Aran and Tracey snoozing
Brubin at the beach
Brubin on the defensive
Brubin and Aran at the park
Brubin and Molly playing grass alligator
Aran and Tracey snoozing
Brubin at the beach
Brubin on the defensive
Brubin and Aran at the park
Brubin and Molly playing grass alligator
“Sarah Palin, who presents herself as half of a Republican team of maverick reformers, yesterday edged away from her outmoded views on climate change, conceding for the first time that the problem might be man-made.
The admission from Palin, during an interview with ABC television, brings the Republican running mate into line with the views of the party’s presidential nominee, John McCain. “I’m attributing some of man’s activities to potentially causing some of the changes in the climate right now,” she told ABC’s Charlie Gibson.
The statement contradicted Palin’s assertions within the past year that she did not believe global warming is a result of human activity. The Alaska governor strenuously denied expressing such doubts in her ABC interview, but she told the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner newspaper last December: “I’m not an Al Gore, doom-and-gloom environmentalist blaming the changes in our climate on human activity.”
Even so, yesterday’s acknowledgment of a human component in climate change was grudging – and Palin still supports drilling in the Arctic wilderness preserve, which McCain opposes.
She also suggested that agreeing on the causes of climate change bore no relation to finding a solution, and left open the possibility that the phenomenon was merely cyclical. “Regardless of the reason for climate change, whether it’s entirely, wholly caused by man’s activities or is part of the cyclical nature of our planet … John McCain and I agree that we gotta do something about it.”
The exchange came during a series of three interviews Palin granted to ABC, her only exposure to the national media since McCain chose her as his running mate a fortnight ago.
Most of Palin’s responses during those interviews seemed carefully scripted, almost a recitation of Republican talking points absorbed during intense cramming sessions with McCain campaign aides.
Critics saw her performance as evidence that she was not conversant with many of the issues that would occupy a vice-president, especially matters of foreign policy. She was on shaky ground on several occasions. At a military ceremony on Thursday, Palin again clung to an outmoded world view, linking the Iraq war to al-Qaida and the 9/11 attacks. The Washington Post reported that Palin told a contingent of troops deploying to Iraq, including her son, Track, that they would “defend the innocent from the enemies who planned and carried out and rejoiced in the death of thousands of Americans”.
Palin exposed other gaps on national security issues. She told ABC that Washington should not intervene if Israel decided to attack Iranian nuclear facilities, and she adopted a far more hawkish posture towards Russia than Bush, going so far as to commit US troops to the defence of Georgia and Ukraine if attacked.
Yesterday, Barack Obama’s camp was scouring the transcripts of the Palin interviews as part of what it called a bold new strategy to counter a string of Republican attacks. The change of tack comes after mounting Democratic concerns that Obama is not hitting back hard enough.
The Republicans have made a number of false assertions against Obama, accusing him of personally insulting Palin by using the phrase “lipstick on a pig” to describe McCain’s economic policies and of supporting explicit sex education for five-year-olds.”
Better pray the Republicans are not elected –
Not too far from the Mediterranean coast, inland past Manavgat, you will find the Koprulu Canyon. Lots of local tour companies bring people here to go rafting; the river itself is not that difficult to navigate but it’s good for beginners.
Both times that I visited the canyon, it was screaming hot. As you can see, the land here is really dry – this past August a forest fire near this area was the largest on record.
Here’s the canyon itself – fantastic turquoise water and fantastically cold. The contrast between the 50 degree heat of the sunny day and the glacial water is extreme. Many local people come here to sit in the shade and to BBQ.
Here some local boys come down to the river to play. Turkey has thousands of kilometers of coastline but, as a rule, most Turks cannot swim – unfortunately, many drown during the summer.
Here the young boys are jumping into the river from a tree and, hopefully, remerging.
The villagers in this area live as they have done for hundreds of years. Here a shepherd, watching his flock at the riverside, peeks through the trees.
Not too far from this riverside site, a drive up a very twisty and narrow mountain road brings you to Altinkaya (Golden Stone), from where you have a wonderful view over the valley.
To see more, click here.
Pushed by the exorbitant BC Ferries rate raises – 14 % in 2 months – and the fact that my commuting costs were becoming punishing, I have decided to go green this Fall. Going green means that, every second week, I will be riding my bicycle from Vancouver to Nanaimo on Vancouver Island, rather than driving my car. This is a light green commute as opposed to the full-on GREEN, since I need my car every other week to drive up to the North Island to teach. Janice and I are carpooling and taking turns driving.
