Marmaris Sailing Trip

I have never been particularly fond of boats. Until then, my sea journeys had been limited to city ferries, island ferries and Mediterranean cruises. For four years, my parents had spent every summer sailing between Turkey's southern coast and the Greek islands, even taking part in sailing races. This year my brother and I joined their crew for a five-day sailing trip around Selimiye, and I decided to share each day on the blog.
We left İzmir at six in the evening and, after a three-hour drive through thyme-scented forests, had a lovely meal at Çınar Restaurant near Marmaris before reaching our boat in Orhaniye. I knew very little about sailing, but apparently our yacht was a 15-metre Bavaria built in 2013. Everyone loved it and described the interior as a spacious saloon; to me it still felt like a very tiny house. In any case, we settled in and spent the night on board.
In the morning, our cabin had warmed under the sun when my father's voice woke us. We had breakfast at Martı Marina in Marmaris. Marina prices were not outrageous, though they seemed a little higher than elsewhere. There also appeared to be an unofficial dress code: almost everyone was walking around in linen shorts. As luck would have it, there was a problem with our sail, so we had to wait while it was fitted and repaired.
Later on our first day aboard, we anchored at Selimiye. It was an exceptionally peaceful bay, yet it had plenty of visitors; the marina and restaurants were almost full. At sunset we swam in water that, in the words of my gynaecologist mother, was 'as peaceful as the womb', then sat down for evening tea.

Along the bay were small grocery shops, souvenir stalls and simple beach cafés serving mantı and gözleme beneath green trees. Where we sat, lamps had been made from straw hats. Back on the boat, we took open-air showers, put on simple but elegant clothes, and went ashore for dinner. We noticed more charming lights hanging casually from the trees, made from sink pumps and funnels. We sipped rakı with delicious meze, then returned to the boat in the gentle breeze to sleep off the first day's fatigue. On day two, we left Selimiye and, with a favourable wind, switched off the engine. After sailing for about an hour and a half, we anchored in a bay called Dirsekbükü. The glassy blue water and green landscape were beautiful, but even the man-made boats and sails looked dazzling.

Until evening, being away from a marina—and therefore without electricity—helped us enjoy the sea, our food and the cool air. At least that was true for me, as someone whose work usually keeps me online.
After dark, every boat in the bay fell quiet. The graceful lights on the tall masts and the bright, nearly full moon put on the most beautiful show of all. Around a lively table lit by an enormous candle we found on the yacht, we sang songs and ate together. Then everyone retreated to a corner and went to sleep. Our route for day three would be Symi.