Bravo, Marmaris, or how to extend your vacation thanks to the airline
The idea of a trip to Marmaris arose absolutely suddenly. I came across some beautiful Photoshop-like photos, then a description of a brand new hotel with phantasmagoric landscapes, then a couple of interesting stories about boat trips to the Aegean Islands, then someone enthusiastically told about a 12-kilometer promenade... In general, the idea was formed and required a quick solutions.
The travel agency offered several hotels to choose from. Considering that I was completely unfamiliar with the Marmaris region, I had to re-study Google, Yandex, Wikimapia maps, compare photos and read reviews of tourists about hotels and excursions. The requirements are standard - for my mother of venerable age, you need a flat bottom without pebbles and stones, a minimum of stairs and descents and ascents. For me - the maximum proximity to the dolmush stops. And a sea view. Panoramic. All windows. And from the balcony. In short - as much sea view as possible.
The grandiose lonely hotel complexes between the mountains on the coast were immediately swept away - it's boring and difficult to go somewhere with an expedition. The word Ichmiler at that time meant absolutely nothing to me. I chose the compact Tropical Hotel on the outskirts of Marmaris, away from the noisy center with the street of bars and the port. The first line, almost all rooms with sea views, their own beach, excellent reviews and gorgeous photos of the sea coast are solid pluses. Cons got out already on arrival.
The tour was offered by the TPG tour operator, departure from Kherson, close to my Nikolaev. Departure on 09/09/2018 at 16.45 from Kherson, departure from Doloman at 08.00 on 09/16/2018 In general, the favorite scheme of Ukrainian tour operators: “seven nights - six days”. Well, our tour operators are not able to build a tour in such a way that they have as much time as possible to rest! Thomas Cook drives his tourists at night.
Who knew that first of all you need to find out which company operates the flight, and then everything else! I received vouchers and tickets two days before departure, and the name “Bravo Airways” did not please me at all: I recalled noisy scandals in June 2018 with flight delays and a plane that rolled over the edge of the runway. The very first visit to the forum of air passengers was an unpleasant surprise - flight delays and transfers resumed in September, people were indignant and splashed out the energy accumulated during the wait on the pages of Internet sites.
"My premonition did not deceive me. " On Sunday the 9th, we did not take off either at 16.45, or at 18.00, or at 21.00. Through simple calculations, a chain of flights of one side per day was revealed: “Kyiv-Dalaman-Kherson-Lublin-Kherson-Dalaman-Kyiv”, and our flight in this chain was the penultimate one. Since the passengers did not fly out of Kyiv, it was clear that the matter would not come to us soon. Lucky, we spent the night at home.
We flew out on Monday after 2.30 pm, finally burying one of the seven nights and one of the six days of rest. Already in the storage of Kherson airport, with non-working duty-free and one cooler for all passengers, we had the pleasure of watching how a hefty jet "MacDouglas" for 172 seats brought exactly 24 passengers from Lublin. 172 tourists to Dalaman honestly waited in line for departure. We waited. We got to the hotel for dinner, and then came surprise number 2 - check-in.
The adamant on-duty manager Tropikala, using a mixture of Turkish and English, dismissed all attempts to “financially negotiate” and settled our entire Kherson group in rooms without balconies on the second floor overlooking... a road with very active round-the-clock traffic, paved with explosive tiles. Nobody managed to adjust the air conditioner, so the choice was simple - either freeze under a waffle blanket, or listen to the roar of transport.
I don't want to say anything about segregation, but in these super-rooms, of which there were no more than twenty throughout the hotel, only residents of the post-Soviet republics lived (it's hard to call it a vacation). For complete happiness, the room was "two-level" - three slippery steps led to the bathroom and the exit. Pleased my mother with arthrosis, nothing to say.
I myself was to blame for something - even when choosing a tour I wanted to take a Sea View room, but the cheerful manager of the travel agency said that all the rooms in the hotel already have a view, and there is nothing to overpay for it. In short, in my voucher were the fatal letters "ROH" - "at the discretion of the hotel. " By the way, all our tourists were roaring. I won’t fall for this again, I learned my lesson.
On the third day, with incredible efforts, with the involvement of a guide, we managed to persuade the main manager to move me and my mother to a room without stairs. I fully appreciated the black humor of the manager when I was handed the key to the room... on the 0th floor. A lonely room with a separate entrance, designed for the disabled, was separated from the pool by lush greenery, so that my mother and I formed a private bungalow. If you peered hard, you could see five centimeters of the sea through the gap between the palm trees and the roof of the bar. But in the afternoon, a hefty turtle came to visit us, which lived in the local thickets. Tropics!
The hotel itself, apart from the strange attitude of the management, is quite decent. Quiet, no animation. Everything is compact: one pool, one restaurant, one bar. And this is quite enough! The food is excellent, the restaurant and bar is located above the promenade, with a magnificent view of the bay, the beach and the yachts of Marmaris. Few children, many handsome European pensioners dozing for days in bar chairs over a cup of tea. In the morning they have breakfast for hours, and in the evenings they gather in flocks and argue quietly about something. Respectable rest by the sea.
The narrow beach accommodated enough sun loungers so that no one fought for a place in the sun. The first line of sun loungers is traditionally covered with towels from seven in the morning. But the most important thing is the sea. Pure, transparent, with a hard gentle sandy entrance and small pebbles for decoration and light foot massage. In the sea - a unique peeling with wild biting fish that pounce on the feet of bathers in shallow water. Here and there are heard the quiet squeals of those suddenly bitten by these small fish. Some stoically endured a free spa treatment, substituting their heels for the fish.
The main bonus of the beach is the incredible panorama of the bay of Marmaris: with islands, mountains, sea, sun, yachts, feluccas, boats, boats, water taxis, scooters, parachutes. Our beach was on the outskirts of the city, the movement of water transport passed away, so the sea was absolutely transparent, warm, gentle and calm.