I parked my car in a parking lot in West Van, unhooked my bike from the bikerack, attached my nifty waterproof saddlebags (a must here on the Wet Coast – the deluge will begin soon, no doubt) and headed off to the ferry. The first week back at school I had arranged to stay at Bev and Sandy’s B&B in Nanaimo. So … after an hour and three-quarters on the ferry, I rode my bicycle along the cycle path on the old island highway, up hill and over dale, to Bev and Sandy’s to pick up the key to my room. Luckily, unbeknownst to me earlier, the B&B is very close to the Island Parkway multi-use trail and I was able to access the trail very quickly. The ride into the University along the trail, on a beautiful sun-lit day, was fabulous.
I arrived at my office on the hill sweaty and a bit tired an hour and a half after exiting the ferry. The biggest problem with the commute so far was getting the bike and bags and backpack up to my office – all that luggage was a bit heavy. Anyway, I carried it all up the stairs and into the elevator and parked the whole lot in my office, in which there was not a whole lot of room left, after all that gear was installed. I just hope that it did not smell too much like a gym locker room … thankfully, there is a changing room with showers just next door.
The light green commute is also the inexpensive commute – I searched out the most economical, yet decent, accommodations that I could find in Nanaimo. I have to say that Bev and Sandy’s place is a gem.
Here is the garden room bed, my gear, and me, documenting the moment with my cellphone camera.
The room was great, especially the private washroom with heated tile floors! The place also has a small common room for each of the 2 bedrooms, with 2 small fridges and a selection of breakfast goodies. Outside there’s a garden and places to relax; unfortunately, I didn’t have time to enjoy that this time. Here is the link to Bev and Sandy’s place; I can highly recommend it!
I also spent a night on Janice’s pull out day bed – here’s Tia checking things out:
The first week of the green commute was a success – I rode about 15 miles in pleasant weather without screwing up my knees too much.
Myself and a friend decide to cycle from Side to the Manavgat waterfalls on very hot, sunny day. It must have been 45 degrees and we were riding in the heat of the day, our destination the two waterfalls near Manavgat. The first one we intended to visit was the smaller of the two; we stopped at a deserted restaurant bar on the Manavgat River on our way.
As you can see by the picture below, the small waterfall is more or less as advertised – small. The water here is a beautiful colour and glacial cold – thank God in this screaming heat!
From here, we cycled to the large waterfall. Because it was bombed by terrorists a couple of years ago, visitors to this site now have to go through a metal detector and inspection before being allowed in.
This is the larger of the two Manavgat waterfalls; it has a large restaurant/ shop/ terrace complex right next to the river. The river itself is a fantastic turquoise-emerald colour.
Downstream from the Manavgat waterfall, young kids jump from the rocks and trees into the water here (and sometimes don’t come out again …).
Lisa looking hot and tired at the Manavgat waterfall. Cycling here is not too bad; the roads are decent and the topography is mostly flat. However, the one hazard is the heat and potential sunstroke …
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance. (Kahlil Gibran)
These pictures were taken at sunset in the cemetery of Side-Kemer.
The pictures below are of a cemetery in the trees near the village of Gundogmus (Sunrise) in the Taurus Mountains about one hundred kilometers from Side.
Wilfried convinced me to accompany him on a balloon ride over the Cappadoccian landscape. Being scared of heights and terrified of fire is not a good combination for balloon-riding; here, waiting at the Goreme U.F.O. museum while the balloon people decided whether the weather was good enough to fly, I look as though I’m not quite sure it’s a good idea.
However, after waiting for two hours, they decided it was a go and several trucks came roaring in, all pulling trailers with huge balloons in them.
Balloons come in a few different sizes; ours was a 12-seater (although they had no seats – standing room only). It was quite fascinating watching the balloons being inflated; I couldn’t help thinking about the possibilities of flaming balloon death, though. Each time the propane was turned on to inflate the balloon, it exited the tank with a great big whoosh.
I also found it somewhat disconcerting that absolutely everyone associated with the balloon business smoked … I wasn’t sure the extent to which that was dangerous, given the circumstances.
However, I did get into the balloon basket and we did ascend over the Cappadoccian landscape, along with about 13 other balloons at various heights in the sky.
We sailed quietly over the Red Canyon with only the occasional whoosh of flame as the balloon’s pilot sent us higher and higher.
Below is a picture of the view from the balloon, with Uchisar castle in the background.
I did keep a death grip on the balloon the entire time we were aloft; apparently we rose to about 1,600 meters (can that be right?!) at one point.
Once safely back on solid ground, the balloon crew gave us both champagne and a certificate of flight.
Thanks to Wilfried for the great photos of the balloon flight! On our way back to Side, we stopped at the Mevlana Museum in Konya, home of the Sufi mystic and poet Rumi and his followers, the Whirling Dervishes, whose dances, the Sema, Rumi developed, and the site of Rumi’s sarcophagus.
The garden surrounding the Museum has beautiful flowers and grave markers with elaborately carved calligraphy.
In 2007-8 I created a book work dedicated to Rumi; to see it, and others from the Book of Hours series, click here and here.
