Kabak and Cennet Valley

People told me there would be a minibus from Fethiye to Kabak. There is one road, but there is no indicated bus stop. So I ran from one side of the road to the other a couple of times asking the minibus drivers. Out of nowhere a woman stopped and asked me if I wanted to go to Kabak and told me to jump in. She didn’t speak English so we Google translated our entire conversation. Her name was Fatma.

The road from Fethihe to Kabak Valley is beautiful. You could also hike the whole Lacian route. Kabak Valley is just 20 km from all the disgusting all-inclusive hotels, but you have the feeling you are in paradise. Kabak is a deep valley and the walk down is pretty steep. Down were plenty of huts that provided great rooms and breakfast. It was a similar backpackers vibe as you might find in South East Asia.

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Fatma told me it I could either stay with the cool backpackers or join her to Cennet Valley. I decided to follow her. Down at the beach of Kabak Valley a boat was already waiting to bring us there. There were no hostels, no apartments and no red English sea cows floating in a swimming pool. There was a small tent camp and the remains of a psytrance party. It was just Fatma, the camping owner and me. They kept each other busy so I felt I had the entire valley to myself.

After three days of solitude I decided it was time for a beer so I hiked back to Kabak. In the burning sun. Without water. Since there was no one around I decided to go skinny dipping at one of the small valley beaches along the way. Just when I put my clothes at a rock and my feet survived the sharp stoned beach a boat arrived with young Turkish girls and I wasn’t sure what the legal consequences were in Turkey for showing my fine body to minors. I decided to stay in the water, .

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Most of Kabak is crowded with especially young world wise Istanbullies. I stayed at Latcho. Great food and full of stoners. It costs about 13 euro’s for breakfast, dinner and tent. In Kabak the only thing you can do is lay on the beach, swim to a cave, smoke weed and drink beers. At least, that’s the only thing we did. I was one of the few who didn’t speak Turkish and did speak English, not that it mattered because conversations reduced to a minimum after smoking.

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