The Dream that Never Happened … Alanya

Woolly says – We’d had a call, from the humans face it was a serious one and given her next few hours actions one that would involve a trip to our adopted country. I’m always up for a journey and raced off to start packing and looking forward to Turkish pistachio’s…the best in the world. Ten days later and Zoe, Dave, Jo and myself found ourselves sitting on a flight bound for Alanya.

Our lovely friend Erdogan had contacted us to let us know that our apartment block had reached the top of the list for demolition. This was something that had been floating around for many years and we had thought that it was still going to be a number of years away, we were wrong. To give a bit of background, the Turkish government had issued a law in 2012 for the rebuilding of buildings over the age of 25 years to meet much newer guidelines in building regulations based around the ability to sustain earthquakes, a common accordance in the country. Our apartment block and six others around it had now reached their time. The problem being that all of our belongings were still inside and we were on a race against time to get them out.

Woolly says – The dream that never happened was now about to end for good, having moved into our lovely new home in 2014 for Ian, Jo and myself to start a new life in the country only 32 days later Ian had died and the dream had shattered. Jo and I continued to live there but it wasn’t the same even with the love and support of our friends. Our last visit days before COVID had locked the world down had left us with questions as to what we might do with the place, now the decision had been taken from us.

Our first morning saw us walking the streets that I had padded over many times before to meet up with our Turkish friend, Erdogan, so much seemed to have changed with new statues popping up …something that Alanya was very good at, new shop fronts and loads of new buildings where once nothing had stood.

The river that had once run past our building was now covered by a walkway which hadn’t been completed on our last trip and our favourite breakfast spot had changed company.

Our meeting went well and a plan of action was put into place and while our good friend started to get the ball rolling I headed our group to the Kleopatra area of the city which Dave hadn’t seen last time. Arriving at the cable cars the heavens opened and thunder and lighting ripped across the grey skies, we sat under shelter sipping on the strong Turkish coffee and waiting for things to subside. Picture taken from the balcony of our apartment to give you an idea of what we were watching.

With a break in the downpour we headed off across the park areas in search of my favourite all time sculpture, Mr Polar Bear. I’d forgotten how many stray cats roam the streets here heading to the feeding stations that the local council supply or settling down for a nap in the Kedi park.

Sadly, due to the weather the cable car wasn’t going anywhere so we couldn’t take Dave up to the fort, instead I led the way into Dalmatas Caves. The cave was discovered accidentally during mining operations at a quarry used for the construction of Alanya Harbour in 1948, full of stalactites and stalagmites that were formed fifteen thousand years ago it is on two levels. The air in the cave contains relatively high percentage of carbon dioxide, around 10 to 12 times more than in normal air, and has 95% humidity, the air temperature remains at a constant 22–23 °C (72–73 °F) regardless of the season, and is popularly known as an “asthma-cure cave” due to the widespread belief in its capability of curing respiratory complaints and asthma. I had forgotten how lovely they were and thoroughly enjoyed sitting in the warmth peering up at the ceiling above me.

Twenty minutes later we were out and headed towards the harbour where the sea was pounding against the walls and the party boats bobbed up and down.

The next two days saw us sorting, packing and throwing out a life times worth of belongings, Jo was seen constantly sniffing into a hanky and sneaking items into the pile of things to go back to the UK, whilst Dave went up and down the stairs taking bags out for disposal and Zoe attempted to prise items away from Jo, I sat on the balcony remembering the lovey times we had had there and throwing my pistachio shells onto the cats down below.

Three days of visiting official offices followed signing paperwork, watching staff stamping the paperwork over and over, trying to stem Jo’s tears and waiting in queues for hour after hour. Finally, it was complete and the day of moving arrived, as the packing team set to work Dave and Zoe headed back to the airport, leaving me to deal with the emotional human. By 2pm it was done, 9 years and 2 days since we had moved in the apartment was empty, having handed our keys to Erdogan I sat on the case as Jo wheeled us to our accommodation for the next few days, a chance to enjoy the city once more and try and forget the stress of the last few weeks.

The sun was out and as we wandered along the main road I was delighted to discover another new location, a teddy bear bar, what could be better than a drink with bears and a chance to catch our breath and enjoy the sea as the sun set on the dream.

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