TURKEY:Turkey reminds many of Ireland in the 1950s: poor but friendly, centred on church, pub . . . and shrine, writes Lara Marlowein Kusadasi.
Irish affection for Turkey is based on sun, friendship, food and drink, property, religion and sex. In other words, life.
The first Irish charters began flying into Izmir, on the western Aegean coast, about 1990. "It was almost by accident that Kusadasi became the favourite of the Irish," says hotel-owner Seamus Glynn. "Now the Irish are the lifeblood of Kusadasi."
There are a few dozen Irish diplomats, business people and nuns living in Ankara and Istanbul, and some have discovered the Mediterranean resorts. But the west coast, whose "clearest sky and best possible climate" were praised in antiquity by Herodotus, is the principal magnet for the Irish.
Though few live here year round, thousands have holiday homes. Many more return time and again on package holidays.
Before he moved to Turkey six years ago, Glynn was the managing director of Sunworld, a Turkish holiday specialist. He owns three hotels with Turkish partners in Kusadasi (the Palmin, Sea Pearl and Sunset Plaza). Glynn estimates 55,000 Irish come to Turkey each year, of whom 30,000 visit Kusadasi and 15,000 stay in his hotels.
"There seems to be a kindred spirit between the Irish and Turkey," Glynn says. "We're very alike in our approach to life. For me, living here is so like growing up in Co Clare. People are friendly, neighbourly. There's poverty similar to Ireland in the late 1950s."
Maria Joyce, from Fairview, Dublin, was a beauty consultant at Harrod's when she came to Bodrum, two hours south of Kusadasi, on holiday in 1990. She met and fell in love with Feridun Ozsert, who then ran a bar called the Queen Vic. Ozsert is a dual Irish-Turkish citizen now, and his bar is called Murphy's. He is also the mukhtar (mayor) of Gumbet, the seaside area of Bodrum. There is probably no other Muslim country where a bar owner who confesses to a fondness for Jameson's and allows his sons to be raised Catholic could hold office.
"I am a Muslim, but not practising," Ozsert explains. "In my mind, all religions are the same; it's one address, with different gates." Maria Ozsert calls the modern, tolerant west coast "the new Turkey" and says it feels European "because of the tourism". Across the street from Murphy's, she owns the Anna Livia restaurant.
"When I first came here, I felt like a foreigner. Now I walk around and there are so many Europeans that I never feel alone." Earlier this month, a bomb, probably planted by Kurdish separatists, killed a Turkish man in Izmir. "People are very much aware of terrorism, because every boy in Turkey has to do 18 months' national service," says Mrs Ozsert. "My husband tells me every day how many soldiers were killed... No one has forgotten the Irish girl. It's everyday life now, unfortunately."
Tara Whelan (17), from Co Waterford, was killed with four other people when a minibus blew up here in July 2005.
Cora Brosnan, from Cork, also first visited the Aegean coast in 1990. Four years ago, she gave up her job in Cork to co-found Lighthouse Estate Agency in Kusadasi with a Turkish partner. "The majority of foreigners who live here year-round are English and Dutch," she says. "But every year, there are more and more Irish. We have Irish clients buying property now with the intention of retiring here."
In Glynn's Palmin hotel, there's advertising for holiday villas (from €220,000) and apartments (from €110,000) in the lifts and rooms. But Glynn says "property fever" is subsiding. "Three years ago, you'd overhear guests in the hotel. They wouldn't say, 'have you been to Ephesus yet?' but 'have you bought property yet?'"
Brosnan hasn't returned to Ireland in two years, and doesn't miss it. "The people are phenomenal here," she says. "No matter how busy they are, they take time to sit and have a cup of tea. You know about their children and their families before you talk business."
I met Brosnan at Liam O'Sullivan's 69th birthday party. O'Sullivan left Longford at the age of 15 to become a welder in England. Six years ago, he came to Kusadasi in a wheelchair, suffering from leukaemia. He made a miraculous recovery after praying to the Virgin Mary in the shrine where she is believed to have lived, in the mountains east of Kusadasi.
Today O'Sullivan is the lynchpin of the Irish community. He helps newcomers with logistical problems, and hires Kemal Celik's six-seat taxi every Sunday to ferry Irish and English people to the House of the Blessed Virgin, where Fr Tarcy Mathias says Mass. An Indian Capuchin priest, Fr Mathias is loved by Irish tourists and locals alike. Several Irish people told me they are far more religious here, in the land of the Apostles, than they ever were back home.
Doreen and Tony Kennedy from Walkinstown brought O'Sullivan a bottle of Tullamore Dew for his birthday. O'Sullivan says he has four freezers filled with Irish bacon and sausage that friends have brought for him. He'd met several of the guests at his party in Zac's Bar, downtown Kusadasi, at Mass last week. "That's the only place people meet here," O'Sullivan jokes, "in church or in pubs."O'Sullivan says he is "frightened to go to Ireland at the moment, because it's so expensive. My pension from England is about £750. It goes a long way here; it wouldn't in England, even less so in Ireland."
Irish people here want direct, cheap flights between Dublin and Izmir, the regional hub; an Irish centre in Kusadasi, to help with language difficulties and transport to Mass.
There's a contradiction between the warm, friendly neighbours who water fruit trees for Irish homeowners in their absence, and bring them gifts of food when they're here, and the vendors who hassle you to buy leather, jewellery and property.
"It's a big problem here," admits Glynn. "The authorities are dealing with it. It's not part of Turkish culture. There are too many small businesses chasing too few customers."
Breda and Philip Treacy from Terenure chose not to buy here because they thought they'd never recoup their investment, but they've visited Kusadasi once or twice a year for more than two decades. "The Turkish were wonderful people; they've changed," says Breda. "They've become greedy, like at home," says Philip. "They think they're not going to get into the EU, and that hurts them," Breda adds.
Demand by Europeans has driven property prices up. The neo-Islamist AKP government has raised taxes on alcohol to discourage drinking.
A reputation for excessive drinking and loud behaviour, and perhaps local dependency on Irish money, have created some resentment. Mrs Treacy tells of a Turk who mocked Irish tourists, in an Irish accent, asking: "are you from west Ballymun or Ballyfermot? Are you a knacker?"
