Turkey 2020

Merchants, Mosques & Masks: 3 Days In Izmir

Mexico, Thailand and Turkey. Of all the countries we’ve visited so far, those are our top three on the international cuisine league table, and our first night in Izmir posts a huge reminder of why Turkey is up there.

But first the day starts with a 2am alarm, a small hours taxi pick up and a red eye flight out of a very quiet Gatwick. Once in Izmir, it’s a train and a metro to Basmane station and a trudge with our backpacks to our next bed in the heart of the old town. We chose Hotel L’Agora for its unique location: a riad style building right in the middle of the ancient bazaar, and the reality is as good as the marketing: it’s a perfect location amidst buzz and activity and dwarfed by the minarets of surrounding mosques.

The bazaar – actually two enormous adjoining bazaars, Kemeralti and Kizlaragasi Hani – is a fabulous maze of soukh type shops, so intense and labyrinthine that it’s seriously hard to find the same shop or cafe twice. It feels fantastic to be right in the beating heart of this ancient city – though it’s a slightly different story coming home at night when these bustling lively passages are transformed into dark silent alley ways populated by sleeping dogs, scavenging cats and the occasional dodgy human.

This place has housed hawkers and traders since its first inception as a stop on the caravanserai trail, centuries ago, and the traditions live on with spices, coffee, fabrics, leather goods, jewellery, and just about everything else, being traded here in a cacophony of sound. Just walking through here, only hours after leaving the UK, has transported us to a different world.

We stop for a while at a traditional tea house and sit on the hard wooden benches adorned with heavy woven colourful cushions. We are in the heart of the bazaar, the sights and sounds are stimulating, the call to prayer from the numerous mosques echoing around the narrow streets. The aroma of spice stalls, hookah and grilled meat fill the air, we order a kebab from the kiosk across the street, it’s delicious and our first taster of what lies ahead.

Later on, our evening stroll leads us towards the iconic clock tower, the sound of live music draws us in to a bustling kerbside restaurant, we take a seat amongst these excitable locals. The vegetable dishes, particularly the sumptuous patlican (aubergine) are amazing, the chargrilled meat is delicious, the local draught beer is good too. The music is atmospheric, an acoustic guitar and violin accompanying a vocalist, one minute the music is lively and upbeat, the crowd singing along, clapping of hands, arms waving in the air, young and old alike enjoying this folk music; then a change of mood, the singing becomes soulful and haunting. There is a brief pause whilst the call to mosque takes over, then the music resumes and we are once again swept up in the atmosphere along with these locals; this is one of our best ever “first night in a new town” experiences.

Izmir began life and spent most of its history as the ancient city of Smyrna, only adopting the name Izmir in the 20th century, and is one of the very few ancient cities of Anatolia to continue to thrive through to modern times, which is probably due to its geographical location. The city curves around the huge, sweeping bay which shares its name, affording multiple sites for sheltered harbours, while the city’s land side is protected by mountains. Little wonder that trade thrived here throughout centuries of history.

Modern day Izmir is a stirring mix of traditional and contemporary. The bazaars, earthy and industrious, are still the beating heart of the city, and, unlike Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar, show very limited nods towards tourism and continue instead to thrive as a genuine market for the city’s people. Look carefully and you spy traces of the ancient bazaar walls and structures, barged into inconspicuous corners by the more pressing need to sell wares.

From the ports around the bay to the trading post on the caravanserai routes, from the time honoured bazaars to the contemporary equivalents – pedestrianised streets – Izmir’s whole story is one of trading, a story which has demonstrably stood the test of time.

Indeed, its oldest relic is the Agora, where columns, capitals and platforms of the Roman era are beautifully preserved, and even here, trading is core: a Roman agora is, after all, a citadel built around a market.

These days the iconic centre of Izmir is Konak Square with its unmissable clock tower and mini mosque, where daytime activity is brisk: children feed the pigeons, groups gather to chat, buskers play yet more haunting folk songs. Just south of Konak is the Asansor, a brick tower elevator built by a Jewish philanthropist to carry the less able from sea level up to the homes in the Jewish quarter, but is nowadays an attraction affording glorious views back across the bay.

North of Konak Square in the Kordon, a waterfront stretch of wall to wall bars and restaurants leading you to the trendy and affluent district of Alsancak, a district which so effortlessly brings Izmir into the modern day: full of life, full of indulgence, happy in its hip vibe.

