Don Curry has a problem with Konya

Don Curry has quite an emotional relationship with some cities. He likes some right away, like Lublin or Marrakesh or Pskov or Paris. He likes their special flair, their sights, the feeling of life that can be felt in them, even though it is extremely different in all the mentioned places. But there are also cities that don't trigger any positive emotions in Don Curry, that annoy him, that irritate him, and that he wants to leave quickly. Konya joined these cities today. Don Curry even considered choosing the title 'Don Curry hates Konya' - but that would be a bit exaggerated...

The day started - as secretly hoped for - with a fantastic view over the vastness of Lake Eğirdir in bright sunshine, right from Don Curry's bed. This view even found an enhancement when he climbed up to the rooftop terrace for breakfast. Here, there was another buffet with service, but since the young German woman belonged to the staff, Don Curry saw it as a 'home game' and could finally get advice or ask questions if something was unfamiliar to him. For example, there was a bowl of dried apple slices. Don Curry asked for some and soon realized that he didn't need dried apple slices on his menu. On the other hand, a bread baked with tahini or a kind of nut strudel that tasted particularly good with tea turned out to be delicious. Satisfied, Don Curry left the nice, relaxed guesthouse, looked down on the incomparable location of Eğirdir from a nearby mountain, and then zoomed eastwards towards Konya.

On the way, he was delighted by two detours. First, he drove to a beautifully restored spring sanctuary of the Hittites, around which a small park had been created. Pure idyll! In the nearby town of Beyşehir, Don Curry marveled at one of the oldest wooden mosques from the Seljuk period. Countless dark wooden pillars carried the ornate and colorfully painted ceiling beams of the prayer house like a forest. Once again, a mosque surprised him with its unusual construction.

But now Konya. He reached the city already at late lunchtime, but first went to a suburb where the Byzantine Church of St. Helena had recently been restored. This church also served as a museum and seemed to be a special attraction for school classes. One group of teenagers after another was led in and provided with information, while those who were supposed to listen preferred to take countless photos with their smartphones. An exciting start, Don Curry thought, and drove straight to the city center.

Here, the traffic of the city of millions condensed into a slow stop-and-go, constantly accompanied by infernal honking. So far, the honk had been a very rare part of Turkish traffic culture, but here in the center of Konya, Don Curry experienced the opposite. Finally, he found a large parking lot, but as he approached, a parking attendant signaled: 'Full.' Don Curry felt increasingly annoyed by the senseless waste of time in the constant traffic jam. So he decided to drive directly to his hotel at the Mevlana Monastery. Fortunately, there was an almost empty parking lot right in front of the hotel. Since the reception of the Hich Hotel was not yet occupied, Don Curry simply left his travel bag in the small lobby and set off on foot to explore Konya. However, one thing finally spoiled his mood: the famous green tower of the Mevlana Monastery, THE landmark of Konya, was scaffolded and hidden under an ugly gray plastic sheet. But the potential for annoyance continued to rise. The Mevlana Monastery was overcrowded, even in Pamukkale, Don Curry had not seen such crowds of visitors. The Karatay Madrasa had just closed when he wanted to visit it. After a short return to the hotel, Don Curry was able to check into his nice room; the luggage would be brought up to him soon, promised the woman at the reception. But the luggage did not come. And when Don Curry wanted to attend the performance of the whirling dervishes in the evening, it turned out that the performance had been rescheduled 2 hours earlier. Don Curry was boiling with anger. Of course, things always go wrong when traveling. But in Konya, the individually bearable irritations added up to a negative overall verdict: Konya is annoying!

How fortunate that there were still positive experiences. The ancient Alaaddin Mosque on the settlement hill in the center of Konya delighted Don Curry as a wonderful example of an extensive hall mosque, with some of its pillars clearly of Roman-Byzantine origin. Finally, dinner had the most reconciling effect on Don Curry. Near his hotel, he discovered an almost noble-looking restaurant where he found the city's specialty on the menu. Numerous waiters in black livery stood ready in the restaurant and served at the tables. Don Curry chose a red chicken soup, which had a certain spicy note. Then there was Firin Kebab, the specialty of Konya: lamb meat roasted for hours with Pide bread briefly fried in oil and raw onions. Since there was no alcohol in the restaurant - as almost everywhere in Konya - he ordered Ayran and water. Despite the noble ambience and the huge number of staff, Don Curry ended up paying €7 for food and drinks.

Should he give Konya another chance? Maybe someday. Now he himself dragged his luggage to the room; and then he was looking forward to leaving the city behind tomorrow...