Buckaroo, Anyone??

Back on the road today after two absorbing days on the shores of The Dardenelles. I drift asleep as the bus cautiously negotiates the icy roads, driving past a series of promotional roadside Trojan horses, sitting outside numerous cafes and shops. A full 80 minutes of drifting later, and I awake fully to see all the snow has completely gone. The bus temperature display sits at 8 degrees celsius- tropical! The dark, heavy clouds of the Gallipoli peninsula have gone and are replaced by a sky that is a whiter shade of grey. We make our way along the shores of a more inviting Aegean Sea. The mountains persist, but, in turn, finally give way to gentler foothills of agriculture and orchard. The terracotta tiled roofs of European houses return. All I survey has a more Mediterranean feel to it. Has the snow been left permanently behind?

The bus is definitely king when it comes to transporting people along the highway. There is a tremendous network of coaches and buses carrying people all over the country in comfort and style. You can enjoy served food and drink as you watch the world go by. If you get bored with nature, some of these buses have their own personal LCD screens on every seat back. People would be surprised if they came here and caught the X37 from Istanbul. Stopping in at one of the frequent highway diners, I observe a man furiously cleaning a line of buses with a hose strapped on to his brush. There's a real national pride here when it comes to transport.

Driving across a particularly stretched Izmir city, I can't help thinking I'm glad the only thing I will undertake here is to change my bus- It doesn't look all that picturesque to say the least. I grab the last seat on the Dolmus (mini-bus), squeeze my bag in front of me (people on these compact buses must wince when they see backpackers rumbling towards them) and we're instantly off to Selcuk.

Travelling without a guidebook- naked travelling I tell anyone who will listen-requires the tourist information to be the first place I visit on arrival. Todays, this is followed by a short tootle to my nearby pension hotel ( no, this doesn't mean a place for old people). My arrival provides the perfect opportunity to shed about 5kgs of clothes that have been worn out of necessity since I arrived in this country. Now I feel like I'm on holiday. Selcuk nestles under what appears like 360 degrees of low level mountains. It immediately strikes me as having a very relaxed feel, not that it is a small place. However, it is assuredly different to the places I have seen so far, and I like it instantly. We passed a high speed donkey and cart as we entered the city limits; people sell walnuts and oranges out of the back of cars parked around the market square; farmers acknowledge friends and acquaintances as they rattle through the town on their tractors.

When it comes to businesses, the town is the epitome of what I have already observed. There are a huge number of cafes, bars and eateries. Though some have a customary clientele of old men sitting in solitude, reading and thinking whilst they sip their coffees. Most do have a newer, more sociable feel to them. Men play all kind of games here- chess, checkers, Backgammon, cards and a curious looking one rather like scrabble.

I choose a busy looking place for my dinner tonight and end up seated with a very dark skinned local, with a huge, proud moustache, stained by years of smoking. He looks all intense as I sit down, yet a simple hello changes his demeanour. . He doesn't speak a word of English. He pours me a glass of his Raki and we sit in a comfortable silence. I start to make my plans for tomorrow.