Tourists

During our short-but-sweet trip to Kaya Koy, we passed through... well... the SEVENTH CIRCLE OF TOURIST HELL.  Fearing it would swallow us up, we hunkered down in the minibus and took a couple of photos out the window.

Between Fethiye and Kaya Koy, in the middle of nowhere up in the hills and with no natural attractions, has been manufactured a most terrible tourist town with all the applicable trappings.  A sort of dystopian Disneyland.  And to the Brits I say: it's all your countrymen's damned fault - all 600,000 of them that visit the Fethiye region each year.  Our hotelier confirmed what we saw: the British apparently want to vacation somewhere that's just like Britain but warmer - with the addition of karaoke, Elvis impersonators and carnival rides.  Congratulations, the Turks have given it to you, and the world is a bit worse off as a result.

You can go to McDonners kebab house (much more authentic with the McDonald's-sounding name).

You can go to the Grand Boozey RnB & Cocktail bar.  Though I'd rather go to the Escape Bar next door and see if it lives up to its name vis-a-vis this town.

You can go to the Castello Steak House Italiano Mexicano Ristorante Cafe Bar Pizzeria, and after you've eaten yourself into a coma you will fit right in at Zombie Cocktail and Dancing next door.  Or perhaps you'd rather see what's on offer at the authentically Irish Hamish McTurk Travel Agency downstairs.

Or for non-adventurous souls, just throw in the towel and eat at the English Restaurant, followed by a new tattoo - probably of a copyrighted cartoon character.

And who wouldn't want all-you-can-eat Chinese-Indian-Mexican for around $10?  I'm sure your gastro-intestinal tract would find ways to thank you later.