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Read more from GLayzenby:
Summer Holidays - A skateboarders eye view.
Why we skate.
The Southbank Tribute
The 2004 eryc Grand Prix
You have to laugh.
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Summer Holidays - A skateboarders eye view.
19/06/2009 | By GLayzenby | Comments (8)
Summer Holidays - A skaterboarders' eye view.
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So, as you all know, I have just had the opportunity to go abroad for the first time in about three years. Rhodes with a girlfriend - now ex of course - was the last place I went, Hamburg before that with my old band to play a gig, but this time I went to Turkey .
Turkey, out in the Eastern Mediterranean is a quite wonderful country, although I only saw Marmaris, a small town on the South West coast, typically catering for English tourists, but a beautiful place none the less - very mountainous, very hot, very dusty, and particularly friendly, so my assumption that it's a wonderful country is only based on what I have seen. The rest of Turkey might be a hovell for all I know, full of knife-wealding Galatasari football fans ready to stab you for wearing a Spurs shirt, gun-wealding maniacs and drug lords all waiting to pounce on any unsuspecting English dude that entered their 'hood, or even looked in the wrong direction. But to be fair, thats just being silly! You never really know though! But from my experiences, it is certainly the friendliest and most welcoming country I have seen yet.
Being the skateboarder that I am, I am continuously looking for skateable terrain, new spots and things that are just absurd - the sort of thing you would see Danny Way crook-grinding in some brilliantly produced skate video - you know what I mean? So here is my account of the potential that the country of Turkey has for amusing skateboarders such as ourselves.
Gatwick Airport, nestling precariously on the edge of the M25 bordering West Sussex, is a wonderful place to skate - it's like something from Playstations Tony Hawks Pro Skater 3 game, the Airport level of course - yet the marble floor and huge ledges, stairs, escalators and chrome rails can only realistically be resigned to the computer game - actually busting a trick down any of Gatwicks' obstacles would be just as unrealistic as the aforementioned game itself, and after a bail down a 30 stair escalator having screwed up your footing during a bluntslide, you most certainly would not get up, magestically jump back on your board as the game characters do, and triple kickflip a free standing bench for 1000 points, much as my imagination lead me to believe was possible, it most certainly is not, but thinking about it kept me amused whilst I waited in Departure for my flight to start boarding.
A four hour flight on a Boeing 767 to Dalaman Airport in Turkey is not the best journey as far as inspiration for skateboarding goes. You know what planes are like - cramped, claustrophobic, cold, and rather scary - I hate flying, and unfortunately there is nothing I can say about the flight that had anything to do with skating, so I will end the flight details here, although the thoughts I had about one of the brunette air hostesses was just as extreme as skateboarding is!
Dalaman Airport, in the West of Turkey. 3am. Im painfully tired, yet coming through passport control and out into the car park I am greeted by a super huge car park, with mellow curbs, platforms, and ledges, which briefly gives me a wake up call, alerting my senses to the possibiities of a skate. But on closer inspection alas - the tarmac is not tarmac, its concrete - rough concrete. F**king rough concrete in fact. The chances of rolling on this stuff is nigh-on impossible. The curbs, all broken and chipped, no good at all. I slope back behind my eyelids and continue to crave a hot meal, a cold beer and a cool bed.
The roads out of the airport are bumpy as hell. Do they actually have tarmac here? The answer to that is no - its such a brutally hot country that throughout most of the year that any tarmac would just melt in the heat, causing confused Turks in their tinted-windowed, left hand drive Fiats and Lancias, fat truckers in their scary deisel monsters, coach drivers in their air conditioned white buses, tourists in rented Suzuki jeeps, and young whippasnappers on thier 50cc Honda scooters, to become stuck, and slowly, very slowly, begin to submerge beneath the bitumen, eventually leaving only their foreheads and aerials peering up from below the surface of the black soup. A comical image for certain, but not ideal, and as for the principals of road building in high temperatures - well, smooth and skateable tarmac is right out the window. So, concrete cobbles are laid to make the roads, but due to the relentless battering from the Mediterranean traffic, driven with absolutely no care or attention, or possibly without tyres, or even a driver, these roads are pitted, broken, buckled and about as smooth and skateable as a typically British land fill site in mid winter.
The coach journey is about an hour and a half long from the airport to the apartments. In the dead of night the roads are empty, only a few solitary trucks and the odd van pass us in the pitch blackness. Its a rocky old place this, the short wheelbased coach flying around seemingly uncontrollably on the road, like one of the lesser vehicles obtained in Nintendo Mario Cart games, and the darkness is only spoilt only by the occasional closed yet still alluminated pub, petrol station or shop flashing past. Theres nothing here man, nothing.
The drive down through the mountains into Marmaris is a steep and scary one. Remember the final scene from the Italian Job? Well if I thought of that scene once, I thought of it a hundred times! Hairpin bend after hairpin bend. The driver took them all at speed, clearly thinking - unrealistically I might add - that scratching his head and driving one handed whilst whistling an out of tune traditional Turkish mating song, and looking entirely in the wrong direction throughout the entirity of these bends, would ease the nervous dispositions that all 20 passengers were rapidly acquiring, somehow indirectly telling us he was in total control.
