Vol 55 Day 8 Selcuk

Again, the delicious breakfast at the pension, accompanied by more travel conversation with my fellow travelers. Then more whiling away the hours with Osman at the carpet shop. I still hadn't decided which rug to buy.

Then I was off to the Basilica of St John. It is believed that the evangelist St. John had spent his last years in the region around Ephesus and was buried in the southern slope of Ayosolug Hill. A small chapel was constructed over the grave in the 4th century. The church of St John was changed into a marvelous basilica during the region of Emperor Justinian (527 -565 AD).

The entrance to the basilica.

A little more detail.

A little more detail.

Click on this sign to read about the history of the basilica.

Layout and artist rendition of the basilica.

The monumental basilica was in the shape of a cross and was covered with six domes. Its construction, being of stone and brick, is an extremely rare find amongst the architecture of its time. If it were still intact St John's basilica would be the world's 7th largest cathedral.

Rampart walls around the church were constructed for protection from the Arabian attacks in the 7th - 8th centuries AD.



The apse.

Constructed in the 5th century AD, the baptistery is north of the nave, with its keyhole shape.

Raised by two steps and covered with marble, the tomb of St John was under the central dome that was once carried by the four columns at the corners.

Detail of the columns to the front left of the tomb.

Detail of the floor surrounding the tomb.

The castle above the basilica. I always thought that a castle and a palace were the same thing but in Turkey I was told that a castle is a defensive structure.

Westward view. With the invasion of the Turks, the chapel was used as a mosque in the 14th century. Unfortunately Basilica of St John became unusable due to a serious earthquake in the same century.


Next I walked through the cuter than heck town to the archeology museum. Look Mom, more cobblestones. Lots of really cool things from Ephesus are on display at the museum. But my pictures from are mysteriously missing. Perhaps I forgot to burn them to cd? So again, I offer photos lifted off the internet.


The large statue of Artemis.

Detail.

Detail.

Smaller staute of Artemis.

Detail.

Eros.

This little statue of Priapus was found in a well near the brothel in Ephesus.

I stopped in town after the museum and bought my ticket to Morocco and then met this family. They were making a couple of different pastries outside of their bakery so I hung around and waited for them to be ready. Somewhere during the hour I was there the father suggested I marry his older son, the one on the left, and make babies. I'm guessing his son was about 23. Check out this video:



I took the Lokma and the other pastry to Osman's shop and shared them with his staff and customers.

This is Osman after I told him I had bought my ticket to Morocco. Like the other rug sellers I met in Turkey he told me I was exactly the kind of woman he would like to marry. Only, he seemed to mean it. Such a sweet man.

This is the rug I chose in the end. It is a camel bag converted into a rug. I love it because it's quirky. It is mostly a woven, kilim type carpet with two patches of knotted areas.

I returned to the pension for my final dinner in Selcuk. I had purchased a ticket on the night bus back to Istanbul.

Soup, salad, stewed zuchinni, stewed eggplant, rice, bread and a fabulous cheese that i had bought at the vegetable market and passed around. No, I didn't eat all of that by myself! I was sharing my table with another traveler.
The view from the rooftop terrace at the pension.

Dervis was in a good mood as always. Playing with the baby of one of his employees and pouring on the charm, and singing the Susannah song.



Dervis drove my bags to the bus depot while I walked to Erkan the couchsurfer's shop to say goodbye to him. He told me that if I decided to move to Selcuk that he would like me. I swear that's how he phrased it. Like I was an item on a menu. "I'd like to have the dinner salad and that dorky Canadian woman". Being wooed by someone whose grasp of English is intermediate at best is pretty funny sometimes. I refrained from telling him that with those teeth he didn't have a chance.

I'll admit it. I was sad to go. Selcuk is my kind of town. And I could see myself living there. I could open a restaurant that caters to the tourists who come in droves. I walked to the bus depot, retrieved my bags and settled into my seat for the long drive back to Istanbul.