Adventures and misfortunes of a crocheter in a cruise- IV

The market or Agora. I bet there was a yarn shop. 

Tuesday, September the 3rd

Today, Ephesus. And we wake up early again because Smirna is an hour away from Ephesus by bus.

Our guide today is a small middle aged lady ( middle aged, what a convenient couple of words for Earth beings like me who are not able to calculate another's age at first sight).

While in the bus she explains the History of Turkey, relating facts from the past to present ones. For Clon's sake! She's like, I don't know, Saint Google!

She speaks very slowly, extreme care in pronunciation, a calm voice that would have made me have a nap if what she was talking about was not interesting enough.

We arrive to a very crowded entry to the ruines. Our 5 buses plus uncountable more from other cruises. Our little guide lady leads us between the crowd to the entry and it takes us 20 secs to get inside (she would have made a perfect football player).

The sight of this ancient roman city is spectacular. As we walk inside, our guide tells us that there is an agreement between the Austrian and the Turkish governments by which the Austrian archaeologists are the only ones allowed to work in the ruins of Ephesus - Austrian government provides the money- and the Turkish exploit the tourism in the area (clever guys!).

The temple of Hadrian.

I don't want you to get bored so I'm going to tell you just the interesting parts.

The  Austrian archaeologists have recovered all the plans of the city so that they know exactly where to work (clever Romans!).

The Odeon. 

Our wise little Yoda tells us that politicians use to meet in the Odeon to discuss all the issues about the city and that when things were turning really bad, a band of musicians were ready to play some music to calm them down. Now I know why the world is so crazy these days, no violins in the Parliament any more. Oh, my! And there were 100000 souls living in that place too!

The Curetes or posh Street.

The Curetes Street is the posh street. Rich people used to live there. One can still see the ruins of the sewage system of the city (another Roman clever invention) as well as "regular" mosaics in part of the street. They are now working in a Patrician house where the mosaics were top of grade ones, rich in colour and detail.

Close to the Patrician houses are the Temple of Adriano, the baths and the latrines or public toiletes. The last ones are in perfect condition and were the place to socialise (Cleopatra's butt was there!) but, sorry, I cannot see it, I cannot imagine myself sitting there, trying to concentrate on my own business while the person next to me speaks to me trying to establish a conversation and farts at the same time. Can you imagine it? Can you imagine the terrible odour? I suppose that they burned aromatic herbs or something like that, yuck!

Wanna share a private moment?

At the end of the street there is a magnificent view: the library of Cadalsus, the door to the Agora (the market) aaand... the "house of love".

The Library of Celsus. Strategically positioned.

Yes, the wise people of the city thought that it would be a good idea to place the library close to the market so that women would eventually come in the library before or after shopping and in front of the house of love for men, before or after (I would rather say after), well, you know...

Now we are at the theatre. It's huge. Yoda tells us that it was a very important cultural space ( not sure if gladiators fights would be considered as "culture" or gore). I'm beginning to feel like dancing but refrain myself. They've been using the theatre for concerts and other cultural events but now it's forbidden. The grades are damaged and they have to be restored. I wish I could have had the opportunity to listen to a concert there. Pity...

The theatre. I feel like dancing...

Yoda gives us a 10 minutes break and we have a little walk through the harbour street before going to the exit.

The Harbour Street.

Typical souvenirs shops, no yarns (of course) and its damn hot. We've drank 3 litres of water.

Before returning to the port we make a strategic stop at a leather factory ( they've worked things out pretty well). Firstly they show us the last models in a short catwalk room, then to the shopping space. My eyeballs turn the other way around when I see the most beautiful leather jacket in the world: soft and extremely light Napa leather in grey, knitted hood ( my inner yarn radar's fault) and an exquisite printed lining.

Magically a salesman appears close to me and, in spite of telling him that I'm only having a look and that I'm not going to try it on, he insists. Perfect fit! Mc Husband asks for the price and its astronomical (why do I have to invariably choose the most expensive item of the whole shop?) but the salesman tells us that he will make a 50% discount, that is astronomical/2, still astronomical. When they begin to bargain the price I get embarrassed, take the beauty off and go straight to the accessories part of the shop, leaving them in the middle of a futile discussion.

Back to the bus. We are late and on top of that there is a huge traffic jam in the motorway. The bus driver decides to take the first available exit and, as he takes it, we find that right in front of us a tank truck is reversing to take the motorway again (has he gone mental or what??). There has been an accident and the exit is collapsed. Then our bus driver decides to do as the tank truck driver did and reversed back into the motorway (oh, my, we are going to die!!).

We arrive to the ship just on time (phew!). Adrenaline has left our bodys exhausted. This helps us to share our lunch with the hordes in peace and harmony. A nice nap and off to the swimming pools. It's a bit chilly so we head to the indoor swimming pool. Children, swim, me, crochet. Piiiip, piiiip! A piercing whistle sound. There is a middle aged man wearing a little sailor suit with a whistle in his mouth, using it!! because some children are behaving badly. 

I take a deep breath and return to my crocheting (wow, it's getting hot, like in a sauna room). Piiip, piiiip! Twenty seconds later, piiiip, piiiip, piiiiiiiip! Dammit with the whistle!! He could slip on the wet floor and swallow the damn whistle! ( oh, oh, bad karma).

Ok, relax, have a deep breath, straight back, shoulders in position and begin crocheting again. Ten minutes later my angora yarn is getting spongy, my fingers are wet and it's impossible to...piiiip,piiiiiip! Enough!

Back to the cabin, have a nice shower and off to meet the Grandpas.

Tomorrow Istambuuul! Yaaaarns! Goood!

• Hours of excursion: 5.
• Hours of siesta: 1.
• Hours of crocheting: 0.6666...
• Sickness pills: 4 ( I've gone all over Ephesus as if I was coming back home after a Roman bacchanal).

That's all for today which is no small thing.

Catch you next Sunday!