way that it intrigue me ? What was life back then like? As I scaled up and down the alleys, looking at the bits and pieces that remained, I envied them for being so lucky to have the faith so early in time. So no matter what these people do now to the place, the spirits of yesterday remained to touch my hearts. The vibes were strong and felt the children of madrasa and patrons of that old mosque never left. It’s okay if my rantings sounded like a fairy tale just glad to be there.
As the morning getting warmer, the town started to wake up. I rushed back so not to miss breakfast. The soft yet crunchy bread amazed me everytime I took a bite. The coffee was so-so not as “kicking” as my SIL made it;but it will do for now. This Turkish breakfast had olives, fruits and veggies as part of it together with all kind of cheese.
We dragged, pushed and wheeled the heavy luggage to a tram stop. People looked and greeted us with a smile as we tried to settle, nervously. They showed us the right way, give the seat and made sure we have the right stop. Those would be my precious memory of this trip. I didn’t need some fancy rides or expensive tickets to make this journey memorable.
Anyway, my bus to Konya will be at 2:30 pm. Another long trip to endure. But I am not complaining as it has been so fantastic so far. Alhamdulillah.
