Crater and cocktails

The plan worked. Monday morning found us well rested and excited to put our time in Honolulu to use. So we went to the mall.

After a very successful morning shopping (total haul; 1 x hair straightener, 1 x SIM card, 1 x jacket) we got on a bus out to the Diamond Head Crater national park.

At the hotel we were warned to wear running shoes, not thongs, definitely not high-heels. The bus dropped us outside the national park area, and we paid our entry fee of a dollar. Including the two-fifty for the bus, the walk is a great, low-cost afternoon in Waikiki.

The way up

The path wound back and forth the inside of the crater. It was steep in places, but not difficult going, especially after seeing the walking paths in Norway. Things only got tough when we got to the stairs to the bunker, which are pictured later on.

It was busy in both directions, with a lot of tourists taking advantage of the view. And it was easy to see why.

Bunker on the right, Waikiki on the left. Sky above.

The island put on a little show for us as well, with the clouds sitting nice and low on the mountains for better photos.

After the walk up it was nice to break for a while and get some photos.

Directly below the ridge was a lighthouse and the beautiful reef.

Everywhere we went the waves broke far from the shore and travelled all the way in

The combination of natural structures and the aged military infrastructure made the walk quite interesting. Running up the stairs, ducking through tunnels and into bunkers broke up the trip.

The way to the top

Ali in a tunnel

That night we returned to the not-our-hotel pool for cocktails at sunset. Ali was smart and ordered a pina colada, which was delicious. I was silly and ordered a maitai, which was mostly rum, with some spice rum added for colour.

Every drop was worth it for the view.

It was a gorgeous evening, with music, dancers and drinks.

On the banks of the mighty Bosporus...

The rains of Waikiki

When we booked Honolulu as our first stop, we didn't plan for rain. Rain is what we got, though.

Rain and a view.

We spent the morning of the first day darting between doorways and through malls, trying to find a dry path from the hotel to the beach.

I could never remember the way to the beach, even though it was right there.

We came up with a plan to manage the time change - stay awake until midday, sleep for a little while, and head out for dinner. By morning we would be on Hawaiian time.

Alison was excited - her dream of all filtered coffee, all the time, was coming true

The plan was a good one. The time difference from Brisbane to Honolulu, and the eight hour flight, combined to make the change pretty easy on us. It took a little while for our body-clocks to catch up, and we had dinner quite early.

Dinner was at Cheeseburger in Paradise because of course it was.

James was excited - his dream of all cheeseburgers, all the time, was coming true.

After dinner it had fined up enough to finally walk along the beach. Waikiki beach is dominated by hotels and shopping malls, but a short stretch of beach between Diamondhead Crater (the subject of the next post!) and the high-density buildings provides beach access for the regular punter.

Far; crater. Near; punters.

We took the opportunity to explore the maze of stores and hotels and eventually found ourselves at what appeared to be the pool of the Sheraton hotel, which nobody attempted to stop us entering and which did not even have a fence (in Australia you would be fined so much). Perched in illicit deckchairs, we got some photos of a stunning sunset.

Pictured; stunning.

With no attempt made to eject us from the premises, we resolved to return the following evening for a sunset cocktail. But our first day in Hawaii was done, and we retreated to our own hotel.

Back to Istanbul

We spent the whole day in the bus, heading back to Istanbul, except for when we hopped out on the ferry to cross back from Asia to Europe.

Goodbye, Asia

Also had an excellent lunch at a restaurant I didn't catch the name of in a town I can't remember. It was the last day of Ramadan and there were lines at every ATM. Ahmet said it was a special day; people got paid early so they would have money for the coming holiday.

I read Get Shorty and enjoyed it.

Hot springs, white cliffs

Before I left Australia I showed my boss, whose husband is Turkish, where I was going in Turkey.

"Pamukkale," she said. "Huh."

"What's up? Not good?"

"No, no," she thought about it for a moment. "I'd be interested to see what you think of it."

"Why?"

"Well, it's nice. But when we were there it was just full of... Russian bogans."

"Oh," I said.  "Boganskis?"*

"Sure. Boganskis."

Hierapolis (modern day Pamukkale) was famous way back when for the pools of Aphrodite, the hot springs which were supposed to have healing qualities and provide the gifts of youth. In those ancient times, gullible people, called by the promise of such bollocks, flocked there to swim in the legendary pools.

In that regard, not much has changed.

I was in it for the ruins

The choice to drive out on a blazing summer day and swim in hot pools left this Australian tourist a little baffled, but there's no accounting for the actions of boganskis, who had arrived in the hundreds (thousands?). They marched up and down the white cliffs in tiny bathing suits and kilograms of gold jewelry, waiting for the healing waters to kick in.

The cliffs were stunning

Unrestricted tourist access in the 80s and 90s has blackened the top of the cliffs, and people are no longer permitted to walk out much further than the top level of the cliffs. But in the blazing sunlight the white faces shone with a dazzling brilliance.

The effect was ruined somewhat by the hundreds of people who had come for no other reason than to sit in the man-made pools and sunbathe.

Lucky for me there was more excellent Greek and Byzantine architecture to see, including the Necropolis on the far side of the site.

And a round tower! Well, some of a round tower.

Hierapolis was huge; the city sprawled across the top of the hills about the cliffs. A minibus offered a quick drive from one end of the site to the other, and it was a welcome relief from walking in the heat.

We were driving at the time so I don't know what this is.

The Necropolis itself was well worth seeing. I had no idea that Roman graves were so elaborate, and they were particularly interesting after seeing the burial rites of the Scandinavians, whose only lasting burial ornamentations seem to be cairns and barrows. I saw more runestones for sons and families who died in other countries than I did markers for the local dead.

The Necropolis goes all up and along the hillside

I was, to be honest, a little under the weather that day, and I appreciated the opportunity to down a powerade and head to our hotel early for our tour's last night on the road.  The whole next day would be spent heading back to Istanbul.



(not Constantinople)



*I've written this account like I came up with the portmanteau 'Boganskis,' when in fact this honour belongs to my mother.

To the Black Sea!

A quiet day in Istanbul