While in Turkey, I took a three day tour around Cappadoccia. Once again in a small minibus, 14 of us, plus the guide Mahmut, the driver “our Captain”, and his un-named uncle, hit the road early in the morning heading out over the Taurus mountains from Side to Konya.
While driving through the mountains, we could see several nomadic families at work in the hills.
Somewhere out on the road between Side and Konya the minibus broke down – flat tire. No safety gear was in evidence so the driver’s uncle brought out his briefcase and put it in the middle of the road to warn other drivers that we had broken down. This action caused on-coming drivers to pause briefly before roaring past us –
Our first stop, after repairing the bus and arriving in Cappadoccia, was an underground city – here’s our fearless leader Mahmut Akman.
This place was fascinating, all tufa stone, darkness and yellow lights.
Local women descended on the minibus, hundreds of hand-made dolls in hand, selling for absurdly small amounts of money.
Our next stop was Uchisar, with its gigantic rock “castle”, and Pigeon Valley.
Below is a close-up of the Uchisar castle top.
Below is a Nazar Boncuk tree in Uchisar – the evil eye protector.
The Cappadoccian landscape is beautiful; on this trip, it was also cold. I had packed expecting 35 degree sunny weather; however, it turned out to be about 20 degrees and drizzly rain, occasionally clearing to a slate grey sky. As part of my outerware for this tour, I wore a large black garbage bag under my shawl – this turns out to be a very effective jacket against the cold and wet. Below is a picture of part of our intrepid little group.
Here we’re climbing a ladder to see the Rock Church frescoes.
Inside the Rock Church are Byzantine era frescoes, from the historical period in which Christians and Muslims side-by-side in this area.
The Cappadoccian landscape is full of so-called “fairy chimneys” whose phallic connotations should be obvious –
It is rather disconcerting to travel through a landscape of erect penises.
The women in this area make amazing handcrafts: here a woman is selling her handmade embroidery.
This woman spoke almost every conceivable language at least enough to sell her products. As part of our tour, Mahmut took us to several factories producing and selling local goods. The ceramic factory in Avanos had some spectacular items; here workers display how their wares are made.
These wine flasks are replicas of Hittite era flasks.
The glaze work and painting on these is amazing.
Our group appears mesmerised as they watch the craftsman work.
Alexandra seems happy with her small fairy chimney replica …
Here’s the showroom full of an enormous number of vessels of all descriptions.
After the ceramic factory demo, it was off to an abandoned Greek village. As Karballa, or Gelveri, Güzelyurt was a prosperous Ottoman-Greek town specializing in farming and goldsmithing.The League of Nations population exchange following World War I took its hundreds of Greek-speaking families to Greece, where they founded the town of Nea Karvali. The exchange brought Muslim families from the Greek towns of Kastoria and Kozan to re-populate Karballa, now renamed Güzelyurt (“Beautiful Home”).
Our Captain and Mahmut fed this very hungry Cappadoccian puppy kidney meat which he wolfed down without a pause.
Some people here are still living the troglodyte (cave-dwelling) life. This cave house is still being used today – apparently it stays 22 degrees inside all year round, whatever the weather outside.
I bought a beautiful handmade shawl from this woman, the one she has over her right shoulder.
I found the plethora of items for sale at the Onyx factory we visited absolutely amazing. Once again, though, there were just way too many objects to even contemplate selecting any one object. Here’s a sample:
After the onyx factory and its objects-in-excess, our group made its way to the Yusuf Rock Church, with its ceiling frescoes of the risen Christ and saints.
After that, in a bit of a whirl, we visited a carpet factory …
its dying room …
And then, off to Turkish Night at a large converted cave house in Avanos, with its Whirling Dervishes
and dance troups.
In June 2008 I spent three weeks on the South Mediterranean coast of Turkey based at Side, an ancient town, beach resort and the love playground, in history, of Anthony and Cleopatra. The Turks are famous, or notorious, as masterful merchants and hagglers – one cannot walk down any street in this town without being accosted from all sides by persons trying to sell every conceivable consumable.
This is the main drag down to the harbour; many a time I zoomed down here on my rickety rental bike, brakes shreaking as I narrowly missed running into yet another oblivious tourist. It is a mystery to me how it is that people become so catatonic on holidays …
At night the place really comes alive; tourists arrive in swarms, herds, masses – and crowd the narrow streets of the town until the early hours of the morning. While there were many very beautiful things for sale, I found the sheer numbers of everything to be overwhelming and paralyzing and essentially not very conducive to purchasing any one thing. Take, for example, this representative boutique:
Not a space to breathe anywhere.
The back streets were much easier, and more pleasant often, to navigate. I had a fantastic apartment in a site called Athena Evleri; two bedrooms, two balconies, two bathrooms on two levels – called a Dublex. The apartment overlooked the pool and gardens, the latter with a huge and beautiful wisteria tree.
