The car rental agency that was not there (Marmaris, Turkey)

Our boat ride from Rhodes Town turned out ok. The sea sickness pills did a good job. We asked a taxi driver to takes us the 10 minute ride to the center of town (Marmaris) to pick up our rental car. He assured us he knew where to go but an hour later, we were still roaming Marmaris asking for directions and stopping to call the company or to inquire at other car rental places. The final verdict: the agency did not exist. The inquiry was done by our taxi driver who was hinting he could takes us to Bodrum, 2 and a half hours away by taxi.

On our insistance, he took us to a car rental he knew, where we had to wait for the “boss” to come deal with us. The boss spoke English and made a big show of dialing the numbers we had for our rental car agency. He also declared, it didn’t exist, but he could give us a good deal on a car.

Between the two offers, we decided to go with the taxi driver. It was getting late. With the long ride to Bodrum we were looking at arriving at our hotel around 10:00 pm. We took off and after a few minutes, the driver stopped the taxi and picked a man from the side of the road. He introduced the man as his father and off we went. Several miles later he got off. His uncle happened to be on the road a few miles later and we rode together for a while. The driver stopped and bought us water and shared his peanuts with us. He showed us a picture of his “darling.” He asked if we wanted to smoke. We said no, that I was allergic and he acknowledge it as a good idea not to smoke and then he promptly lit up his own cigarette.


When we got to our destination, the driver seemed to be going in circles assuring us all the while he knew were to go. Finally, he stopped the car at a taxi stand. Pretty soon, our driver got in the back seat with me. I was hoping this was a not a set up of some kind. But not to worry, another taxi driver from a completely different company, took over the wheel of our taxi and drove us to our hotel.

The hotel is very nice and after signing in, they put a plastic band in our wrist like those worn by hospital patients. I reluctantly extended my arm and hoped we were not being certified in some asylum for the insane. We learned the bands were for an “all inclusive package” we were getting. Kind of like the Club Med idea.