It had been a really big decision the previous day and one which I hadnt really had much time to contemplate, in which city should I enter Turkey? Being an aeroplane anorak I had decided I wanted to fly rather than take one of the boat services, and there wasnt much difference in the price of the flights so the decision would be a matter of strategy alone. Adana was the closest city and the cheapest option, and also the most easterly, it should have been a bit cooler there which would be no bad thing. But heading east, much as my timetable necessitated it, would mean essentially giving up on half the country and with it Istanbul, Ankara, the Gallipoli battlefields and the turquoise Mediterranean coast. That would never do. I could fly to one of those cities instead but then I'd be committed to doing just a crossing of the country whereas it really merited a tour. There would always be more places passed by than explored, one simply had to try and fit as much as possible into a reasonable itinerary. There was also the small matter of visiting Betty, one of the Saline posties with whom I had a special rapport who would soon be holidaying along the coast. I made my choice.
I endured the sweaty and not wholly unpredictable farce of yomping miles out to the airline office only to find the advertised airport bus was not operating, in the end I bit the bullet and hailed a cab to Ercan airport. It was another of my quirks that I wanted to fly from this enigmatic hub, a national airport which due to the vagaries of international law could not accept international flights. Most of its departures were strangely destined for London yet all had to touch down briefly in Turkey as though it was a nominally "domestic" flight. I flew KTHY Cyprus Turkish Airlines and landed in Antalya.