But then Izmir does have a history of clashing cultures, historically both Muslim and Christian powers have held sway, as have the Ottomans, Romans and Greeks; Christian crusades brought bloodshed here, Jewish influences helped to forge the city’s principles, and when in more recent times Ataturk raised the Turkish flag in Konak Square, modern day Turkey had made its mark on the world. Yet none of these have dislodged the power of trade here: Izmir owes its existence to its position as a trading post, and probably will, for evermore. The city’s rich and colourful character is inextricably entwined with the need to trade, and is all the more stimulating for it.

One further note about contemporary Izmir. These days, the numerous images of the national hero Ataturk are far outnumbered by those of Erdogan. Enough said, maybe.

We soak in all of this, as well as taking a ferry across the bay to the bustling, assertive suburb of Karsiyaka, and enjoy two more amazing evenings of delicious food consumed amid scenes of music, dancing and revelry. There is a night time atmosphere in Izmir which is impossible to ignore: it really is a traveller’s dream to be whipped up in its verve. The food, the music and the language are all exclusively and undeniably Turkish. When your culture is this rich, there is no need to dilute it with influences from outside.

It feels extremely stimulating to have experienced a city which has been only lightly touched by globalisation and retains the strength of its true culture and identity. Izmir is a city with a modern side, but it is fiercely, undeniably, proudly Turkish.

Leaving Izmir, Loving Selcuk

Usually, it goes like this:

“Hello madam hello sir, where you from?”

“England”.

“Ooohhh, England! Where from? London? Manchester?”

“In the south, about 100 kilometres from London”

“OK, come look in my shop, I have best prices for leather, handbags, watches”.

However in Izmir it goes more like this:

“Hello madam hello sir where you from?”

“England”.

“Ooohhh, England! Are you here for the teeth?”

“Errr…what? No!”

“Many people come from England for teeth work. Izmir very good for dentist”.

“Really?”

“Yes. I am a dentist. I also have shop with best prices for leather. Come look in my shop”.

Our time in Izmir is up, so it’s back to the airport via metro and train to collect the hire car which will be our companion for the remainder of our month here in Turkey. Just a little disturbingly, there is roughly a spoonful of fuel in the tank and a faulty tyre warning light on the dashboard. “No problem, no problem”, they say, as we point to it. Hmmm, we’ll see..

Around an hour later we pull into Selcuk, a small town basking in its role as the gateway to Ephesus. Something like 80% of Ephesus is thought to still lay undiscovered underground, much of it beneath Selcuk itself. Through the centre of town run the remains of the archways of a Roman aquaduct, standing rather majestically above the cafe lined boulevards and green spaces; storks’ nests sit atop some of the ancient pillars whilst the afternoon soundtrack from the cafes is the tapping of worry beads and the clack-clack of backgammon counters. The September sun bakes the pavements, bougainvillea cascades down city walls, townsfolk greet us with beaming smiles as we explore our new base. It’s all exceedingly charming as a first impression.

Like all other visitors to Selcuk, we are here principally to explore ancient wonders, and this corner of the world certainly has its fair share. Within a few yards of our new home is Ayasuluk Hill, home to the castle, the St John Basilica and the Isa Bey Mosque, Ephesus is just a few kilometres away, and the Temple of Artemis walking distance from the town centre. This is the area where St John, baptist and apostle, is said to have resided, with the Virgin Mary, for their later years after Jesus entrusted the care of his mother to John.

Ephesus itself is a vast and stunning relic of a once gigantic city – at one time the fourth most populated city in the world, before successive earthquakes began its decline in the 4th century. Much of Ephesus is well preserved, having been buried under multiple layers of soil, and it is fascinating to walk around its ruins and visualise its existence as a thriving metropolis centuries ago.

A combined ticket for Ayasuluk, Ephesus, the Artemis temple and the Ephesus Museum in town costs 185 lira, good value with the lira at 9 to the £ currently.

Selcuk really is a delightful little town, the two streets leading to the aquaduct arches are lined with attractive restaurants, the arches themselves are tastefully lit at night. Back streets either side of the main drag hide quaint bars and cafes, the Saturday market bustles but the rest of the town chills and lets the world rush by. And every few hours, Selcuk reverberates to the sound of a multitude of muezzins calling the faithful to prayer, clashing as if competing for worshippers.