It did not have the desired effect - we were all scared sh*tless.
On arrival at Green Park Apartments the first thing I thought of was the marble slope, the three marble steps down into the pool area, and the rail running a mellow line down the side of these steps, with the disabled slope adjacent, also in marble - totally skateable man, awesome - thats of course if you can stop before you crash uncontrollably into a three deep line of sunloungers, hang up on the water hose left strewn across the walkway, and tumble headfirst into the cold waters of the alluminated pool. But hey, I was'nt about to try it at 06.20am anyway, I needed sleep.
Wandering down through the streets towards the bustle of the beach front, I was continuing to search for skate spots. I found a few - how about a black granite shopfront floor? You could ride smooth over that, and ollie easily across the broken pavement into...oh, the cobbled road which looked rougher than a hookers gusset on Saturday night! No, that's no good.
What about the split level marble floor outside some local shops, at least 30 feet wide, and 100 feet long, split in half by three steps and an invalid ramp, a kicker - also in marble? - absolutely brilliant! You could take a smooth run up, fly up and out of the kicker, and maybe try a backside heelflip, or a kickflip....oh bollocks, straight into the overhanging phone box placed directly at head level. Damn, thats no good either, you would decapitate yourself for sure! Or worse, maybe even die! Well at least the three steps are there, with plenty of run up, a sweet frontflip would go down a treat here....ah for f**ks sake, straight into the Turkish locals sitting outside their shops smoking L&M and drinking apple tea, the two rough stray dogs exploring eachothers ringpieces, and would you believe it, they are open 24/7, so you cant even return in the dead of night to skate this spot, because the hairy Turks and thier canine companions, equally as hairy, will still be here, in the way, and looking rather irritated at the noisy clack of a skateboarder ruining their tranquility.
What about the main shopping centre - smooth red cobbles, a three set sloping to a six set further along? Totally skateable, run off space is actually good here too, and all seems well. Except for the mightily pissed off looking Security Guard lurking menacingly by the doors into the place. Would you really want to stand there in 100 degree hell, and still find it in yourself to politely ask a skateboarder to piss off, without the urge to extract your baton and assist him with his promptness? No, neither would I! This guy looked really hard. Really really hard. This is not a spot I would even walk past with a board in my hands, let alone with it under the soles of my DC's and attempt a big ollie down the stairs, not with this guy hanging around. Nope, no good.
What about the beach front walkway? Granite marble and cobble combo, stretching as far as the eye can see, which is actually about a mile in reality. Stuff to ollie, smooth lines for flatland tricks, the occasional gap or block to amuse you and your wheelie board. Its only about eight feet wide, to the left a dark and very volcanic looking sandy beach - itself very narrow - and to the right, bars, restaurants, and more bars, pumping out traditional music, and disco tunes synonymous with British tourist places these days. Oh, and did I mention its more packed than a lion tamers shorts? For gods sake, too many people here. And in the evening. And at night. It's non stop. No good.
So with a brutal hangover I go to a traditional Turkish Bath. These words may, as they did with me, counjour up images of a vastly overweight and overly hairy man in a white towel scrubbing and soaping you in a physical manner normally associated with kneading dough, or possibly tenderising a steak, except without the additional spiked hammer kitchen utensil of course, whilst you lay uncomfortably on a huge and very skateable slab of marble, sweating your bollocks off. From the lack of information I had exposed myself to, regarding the traditional Turkish Bath, I did not blame myself for immediately assuming that this was common practice. I certainly did not blame myself for assuming this when a rather overweight and hairy man appeared in a white towel and soaped and scrubbed me in a physical manner normally associated with the preparation of dough, or meat tenderisation, whilst I layed on a tremendously skateable slab of marble and sweated my bollocks off.
It was a good experience, although some may say a little...how can i put it...gay? Joking aside, it was good for the mind, good for the body too, as was my sauna, steam room and 25 minute oil massage afterwards. Bliss. And as the masseur carefully untied my achilles tendons from my feet and strapped them around my ears, snapped the lower portion of my spine skillfully backwards and inserted it into my neck, and shattered quite poetically my shoulder blades, I thought of..well I actually thought of a skating session I had a few weeks previous to this moment, where I actually managed a hefty trick, but hurt myself in the process of trying, the masseur draining the remaining pain out of my heels...........zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.........
So sunbathing is boring right? f*****g unbelievably boring right? Jesus, I've read this copy of Document magazine twice already and it's only 2pm, I've learnt that Deathbox Skateboards relocated themselves to the USA, rebranded themselves and became Flip Skateboards, I've learnt that the Blueprint skater Vaughan Baker hates rails, and that a pair of green and white Lakai Marc Johnson signature shoes are about £60. I've learnt that no matter which way you look at it, the bar area and poolside steps are not going to magically become empty and skateable, and even if they were, no tricks could be landed down them anyway, due to the pool filter manhole cover and mesh right in the way of the possible line, lieing in wait to hang you up, and throw you to the floor onto your elbow. I've also learnt that I hate sitting in the sun, so off I f**k, alone, to search for cool things and skate spots, camera in rucksack and a 2 litre bottle of water, and a brisk scoot down some dodgy busy road, avoiding the hassling bar and restaurant owners flinging themselves at every available tourist with a pulse, in an attempt to coax them inside and feed them kebabs for a fiver. Two cigarettes later I found an old and rather spectacular amphitheatre.
