Escape from Butterfly Valley (Turkey)
July 21, 2009 – Butterfly Valley, Turkish Riviera
Is that the boat horn? I dunno. I think it is. Is that the boat horn again? Yes, that was definitely the boat horn. I think so too. RUN!!!!!!!
With the second horn, we ran as fast as we could (as fast as flip flops would allow) down the rocky path back to the beach. We only had a few minutes after the second horn blow before the boat pulled away and we’d be stranded in Butterfly Valley. (The only way into the valley is by hiking or boat). Sign: 500 meters to beach – Argh! Run faster!!! They’re pulling the plank – Argh!
Whew! Just made it with a minute to spare, the last ones on the boat. Others got left behind. If we weren’t sweating from the 100 degree heat before, we certainly were now. We almost missed our ride back because we were hiking up Butterfly Valley to the waterfall. The waterfall was actually pretty impressive and the climb was actually pretty difficult, mostly because the rocks were so slippery that you had to take off your flip flops (a hazard) and climb barefoot. It was slow going on the sharp rocks.
We each paid 5 Turkish lira (US$3.50) to explore Butterfly Valley.
Dirty Hippies bought the Butterfly Valley land via a cooperative and set up camp there. You could camp out too for 35 Turkish lira (US$20ish) a night, stake your tent on the beach and have the cove to yourself (and the other Dirty Hippies) once the last daily excursion boat left. (That would be our boat that we almost missed).
At least the Dirty Hippies kept you well informed while hiking, with painted signs and colorful trash cans along the trial.
Butterfly Valley was the fourth stop our excursion boat made that day in isolated coves off Turkey’s Mediterranean coast. We’d jump overboard and swim around, then climb aboard and hit another stretch of beach. The day before we’d done a 12-island cruise with the same M.O. The biggest difference is that our boat on Day Two had a water slide that curved through the bowels of the boat and spit you out starboard. Weeeeeee!!!
Another difference, on Day Two I encountered some jelly fish while swimming. Not enough to take me out of the game, but enough to sting. On a scale of 1-10 (10 being a hot poker in the eye), these stings were a measly 2 – mere discomfort. The stings certainly didn’t impede my hike into Butterfly Valley or my Olympic-sprint outta there.
The motto for the day was: Float like a butterfly, sting like a … jellyfish. (Ouch! That line hurt more than the jellyfish…)
p.s. I only saw one butterfly in Butterfly Valley.
This entry was posted on Friday, July 24th, 2009 and is filed under Europe.