The Long Goodbye

After a little downtime to recover from a morning exploring the ruins at Ephesus and an easy afternoon at the former Greek village of Sirince, we gather at a restaurant just off the Aegean for one last meal together as a group. It is hard to comprehend the distance we have traveled and all of the experiences we have collected in the previous few days. It is harder to accept that the show is over.

The 29 of us – fellow cast members, our fearless leader, and our driver – fill a long table at the restaurant, which wisely decided to seat our enthusiastic (i.e. pleasantly loud) group outside.  Each cast member is given a copy of the group photo from outside the Greek Orthodox church of Saints Constantine and Helen (Aios Konstantine Eleni Kilisesi) in Mustafapasa along with the email addresses that other group members chose to share.  It is the anniversary of one of the couples in the group and the day before my Beloved Travel Companion’s (BTC) birthday.  Both events are celebrated with a cake an lit candles – same cake, lovingly relit – and my BTC is surprised, embarrassed and overwhelmed in appropriate proportions.

As the dinner winds to a close and gifts are exchanged, a voice suggests that someone should say something.  Unfortunately for this group, I was prepared for just such an event.  Notes in hand – because “going rogue” is a high risk when I get “off script” – I say a few words as the presumptive voice of the group to share our appreciation with our guide, A, and driver, R.  I try to keep the topics positive and the humor inoffensive because I know my words will be translated for R who speaks little English.  I think it went OK.  After dinner, I shook hands with R and thanked him in my “best” Turkish.  He smiled, sat back in his chair and placed his palm over his heart.  I choose to interpret this as a complimentary motion and hope it is not the Turkish gesture for “Funny guy, I will kill you later when there are fewer witnesses.”

The goodbyes began soon afterwards.

Two will catch an early taxi to the airport in a few hours, so we will not see them at breakfast.

The next morning, the group diminishes further as we each peel off to our own destination.  Two are staying in the Kusadasi area, three are heading to the nearby Greek island of Samos to continue their journeys.  A scheduled strike at the Samos airport between certain hours today left a couple cast members scurrying to obtain other flight arrangements.

Twenty-two were on the bus to the Izmir airport.  All conversations during the hour-plus drive to the airport were of a similar theme: the great time we had, how wonderful the experience was and how really we must keep in touch.  As we arrive, the goodbyes begin anew.  Four are off for a few more days in Turkey and will be driven to a place to meet their ride to the Izmir peninsula.  Our guide, A, collects her bag and calls a final farewell to us all and dashes into the airport. Her flight, due to leave in an hour’s time, restricts the time she can spare – although we do pass her in the airport for one last goodbye.  With a final wave, our driver, R, climbs the steps back into the driver’s seat.  With a hiss of air, the door swings closed and the white bus pulls away.

Sixteen go through the preliminary security checkpoint where our bags are X-rayed and we are scanned before entering the Izmir Adnan Menderes airport.  We say another round of goodbyes to the four who are on different flights to Istanbul. Two others disappear into the swirl of bodies.  I saw one at a distance while in line to check in for the flight, but she was gone by the time our check-in was complete.

Ten board the 11am flight to Istanbul airport.  Despite the brevity of the flight (about one-hour), the food and beverage service – a small lunch and drinks – casts my mind back to a day when air travel was slightly less uncivilized: the 1990s.  The rain politely ceased as we land at Istanbul Ataturk airport – an added blessing since we exit the plane onto the tarmac and enter idling buses waiting to deliver us for the terminal.  Deplaning is done from both the front and rear of the aircraft, further dividing our group.

Once inside, I keep my eye open for a distinctively tall cast member.  I spot him across the baggage claim area as he is looking for information about their subsequent air connection.  I ran across the secured area – perhaps not a wise choice during these days of heightened security – to catch the group of four before they disappeared through the secruity gate on their way to the next flight.  Departing the embrace of one cast member, she looks me in the eye and tells me to not be a stranger.  Part request, part order but said with a smile nonetheless.  I will do my best to comply.

And then there were six.  We stood, absently watching the conveyor for our bags as we prepare for a few more days in Istanbul.  The conversation shifts and discusses the intensity of the past few weeks.  Despite the size of the group, we all had the opportunity to get to know one another through the same shared experiences: the early mornings, the impressive locales, the language lessons where our mishandling of the Turkish tongue bordered on a criminal act.  While we knew some cast members better than others, the group as a whole looked out for one another.  We collectively knew when someone was absent, we were concerned when someone was injured, purchased food with the intent to share, and compared notes from the discoveries we made on our own, be it commercial (where to buy what), culinary (where to eat), or experiential (what to see).  We even shared the same cold which, I hope, future epidemiologists will not refer to as the “Turkish Flu of 2010.”  It reached the point that I could locate our group and sometimes identify individual cast members be the pitch and style of their dry cough.  Perhaps I should not head directly into work when I return.

Another splintering as our group breaks into three groups of two.  The rain begins again as we shuffle off to the cabs and shuttle buses waiting to take us back to the Sultanahmet district of Istanbul where this adventure began. The final goodbyes are held off a few more hours – we are meeting the remaining four cast members for dinner tonight, two members are staying in the same hotel as us.  Until that last moment, that final wave, we are still on vacation, still basking in the afterglow of the great memories while they still remain vivid.

I will hold onto them as long as I can.

• Kusadasi
• Turkey