The ticket office was closed, and the information board was in (gasp!) Turkish, so I could'nt find out when this place was built or anything. But f**k that for a second. It is basically a huge semi-circle of stair sets stacked up and up and up, all skateable, with flatland about 6 feet wide between each set so you could take a good run up and go in at an angle frontside or backside, and curved blocks - ideal for actually staying on during a nose/tailslide. There were lines everywhere, catering for regular, goofy and switch skaters alike. The stage area was super smooth cement, with a good 4 foot drop-off to ollie down, or if you are more advanced a skater, maybe a McTwist, or a Cannonball!!. The floor was made of approx 10" sized stone squares, but was really smooth, even with the sketchy grouting between each tile, seemingly slapped in as an afterthought. This place was unreal!
Remember earlier I said that I like finding spots that are absurd in their gnarlyness and just thinking about trying anything on it would end in death, yet we all do it - stand there and think, "yeah, if I could get up on that, I could 5-0 that easy!".
Well, the roll-in on Danny Ways section on the DC video is the most insane thing Ive seen attempted on a skateboard. That ramp and roll-in would just eat me immediately. Kids In Emerica shows Tosh Townend b/s bluntsliding a concrete hubba down about 15 stairs, which in the words of Andrew Reynolds was "amaaaaaaaazzzzzing!". That is a big hubba. F**king scary stuff dudes, right?? Check this - in this vast cavernous amphitheatre, a 43 step hubba!!! Yes, forty-three steps boyos, and the hubba made of smooth stone, about 3 feet tall, over one side of it is a good 70 foot tumble to your death onto more stone - fook!! But the more I looked at it the more I said to myself, "yeah, if I could get up on that, I could f/s noseslide that easy!!". I could'nt of course, this hubba was fat, utterly fat, but strangely I knew theres someone out there who could do it, and I would have paid good money to see it.
This was by far and away the best spot I had found on the trip so far, unbelievably skateable, and quite an inspiring place to be, but for one thing - the heat. If it was 100 degrees I would not have been suprised. Too hot to skate. Any attempted tricks by myself surely would have begun with an enthusiastic push, rolling through the hot air, my unbuttoned shirt flapping behind me, sweat drizzling down my forehead, eagerly setting my feet up, readying for the trick, and then promptly fainting with heat exhaustion and dehydration. Too hot. Damn hot.
My eagerness to skate, particularly after finding the amphitheatre, harried me to find more places, even though I knew during the day it would be too hot. The amphitheatre would be superb in early evening when the temperature was more agreeable and less violating, but they hold concerts there most evenings, so it would be all down to luck if I actually managed to skate it. As with the other few places I found.
The boat trip out of Marmaris, along the turquise and white coast-line to Ichmala and around the islands, included more spectacular scenery for me to gorp at. Rolling mountains, dusty and rocky as hell, yet contradicted by being topped with lush woodland right up to the peaks. The sea water, a gorgeous middle-blue, flecked with turquoise and white, and topped by a billion silver flecks as far as the eye can see. Saltier than a northerners' chip butty and colder than a polar bears balls, the four "swim breaks" saw the boat anchored up, and a few brave passengers dip their toes into the water and immediately reach for their towels. I am not too keen on entering the ocean for fun, the mysteriousness of what lies beneath makes me nervous and to be quite frank, I would rather not.
What has this got to do with skate spots? Well, the boat crew - dressed as pirates - would lower
a "gangplank" into the water so that the passengers brave enough to swim, could wander down the six wooden steps, two nice wooden handrails flanking them, and into the water. As I watched from the top deck I daydreamed about how much fun it would be to take a big run up, and go for a boardslide down the rail and into the water, dive down into the shallow waters to retrieve your board, and try again. I imagined a huge cannonball off the back of the boat, a 5-0 on the rail, and attempts to 360 ollie before the cold but beautiful waters come up at you. So much fun could be had with a simple 8 foot drop-off into a clear sea and a small wooden shaped plank with four wheels bolted to it. I thought of beers, barbeques, friends and spending all day in the sun trying that elusive triple kickflip indy grab off the back of an eighty foot boat, with a beer buzz and a huge grin on my face, and landing harmlessly into the Aegean Sea......fantastic!
Back at the harbour we had to wait ten minutes for the coach to take us back to the apartments. Whilst waiting I noticed a foot high cement wall, smooth as silk, but with a dodgy run up that smelt of engine oil and piss, so it would have been ideal for grinds if you like the pungeant type of 50-50.
A twenty minute coach ride through the dusty streets would surely open up more spots. But to be honest, I saw nothing.
There really is nothing for the average skateboarder to shred out here, let alone a beginner who as we all know, craves a flat smooth surface to get all sketchy learning on. At least the more intermediate riders amongst us could cope with a rough edge, a bumpy rail or a gritty surface. But this country takes the biscuit! Every seemingly smooth surface is annihilated by some rude additional obstacles, way too rough, or too spikey to skate. Every pavement is smashed and buckled from constant pounding feet. Every road is either broken and pot-holes, wet from sprinklers, or clogged with traffic. Every posh marble structure is protected by batonned security guards, or machine gun wealding Policemen with borderline heatstroke and a severe lack of patience for anything, let alone skaters.
