My first memory of Antalya is rain . Heavy , soaking rain — the kind a traveler wishes she could just brush off , but can only hope to find humorous in retrospect . It is funny now , remembering our arrival at the hotel , umbrellas ( mine , at least ) inaccessible from suitcases stashed under the bus , which deposited us onto a crowded sidewalk in the sopping wet dark . Totally unglamorous .
Even funnier is the text I sent my husband , while I sat , dejected and dripping , underneath the chandelier in the overly-glamorous hotel room he dubbed ( from afar ) “ Liberace ’ s pool house .” I still have the message on my phone , accompanying the photo of my crystal-bedecked accommodations . It reads , verbatim : “ I think we ’ re entering a lowlight .”
My deepest apologies to Antalya : I could not have been more wrong .
DISPATCHES • JANUARY • JUNE 2023 25