Kaleici, Antalya

We’d been in Turkey for about two weeks. The weather on the West side of Istanbul was very hot in the beginning and then it was a bit rainy. The place where we stayed was up on the fourth floor in a ritzy district where locals looked at my Chinese girlfriend like she was wearing … the uniform of an alien. I didn’t like it. (The looks.)

Then it was a week on the East side, the Asian continent. There, we had a second-floor spot — up on the fourth floor — in an apartment building in a neighborhood that felt a little shadier and more working-class. Still, every day when we left the apartment there seemed to be old dudes sitting at tables drinking tea and talking shit. We had a view of the Marmara Sea, and that was something. I made the most of it by doing my work out on the terrace each day and watching the sun going down over the city of Istanbul, that was really something. All orange, red, purple, pink on the horizon. Gray and white buildings. Reflections of the sky and sun. Good.

We left on a Monday for our flight to Antalya. It happened to be my birthday. I was turning 33. Big deal. My girlfriend made breakfast, we ate together on the terrace. Then we started packing — or she did. I played my air guitar and jumped around like a monkey, shirtless. And stared at the sea. Birds crested like nymphs looking for a second chance at life.

Anyway, we left Istanbul. Took a taxi. Got to the airport. All that. My girlfriend wanted to check a bag. We almost had a fight about that. But I won’t waste time writing about that, here. I MEAN WHAT WOULD BE THE POINT.

I had a beer and waited for her. She came.

We took off for Antalya. Which was a little strange to me because when I’d left Budapest I had seen a sign for Antalya at the airport and saw all the people standing in line wearing fedoras and talking amicably with their invisible friends.

We landed. It was hot.

Outside, we had a taxi take us to the place. It took about twenty minutes. The palm trees made me feel good. I liked beach towns. My girlfriend wanted to explore. She was Chinese. She wanted to see Europe, had never been there. I’d been traveling in Eastern Europe for five weeks. I was getting tired of it. I missed Southeast Asia. People were friendly, everything was cheap. And the wars there were already over — at least for the time being.

The taxi driver got to Kaleici, the Old Town section of Antalya which was down by the harbor, in between two of the beaches. A little lever prevented cars from driving wildly into the district, cobblestones, tourists, shops, overpriced goods, spices, children, and an effervescent view of the sea. Was it the Mediterranean? I didn’t really know.

My girlfriend and I almost got into another fight outside of the Airbnb place because neither of us had WiFi — I didn’t have a SIM card for my phone. And the person who was supposed to meet us wasn’t around. He was probably up on the fourth floor sniffing his own crotch.

After our fight had erupted into a discord, one of the neighbors above us came out onto the terrace.

“Can I help you?”

My girlfriend had just placed her phone on the car next to us. She’d nearly given up on me and my antics.

“Uh, somebody is supposed to meet us here.”

After a few minutes of explaining myself, the guy came out to the balcony. Dumb fucker

We got inside. He showed us the keys. And left.

The WiFi password was wrong. It was hot. Hotter than tits in a church. What?

So we went out, my girlfriend and I, to explore the harbor area. It was nice. Tourists. Locals. They seemed to be darker than the Turks and Kurds up in the north. We walked out onto the water and hoped that neither of us would sink.

In the morning, I decided that I would never sleep in one of the three bedrooms again in that heat. We’d closed the windows. And the whole place felt like we were sleeping inside somebody’s asshole.

Tuesday.

We went out to the beach. Konyaalti Beach. First, we took a tram.

“What’s a tram?”

“It’s like a train.”

It was hot, waiting for it. Burning. And then I accidentally stepped on a cigarette somebody had just put out and it blistered the side of my left foot.

“FUCK! SHIT! GODDAMNIT!”

We took the tram to the last stop, the beach. We got out and our insides dropped through the concrete. You could see all the way to Mount Olympus. Everything felt more at ease, immediately. No Armies. No taxes to pay. Just the sun and the rocks — the beach had no sand.

And the kids owned the beach.

And the stray cats prowled in the tall grass that lined the winding road down to the level of the sea, covered by the blue sky, topped off by the blistering sun. The atmosphere sweating. Timeless. Not too much time left. Fuck. I was in a bathing suit from Bali. Four bucks.

I jumped right into the sea.

My girlfriend fell, slightly, into the rocks. I grabbed ahold of her.

