But I Am Here Now

I was sitting outside my hotel having some wine when the manager came back from running an errand. He sat down and asked me about my plans for the next day. I told him that I was going from Pamukkale to Goreme and had decided to fly there because it was cheaper and would take less time. He asked what time I was to leave in the morning, and I said 6:45, to which he responded, ”this makes no sense”.

“You leave at 6:45 in the morning to take the one hour shuttle to the airport to fly to Istanbul. You have a layover before changing planes. You fly into Kayseri and then catch a one hour shuttle to arrive at Goreme at 5:30. If you took the bus, you would leave one hour later from right here and arrive in Goreme directly at 4:30.” I had to concede he was right, and I’d cost myself an extra $25 flying.

 

The next morning I was awoken by a knock on my door from the hotel manager who informed me that the shuttle driver was here. I replied from my side of the door that the shuttle was not due for another hour, but he asked me to come down and speak with the driver. I put on a pair of pants, pulled a t-shirt over my head and padded downstairs in my bare feet.

 

When I got to the lobby, the shuttle driver was waiting there with his running vehicle parked outside the door. I showed the shuttle driver that the time on my ticket was 6:45, and indicated that it was currently 5:45, to which he replied, “but I am here now.”

 

I told him he’d either have to come back in an hour or wait about 20 minutes for me to be ready. He headed outside in a huff, and the manager said that he would wait. At this point, I should share the discussion that was had with the tour guide the day before. She was surprised that we were all ready on time, explaining that Turkey had not switched to standard time last Sunday like the rest of the world because of its national elections. This had thrown Turkey into a state of confusion because all of the phones set to auto update had moved backwards anyway. This information put to rest my confusion as to why the clocks were different wherever I went in Turkey. It also provided an explanation as to why the shuttle driver had arrived an hour early.

 

When I came downstairs with my bag packed and ready to go, I found the shuttle driver sitting in the lobby having coffee with the hotel manager. The driver asked if I wouldn’t mind if we left in a couple minutes while he finished his coffee so I sat down and joined them. He apologized for waking me up so early and confirmed that his phone had reset itself, and that we would leave at 6:30. At 6:20, he asks “are you ready to go now?”. I replied “you told me 6:30” to which he replied “But I am ready now. Finish your coffee.¨

 

As the van left town, I wondered whether we were going to be early for the connecting airport bus. I had feared being left on a deserted highway in the middle of Turkey to flag down an airport bus in the dark. Additionally, I had already paid for the entire trip to the airport when I made the booking but had concerns about how this would be communicated to the airport bus driver. What I expected to happen was the first driver to leave, and the connecting driver to tell me he had not received any payment. I was pleasantly surprised, however, when my shuttle driver let me sit in the warm shuttle as we waited for the transfer bus.

 

When the airport bus arrived, my driver paid for my transfer, and I headed on board to find a completely packed bus. I took my seat on the floor for the one hour trip to the airport and realized that if I had caught the intercity bus instead of taking the plane, I would still be in bed right now.