Wednesday was cold, rainy and grey— not exactly what I had hoped for, but it was a great time to meet some fellow travellers, sip on tea and listen to wild and wonderful stories. Having avoided a cold shower, I was feeling pretty grimy under my five layers of shirts, my dusty jeans and long striped socks. I had not packed well; I was so optimistic about having spectacular weather in Olympos, I believed that if I packed light clothes, the warm weather would come. It does not work that way.
Dinner at Bayram's was announced at eight by cowbell, and travellers slowly appeared from their little bungalows and cushioned platforms to line up at the buffet. Heaps of pilaf, mounds of eggplant and mantı (a Turkish ravioli) were generously dished out as other staff members tried to light a bonfire near the bar area. The rain had subsided and soon, the orange glow of a fire was growing. Belly full, I wandered over to the warmth with a beer and some new friends. Stories and laughter rose into the night like smoke.
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