We first meet Ali sitting outside his shop with nothing to do as tourists are COVID scarce. Ali is a lifetime Selcuk resident, well travelled but now running the shoemaker business started by his grandfather some 80 odd years ago, though his shop doubles up nowadays as a craft goods outlet to bolster the unreliable shoe business. He is an amusing fellow and we enjoy a beer or two together, discussing religion, politics and history, before he organises a kebab for us from the cafe opposite, despite the fact the kitchen has already closed.

Ali is opinionated, though it is noticeable that each time he makes a criticism of the current political regime, he checks over his shoulder and hushes his tone. Such is life in 21st century Turkey. He also becomes a bad influence, keeping us out after midnight more than once, drinking beer and wine, and eating late night snacks. Yes, definitely a bad influence!

On our other excursions from Selcuk, we visit Meryemana, the house in which the Virgin Mary is said to have lived, plus the grotto of the Seven Sleepers, site of another Christian legend, before we head out to the wonderful mountain village of Sirince. Sitting on a steep mountainside way up above Selçuk, Sirince is home to traditional Ottoman houses identical to those we saw in Berat, Albania (“the city of a thousand windows”). It is also a favourite weekend day out for the people of Izmir, so is very busy on the day we visit.

Many of the Ottoman houses are beautifully renovated, others in severe decay but no less characterful for all that. The multitudinous restaurants and souvenir shops can’t detract from the stunning beauty of Sirince, and, just to cap it all, this is a vineyard region with a large selection of local wines on sale. We buy some. Of course.

Our host in Selcuk, Bora, is an extremely knowledgeable man and is very happy to talk with us about Ephesus, Selcuk, Turkey and their complex histories, all delivered with the air and grace of an educated tour guide. Between them, Bora and Ali have taught us a lot about their country, albeit from very different political and religious standpoints. Both have contributed greatly to enjoying our stay here.

Selcuk could easily be called the town of tractors. The surrounding lowlands between the sea and the mountains are packed with fruit farms and olive groves, and you can easily get the impression that most of the farm workers live in the town, as tractors and trailers are everywhere, especially on market day. You could start a Massey Ferguson museum here.

Since the heyday of Ephesus, the sea has receded roughly 4 kilometres, the site of Ephesus port is now reed-choked marshland, beyond which the golden sands of Pamucak beach stretch along the coast. Miles of golden sand yet somehow not a particularly alluring.

As our time here ends, we have been rather smitten by Selcuk and all that it has to offer. At the back of our minds, we’ve been seeking a town where we might one day settle for an entire summer, if we ever found the right place. Selcuk is ticking most of those boxes. We feel we will return.

And oh yes, in the end Michaela DID buy a pair of hand made shoes from Ali.

The Cotton Castle Of Pamukkale

It’s actually quite hard to leave Selcuk, so we take one last stroll through town to bid farewell to Ali our new friend, Osman the guy at our favourite restaurant and finally Bora our host, and drive out of town with the unshakeable feeling that we have unfinished business here.

The 3-hour-plus journey from Selcuk to our next destination Pamukkale turns out to be a rather uninspiring drive through mostly nondescript lands and industrial towns. A very decent kebab lunch stop at Burharkent is the only point of interest until the last few miles before Pamukkale itself, where at last there are cotton fields and fruit farms to decorate the landscape.

Pamukkale, which translates literally as “cotton castle”, was originally a small farming village, around which has now grown a town which has been developed essentially for tourists who, like us, have come to view the natural phenomenon of the white mountain and the nearby ancient sites. You can see the white mountain for some distance as you approach the village: it’s a pretty remarkable site even from afar.

Of course, the white cliff phenomenon has nothing to do with the cotton which is coincidentally farmed all around this area, but is a result of hot thermal springs sending huge quantities of calcite-rich waters cascading down the mountainside. The minerals are deposited on the limestone rocks, forming snow white sculpted shapes over a large cliff like area, and the result is a spectacular shining white edifice dominating the plains below. The whole result of this process is a rock form known as travertine, but its appearance is almost one of a curtain of snow suspended in mid air above the plains.

The hot therapeutic waters which gush from the springs have been attracting visitors for millennia, indeed the sizeable Greek city of Hierapolis was founded here because of those hot springs, before the Romans moved in and enhanced the city still further.

