SETTING SAILS, LAST NIGHT, FETHIUE PORT CITY

2014-Turkey-4-27, Greek Ghost Twn,Soguk Su Cove

Last night, I saved our visit to the ghost town to an album, above, if you would like to see all of my pictures in a slide show.
It was my plan to take a Sunday off, but here I am, enjoying all over again, setting the sails, and moving on to our disembarkation city of Fethiyue, pronounced fet-hah-yay.

The weather has taken a turn, with clouds and wind building up a storm.

Our captain decides it is time to set the sail, which they do once on every tour. The sea is roiling which gives a bit of rock and roll, called Poseidon’s horses-ancient vernacular.

Mehnehten climbs the mast and must somehow make sense of the multiple ropes that govern the sails.

The foresail is first to flare.
Wait a minute. If all three men are tackling the sails, who is steering the boat?

OWEN?

Of course, his pal, Usla put him up to it. And, truth be told, the ship is anchored.

The mainsail fills. And we are officially a sailboat. It’s beautiful and complicated to watch the process.

Then its time to take the sails down and pack them away in those built-in green canvas sacks.

Mehnehten walks the boom, tucking every bit of canvas away. Mainsail first.

Foresail last. A fascinating show for we land lubbers.

We have American pizza before dinner as a treat. Usla warns us, “Please, don’t tell any other OAT traveler that you had pizza on the gulet or they will all expect pizza.  A tour leader from another company ordered the cheese and special ingredients and then his cruise was aborted and the ingredients left behind.”  I’m sure they won’t be reading my blog but Usla knew we had bumped into people from another OAT tour group and had visited and conferred with them.

The wind was really blowing hard as we sailed on to Fethiyue where the ship takes on provisions for the next cruise and we disembark.

Fethiyue is a big port town that is at the moment very political with problems between the Kurdish and the Turkish moslems, who have a small difference in religion and language. Kurds number 20 million and hold much of the oil in Turkey and unrest here is increasing as the problem goes unresolved. The Kurds want a country of their own. For that reason, OAT does not bring tourist to visit the city. We get to view it from afar.

Our last night on the gulet, through the porthole window, the lights of Fethiyue burn brightly farewell.

THE BOTTLE FENCE.

Standford University just completed a study about the way men and women relate to friends. I was pleased to find out that I fit healthfully into the study, because I treasure my girl friends and always take time out  to play catch-up with my friends when I’m home.  Lizz and Sharon popped over for an afternoon with a couple bottles of wine. A former neighbor, Lizz lives in Sacramento now and I hadn’t seen her in five years.

Of course we celebrated, and nibbled but what we do mostly  is gab, gab, gab.  Guys don’t do it like we do.

Then I found out they had pulled into my driveway and failed to notice my new bottle fence. So, out we went to see it.

We decided, maybe we needed more than snacks, and hopped over to Pizza Plus and enjoyed their chicken pesto pizza.

Back to my place for more gabbing. I’m really into health, doncha know. Sharon is a beader and I blogged a magnificent piece she did last year and this morning, coincidentally, I heard from Sig, the woman who had designed the piece she made, which is exquisite.  You can see it at the following link:   Sig said it took her 80 hours to design it. Amazing!

http://otrwjam.wordpress.com/2011/11/28/beading-an-heirloom/



So, we returned to the bottle fence, and Lizz  pointed out I have a lot of liquor bottles on the fence. Wine bottles, too.  So, now we have a couple more bottles to add to the fence. Hey, it works for me.  Maybe Sharon should bead wine bottle covers.

SUPER BOWL VEGAS STYLE, (OR THE DANGER OF PIZZA & BEER

If you are betting the game in Vegas, there are 700 ways to do it. Its hard to imagine betting on the toss of the coin, what player will or will not run 30 yards on his first pass. Who will or will not complete a pass, and so on and on and on. My son, Ken,  had his betting receipts taped to the bar and as the game proceeded, he would say, "Ah, I just won $11 on that." Then,  "That play cost me $26 bucks," and so on through the game. Egads, Murgatroyd! He considers it a fun way to win or lose money. In my book there is no fun way to lose money. He and Laurie are Steeler fans, but, being a Yooper, I have always liked the independent Green Bay Packers. (I didn't cheer too much because I didn't want to be banished to the garage before the food was served.)


My daughter-in-law, Laurie makes great pizza from scratch.

I had to admire her pizza making ability because its nothing I'd try at home. But, with two teenage boys, I can understand why she developed that skill.

She also makes it look easy.

