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Saturday 2004-05-15 - Antakya, Turkey
Eating out in the middle of nowhere
Our driver, Ali, and two guys (one is called Mehmet but I didn’t catch the other’s name) from the hotel are invited by our tour companion for dinner. Ali knows a restaurant somewhere outside the city of Antakya. Thom, Carla and I are coming, too. With the bus we drive out of town, to a little village that doesn’t look like there would be a restaurant — but there is, and it’s packed. The owner welcomes us, obviously pleased they’re bringing tourists. The meal is excellent, the company even better. This afternoon I bought a little dictionary and I barely lay hands on it: Mehmet and Ali use it all the time to communicate better with us since they don’t speak English. Joking and chatting, eating shish and köfte, three kinds of salad, bread, three kinds of humus; drinking Yeni Rakı, a kind of beet wine, and water: a great evening in a place where tourists never come — I wouldn’t be able to find it back either!