Summarising this overly long and drawn out article is easy. All I really have to say is that Marmaris in Turkey is rubbish as far as skateboarding is concerned. Aside from the Amphitheatre, I found nothing that would warrant going through the hassle, stress and worry of taking your wheelie board in a plane up to -56 degrees centigrade, and to 35,000 feet, just on the off-chance that it will appear in Luggage Reclaim the other end still with all its laminates stuck together, and still in the same shape as it was in Gatwick Airport. Nope, dont bother.
It is a phenominal country to visit, and I will return for sure, maybe doing a few things a bit differently from the way I did things this time around.
Frustrated as I was here, it would have been even more frustrating if I actually had my skateboard with me in Turkey. I chose not to bother cramming it into my suitcase. I am glad I made that choice, but glad I saw another part of the world in all it's glory.
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So, as you all know, I have just had the opportunity to go abroad for the first time in about three years. Rhodes with a girlfriend - now ex of course - was the last place I went, Hamburg before that with my old band to play a gig, but this time I went to Turkey .
Turkey, out in the Eastern Mediterranean is a quite wonderful country, although I only saw Marmaris, a small town on the South West coast, typically catering for English tourists, but a beautiful place none the less - very mountainous, very hot, very dusty, and particularly friendly, so my assumption that it's a wonderful country is only based on what I have seen. The rest of Turkey might be a hovell for all I know, full of knife-wealding Galatasari football fans ready to stab you for wearing a Spurs shirt, gun-wealding maniacs and drug lords all waiting to pounce on any unsuspecting English dude that entered their 'hood, or even looked in the wrong direction. But to be fair, thats just being silly! You never really know though! But from my experiences, it is certainly the friendliest and most welcoming country I have seen yet.
Being the skateboarder that I am, I am continuously looking for skateable terrain, new spots and things that are just absurd - the sort of thing you would see Danny Way crook-grinding in some brilliantly produced skate video - you know what I mean? So here is my account of the potential that the country of Turkey has for amusing skateboarders such as ourselves.
Gatwick Airport, nestling precariously on the edge of the M25 bordering West Sussex, is a wonderful place to skate - it's like something from Playstations Tony Hawks Pro Skater 3 game, the Airport level of course - yet the marble floor and huge ledges, stairs, escalators and chrome rails can only realistically be resigned to the computer game - actually busting a trick down any of Gatwicks' obstacles would be just as unrealistic as the aforementioned game itself, and after a bail down a 30 stair escalator having screwed up your footing during a bluntslide, you most certainly would not get up, magestically jump back on your board as the game characters do, and triple kickflip a free standing bench for 1000 points, much as my imagination lead me to believe was possible, it most certainly is not, but thinking about it kept me amused whilst I waited in Departure for my flight to start boarding.
A four hour flight on a Boeing 767 to Dalaman Airport in Turkey is not the best journey as far as inspiration for skateboarding goes. You know what planes are like - cramped, claustrophobic, cold, and rather scary - I hate flying, and unfortunately there is nothing I can say about the flight that had anything to do with skating, so I will end the flight details here, although the thoughts I had about one of the brunette air hostesses was just as extreme as skateboarding is!
Dalaman Airport, in the West of Turkey. 3am. Im painfully tired, yet coming through passport control and out into the car park I am greeted by a super huge car park, with mellow curbs, platforms, and ledges, which briefly gives me a wake up call, alerting my senses to the possibiities of a skate. But on closer inspection alas - the tarmac is not tarmac, its concrete - rough concrete. F**king rough concrete in fact. The chances of rolling on this stuff is nigh-on impossible. The curbs, all broken and chipped, no good at all. I slope back behind my eyelids and continue to crave a hot meal, a cold beer and a cool bed.
The roads out of the airport are bumpy as hell. Do they actually have tarmac here? The answer to that is no - its such a brutally hot country that throughout most of the year that any tarmac would just melt in the heat, causing confused Turks in their tinted-windowed, left hand drive Fiats and Lancias, fat truckers in their scary deisel monsters, coach drivers in their air conditioned white buses, tourists in rented Suzuki jeeps, and young whippasnappers on thier 50cc Honda scooters, to become stuck, and slowly, very slowly, begin to submerge beneath the bitumen, eventually leaving only their foreheads and aerials peering up from below the surface of the black soup. A comical image for certain, but not ideal, and as for the principals of road building in high temperatures - well, smooth and skateable tarmac is right out the window. So, concrete cobbles are laid to make the roads, but due to the relentless battering from the Mediterranean traffic, driven with absolutely no care or attention, or possibly without tyres, or even a driver, these roads are pitted, broken, buckled and about as smooth and skateable as a typically British land fill site in mid winter.
The coach journey is about an hour and a half long from the airport to the apartments. In the dead of night the roads are empty, only a few solitary trucks and the odd van pass us in the pitch blackness. Its a rocky old place this, the short wheelbased coach flying around seemingly uncontrollably on the road, like one of the lesser vehicles obtained in Nintendo Mario Cart games, and the darkness is only spoilt only by the occasional closed yet still alluminated pub, petrol station or shop flashing past. Theres nothing here man, nothing.