She invested in the pizza stones a long time ago. They do help the pizza cook properly.

And daughter Kristanne's son, Austin, practiced his tai kwon do with Laurie while it cooked.  He just signed up for a class this month. Austin spent the day with mom learning to paint at their new apartment and was very proud of himself.

The results were yummy. She made four different pizzas and it took just minutes to demolish them.

The snacks and beer were good too. Ken is a brewer and his new batch will be bottled this week and then left to ripen for three more weeks in the bottle. Maybe we'll get to taste when its bottled! But I have to warn you about pizza and beer.
My youngest daughter once raised hogs for 4-H. When it was time to butcher, the butcher couldn't round up the hogs. They avoided his truck. They were free range hogs without a pen. He asked me if I had some pizza and beer. I did. I warmed the pizza and poured the beer in a flat pot and they smelled and rushed to their fate. See what I mean?

THE BEST FRIENDS, THE BEST PIZZA, THE BEST MEMORIES

Jim has been talking about his best friends from Revere, MA where he attended grammar and high school. Great people, wonderful memories, that nothing can compare to, of course.  And, he has teased me with statements like, "Wait 'til you get to Revere, you'll taste the best Pizza in the world."  Well, I know what that's like. You have your comfort foods from childhood that stay with you forever, and your best friends are golden. I've been there.
The day was set, Bill and Loretta Gallagher stopped by the motor home to pick us up. The plan was to drive the old neighborhood haunts and see what's new and changed...we've all done it.

The first stop was this beautiful old St. Anthony's Catholic Church where Loretta and Bill got married 48 years and one day earlier. Yes, it was the day after their anniversary. Bill pointed out a small, back stairs flat where they first set up housekeeping across from the church.

 The next stop was Lee's Trailer Park, to the very spot where Jim lived as a kid. Hadn't changed, the trailer sitting at his old address, was just a bit newer. The weeds looked the same. The neighborhood was strongly Jewish, then. Bill quipped that on Jewish Religious Days, He, Jim and Al Penta were the only ones in class. The park was a couple blocks away from Suffolk Downs, the race track where Jim worked. The Greyhound races were next to the Downs, and the beach, with the boardwalk and carnival all within walking distance. They all had paper routes.

Revere Beach was the first designated public beach, about 4 miles long. Clear now of all the carnival rides, dance halls and pavilions. Only their memories of great fun were left.

This crumbling old building Jim moved to during his high school years. He and his friends all had jobs. They shoveled snow, they mowed lawns, Jim washed dishes and worked at a department store receiving dock. Bill, had the good job at a gas station. He also had "the car". If you had a car, you could attract the girls. They had to endure a DMV official who would stand on a street corner and routinely stop kids and check for their registration or any fix-it violations. At one such check he stood in awe as 15 kids piled out of Bill's Henry J.

This used to be Schwartz's Deli where Jim washed dishes. The Jr. High School was torn down and rebuilt, the High School was torn down and moved to another location, but the down hill streets, where they rode their sleds were narrower then they remembered and all one-way, now. Grabbing onto the back of the trolley cars and "stealing" a ride to get downtown produced more stories of derring do, but the trolleys are now gone, replaced by buses.

The bar where they all managed their first illegal drink. Bill, Jim and friends formed their own  Hot Rod Club called the Sharks. They dressed in studded leather jackets and rode around town like the masters of the universe that they were. Ahh, high school. Loretta said it was just like Grease, the movie.
Then we stopped at Dolly's house. Her husband Arthur, was not from the neighborhood. Dolly was one of the gang and Loretta's best friend from first grade. She lives in her parents (now deceased) house. Everyone gathered at Dolly's. They all watched Elvis together on Ed Sullivan and again the memories flowed around the table. Where is so-in-so? Who died? They got a divorce? What happened to....?

I quickly adopted them all as my friends because it was such an enjoyable reminiscence, the high school girlfriends, the ice rink, roller derby, the uptown girls from Boston, the rumble that never happened because of a burned out clutch. All fun. And then, the famous Pizza...

A plate was turned upside down at the end of the table for the missing Al Penta who will return to Revere in October. (I met Al in Monroe, WA. last year.)
Now, the pizza at Companions Restaurant. I hate to admit it but the margherita pizza was the best stuff called pizza I ever tasted. Their shrimp scampi pizza and the sausage and onion, good, but the margherita will make you swoon. Its all thin crust, slightly sweet and quite crisp. The cheese is different, somehow.  The tomatoes fresh with fresh basil and just a touch of sauce. Wonderful stuff. Different than what we get in California. Whatta day!