January 30, 2010

Two-in-one trip, how to take a break within a break... Need a thrilling escape from your own holiday? More of us are enjoying a mini-adventure in the middle of a traditional getaway

Picture this: you’re lying by the pool enjoying the sun at your hotel or villa. It’s perfect — well, almost. The relaxation is great, but you need just a touch of excitement. Wouldn’t it be nice — just for a night or so — to push off on a yacht, retreat to an igloo, or head into the Sahara to sleep under the stars, before returning to the comfort of your hotel?

More companies are offering a sub-break option as tourists seek more bang for their holiday buck. It might add extra excitement, make it more relaxing or intensify the sense of escape. And because it’s already in the package, you can expect it to be twice the fun rather than double the trouble.

Paddle your way across the sea in Turkey

Nicholas Roe takes time out from the sun lounger for a two-night kayak and camping trip

Our trip began suddenly, like an electric shock. One moment, someone was saying quietly, “Here’s your paddle”. Next thing we were at sea, bows dipping under waves, spray hissing from rolling white tops, three kayaks struggling across a brilliantly sunny bay. An amazing start.

All that audible wind. Saltwater smells. Water smacking me in the face, shirt soaking wet. But now some low island mountains were creating a bit of shelter at last, so we had a minute to sit there for a bit, bobbing up and down in the swell, looking back at what we had managed so far ... that vast Turkish coastline; that huge, shiny sea.

It felt wonderful, but it was a sense of contrast that gave the moment its real kick. Until now we had been staying a few miles up the coast in a boutique hotel, the Kalkan Regency, wallowing in snug sheets and languid pool life. That was lovely, of course. Yet even the most charming holiday can feel numbing after a while, and that, roughly speaking, explains how we arrived here on our “break within a break” — a two-night kayak and camping trip, exploring life beyond patio breakfasts.

Two holidays in one sounds a bit greedy. But out there in the bay in that opening moment it felt ... necessarily different.

There were four of us: me, friend Mike, Vicky (English with a Turkish husband) and an absurdly named guide called Tuna. No, really. I had to keep myself from sniggering every time I said his name, but he looked every inch the nautical figure, complete with earrings, ponytail and wild, seafaring eyes. Frankly, if he had been a lesser figure, we might have balked at setting off in such a wind — about force 5, which is quite high for kayaks.

Our starting village was called Ucagiz, which means “three mouths”, referring to its location within a deep inlet on Turkey’s rugged southern coastline; the “mouths” being routes to the open sea around a series of protective islands. So we were effectively paddling within a vast subsection of the Mediterranean, a 20km basin forming a natural harbour that has encouraged settlement here for millennia.

The ancient Lycians, whose city federation flourished 2,500 years ago, set up shop in this region, and signs of their lives are still visible — especially to the kayaker. That became obvious a few hours later after we paddled in the lee of a long island chain, heading west. It didn’t matter that we weren’t experienced paddlers. We made dogged progress, passing craggy limestone inlets filled with sucking sounds of waves whooshing in and out of rock holes, wind dashing foam into our faces, the seascape fizzing around us. We felt tired, but that was all right — it was exactly the change we needed. No poolside glamour, just soaking shirts, glaring sunshine and a sense of space.

At the end of the bay an isolated restaurant sat on the sea’s edge. A local family lounged on a veranda pipping olives with nodding charm like extras on a film set. Here we stopped to stretch muscles and wolf down sea bream, chips and salad, a greedy moment made sharper by fatigue. But when Tuna said “You want a walk?” we jumped to our feet.

He led us along a short section of the Lycian Way, Turkey’s best-known longdistance hiking trail, and after a few minutes we found ourselves standing among dozens of 2,000-year-old stone coffins. Lycian culture had been laid to rest on this hillside: we stayed half an hour, examining ancient pottery shards, peering into empty tombs, wallowing in a sense of frozen time. Then back to the boats, pushing off for a downwind slide back along the bay.

We camped that night on Kekova Island, a 4km spread of rock and wild olive trees, setting up our tents next to an 8th-century church ruin overshadowed by the remnants of larger stoneworks at least 2,500 years old. I found myself kicking amphora handles out of the way to pitch my tent, which felt like dancing on display cases in the British Museum. Over a campfire, Tuna talked about all this history while the olive-wood fire burnt fiercely and we ate meatballs, onions and salad, and drank Turkish red wine. Then we washed up in the dark sea and fell asleep to the sound of ripples at the edge of our beach, waking fitfully as goats browsed between our tents.

The following morning was so calm it was almost too easy paddling around the island, exploring the remains of the city of Dolichiste, destroyed by an earthquake in AD141. Sometimes tour boats throbbed past crammed with people staring partly at the half-sunken ruins, partly at us. They seemed miles away up there with their soft drinks and cameras. Down at water level our kayaks rubbed against the crumbled stoneworks of half-sunken churches.

We paddled on, past shoals of startled flying fish leaping from the water, past silent yachts and lonely coastlines, to an island in the east of that vast blue basin where we camped again amid yet more ruins, and drank more wine. It was another deliciously lazy, beautifully shabby moment full of dirty clothes and sweaty bodies and nobody caring.

But late that night, just when we were ready to sleep, Tuna said: “Do you want a surprise?” He led our canoes in torchlit darkness over glassy black water to an immense sea cave so dark that when we floated inside and turned out our lights it was like a blindness.

And later, back over the campfire, we saw a brilliant shooting star travelling across the sky, leaving sparks in its wake. Tuna said that he had seen nothing like it before, but I felt that it suited the journey, the sense of difference. We toasted ourselves with raki and ate midnight snacks of goat cheese.

Heading back to Ucagiz the following morning, past small bays and carved rocky inlets, we felt burnt out and overwhelmed as we finally beached the kayaks. After a meal, we returned to the hotel, where we were told that our rooms were ready and dinner would be served at eight. Time to shave away three days of beard, scrub off the salt, and lie on the clean sheets, thinking of waves, wind, black nights, campfires, ruins and stars.

Need to know

Getting there Exclusive Escapes has seven nights’ B&B at the Kalkan Regency from £600pp sharing, including return flights, transfers and a day’s gulet cruise. Sea kayaking adventures start from £165pp, including a guide, kayaks, all meals and beach camps.