The drive down through the mountains into Marmaris is a steep and scary one. Remember the final scene from the Italian Job? Well if I thought of that scene once, I thought of it a hundred times! Hairpin bend after hairpin bend. The driver took them all at speed, clearly thinking - unrealistically I might add - that scratching his head and driving one handed whilst whistling an out of tune traditional Turkish mating song, and looking entirely in the wrong direction throughout the entirity of these bends, would ease the nervous dispositions that all 20 passengers were rapidly acquiring, somehow indirectly telling us he was in total control.
It did not have the desired effect - we were all scared sh*tless.
On arrival at Green Park Apartments the first thing I thought of was the marble slope, the three marble steps down into the pool area, and the rail running a mellow line down the side of these steps, with the disabled slope adjacent, also in marble - totally skateable man, awesome - thats of course if you can stop before you crash uncontrollably into a three deep line of sunloungers, hang up on the water hose left strewn across the walkway, and tumble headfirst into the cold waters of the alluminated pool. But hey, I was'nt about to try it at 06.20am anyway, I needed sleep.
Wandering down through the streets towards the bustle of the beach front, I was continuing to search for skate spots. I found a few - how about a black granite shopfront floor? You could ride smooth over that, and ollie easily across the broken pavement into...oh, the cobbled road which looked rougher than a hookers gusset on Saturday night! No, that's no good.
What about the split level marble floor outside some local shops, at least 30 feet wide, and 100 feet long, split in half by three steps and an invalid ramp, a kicker - also in marble? - absolutely brilliant! You could take a smooth run up, fly up and out of the kicker, and maybe try a backside heelflip, or a kickflip....oh bollocks, straight into the overhanging phone box placed directly at head level. Damn, thats no good either, you would decapitate yourself for sure! Or worse, maybe even die! Well at least the three steps are there, with plenty of run up, a sweet frontflip would go down a treat here....ah for f**ks sake, straight into the Turkish locals sitting outside their shops smoking L&M and drinking apple tea, the two rough stray dogs exploring eachothers ringpieces, and would you believe it, they are open 24/7, so you cant even return in the dead of night to skate this spot, because the hairy Turks and thier canine companions, equally as hairy, will still be here, in the way, and looking rather irritated at the noisy clack of a skateboarder ruining their tranquility.
What about the main shopping centre - smooth red cobbles, a three set sloping to a six set further along? Totally skateable, run off space is actually good here too, and all seems well. Except for the mightily pissed off looking Security Guard lurking menacingly by the doors into the place. Would you really want to stand there in 100 degree hell, and still find it in yourself to politely ask a skateboarder to piss off, without the urge to extract your baton and assist him with his promptness? No, neither would I! This guy looked really hard. Really really hard. This is not a spot I would even walk past with a board in my hands, let alone with it under the soles of my DC's and attempt a big ollie down the stairs, not with this guy hanging around. Nope, no good.
What about the beach front walkway? Granite marble and cobble combo, stretching as far as the eye can see, which is actually about a mile in reality. Stuff to ollie, smooth lines for flatland tricks, the occasional gap or block to amuse you and your wheelie board. Its only about eight feet wide, to the left a dark and very volcanic looking sandy beach - itself very narrow - and to the right, bars, restaurants, and more bars, pumping out traditional music, and disco tunes synonymous with British tourist places these days. Oh, and did I mention its more packed than a lion tamers shorts? For gods sake, too many people here. And in the evening. And at night. It's non stop. No good.
So with a brutal hangover I go to a traditional Turkish Bath. These words may, as they did with me, counjour up images of a vastly overweight and overly hairy man in a white towel scrubbing and soaping you in a physical manner normally associated with kneading dough, or possibly tenderising a steak, except without the additional spiked hammer kitchen utensil of course, whilst you lay uncomfortably on a huge and very skateable slab of marble, sweating your bollocks off. From the lack of information I had exposed myself to, regarding the traditional Turkish Bath, I did not blame myself for immediately assuming that this was common practice. I certainly did not blame myself for assuming this when a rather overweight and hairy man appeared in a white towel and soaped and scrubbed me in a physical manner normally associated with the preparation of dough, or meat tenderisation, whilst I layed on a tremendously skateable slab of marble and sweated my bollocks off.
It was a good experience, although some may say a little...how can i put it...gay? Joking aside, it was good for the mind, good for the body too, as was my sauna, steam room and 25 minute oil massage afterwards. Bliss. And as the masseur carefully untied my achilles tendons from my feet and strapped them around my ears, snapped the lower portion of my spine skillfully backwards and inserted it into my neck, and shattered quite poetically my shoulder blades, I thought of..well I actually thought of a skating session I had a few weeks previous to this moment, where I actually managed a hefty trick, but hurt myself in the process of trying, the masseur draining the remaining pain out of my heels...........zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.........
