That Time I Thought I was Getting Kidnapped

I’m sitting in the backseat of a car, flanked by two Turkish men. I do not know their names, nor can we communicate. There are two more men in the front seat. We are driving along a windy highway through the mountains, and I’m supposed to be by the ocean. The windows are up, the doors are locked. I’m smiling on the outside, trying to remain cool, but inside I’m wondering if this is going to turn into the movie Taken. I must plan an escape route.

Rewind. 2012. I’m sitting in Cadaques, Spain, a beautiful fisherman’s wharf where Salvador Dali built his home. I’m writing in my journal enjoying tapas (small plates of food) listening to the laughter of small children and their families. This is my Summer of YES. My solo journey through Europe for 6 weeks. No plans, no agenda, whatever direction I was feeling drawn towards spontaneously I would say yes to (within reason of course). 

I look across the water to the setting sun and pull my phone out to capture it. A what’s app message (app for communication- great for traveling) pops up from a girl I had met very briefly at a creative conference earlier that summer. We had sat next to each other for an hour over dinner and shared great conversation. She asked if I was still in Europe, and if so, would I like to meet her and a group of friends in Marmaris, Turkey to go sailing in 4 days. 

Immediately my walls go up. Turkey, though I had heard great things about it, had not been on my list for places to visit this trip. Also, 4 days away?? That's going to interfere with the little plans I do have! I think of all the reasons it doesn’t make sense. Then I remembered my promise to myself. That I would say yes to things that scared me and be open to adventure. So though my mind is screaming all the reasons I should say no, I type back, “YES.”

I assumed (my first mistake) that we would all be arriving together. No such luck. I am the first to arrive and was told someone would be at the exit with my name on a sign. I walk out into the scorching 95 degree + weather, down to the pick up station where 40 Turkish men stand. Not a woman in sight. Many of the men are trying to offer me a ride as I scan the signs for my name. It’s not on any of them. I am not sure what to do. The more time I spend waiting and looking around like an out of place tourist, the more vulnerable I am becoming to potential danger. I look up the name of the boat company on my emails (no service and no wifi) and search the signs again. This time I spot a guy with the company written on the sign, but misspelled. He doesn’t speak English and doesn’t know my name but immediately starts guiding me away to an unmarked car that is definitely not a taxi or car service. Suddenly, his friend is with us too. As we near the car doors I stop.  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, I need to make sure this is right!” I ask to talk to someone else and they phone their boss who speaks even less English. He isn’t very helpful. When we get off the phone I have a split second to make a decision. I look into both their eyes. I don’t sense malicious intent. The car doors open. Here we go.

Cut to me in the car. Two men have turned into four. Shit. This is Not good. I have no idea how close or far Marmaris was. Twenty minutes into the drive through rural mountains, I begin to inwardly panic. I try to keep things light and smile politely at the guys who are glancing at me in case they sense my fear. I find cell service and text my girl friend, giving her names of exits we were passing in case something happened.

We pull off onto a gravel road that leads to a shack. Okay now I’m really fucked. I start imagining whose grasp I’ll have to slip through first. How I would drop to the ground and make a break for the mountains, fuck my luggage. As we pull to a stop two men get out and enter the shack. Oh god, they’re probably getting something to knock me out with. The guy in the front passenger seat keeps checking on me. “Stay calm Maiara” I thought. The guys walk back and tell me to get out of the car. This is it! Get ready to run! The man in the passenger seat gets out too. My adrenaline is at an all time high. After a terrifyingly long moment of silence, the men usher me into the front seat and send me alone with the driver to continue our journey. What the hell?

Cut to two HOURS later. I’m exhausted and confused, and the driver will not stop flirting with me and telling me long stories I can't comprehend. He takes my hat off my head and starts impersonating different American actors he knows. I finally crack a smile. We round a bend and BOOM! The OCEAN! Marmaris!

I’ve survived! I could almost kiss the man I once thought was my captor. The ocean looks inviting, boats bobbing up and down on its cerulean surface, an invitation into freedom. I find the boat we will be staying on and walk around the small town gratefully. Looking around I see beautiful Arabic influenced art and colorful mosaic glass lighting fixtures.  My friends arrive hours later, and are amused with my story.

Moral of it? Never assume anything! If you’re traveling somewhere you’ve never been with no knowledge of the language, do yourself a favor and at least figure out the distance between the airport and your destination and be clear on when and where you’re meeting up with people. Also, though it worked out for me this time, as a single woman, I’ll never get into a car with four men that I don’t know alone again. 

Turkey turned out to be one of the most gorgeous places I have ever been. We sailed from Marmaris to Fethiye and spent two nights in Istanbul. The city blew my mind, especially the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sofia. What had started off in my imagination as a potential kidnap/torture nightmare turned into the magic below. I thanked that one simple word that took me out of my comfort zone. YES.

                                            

I like to call this the Tree of Life. 

Gemiler Island (aka Saint Nicholas Island)

The woman who inspired it all. Thank you for the invitation!

The Blue Mosque- Istanbul