We walk barefoot on the travertine – as per the rules – underfoot is gently rippled, a bit like the hardened shell of a cuttle fish, water gently skimming the surface on its journey downhill. The calcite deposit, the so called cotton castle, is dazzlingly bright in the morning sun. We paddle in the pools where there is a thin claylike consistency underfoot and the higher we go, the warmer the water becomes. A narrow gulley lines the edge of the pathway, water gushing down at some speed almost washing us away as we paddle, the water massaging us like an extreme jacuzzi. Climbing this strange white rock, feeling the power and the heat of the water, and stepping in these strange warm pools, is an altogether unusual experience.

There is an added bonus here too. If you turn away from the travertine and look south there are truly magnificent views back across the plains and the cotton fields, past the city of Denizli nestled in the foothills, to the towering Golgeli Dagi mountains beyond. It’s a stop and stare moment.

Once we reach the top of the travertine cliff, and sidestep the tourist trap foodcourt which would probably be mobbed in normal times, we are greeted by the wonderful sight of Hierapolis stretching out in every direction around us. The remains of public bath buildings, city dwellings, main streets, theatre and agora, are well enough preserved to give us a true perspective of the size of this city. More evidence is seen through churches, tombs and a necropolis which covers an enormous area.

The heat is intense, the silence giving way to the buzzing of insects scurrying of lizards and the crunch of scorched vegetation beneath our feet, we feel that we are walking through history amongst this monumental site. Both Ephesus and Hierapolis have been fascinating places to visit, to feel, read and absorb the history of ancient civilisations.

The level of preservation, and the area covered, makes it perhaps easier to envisage the living city here than it was at Ephesus, even though Ephesus far outweighed Hierapolis in terms of both size and importance.

As we leave Hierapolis and descend the travertine cliff, we are in awe of the sheer amount of water created here, bubbling hot from the springs and rushing down to the plains below. It is mind boggling to think that this volume of water has surged in this way, incessant for millennia. And this is only one spa of many around here.

Pamukkale: Ancient Cities In Modern Times

As September becomes October the mountain air develops a chill, there is noticeable change in the evening and morning temperatures which seem to be dropping a couple of degrees each day. The daytime sun is still hot though. Also changing is the UK’s view on Turkey, and news filters through whilst we’re in Pamukkale that, just like our Croatia trip, we will again face 14 days quarantine on our return. We’ll take it: the joy of these trips is well worth the pain of quarantine.

Pamukkale itself is a slightly unusual town, catering for large numbers of visitors to the obvious major attraction. A high percentage of these visitors come, it seems, on excursions of 1 or 2 days duration, and so a single night stay is the norm. Add to that the effects of COVID on visitor numbers this year, and you end up with a town of restaurants busy at lunchtime but then competing for a handful of clients at night.

Those same restaurants serve, for the most part, bog standard tourist fare, though one, Kayaç Wine House, stands head and shoulders above the rest. Great food, draught beer, local wine, low prices and friendly owners. And a scatty labrador. What more could you want?!

A few miles south of Pamukkale are the ruins of another breathtaking ancient city, Laodicea. Built on the top of hills overlooking the Lycus plains, there are again wonderfully preserved buildings, with artwork and mosaics from Roman times still visible. Laodicea’s story mirrors those of both Ephesus and Hierapolis: ancient civilisations drawn to the water source; creation of the city by the Greeks; enhancement and development by the Romans; decline triggered by successive earthquakes. And, finally, rediscovery through archeological excavations in the 20th century.

Our quartet of ancient sites is completed with the 90-minute drive to Aphrodisias which ambushes us by being quite the most spectacular of all four, full of incredibly well preserved statuary, porticos, mosaics and even artwork, let alone the large sections of buildings. Its remote location means less visitors cone here even in busy years, yet Aphrodisias is even more impressive than the other three.

By way of change from ancient sites we take a drive to the delightful mountain village of Karahayit, another source of health giving spa waters from hot springs, though this time an iron content gives a red staining to the rocks rather than the white of Pamukkale. Seriously hot water pumps from a spring on the edge of the village and forms pools amid the red tinted boulders.

