The High Point

David and I at the top of the trail. Aga Limani is barely
visible at the bottom of the cliff. 

One of the activities I looked forward to in Turkey was a three-hour hike above Aga Limani cove. According to our trip itinerary, we would leave our gulet, hike an "herb-scented trail" and end up at the Sunken Baths of Cleopatra. The alternative was to sail from Point A to Point B on the gulet, enjoying the turquoise Mediterranean and having quiet time for reading, writing, reflecting, conversing or just enjoying the incredible scenery.

A bit of backstory: On June 6, an orthopedic surgeon put a screw in my broken left wrist, the result of my tripping over Cooper, our Beagle, on one of our driveway walks in May.  Consequently, I was wearing a brace on my left arm.

The three-mile/three-hour hike was June 19. Our guide Gokhan cautioned us that the hike was strenuous, five on a scale of one to five, he said, over narrow goat trails in some places. Once you start the hike, he said, you have to keep going. You can't go back.

When I asked Gokhan privately what he thought about my going, he hesitated. He assured me that I was physically fit for the hike, but he was concerned that I might slip and fall on loose gravel and rock. It couldn't be that bad, I thought. After all, I had managed to walk all over the marble streets of Ephesus without falling—and marble is very slick.

The next morning the hiking group said good-by to the sailing-with-the-gulet group and headed out, all of us equipped with walking sticks thoughtfully provided by Gokhan.

We set off in good spirits, walking along the trail, enjoying one another's company and the beautiful day. We kept climbing higher and higher, Gokhan assuring us that there was no hurry, encouraging us to drink water and keeping his eye on all of us. He had an innate sense of when we needed to stop for a few minutes under a tree.

About halfway through our hike, we stopped at a shepherd's house. Outside the small rock house was a wooden platform, shaded by a roof, the floor covered with rugs and pillows. We gratefully flopped onto the comfortable floor, accepted freshly-brewed sage tea from the shepherd's wife and listened as the shepherd played his flute.  Gokhan explained that the couple lives there year-round. They harvest wild herbs, raise chickens and goats, make yogurt and cheese and take their goods to market.

Gail and I relax at the shepherd's house.

Our shepherd host plays his flute. 

Then we were off again. The hike was getting more difficult; the trail narrower and covered with flat rocks which were covered with loose rocks which were covered with loose gravel. On one side was a cliff going straight up; on the other, a cliff going straight down.

Did I mention that I'm terrified of heights?

I kept my eyes on the trail, placing my feet just so and using the walking stick to find solid ground under the loose rocks. I couldn't turn back; I had to continue.

Walking the trail.

At last, we reached the top of the trail. Triumphantly, I sat beside David and Gokhan took our picture.

Then we started down. The loose rocks and gravel made the path even more precarious than on the way up. I relied more on the walking stick—and on my trail coach, David. He gently coached, "Put your walking stick here. Now put your foot down sideways," and he added, "The coefficient of friction. . . " Several times, I sat down and scooted on my bottom and then stood up and walked again until I reached the next rock outcropping that required bottom scooting.

Finally, welcome sights: Cleopatra's Sunken Baths and our gulet anchored in Aga Limani Cove. I watched my steps even more carefully on the last few yards between me and the beach where I would wait for the small boat to take me back back to the gulet.

I was exhausted, drenched with sweat and absolutely ecstatic. I had hiked the strenuous trail, wearing a brace on my left arm, didn't panic, didn't fall and didn't lag seriously behind. Several of my fellow hikers told me that they had doubts about whether I should even try hiking, given the brace on my left arm. They also told me that they admired my determination and tenacity.

Now that I look back, I'm still amazed at what I did, even as I recognize that I didn't do it by myself. I had a wonderfully supportive group of fellow hikers, a great trail coach and a terrific guide.

And those Sunken Baths of Cleopatra? Turns out that they are really medieval monasteries, sinking gently into the Mediterranean.

The Sunken Baths of Cleopatra, actually medieval monasteries.

Our gulets in Aga Limani Cove.