4/11/98: Moved from the Karahan to the Homeros. Ruth came down with a stomach bug, so we only took a brief walk around the neighborhood.
4/11/23: We waited for the fake Dervish to show up before checking out of the Karahan, but he didn’t, of course. I confronted the hotel manager, and he eventually admitted to the scheme. We headed to the carpet shop, and threatened the owner with going to the police. He replaced the candy but, unfortunately, the business cards were already in the trash somewhere.
The real Dervish at the real Homeros Pension gave us the best room in the place: top floor, westward view all the way to the Aegean Sea. Fantastic sunsets every night. They are still in business, and I have recommended this hotel to a few people over the years, and all have agreed it is a great place to stay if you are visiting Selçuk/Ephesus. So, look them up if you go!
While Ruth was in bed for the day because of a stomach bug, I had dinner with a table partner who was a 43 year-old hippie who’s hero was Timothy Leary. The conversation revolved around how many different countries in which he had seen the Rolling Stones perform and which drug he was on at the time. He had lived on Maui for a time, sleeping on the beach and hanging out with the pakalolo growers who were “erudite in the knowledge of weed, man…” What a long, strange trip that meal was.
I also got to spend time talking with Dervish’s sister Oye, and her husband. She was an award-winning folk-dancer in western Turkey. I had been part of a folk-dance club and performance team for several years back in the Chicago area, which included Turkish dances, so I really enjoyed our chat about dancing and music. In fact, one of my friends from that club was from Izmir, Turkey and had moved back home. So, I determined to look her up while were were there, since Ismir was not too far away..