Karahayit has its own story. Pamukkale was, in the 1970s, becoming a victim of its own popularity. Mass tourism was destroying the white mountain, and large hotels had been built right on its summit. Thankfully, UNESCO stepped in and stopped the rot, the hotels were bulldozed and some sensibility was introduced to restrict visitor activity to today’s levels. And so the hotel trade refocused on Karahayit, building a handful of 5-star spa hotels around the hot springs in this modest village. But the visitors never came in the required numbers and Karahayit, then Pamukkale, ceased to be destinations of long term stay, and both visitor numbers and the time spent here dwindled. The envisaged success never materialised, so the hotels now sit incongruously idle and the village has resumed a semblance of normality. Karahayit itself is an enormously attractive village with a busy main street lined with shops and delightful cafes, once again quite authentic now that the dream of being an international destination has died.

In stark contrast to the farming villages which sit just a stone’s throw from Pamukkale, Denizli sits proudly at the foot of the mountains and gleams in the midday sun. Originally a trading post on the Silk Route, it is now a thoroughly modern thriving city with a large university and over 650,000 inhabitants, managing like many Turkish cities to effortlessly mix the modern with the traditional.

Taking the dolmus into the city, we explore its modern centre for a while, including a brief visit to the ethnographic museum housed in “Ataturk’s House” – a slight misnomer as he only ever stayed one night there. Denizli translates into English as “like the sea”, a reference to the fact that this city is where most of the water cascading from the surrounding mountains ends up before it joins the Menderes on its way to sea.

The city’s emblem is a cockerel, very appropriate since we’ve been awakened by cockerels and muezzins early every morning since arriving in Turkey. Our highlight of our Denizli visit is undoubtedly the Teleferik, a cable car which climbs steeply from a city suburb to 1,870 metres above sea level, affording magnificent views of the city, back across the plains to the white mountain of Pamukkale, and of the mountains which surround you at the top of the climb.

We have one full day left in Pamukkale, but it might just be a day to remember, with a bucket list item about to be ticked, and a travel ambition realised…

Last Day in Pamukkale And The Wishlist Ticked

As we approached retirement in the pre-COVID days of 2019 and our dream of full time travel was becoming reality, we, like most travellers, drew up a lengthy wishlist of places to go and things to do. Pamukkale has delivered one of the latter for us, in the shape of a hot air balloon flight….

It’s 6.30am, just getting light, and half an hour past the first muezzin call of the day, when we are collected by minibus and taken to the launch field at the foot of the “cotton castle”. Five balloons are in the process of being inflated, bursts of flame roaring into each. Lift off is gentle, the climb slow and steady, up and over the white mountain as Hierapolis drifts into view.

Soon we are way above Pamukkale and our current base town takes on the form of a model village laid out beneath us as the sun rises over the mountains and the sky changes colour before our eyes. We can see the true extent of fruit farms which stretch out for miles in every direction, the high rises of Denizli glinting in the rising sun, the looming mountains which form the backdrop to the city. Between the bursts of flame which power regularly into the balloon, the tranquility is palpable. The silence of drifting 1500 metres above a town, brings a karma all of its own. We expected spectacular sights, but the peace of a hot air balloon flight is a wonderful experience in its own right. We love every second.

Our pilot Emre has given us our preparations for a rough landing, but in the event it’s not necessary as he expertly guides the balloon to a track between pomegranate orchards. The end is as astonishing as the flight was exciting: Emre actually guides the balloon down so that the basket settles perfectly on to the trailer behind the pick-up waiting to collect us. Unbelievable! An altogether fabulous experience, and all before breakfast…

To complete our final day here in Pamukkale we take a drive around some of the wonderfully rustic farming villages in the area. Crops are so plentiful here; the waters which rush endlessly from the mountain springs are channelled into a marvellously efficient irrigation system complete with temporary dams and diversions directing the water only to those fields which need it on the day.

Consequently there is an abundance of crop, changing with whatever is in season. Just now, the vines are stripped and the grapes are mostly gone, but we are clearly at the height of the pomegranate harvest. There is manic activity in the fields, ageing tractors drag laden trailers through the lanes to the village, where the juggernauts wait to be loaded.

The sheer quantity of fruit and vegetable crops is a sight to see, punctuated now and again by the bobbing white heads of the cotton fields completing the patchwork quilt of the countryside.

And so the balloon event marks our last day in Pamukkale; next up is the long drive south west to our next destination, Dalyan.

Destination Dalyan

The 3-hour drive from Pamukkale down to the coast just gets better and better, through spectacular mountain scenery and then over the mountains themselves. Once we leave the D330 at Golcuk and cut through the lanes which take us to the D400, we are deep into pine clad mountains, winding our way first up and then down the spiralling lanes. It’s a terrific drive.

