Olympos to Fethiye

When planning this trip I had put in much time and attention to, obviously, where I wanted to go and how long I would spend in each place. It took about a week to start falling behind my unrealistic breakneck schedule and it took about two months to start rearranging the itinerary. After Olympos I was headed to Pamukkale and then Ephesus which is an eight hour overnight bus ride. So on the morning of my departure I was casually speaking with fellow travelers who had taken a four day yacht trip west, which is precisely the direction I wanted to go, and had great reviews about the experience. So I thought “Hmmm, eight hour overnight smelly bus ride to some dried up salt fields I can see in Yosemite or four days sailing the Mediterranean coast on a yacht?”.It was a really tough decision but I finally chose the boat.
These rides can be a crapshoot and there were stories coming back from the frontlines about getting stuck on the old person sleeper boat where the guests are in bed by nine and up at six or being grouped with a wild pack of hard drinking, hard partying nineteen year old college kids. So I was thrilled when most of our group turned out to be appropriately aged, intelligent and easy going which made my ride fabulous. Other than a third night meltdown by a noise sensitive German who wanted a five star cruise liner rather than a floating backpacker hostel things went very smooth; no one involuntarily fell overboard or got seasick.
The trip was well planned out and the boat would casually make it’s way past coastal towns, of which we would stop and explore, or secluded coves with names like Butterfly Island where we could swim to the beach, hike around and call out for Gilligan and Maryann. The afternoons were spent lounging in the sun, reading, swimming or playing backgammon and by late afternoon we would anchor down, have a cocktail and a great dinner, listen to music and stargaze under a pile of blankets. I also had the opportunity to feed my adventurous side with a first time trip paragliding over the sparkling Mediterranean Sea in the spot where I was told they practice for the Olympics. I think it’s just the plane I don’t like because after drumming up the courage to run off a cliff the ride was incredibly serene. It was sad to finally dock as this lady of leisure could have continued on to see the rest of the world by yacht.