So sunbathing is boring right? f*****g unbelievably boring right? Jesus, I've read this copy of Document magazine twice already and it's only 2pm, I've learnt that Deathbox Skateboards relocated themselves to the USA, rebranded themselves and became Flip Skateboards, I've learnt that the Blueprint skater Vaughan Baker hates rails, and that a pair of green and white Lakai Marc Johnson signature shoes are about £60. I've learnt that no matter which way you look at it, the bar area and poolside steps are not going to magically become empty and skateable, and even if they were, no tricks could be landed down them anyway, due to the pool filter manhole cover and mesh right in the way of the possible line, lieing in wait to hang you up, and throw you to the floor onto your elbow. I've also learnt that I hate sitting in the sun, so off I f**k, alone, to search for cool things and skate spots, camera in rucksack and a 2 litre bottle of water, and a brisk scoot down some dodgy busy road, avoiding the hassling bar and restaurant owners flinging themselves at every available tourist with a pulse, in an attempt to coax them inside and feed them kebabs for a fiver. Two cigarettes later I found an old and rather spectacular amphitheatre.
The ticket office was closed, and the information board was in (gasp!) Turkish, so I could'nt find out when this place was built or anything. But f**k that for a second. It is basically a huge semi-circle of stair sets stacked up and up and up, all skateable, with flatland about 6 feet wide between each set so you could take a good run up and go in at an angle frontside or backside, and curved blocks - ideal for actually staying on during a nose/tailslide. There were lines everywhere, catering for regular, goofy and switch skaters alike. The stage area was super smooth cement, with a good 4 foot drop-off to ollie down, or if you are more advanced a skater, maybe a McTwist, or a Cannonball!!. The floor was made of approx 10" sized stone squares, but was really smooth, even with the sketchy grouting between each tile, seemingly slapped in as an afterthought. This place was unreal!
Remember earlier I said that I like finding spots that are absurd in their gnarlyness and just thinking about trying anything on it would end in death, yet we all do it - stand there and think, "yeah, if I could get up on that, I could 5-0 that easy!".
Well, the roll-in on Danny Ways section on the DC video is the most insane thing Ive seen attempted on a skateboard. That ramp and roll-in would just eat me immediately. Kids In Emerica shows Tosh Townend b/s bluntsliding a concrete hubba down about 15 stairs, which in the words of Andrew Reynolds was "amaaaaaaaazzzzzing!". That is a big hubba. F**king scary stuff dudes, right?? Check this - in this vast cavernous amphitheatre, a 43 step hubba!!! Yes, forty-three steps boyos, and the hubba made of smooth stone, about 3 feet tall, over one side of it is a good 70 foot tumble to your death onto more stone - fook!! But the more I looked at it the more I said to myself, "yeah, if I could get up on that, I could f/s noseslide that easy!!". I could'nt of course, this hubba was fat, utterly fat, but strangely I knew theres someone out there who could do it, and I would have paid good money to see it.
This was by far and away the best spot I had found on the trip so far, unbelievably skateable, and quite an inspiring place to be, but for one thing - the heat. If it was 100 degrees I would not have been suprised. Too hot to skate. Any attempted tricks by myself surely would have begun with an enthusiastic push, rolling through the hot air, my unbuttoned shirt flapping behind me, sweat drizzling down my forehead, eagerly setting my feet up, readying for the trick, and then promptly fainting with heat exhaustion and dehydration. Too hot. Damn hot.
My eagerness to skate, particularly after finding the amphitheatre, harried me to find more places, even though I knew during the day it would be too hot. The amphitheatre would be superb in early evening when the temperature was more agreeable and less violating, but they hold concerts there most evenings, so it would be all down to luck if I actually managed to skate it. As with the other few places I found.
The boat trip out of Marmaris, along the turquise and white coast-line to Ichmala and around the islands, included more spectacular scenery for me to gorp at. Rolling mountains, dusty and rocky as hell, yet contradicted by being topped with lush woodland right up to the peaks. The sea water, a gorgeous middle-blue, flecked with turquoise and white, and topped by a billion silver flecks as far as the eye can see. Saltier than a northerners' chip butty and colder than a polar bears balls, the four "swim breaks" saw the boat anchored up, and a few brave passengers dip their toes into the water and immediately reach for their towels. I am not too keen on entering the ocean for fun, the mysteriousness of what lies beneath makes me nervous and to be quite frank, I would rather not.
What has this got to do with skate spots? Well, the boat crew - dressed as pirates - would lower
a "gangplank" into the water so that the passengers brave enough to swim, could wander down the six wooden steps, two nice wooden handrails flanking them, and into the water. As I watched from the top deck I daydreamed about how much fun it would be to take a big run up, and go for a boardslide down the rail and into the water, dive down into the shallow waters to retrieve your board, and try again. I imagined a huge cannonball off the back of the boat, a 5-0 on the rail, and attempts to 360 ollie before the cold but beautiful waters come up at you. So much fun could be had with a simple 8 foot drop-off into a clear sea and a small wooden shaped plank with four wheels bolted to it. I thought of beers, barbeques, friends and spending all day in the sun trying that elusive triple kickflip indy grab off the back of an eighty foot boat, with a beer buzz and a huge grin on my face, and landing harmlessly into the Aegean Sea......fantastic!
Back at the harbour we had to wait ten minutes for the coach to take us back to the apartments. Whilst waiting I noticed a foot high cement wall, smooth as silk, but with a dodgy run up that smelt of engine oil and piss, so it would have been ideal for grinds if you like the pungeant type of 50-50.
