WANDERLUST: Sivrice Deniz Feneri Kütüphanesi (Sivrice Lighthouse Library)

I just read an article about a lighthouse, that’s also a library, that focuses on lighthouses. The Sivrice Deniz Feneri Kütüphanesi (Sivrice Lighthouse Library) is collecting all the books about lighthouses ever published, and it’s publishing some of its own. Amazing.

I’m in love with lighthouses. I grew up sailing on the Connecticut coast, and the slow movement across the water gave me a deep appreciation for the rhythmic sweep of a lighthouse’s beam at night. Reading the light itself and deciphering the symbols on a chart places me and keeps me off the rocks. White, white, white, red, in a thirty second cycle, means I’m looking at New London Ledge Light in the middle of the Thames River. Cross-referencing it with the red flash of Race Rock Lighthouse every ten seconds points me safely down Fishers Island Sound, towards Avery Point and Latimer Reef lights.

Race Rock Lighthouse, Fishers Island Sound, NY

When I’m away from the water, I tend to read about lighthouses: stories of keepers, stories of builders, stories about the Coast Guard selling the houses to private organizations who can maintain the structures. There’s something inspiring about the people who live a harsh and solitary life for the safety of others and those who maintain maritime history.

So now, I want to travel to a cape about halfway between the Dardanelles and Izmir – totally out of the way – to go read books about one of my favorite topics.

When: Summer only – the library is closed in winter
Where: about 10 miles east of Babakale, Turkey
How: Drive about 8.5 hours from Istanbul (via Izmit, Bursa, Balikesir, Edremit) or 5.5 hours north from Izmir along the coast. Bus available to Babakale, ferry ports nearby.

Have you read anything recently that has inspired a new addition to your travel list?

Coffee. I need coffee.

The conductor shakes me awake. “Next stop New London, miss. 5 minutes.” I peer bleary-eyed at my watch and inwardly curse. Delayed in Washington, the train has somehow made up the time overnight, stealing an hour of rest and dropping me in a city that’s still asleep. I have an hour and twenty-six minutes to kill before my ferry leaves at the relatively gentlemanly hour of 7 am. Yawning, I consider my options.

Coffee. I need coffee. I awoke too late to have gotten a cup in the café car in Old Saybrook, and the station itself has nothing more than a few vending machines. I hitch my bags up, turn away from the ferry district’s locked gates, and trudge uphill.

The businesses at the foot of State St. are shuttered, without the neon glow I know from evenings grabbing a pint at Stone Fleet Tavern or a grinder at Captain’s Pizza. I’ve boycotted the Subway on the corner of Bank St. ever since they dropped that southeastern Connecticut term in favor of the blandly generic sub in the early 1990s. I turn left, and the shush of water falling from the whale fluke fountain near the station fades into an eerie quiet a few steps up Bank St.

I’m hoping Muddy Waters, my aunt’s favorite place to grab some wifi over a cup of deep-roasted Arabica, is open. From the back of the café, I could watch the ferry crew arrive with their own steaming mugs, flip on the lights, and pull out the folding chair the reservationist will use. “Lane 2, behind the blue Subaru. Lane 6 for standbys, please.”

Alas, the hand-printed sign indicates Muddy Waters will open at 7. I readjust my increasingly heavy luggage and glance around. The Exchange’s pizza ovens are cool, their live music long gone. They may not serve coffee ever, but they certainly don’t at 5:43 am. Onward, to Bean & Leaf, a few blocks inland.

A single beat-up car can’t hide that the outside tables are stacked, an ill omen. The normally bright colors are washed out in the dawn light, and while I can see the beans in their glass jars, I can’t see a soul. My dream of a creamy, chocolatey, caffeinated Brazilian brew isn’t going to happen til Bean & Leaf opens at 6:30. For about five minutes, I convince myself that pulling my sweater closer will ward off the chill of summer fog as well as coffee would. At 6, I give up.

Nearing the corner of State and Green Sts., I dismiss Mangetout, a vegan joint that won’t open til brunch. Dunkin Donuts, beloved by New Englanders everywhere, is nine or ten blocks farther away from the Thames. I stand, indecisive. The sudden rattle of a muffler shakes me out of my solitary reverie and reminds me that the docks have opened during my silent quest. Conceding defeat, I follow the pick-up downhill. Perhaps what I need is not coffee, but a nap, stretched across a ferry bench.

[Note: Bean & Leaf is now on Bank St, a few blocks down from Muddy Waters. It's still delicious, and it still opens at 6:30. Le sigh.]