After two hotels and a guest house so far on this trip, it’s good to settle into our new riverside apartment knowing we now have our own space for a while. The rocky outcrops across the river are easy on the eye and as we approach the town on our first sortie, boats bob on the water and trip touts call for our attention.

Our first impressions of Dalyan is that is much more of a tourist resort than our previous locations, perhaps more so than we expected. But such is the delightful setting of this town that we soon overlook the tourist element and settle in to enjoy our stay here.

In fact the setting isn’t just very attractive, it’s slightly unusual too. The town sits on the Dalyan Cayi river, a mile or so upstream from the coast, its buildings hugging one riverbank whilst the other bank is dominated by lofty rocky outcrops. Palm trees one side, rock faces the other. Between the town and the sea lies a vast area of salt marsh and reed beds, packed with wildlife. Many boats ply their trade from town, either upstream to the Koycegiz Lake or downstream to the beach.

The river teems with fish, of both salt and fresh water species, as the sea fish apparently journey upstream to spawn in the lake, making it possible to catch sea bass from the river bank four or five miles inland. Kingfishers dart back and forth across the water, fish in giant shoals attack any bread thrown by diners from the waterfront restaurants, birds of prey hover over the reed beds. But best of all are the turtles: three species including the loggerhead turtle breed here, and it’s all but impossible to spend time here without spotting some of the giant creatures drifting through the waters.

For a surprisingly small fee we are able to hire, just for ourselves, a skipper and a boat which would normally hold around two dozen passengers, for a whole day. And a brilliant day it is, too. First we take in the natural mud bath where we wallow in the deep sulphurous soft mud and coat our bodies in its warmth, followed by a cold shower and then an immersion in the natural pool of hot water from the springs. It’s great fun, although some 48 hours later we still reek of sulphur each time we break sweat.

Further upstream we reach the lake, where we leap from the boat and swim around in its surprisingly warm water. Heading back downstream, we take in an awesome sight. On the opposite bank from the centre of Dalyan is the site of 4th century BC Lycian tombs built into the cliffside watching over the town like a mini Petra. Our skipper pauses here, and then moves on to Kaunos.

We disembark and climb the hill to Kaunos on foot. Kaunos is another ruin of an ancient city, dating from the 10th century BC, smaller of course than the others we’ve visited but no less interesting and thought provoking. The theatres of these ancient civilisations are particularly impressive; it is so stimulating to sit looking into these places and just imagine the atmosphere of a raucous night out, centuries ago.

Finally we head to the Iztuzu beach, a large and lengthy stretch of sand which has suffered minimal development due to its protected status as a breeding ground for the turtles. The nesting sites are protected and there are strict rules in place throughout the beach, rightly giving priority to turtles over humans.

The landscape which unfolds around us during the boat trip is spectacular and unusual. Boats follow twisting channels between the thick reed beds before disembarking at the back of the beach, as the beach stretches along a strand between river and sea. Salt marshes and swamps fill the foreground in front of sheer rock faces and edifices which rise dramatically and irregularly from the ground. It’s all very appealing and pleasing on the eye.

Dalyan is also relaxing. Despite the tourist element (although this is no doubt lessened by both COVID and the end of the season), Dalyan is one of those places which just chills you out and calms you down, then buys you a drink and takes you out to dinner. Which, given the proliferation of fish, is as varied and tasty as you could wish Turkish food to be.

As we reach Day 17 of this journey through south west Turkey, the weather changes and for the first time on the entire trip, the sun is obscured by clouds. A handful of Dalyan restaurants draw up the shutters, as if a day without sun is the final straw in this COVID-ravaged summer, and they’re calling an end to their season. For us it’s the very first day without sunshine, and we’ve seen not a drop of rain since landing in Izmir.

We can accept the odd cloud.

From Dalyan To Kas: Along The Turquoise Coast

The turtles, kingfishers and other natural wonders of Dalyan continue to wow and entertain us as we see out our last few days in stunning and peaceful surroundings. Our time here has been very chilled, helped undoubtedly by the lovely apartment: we would strongly recommend to anyone visiting Dalyan to stay right beside the river to get the most out of your stay. Taking breakfast whilst turtles swim around you is a very peaceful way to start your day.

