Kusadasi

With most guests on board hailing from the USA, I'm greeted rambunctiously today with "Happy Thanksgiving!". It's lovely, but I a) didn't know it was thanksgiving, and b) didn't know it was a greeting like happy birthday; and c) I'm too tired to explain that in Australia, we are abundantly grateful, but Thanksgiving is an American holiday.

None the less. I'm taught my reason to be thankful over breakfast. I enjoy a piece of bacon. I'm hungry. Food hasn't settled well the last few days and I've not eaten enough. I don't chew a piece of bacon properly. I soon realise I'm actually not able to swallow it, and it's stuck in my throat. I can't breathe. I stand up, no concept of time though it's been a bit since last breath, and point to onlookers at my throat, panic setting in. Miraculously, the bacon dislodges and I'm both immensely relieved and extremely humiliated. My throat is swollen. Bruised. The idea of breakfast is pretty much abandoned.

I rest most of the morning (you've got to love that part of cruising - the capacity to rest!), and we arrive at Kusadasi sometime around 2pm.

Too fatigued to book an excursion (I am dissapointed not to have seen Ephesus - The temple of Artemis (See images from good old Googley), I did explore the old markets (bazaar!), and ponder the world in a beautiful turkish Cafe. I watched as some young women chatted over a game of backgammon, sipping their turkish coffee.

I enjoyed mine too, with a side of beautifully cooked spinach and cheese gozleme. The most beautiful moment arose when I paid the bill. The lovely restauranteur spoke English well and asked where I was from. I tried to thank him in turkish, but the word wouldn't stick in my tired brain. Teşekkürler. He kindly said you can say tea? You can say sugar? Say them together, like tea and sugar. That's how it sounds. I thanked him and his wife for the beautiful food.

He then said most Australians come here in April. The realisation of where I was sunk in. I said of course. Anzac day. Gallipoli. Tears had already sprung to my eyes as the significance of where I was overwhelmed me. I composed myself and promised him I would return to Kusadasi in April sometime soon. He said to me in his thick accent. You have a beautiful heart. I can feel it. Don't ever lose that as it's special. I was moved beyond words and marvelled at the beauty in life that sometimes comes not from incredible landscapes or architecture. But from the connection we have with others.

I returned to the ship and on this thanksgiving day. I'm overwhelmingly thankful.Read more