The famous Promenade runs between the hotel and the beach. Different sources give different figures for its length - from 5 to 15 km. A well-equipped path is lined with colored tiles, around palm trees, oleanders and bougainvillea. Tropics! We walked as much as my mother could, and no camera would be enough to capture this bright and catchy beauty of the resort of Marmaris.
I fell in love with Marmaris at first sight. We walked a lot around the city, went to shops and shopping centers, traded and admired bright souvenirs. Surprisingly clean, refined, well-groomed town. Main road with equipped bike paths and non-slip tiles for pedestrians. Hundreds of shops, boutiques, cafes and restaurants.
Marmaris is a kaleidoscope of impressions. Glittering in the evening lighting footpaths in the Old Center near the port. A dondurma horn jumping out of the hands of a surprised mother from a laughing seller of cold treats. Half a kilo of the freshest steak on display in a steakhouse window. Neat showcases for the sale of bread. Graceful forged balconies of the office of lawyers. Huge chandelier in the mall. A million bottles of olive oil in Migros. Incredibly cheap medicines compared to Ukrainian pharmacies. Lushly blooming at the level of the fourth floor bougainvillea. A benevolent dolmush driver who did not take money from two stupid tourists who mistakenly drove instead of the coast to the very top of Marmaris in the Armutalan region. Multi-colored dolmushi, specially painted in certain colors, so that tourists know that they will definitely get to Icmiler on an orange bus. The funny fortress of Sultan Suleiman, lost behind the tall masts of modern super-yachts. A scattering of night lights on the coast, merging with the stars reflected in the sea. Tangerine and pomegranate trees mixed with zucchini and geraniums in the front garden of a cozy mansion. And tens, hundreds, thousands of hotels.
Our excursion program was very short. My mother and I could not refuse the classic boat trip around the islands of the Aegean Sea with an indispensable entry to the island of goats and swimming in colorful coves. Water of the color of spilled blue, azure, turquoise, young greenery, blue, blue, heavenly - the local marine palette is incredibly generous.
We went to Ichmiler for 3 lira on an orange dolmush. Back - by water taxi with a cheerful boatman. “You are happy! ” he told me after he gathered about twenty tourists from different piers of Ichmiler to the port of Marmaris from my light foot, the first to step into his boat that day. Maybe. Or Marmaris shared with me a particle of his luck.
Thought is material. Lying on the beach, I seriously calculated how to agree on an extension of the holiday and postpone the departure for another week. A strict mother quickly shortened my dreams, but Marmaris himself decided not to let us go so soon.
On September 16 at 8.00 we did not fly anywhere. The plane of the long-suffering Bravo Airways, which broke down in Hurghada, once again twisted the entire flight schedule of the company and disrupted the plans of thousands of tourists in Tunisia, Ukraine, Egypt and Turkey. I do not envy the travel agents who tried to somehow calm down their tourists, who were stuck at home, in a hotel, or at the airport. Our flight was not listed on the airline's website. The sites of the Kherson airport, as well as Zhulyan and Boryspil, were also silent. The tour operator TPG on the site posted a transfer of flights a couple of times and houndedly calmed down. Hotel guides dropped out of Viber abruptly. Tourists collected information bit by bit.
Toward dinner we began to move. The twitchy guide tried to shove twenty people into different hotels. Part remained in Marmaris. Some were taken to a boutique hotel on the first line of Ichmiler. We, with our happiness, got a very tired club-hotel "Selenium". The first shock was that the guys in the “club house” had no towels at all. The second shock is the queue for assorted plates and dubious soup; mountains of bread on the plates of hotel guests. Hot breakfast - boiled eggs. The third shock - the beach is paid. Otherwise, we were lucky. Seeing my venerable mother, the manager stepped in and gave us the keys to a completely clean room, without a sea view, but with a working air conditioner and even two towels.
I did not appreciate the beach of Icmiler, praised by everyone in the reviews. It is very similar to Koblevo or the Iron Port on Independence Day: a bunch of dirty sunbeds, a sea of people both on the shore and in the water. Finished off the seller of boiled corn. Yes, around the incredible beauty of the mountains and the island, the water is clean and warm, but the number of tourists has exceeded the capabilities of a tiny village. I liked the beach at the Tropical Hotel much more - there were no more than 5-6 people in the water at the same time. Ichmiler is remembered for its pretty canals and riot of tropical greenery.
Marmaris did not let go. The flight was rescheduled every two to three hours. We had dinner, spent the night, had breakfast, lunch and agreed with the rest of the poor fellows from the Kherson flight not to hand over the keys until the last. Caught on the territory of the hotel, a guide in a shirt with the TPG logo, who accidentally came in on business, was interrogated with prejudice, but he held firm and did not give out the time of our transfer. I had to go for a second dinner at the new hotel.
It is during dinner that you can see the difference in the class of hotels and guests. In the Tropical - quiet music, waiters scurrying around with glasses of wine and elderly guests in simple shorts and T-shirts. In Selena, there is a queue for muddy slurry a la soup, mountains of bread, guests scurrying around with glasses of intoxicating drinks, and guests smashed to smithereens, hung with kilograms of samovar gold. Nobles oblique, you know.
We still flew home. Flight Dalaman-Kherson was delayed for almost 42 hours. Upon arrival at the airport, the reception proudly lit up 15.00 and had the flight number mixed up, but we didn't care. The clock was 23.15. We were never told the time of departure, so the insolent Kherson residents spread around duty-free, and the airport staff had to literally catch Ukrainian passengers who had become stupefied from an overabundance of rest.
And yet, I will certainly advise all my friends: be sure to visit Marmaris!
