The Lotus Tree (or the Tale of Two Homers)
There is a passage in Homer’s Odyssey about an island where the only food is the fruit of a lotus tree, that when eaten, causes a person to lose all desire to leave. Well, I concede that there has been an absence of activity on this blog of late, the reason being that we entered the land of the Lotus-eaters. It is only now that we have broken free that I can retell the tale.
After our day in Pamukkale, we once again boarded the bus to travel south towards Antalya and the area known as the Turkish Riviera. Our hotel is actually in a town called Side, about 40 miles further out, so we make the wise choice of finding a company with a route that will take us all the way there to avoid having to change buses. Even though the distance is shorter than Cesme to Pamukkale, it takes almost 90 minutes longer (close to five hours) to complete the trip, and by the time we are dropped off, we can’t even bear the thought of having to get on another bus.
“I was driven thence by foul winds for a space of 9 days upon the sea, but on the tenth day we reached the land of the Lotus-eaters…”
In this part of the country, most of the hotels built up along the beach are big resorts that offer all-inclusive packages to predominantly German and Russian tourists. They go against pretty much everything I believe in when it comes to travel, but Angela makes the very valid point, that I’ve never actually been to one so can’t say whether I’ll like it or not. Besides, after almost three weeks bouncing around Turkey, the idea of just plopping down in a beach chair and not having to think about anything does hold some appeal.
To make a long story short, it is everything I feared and more – the culmination of the earsplitting sounds and cutting-edge fashions of the Great Wolf Lodge violently combined with the unrestrained chaos and culinary mediocrity of a Las Vegas buffet. Funny thing is, no matter how much we joke about the industrial food, the serious shortage of swimsuit fabric, or the dearth of anything remotely resembling Turkish culture, we can’t bring ourselves to leave.
“They … went about among the Lotus-Eaters, who did them no hurt, but gave them to eat of the lotus, which was so delicious that those who ate of it left off caring about home, and did not even want to go back and say what had happened to them, but were for staying and munching lotus with the Lotus-eaters without thinking further of their return.”
Our saving grace is that when we did pick this hotel, we booked only three of the six nights we have in this area just in case we didn’t like where we were staying. After three days of sloth and gluttony (the food may not be that great, but the fact that there is always some within arms reach means my calorie count is probably three times normal and I can’t help but think of Homer Simpson trying to get his weight up to 300 pounds so he could qualify for disability), it is this need to arrange for the remaining nights that breaks us from our stupor and gets us back on our way.
“…though they wept bitterly I forced them back to the ships and made them fast under the benches. Then I told the rest to go on board at once, lest any of them should taste of the lotus and leave off wanting to get home, so they took their places and smote the grey sea with their oars.”
So, what did I learn from this experience? Two things really. First, I get the all-inclusive concept now. Sure I make fun of it, and it will never be my ideal vacation, but I have to admit that our boys would love it. Being able to play in the pool all day and then walk up to a machine and fill your glass with as much chocolate milk as you want is their land of milk and honey. The second is that my brain is really full of amazingly useless information. Seriously, on penalty of pain I forget my anniversary, but I remember lotus-eaters?