A twenty minute coach ride through the dusty streets would surely open up more spots. But to be honest, I saw nothing.
There really is nothing for the average skateboarder to shred out here, let alone a beginner who as we all know, craves a flat smooth surface to get all sketchy learning on. At least the more intermediate riders amongst us could cope with a rough edge, a bumpy rail or a gritty surface. But this country takes the biscuit! Every seemingly smooth surface is annihilated by some rude additional obstacles, way too rough, or too spikey to skate. Every pavement is smashed and buckled from constant pounding feet. Every road is either broken and pot-holes, wet from sprinklers, or clogged with traffic. Every posh marble structure is protected by batonned security guards, or machine gun wealding Policemen with borderline heatstroke and a severe lack of patience for anything, let alone skaters.
Summarising this overly long and drawn out article is easy. All I really have to say is that Marmaris in Turkey is rubbish as far as skateboarding is concerned. Aside from the Amphitheatre, I found nothing that would warrant going through the hassle, stress and worry of taking your wheelie board in a plane up to -56 degrees centigrade, and to 35,000 feet, just on the off-chance that it will appear in Luggage Reclaim the other end still with all its laminates stuck together, and still in the same shape as it was in Gatwick Airport. Nope, dont bother.
It is a phenominal country to visit, and I will return for sure, maybe doing a few things a bit differently from the way I did things this time around.
Frustrated as I was here, it would have been even more frustrating if I actually had my skateboard with me in Turkey. I chose not to bother cramming it into my suitcase. I am glad I made that choice, but glad I saw another part of the world in all it's glory.
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Comments:
Comment by Dave
Haha, I know what you mean man, Same thing happened when we were on the way to our resort in France, and the same again in Italy! it is quite scary, you're looking out of the front window of the bus and thinking "holy s***, we're definitely over the edge.... oh no, there's the road again.... holy s***, now we're definitely over the edge!.... oh no, there's the road" etc etc.
Excellent write up my good man, and perfectly done from a skateboarders point of view, you barely went off track, which I think is brilliant, as when i'm writing long articles, i'll change the original point of it so many times that it just ends up as a big piss take!
Cheers for read, and do you have pictures of this 43 stair hubba!? Or any pictures at all? If you need any help with re-sizing/hosting or whatever, just blast me an e-mail man.
The G Man wrote: wrote:The driver took them all at speed, clearly thinking - unrealistically I might add - that scratching his head and driving one handed whilst whistling an out of tune traditional Turkish mating song, and looking entirely in the wrong direction throughout the entirity of these bends, would ease the nervous dispositions that all 20 passengers were rapidly acquiring, somehow indirectly telling us he was in total control.
It did not have the desired effect - we were all scared sh*tless
Haha, I know what you mean man, Same thing happened when we were on the way to our resort in France, and the same again in Italy! it is quite scary, you're looking out of the front window of the bus and thinking "holy s***, we're definitely over the edge.... oh no, there's the road again.... holy s***, now we're definitely over the edge!.... oh no, there's the road" etc etc.
Excellent write up my good man, and perfectly done from a skateboarders point of view, you barely went off track, which I think is brilliant, as when i'm writing long articles, i'll change the original point of it so many times that it just ends up as a big piss take!
Cheers for read, and do you have pictures of this 43 stair hubba!? Or any pictures at all? If you need any help with re-sizing/hosting or whatever, just blast me an e-mail man.
Comment by GLayzenby
Thanks guys, I admit it could have been a better article but hey, I tried, and thanks again.
Dave - yeah I took two pics of the hubba - with you guys in mind I might add - so once I have scanned it in, I will email it to you - appreciate the offer buddy, will try and get it done this weekend mate.
Being a budding photographer, I took a lot of panorama shots - for those of you who dont know what I mean, a panorama in this case, is a landscape view and I pan across with my camera from left to right shooting quickly, then when I got the pics back from the developers, I peiced them together to form a larger photograph out of maybe ten shots - sometimes it never lines up but with a bit of fannying around a great result can be achieved. The amphitheatre was particularly good because I shot from the centre point and at the highest point, and as the subject, in this case a semi-circular amphitheatre, it did not disrupt the perspective - so essentially I have ten photos that make up one big pan. It looks great, and if me and my dad can set them up in photoshop and create one jpeg of the panorama, I will send that to you too.
Dave - yeah I took two pics of the hubba - with you guys in mind I might add - so once I have scanned it in, I will email it to you - appreciate the offer buddy, will try and get it done this weekend mate.
Being a budding photographer, I took a lot of panorama shots - for those of you who dont know what I mean, a panorama in this case, is a landscape view and I pan across with my camera from left to right shooting quickly, then when I got the pics back from the developers, I peiced them together to form a larger photograph out of maybe ten shots - sometimes it never lines up but with a bit of fannying around a great result can be achieved. The amphitheatre was particularly good because I shot from the centre point and at the highest point, and as the subject, in this case a semi-circular amphitheatre, it did not disrupt the perspective - so essentially I have ten photos that make up one big pan. It looks great, and if me and my dad can set them up in photoshop and create one jpeg of the panorama, I will send that to you too.
