After a particularly large breakfast at the museum last year (oh ok then, we will have a third pan of fried eggs, another plate of tomatoes, more bread : it's like a bizarre eating competition :. mmm, a plate of cold broccoli and carrots, yes please!) - the owner came over and said "Please, you come to my Saklikent, it is very beautiful". So we all jumped onto the back of his pickup and tore off down the tarmac road and turned off onto a dirt track, or probably more correctly, turned off onto his practise rally special stage. Sitting on the back of the pick up it felt like we were on a Rally experience day but without the crash helmets, full harness seatbelts (or even seats!), the steel roll cage or for that matter any noticeable safety equipment. To make matters worse we were being driven by a man on an extremely tight time schedule or maybe just someone that had lost the will to live. Still I suppose one advantage of a pick up is the fact that in an accident you could (possibly) get catapulted to somewhere (relatively) safer than the actual crash site. Anyway we survived the journey with only minor cuts, a few major bruises and a lot of serious muscle strain from the clenched buttocks.
Ok, Saklikent it's not, but it is still very beautiful, has a small icy pool of water to jump into and a view I would love to have at the bottom of my garden; and being able to enjoy our visit with a heightened appreciation of all things living through just surviving the traumatic journey, made the experience all the more memorable.
I would ask directions and walk, it's not far.
Just to be on the safe side though, I would agree and rehearse excuses for not accepting a lift from the owner; like "No, no, even though my sister-in-law has a bad foot she really would prefer to hop all the way there."