The pool was fantastic, especially on those mornings when it was 38 degrees by 6:30 am.
This particular complex has mostly Norwegian owners; two couples who were there when I was come from the same part of Norway that my mother’s family hails from, Trondheim.
From the front door of my apartment, one can see rows and rows of holiday apartments, all with solar heating panels on their roofs. From the apartment to the town beach was a quick zip on my bike, about 10 or 15 minutes. Here one can rent an umbrella and lounge chair for 3.5 YTL a day (about $2.25). People in the tourist industry here work like slaves, from 9 in the morning until midnight for the most part, with only a short break in the afternoon. Between 2 and 4 local men – waiters, bartenders, shopkeepers – descend on the beach to swim, play ball and sunbathe.
The temperature during the time I was here ranged from a low of about 35 up to around 50. The sand on the beach was scorching, impossible to walk on with bare feet. The umbrella was a necessity for me; while I love the sun and the warmth, I can’t take it beating down on me for hours on end.
Here’s a view looking down the town beach with Sorgun Forest in the background.
Very few local women are on view here; sometimes, though, in the middle of the afternoon for an hour or two women would bring their children down to play on the beach. Some, like this woman, were in full cover dress – must have been excruciating in 50 degree heat. Here’s my friend Ann Marie emerging like Aphrodite from the waves.
One of the ruins for which Side is famous is the Temple of Apollo, seen here at sunset, a pilgrimage destination for photographers.
The temple of Apollo is right next to the harbour; the sunsets here are beautiful.
The temple pediment has beautiful carved heads, of Apollo, Aphodite and lions.
While I was in Turkey, I was conducting research for my art project entitled Ruination. This entailed travelling to various ancient sites, and photographing their ruined structures. One such trip was to Kekova, Demre and Myra, further west along the Mediterranean coast from Side.
The landscape on the road from Antalya to Kekova is dry, dry, dry with lots of tiny pine trees and scrub. About 14 of us travelled in a minibus, leaving Side at 5:15 in the morning. We stopped at the Sorbet Surprise just outside Antalya for breakfast; here one would have sworn we were in Russia; all the signs were in Russian, the music was Russian, the Turkish salespeople spoke Russian – madly loud, with cowbells (?) being rung every two minutes – the noise was enough to drive me out onto the street seeking shelter. Our driver, a big, burly man, confided in me that he had 4 wives, 8 children, and 15 girlfriends and that he hadn’t slept in 4 days … he also worked two jobs and ran a doner shop to keep this brood in business. I had visions of a flaming, fiery death on the Turkish highway as our minbus careened up hills and around corners on the highway to Kekova.
We did arrive safely in Kale, a tiny harbour town on the Med coast, on the way to see the ancient city on and underneath the island of Kekova. Kekova is a submerged port dating back to the 5th century bce, when Lycia was an important kingdom in this region. The Lycian capital was Xanthos, an hour west of Kekova, from where King Sarpedon, who fought in the Trojan Wars, originally came.
A Lycian necropolis, with chest-type tombs spread out along the coastline, lies at Teimiussa, near the present-day Ucagiz on the mainland across from Kekova.
In this neighbourhood tombs and sarcophagi are everywhere. Below is a picture of an ogival Lycian rock tomb in Kale (Ancient Simena).
The harbour and landscape here are beautiful; after our long journey along the windy highway we arrived in one piece at the harbour where we boarded a wooden tour boat to the island of Kekova.
Along the edge of Kekova, facing the mainland, lie the half-submerged remains of a Lycian sunken city.
Here are the remains of buildings and walls beneath the water and staircases leading to nowhere.
Kekova really is like a dreamscape … after a boat ride, a swim in the ocean, then onto the minibus once again and on the road to Demre, whose claim to fame is the church of jolly old St. Nicholas.
The Church of St Nicholas, a Christian saint and Bishop of Myra, in Demre was pretty much a non-event. Not much of the original church actually remains, although there are some beautiful frescoes still evident on the walls and ceiling.
Inside the church I saw a small cat who appeared to be praying to ol’ St Nick.
He appeared to be a very sentient beast …
Another very fascinating site was the temple and rock tombs of Myra
Many of the tombs have log cabin features carved into the rock, presumably reflecting the domestic architecture of the period. A few easily accessible ones have inscriptions in the Lycian language. Carvings above are mostly in poor repair but the overall effect of this jumble of the architecture of death is dramatic.
These are absolutely amazingly beautiful. Most of the tombs are from the 4th century bc, and many contain funeral scenes in relief, some scenes portraying the daily life of the deceased.
The Lycians seem to have held a belief that the souls of their dead would be transported from the tombs to the afterworld by a sort of winged siren-like creature, and so often placed their tombs along the coast or at the top of cliffs when they were not integrated into the liveable areas of the cities.
To see more pictures, click here.