“Daddy’s here,” said I.

I was a gentleman. Always.

We stayed there for two hours, observing the sights. And I felt the sun cooking me. I was blocking the sun, in fact, from searing my girlfriend’s skinny body.

“Babe, I think … I dunno. It’s kinda … maybe … we should go soon. I mean, I don’t wanna leave. But. I’ve been in the sun the whole time.”

Eventually, we left. At around six or seven. I cooked a dinner. Maybe.

I did a lot of cooking throughout the rest of the week. My girlfriend, Han sorry. Han had a lot of classes for the rest of our stay in Antalya. And I did my copywriting work.

One day she did her classes from the room overlooking the harbor, without the AC. And I was working in the room with the AC, overlooking the harbor.

We switched back and forth. And then one day she had a break before one of her classes. And we had decided that it was a better idea to put one of the bedroom mattresses on the floor in the room with the AC, so that we could get some sleep. The noisy bars outside didn’t bother her at night. Nothing bothered her, in fact. Except me. Which is a literary lie.

“Baby, let’s have sex.”

It was one. In the afternoon. Just about. Or maybe it was almost two.

I was overlooking the harbor, adjacent the Mediterranean Sea. My cock in there real good.

This is how kings must’ve lived, I thought. They had it right. They had everything. No peasants’ revolt. Just good wine. Food. Everything. To themselves.

I didn’t feel greedy. I just felt good.

I turned her over.

We repeated the days, somewhat. Going for walks after our work. Going to the harbor, standing on the rocks. Looking at the sky, the sun setting over the touristy district of Kaleici. Getting harassed by people selling food, clothes, bracelets, rugs. In fact, somebody said that my English had sounded American.

“That’s coz I’m from America.”

Han laughed.

“Where at?”

“New Jersey.”

“Oh, I’ve been there?”

“No shit!”

“Yeah, Paramus.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“North Jersey.”

“That’s right.”

He said another name, of a town I didn’t recognize. I nodded.

“You should come back, we’ll have some tea and a chat.”

“Yeah, sure.”

I waved and walked away.

“That’s the second guy,” I told Han, “that asked me to come talk to him when you were with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, some of these dudes … those two guys almost insinuated that I should just ignore you and talk to them.”

“Nahhhhh.”

“I’d never do that to you.”

I took her hand.

I won’t mention all the looks she got in Antalya. Or the way they would motion with their hands to imitate her eyes.

One day, Han got me to go into a store where I didn’t wanna go. Let’s talk about that instead.

“Come on, baby.”

“EHHHH.”

I was eating an ice cream cone.

“I can’t go in there. I’m eating ice cream.”

“I’ll wait for you,” she said, persistently.

I went in. It was a clothing store.

I left with a few new shirts. And a short pair of shorts. They were really short.

Our last night, after the walks, the easy dinners, all my meals — stuffed peppers, sausage and eggs for breakfast, the endless Turkish coffees, tea, an excellent veal wrap with mushrooms and mozzarella, and the sexy sex overlooking the harbor in the middle of the afternoon, and her in the kimono she had bought for my birthday, my birthday!, I forgot all about that, yeah, I drank, so what, and enjoyed my time here on this planet, burning, coughing, exploited, beautiful, elsewhere, no brainwashing, just the clear, blue sky and the palm trees dangling like balls on God’s chin — we went out down by the harbor. Got a spot by the edge of the rocks, I dove into the water after a dare from Han. I had my bottle of beer waiting for me on the white beach chair.

We got back. Decided to shower. The sun was gone behind the apartment buildings.

Out of the shower, a big mirror. She leaned over in front of it.

I did what I’m good at. Sometimes. Especially on consecutive days.

She moaned, groaned. Those eyes went closed.

We finished. I finished.

Then I went back into the shower. I pointed out across the hallway.

“Babe, look at the water. It’s beautiful.”

We could see the coastline from the shower. All lit up. No longer hazy, like it had been all day. Yellow lights. Twilight. The darkening days upon us with the heat all the way turned up and I felt the blistering sunlight gone, for another day. Relieved. Relaxed.

Thirsty.

I got outta the shower, toweling off in the entranceway by the front door to the flat. Went to the fridge. Opened it. Reached for the bottle of white wine.

Unscrewed the cap.

Took a big hit directly from the bottle.

And then came over to write this fucking thing.

Antalya.

Okay.