Comment by Philly
Man, I wish I had the energy to write an article like that about my trips, but I really am far too lazy. I'm very jealous, I really am, because right there you've got a memory forever, something you can read over and over again, enjoying it, remembering, and thanks for sharing it with us so that we can read and enjoy it with you.
I got to ask though, that "43 set hubba" you found, did you stand and count them? Or did you walk up each step counting?
And then, did you write it down in a little note book?
If so, that's awesome, you rule, i'd of stood there and though - "Yeh, that's about 40 steps, i'll say 43 though"... that's even if I got to a point of writing something like this.
As awesome as skateboarding is, if you took it on a holiday with you, I think it would ruin the holiday. You would be so excited about skating somewhere you have never skated before, you would spend all your holiday trying to nail a new trick in a new place down some new steps. Instead, you should go on holiday to get away from everything, do something different, and see the world.
Top Stuff G Man, I'll admit I have "forgotten" about article's and trick trips recently, but I am making the effort to go back and read some now.
I got to ask though, that "43 set hubba" you found, did you stand and count them? Or did you walk up each step counting?
And then, did you write it down in a little note book?
If so, that's awesome, you rule, i'd of stood there and though - "Yeh, that's about 40 steps, i'll say 43 though"... that's even if I got to a point of writing something like this.
As awesome as skateboarding is, if you took it on a holiday with you, I think it would ruin the holiday. You would be so excited about skating somewhere you have never skated before, you would spend all your holiday trying to nail a new trick in a new place down some new steps. Instead, you should go on holiday to get away from everything, do something different, and see the world.
Top Stuff G Man, I'll admit I have "forgotten" about article's and trick trips recently, but I am making the effort to go back and read some now.
Comment by GLayzenby
Thanks Philly!
Yeah, I saw the hubba, and walked up the stairs counting as I went. I then got a permanent pen out of my rucksack and wrote 43 on the inside label, cos my memory is shot to s*** most days!
Also, I have the photo of it, but my scanner is busted. I believe if I filter the flash, I can take a digital photo of my photo, and post the sumbitch up here at last - an amazing hubba I must say!! If the ISP have done their job when I get home, I shall do that today. Watch this space...
.....
Right then peeps, Mr Layzenby has sworn, sweated and drawn blood for this, in the name of eryc I present thee with thine holy pictures of the 43 stair hubba. Now, apologies for the low quality of shots, but as I may have said before, I took these with my camera, had the photos developed at Boots, and these are digital camera photos of those photos, so please ignore the flash of the digicam in the reflection of the glossy photopaper.
The amphitheatre, as described in the article, and as taken by my good self with eight exposures. Once I had them developed, I peiced them together, as you can see it never lines up perfectly, but you get the jist.....
And here is the b*****d hubba from hell, 43 motherfucking steps from top to bottom.....
...and a shot from the bottom......
and a shot of the one directly opposite, still 43 stairs, but a bit chipped and f****d, so not as doable as the other one. But you kinda get the whole feel for it, ie being huge and f**k scary!!
So there you go, hope they came out ok for you all, and hope you found the article and the photos interesting.
Yeah, I saw the hubba, and walked up the stairs counting as I went. I then got a permanent pen out of my rucksack and wrote 43 on the inside label, cos my memory is shot to s*** most days!
Also, I have the photo of it, but my scanner is busted. I believe if I filter the flash, I can take a digital photo of my photo, and post the sumbitch up here at last - an amazing hubba I must say!! If the ISP have done their job when I get home, I shall do that today. Watch this space...
.....
Right then peeps, Mr Layzenby has sworn, sweated and drawn blood for this, in the name of eryc I present thee with thine holy pictures of the 43 stair hubba. Now, apologies for the low quality of shots, but as I may have said before, I took these with my camera, had the photos developed at Boots, and these are digital camera photos of those photos, so please ignore the flash of the digicam in the reflection of the glossy photopaper.
The amphitheatre, as described in the article, and as taken by my good self with eight exposures. Once I had them developed, I peiced them together, as you can see it never lines up perfectly, but you get the jist.....
And here is the b*****d hubba from hell, 43 motherfucking steps from top to bottom.....
...and a shot from the bottom......
and a shot of the one directly opposite, still 43 stairs, but a bit chipped and f****d, so not as doable as the other one. But you kinda get the whole feel for it, ie being huge and f**k scary!!
So there you go, hope they came out ok for you all, and hope you found the article and the photos interesting.
Comment by kendallguy
s*** man, thats some scary stuff there. Mr Boulala, please can you don your hat and hit that hubba!
Comment by Philly
By the way, I will be updating this article a few more times to add some more pics. Nothing major, just some nice pics to look at. Here are two more for you, seeing as my scanner was working for ten minutes earlier.
From the top of the amphitheatre I crouched inside a cockroach, lizard and spider infested archway to get this sho - the demon hubba showing its face again....
and here is your resident Layzenby giving it the large on a boat trip around the coast..... not looking particularly happy in this, but hey, check the Habitat tee and DC hat - what a corporate logo whore.....
From the top of the amphitheatre I crouched inside a cockroach, lizard and spider infested archway to get this sho - the demon hubba showing its face again....
and here is your resident Layzenby giving it the large on a boat trip around the coast..... not looking particularly happy in this, but hey, check the Habitat tee and DC hat - what a corporate logo whore.....
