The Things Worth Saving

On my first hiking trip in Turkey last week, my two girlfriends and I opened the creaky wooden gate to the rest stop we’d chosen for the evening. Buried deep in the foothills of Fethiye, located at the junction of the Aegean & Mediterranean seas, it was called Fatma Pansiyon - 'Pansiyon' being the Turkish name for hostel.

Weary from the day’s long hike, we walked tentatively through the dusty gravel entrance.? Chickens clucked around us. We looked up to see one sitting comfortably perched in an olive tree.?

Fatma - a plump, motherly Turkish woman? standing next? to an open wood fire, greeted us with a smile, popping a hot potato chip in our mouths before we had time to register what it was.? “Oh!? It’s hot!” I exclaimed, my mouth filled with a lightly salted, steaming potato wedge.? It was delicious.?

We communicated through hand gestures, and a few words of halting English.? We had learned to say ‘thank you’ in Turkish - ‘Tesekkürler’, but not much else. ? She gestured for us to remove our hiking boots and wear house slippers, before? showing us to our bedroom, a clean but basic room with a shower that trickled to a drip by the time the third person amongst our group had taken a shower.??

Joined by two other hikers, we ate dinner communally with Fatma and her husband at a long dining table.? Fatma had made a selection of home cooked Turkish dishes, served with a rice pilaf combined with vermicelli noodles toasted in olive oil.??

We pulled up Google translate after we’d reached the limitations of our hand gestures and had exhausted our quota of “tesekkürler’s”.? Fatma asked “how did you hear about our place?” speaking into our phone in Turkish.? “We’d been recommended your Pansiyon by a hiking guide we’d bumped into at a roadside stall serving freshly squeezed pomegranate juice.” ? Google translated.? “Where are you hiking to?” we asked our fellow Turkish hikers.? Again, Google translated.? We carried on in this way, gesturing, smiling and communicating haltingly over home made soup and the help of a phone.?

I brought out my bar of Tony’s Chocolonely dark chocolate with almond chunks as we shared a pot of hot tea after dinner.? My chocolate bar in its bright green wrapper felt mass produced and out of place in this rustic setting.? I broke off uneven pieces and offered it around the table.? To my delight, no one declined a piece.? Fatma and her husband.? The Turkish hikers? - who offered us their snack of salty pretzel sticks in return.? We shared our treats like sacraments.? I was struck by the trust. The lack of apprehension. ? I wondered if we would have shared this moment at a hotel with bathrobes.?

The next morning, as the sun rose over the dry terraced hills dotted with olive and pomegranate trees, Fatma beckoned for us to eat her freshly made G?zlemes - Turkish pancakes, filled with spinach and crumbled goats cheese. They were accompanied by small pots of honey, stewed fruit, black olives, fresh cucumber and tomato wedges. ? Fatma managed to convey she’d woken up at 430am to make the dough for the pancakes.? She was tired.? We asked her to rest on the sofa next to the dining table.? She shook her head in protest, like a gracious host putting on a brave front, but lay down anyway.? When my friend placed a blanket over her, she fell asleep.? We smiled and crept out of the room.?

Our night at Fatma’s Pansiyon made me think about the things worth saving. ?

Warm, spontaneous welcomes, expressed through a simple wood fired potato. A thick blanket placed over a tired host. The passing around of crumbled chocolate amongst strangers.

It made me think about Airbnb and their humble beginnings.? How the original idea behind it - challenging the notion of impersonal hotel chains - is now mostly a forgotten dream. The intimacy of staying in someone's home, lost to shareholder demands and the relentless hunger for scale and profit.?

It made me think of the time my family stayed at a similar ‘pansiyon’ in Patagonia, over 12 years ago. The Korean lady owner had run from her reception area to our cabin room, banging urgently on our door and yelling “Open the door! Look outside!!”?

We opened our door - stunned to see the most glorious double rainbow - its full arches flanked by the majestic Patagonian mountains in the distance.? She stood beside us, breathing heavily, chest heaving -? beaming with pride.??

These are the things worth saving.?

A world where we share snacks from our backpacks without apprehension.?

Where we run with urgency to a stranger, propelled by the simple need to bask in the shared joy of a double rainbow.

If you're reading this on a Sunday, I hope you're safe. I hope you have a warm blanket nearby. I hope this makes you think of the things worth saving. I'd love to hear from you. Drop me a line xx

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