California may be responsible for exporting the Kardashians world wide (saw a lot of them in Turkey, very strange) in addition we maybe have something to do with the export of the remake of Clash of the Titians, a brutally horrible flick I watched silent bits of over the head of fellow bus riders yesterday, but thank the sweet lord, we have also exported our attitudes towards smoking, at least a little.
First the bitching:
We left Konya shortly after our last blog post. By midday the air had cleared some, and you could now see several blocks down the street, but it was still very much time to leave. In Istanbul the new smoking laws were respected almost everywhere. We were able to eat on the top floor of neighborhood lunch rooms breathing easy, something that would have been impossible not too long ago. We enjoyed movies, restaurants, and museums in relative peace. Alas, like most things, the smoking thing is worse outside cosmopolitan cities. The first sign was when we checked into “Jimmy’s Place” in Selcuk and reconfirmed our room was a non-smoking room. Jimmy explained that he TRIES to make rooms non-smoking, but people smoke in there anyway, and what can he do? The ones who ask for non-smoking rooms, according to Jimmy, they are the worst. I am a bit doubtful about that, but, OK. The room ended up being just fine and we had a lovely stay. The inside of the hotel was smoke free and everything was fine. The next hotel we stayed in, also OK. It was when our non-smoking room in Dalyan had an ash try in it that things seemed odd. Well, we told ourselves, the room has a deck and the ashtray is for the deck. We had lovely nights’ sleep with river breezes lulling us to slumber and all was good. One night we did have to ask an expat (to visualize this experience, think about meeting Michael Cane, but instead of being full of lots of interesting things to say, he really had one interesting thing to say, and he said that over and over) not to smoke in one of the restaurants we were sitting in. He seemed OK about it. We have noticed expats seem to be the worst about smoking right under the no smoking sign. Our guess is that the financial fine imposed for breaking the law (about $40) just doesn’t have the same impact on them as it does on local people. Also, maybe they moved to Turkey to smoke in peace, God darn it, and they don’t want some new fangled law to get in their way. In the next town, again a non-smoking room, and again, an ashtray, but also a deck, so who knows. The catch is that in all of these places there were ashtrays in the hallways outside out room. So, you know, that non-smoking thing doesn’t really go far. It is winter and very low season, so it didn’t matter too much since we were often the only guests, but it caught us off guard every once in awhile. We went to a Hammam, a Turkish bath and had a crazy time getting rubbed, scrubbed, soaked and rubbed again, but the attendants smoke in the main room (under that non-smoking sign again) . Now they did not, while we were there at least, smoke in the actually bath, but smoke, by definition moves itself where it wants to go, and it wanted to go where it was wet. The smell of wet bath smoke is a special kind of gross I had forgotten about. I hadn’t smelled it since traveling in my early 20s and it is still seared on my brain. The bath was still fantastic, and I would do it again (if for no other reason then they put Andrew and I together and I got to watch the look on his faces as they sudsed him up and then scrubbed.)
It was in Konya that things got yucky. We were road weary and my asthma was bugging me a bit, so we sprang for a much nicer hotel then usual. The mistake in this was few fold: 1. The hotel was full of people, Turkish people, there to see Rumi stuff and pretty much by definition they smoked 2. The hotel, specifically our window, was across from a smoke pipe 3. Konya has terrible air no matter what you do. In the middle of the night the air was ok, but by 9 am the hotel wide aircon was pumping smoke into our room. Of course we could have turned off the aircon and then opened the window, but there was the smoke pipe belching away, so that was not such a good option. The best option was to leave. And we did. We got on a bus to Cappadocia (fairy chimneys, so exciting) and prayed and prayed for some clean air.
The good stuff
I almost cried with joy when I saw all the non-smoking signs around our hotel. I was especially thrilled to see that they will charge you 150 EURO if you smoke in the room. We are staying in caves, yep, caves, and they are not known for their cross ventilation, so it must be near impossible to ever get the smell out. The note at the hotel also requested that patrons not smoke anywhere inside the hotel OR and this was the cherry on top, near doors or windows. GOD BLESS THEM. Also, where we are staying is high and rural and the air is clean anyway. GOD BLESS THIS PLACE. I walked around breathing. I walked around noticing how things smell. Everywhere we have been lately has one smell, stale smoke. This place has roses. 
When we sat down with the manager to check in I thanked him for the clean air. Turns out he was the manager at a fancy hotel in Big Sur for 4 years. When he took the management job here he changed the smoking rules to be closer to the ones in CA. He says they get less Turkish guests, but that is fine by him.
This is a nice hotel. It is low season, so, for the price of a mediocre B&B in France in August we are getting a super deluxe room in a lovely hotel with views and clean air.
We will write about what it is like sleeping and eating and hanging in a cave later. For now I get to use one of my GRE words and simply say, we are Troglodytes.
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