The morning before departure

The sun is streaming through my hotel window, casting long shadows across the room as I sit with my morning coffee. It's 8:00 am, and Pamukkale is already bathed in that particular golden light that makes the white travertine terraces look even more otherworldly.

I've been up since 6:30, methodically packing my belongings and preparing for today's departure. My bus to Antalya leaves this afternoon, and while I'm looking forward to exploring the Turkish coast, there's a wistfulness that comes with leaving this place. Three days here have passed too quickly.

Last night, I sat on my balcony watching the sunset paint the white terraces in shades of amber and rose. I thought about how places like this become part of you somehow - how the mineral-rich waters that have flowed for millennia have, in their own way, left deposits in my memory just as they've created these stunning geological formations.

This morning, I took a final walk along the edge of the terraces. The site wasn't open yet, but the view from the road still offers a panorama that makes you pause. At 7:15, I was the only one at the small bakery down the street, where I bought a simit and cheese for breakfast. The baker smiled in recognition - after just three days, I've become a familiar face.

"Antalya today?" he asked as he handed me the warm bread.

I nodded, and he gave me an extra piece of cheese. "For the journey."

These small kindnesses from strangers have been one of the most consistent gifts of this 173-day journey so far. With 327 days remaining, I wonder how many more such moments await.

Back in my room now, I'm making a mental checklist for the day ahead. My bus doesn't leave until 2:30 pm, so I have time for a leisurely lunch and perhaps one more stroll through the town. The weather forecast promises a beautiful day - already 10°C and climbing toward what looks like a perfectly sunny afternoon.

The weather has been mercurial during my stay - from yesterday's persistent rain to today's clear skies. I'm grateful for this parting gift of sunshine, though there was something magical about seeing the terraces in the rain too, with fewer tourists and the white calcium formations gleaming wet against the gray sky.

I've noticed something about myself on this journey. I count things constantly - days traveled, days remaining, hours until departure, minutes early I arrive places. Perhaps it's a way of creating structure in this otherwise unstructured life I'm currently living. Or maybe it's just how my mind works, always seeking patterns and measurements.

The coffee is finished now, and the room is fully bathed in sunlight. Time to head downstairs, check if any breakfast remains, and begin this day of transition. Antalya awaits, with its ancient harbor and Mediterranean shores. But Pamukkale - with its otherworldly landscape that seems to exist outside of time - will remain with me, another layer in the sediment of experiences that this journey is creating.

173 days down, 327 to go