Being in Bozcaada is like a dream. It’s warm, sunny, and oh so beautiful. Quaint, charming, sleepy… the list could go on forever. It’s the type of place you want to get lost in – stay awhile. The island itself is rather small. Old sailboats line the harbor, vineyards drape the hills, and the sun gives it all a warm glow. The days started to blend together as I immerse myself in good books, long walks, and wine – lots and lots of wine. You can’t escape it. I’m not going to lie: Turkish wine is decent, but definitely not a favorite. I’ve tried a variety and they all seem to be on the bitter side. I plan to ride my bicycle to a few vineyards tomorrow (I keep getting sidetracked), in search of something better; I’m feeling optimistic.
Since I’m on the topic of things I cannot escape, I might as well tell you that I’m in a carb coma. Yes, a carb coma. Bread is consumed with every meal and it also happens to be the snack of choice here. It’s always served fresh, which makes it that much harder to resist. If I wasn’t on my feet all day, I’d have a serious problem. Very serious.
Things just manage to fall into place here. I didn’t have accommodations lined up prior to arriving. Most of the sites I came across didn’t have the option to translate the text, so I opted to wing it. When I got off the ferry I was greeted by a scruffy old man, who like most, didn’t speak any English. He handed me a tattered photo of his pansiyon which looked rather cozy. I was shocked to find out he only charges 35TL per night, which is equal to $24. It seemed too good to be true, so I had to have a look.
I followed him as he weaved through a maze of cobblestone pathways. When we arrived at our destination I was overcome with joy – it was perfect! The pansiyon is tiny, offering only two rooms. There is a rooftop terrace with an amazing view of the Aegean Sea, a little courtyard adjacent to the building, where breakfast is served (included in the price), and to top it off they have Wi-Fi. Does it get any better? I seriously doubt it.
The room across the hall is occupied by a father and son from Sweden. The father, Lars, is a professor in Stockholm. His son, whose name is slipping my mind, is an engineer there too. We’ve enjoyed long talks in the courtyard over breakfast in the morning, and wine in the evening. It’s been a pleasure getting to know them, as they have definitely added to my stay here. I’m a little sad to see them go. If my path leads me to Sweden I fully intend to look them up.
My first full day was spent wandering around the sleepy streets snapping photos, stopping for the occasional glass of wine, and exploring the grounds of Bozcaada’s castle. The original castle dates back to Phoenicians time. It experienced extensive damage due to attacks on the harbor and was later restored by the Genoese and the Venetians. After the Ottoman take over, Fatih Sultan Mehmet ordered massive renovations of the fort, appearing as it is today. I was lucky enough to have the entire site to myself. I crawled in and out of holes, scaled walls, and basically acted like a twelve year old for hours; the child instead is still very much alive. It was awesome.
I later found the perfect spot to soak up some sun, catch up on my book, and make a few journal entries. I sat for hours perched on a cliff, feet dangling – nothing but blue skies and sea for miles.
Bozcaada really is a treat. I must admit that it’s the type of place you want to share with someone; it’s the type of place I’d like to share with you.
