As you may have noticed, my posts have become increasingly sporadic— this is in part due to the ongoing ban of Blogger in Turkey, and the difficulty it has caused me. I have to access my blog in this irritatingly roundabout way, which is not the most conducive for posting. I've also been cooped up at home writing essays and lesson plans and whatnot for my postgraduate certification in education, which I've been working towards since September. This certification programme has not allowed me much free time for gallivanting around the streets of my beloved Istanbul, nor has it enabled my wandering eyes and heart to travel to any new and exciting places. The adventurer inside me is crying out for even the tiniest travelling— anything to get my feet moving and my brain and senses stimulated.
Back in July, my friend Molly left Turkey for America to marry her love, and I have sorely missed our endless conversations and laughter. Lucky me, she's back in town for a few weeks and we've decided to take a trip to the ancient Hellenic city of Olympos, on the Mediterranean coast of Turkey. I have no idea what Olympos is like, and I've resisted the urge to fully research it so I can be surprised. Through some light googling, I understand that Olympos is green with trees and there are rocks to climb, beaches to lie on, and bluer than blue sea to swim in. I hope for sun and warmth and laziness. I want to lie around and draw, chat with Molly, laugh with Molly, and maybe do a little hiking and swimming. The days, hours and minutes have been dragging on, reminding me of an annoying thing called patience, telling me that Tuesday will eventually arrive, and to occupy myself with other things in the meantime. So I'm working on a large oil painting of a bumblebee, trying to make Saturday, Sunday and Monday fly.