Take a look at the video link below
https://youtu.be/P_NBoKT5jKE

Over our last couple of days we revisit Iztuzu beach to soak up the October sun, take a drive out of town and discover the beautiful fruit farm village of Eskikoy where we wander among the trees laden with fruit, and visit the largest town in the area, Ortaca.

Ortaca celebrates its fruit farming legacy with firstly a cool statue of fruit pickers, sited on a traffic island, and secondly with a terrifically colourful and lively market with a quantity of fresh produce which has to be seen to be believed. This is a weekly market, Saturdays only, and, judging by the huge bags of produce being carried away by everyone, the locals seem to buy a whole week’s supplies on their visit each Saturday.

For our last evening in Dalyan we enjoy a fabulous meal accompanied by a gorgeous local red wine and a ridiculously small bill, served by a smiling waiter, watched by the pleading eyes of several cats, listening to the Turkish folk music played by a group of guys just up the road. All in all a very fitting last evening to what has been a very relaxing and chilled few days.

After goodbyes with our lovely hosts we are back on to the D400 coast road heading east, first over and between lofty mountains, across vast covered fields of tomato crops, and then, for the last few miles, along one of the best coastal drives we have ever experienced. Cut into the steep cliffs, the D400 twists and turns to follow the contours of bays and headlands, and rises and falls with the dramatic terrain, the deep blue sea to our right. It’s a thoroughly exhilarating drive.

Along the way, we make a roadside stop for cay at a ramshackle open kitchen in the scrub. A group of villagers seem amused that we’ve joined them in their corner of the world, the smiling lady owner of the place (not a word of English, of course), serves cay and then brings us dishes of Turkish rice and ayran, and demonstrates how we should eat by mixing the two. It’s delicious. She charges us 3 lira. That’s about 30p.

Eventually we descend from the main road down to Kas, our next destination town hugging the steep hillsides curved beautifully around the perfectly shaped bay. It looks absolutely idyllic in the afternoon sunshine.

Time to see what Kas has to offer.

Kas: Sunken Cities, Sarcophagi…And Santa

Well, the first news is, we’re not going home. Our tour of south west Turkey is giving us so much enjoyment that the thought of leaving this glorious place, and weather, and returning to quarantine and maybe lockdown as the short days of the English winter descend, has lost its appeal. If it ever had any.

So we’ve changed our flights and will now be in Turkey for another seven weeks, not returning to the UK until 1st December. We know the weather here will cool down – summer is over, after all – and there may be COVID related changes here too, but we’ve decided it’s worth the risks and we will now spend more time exploring this beautiful country.

Kas is an extremely quaint little town, climbing the steep hills away from the harbour, the stacked buildings of the town curved perfectly around the bay. A former fishing village, the town opened up to tourism after the coast road was completed, and is now a tastefully updated town with a cluster of bars and restaurants at the waterfront. Behind these is a network of steeply inclined narrow cobbled streets where attractive low rise buildings face each other through wooden balconies. So tasteful is some of the development that it’s not always easy to tell the old buildings from the new.

The surrounding area is absolutely steeped in history. A minibus ride out of Kas takes us to the seaside village of Ucagiz from where we take a boat out to some amazing sights. We are in Lycia territory here, the major Lycian Way hiking trail runs for over 500 kilometres along the coastal mountain ridge, linking the sites of major cities of the Lycian era.

Ucagiz is truly remarkable. A tiny village at the end of a dead end road down to the sea, it sits opposite the UNESCO protected island of Kekova; both the village and the island were once part of the Lycian city of Simena, a hugely important port in its time. In a recurring historical theme of this trip, Simena was destroyed by a giant sized 2nd century earthquake, the effect of which was to allow the Mediterranean to surge in and submerge the city.

To view it now is stunning. Remains of harbours, churches and city dwellings are visible both on the shoreline and beneath the clear waters; the layouts of large buildings now completely underwater are clearly visible from the boat, and even more clear from the cliffs above. It really is amazing to see.

A short distance along the coast is Kalekoy, another remnant of Simena and the site of the remains of Simena’s castle – in fact, Kalekoy translates literally as “Castle Village”. This village is famed for being inaccessible by road – it can only be reached by hiking or from the sea. Its castle remains are well preserved and well worth the climb, for the views alone, but Kalekoy itself seems to be a victim of its own success and is a little cluster of souvenir shops and basic cafes catering entirely for the day trippers arriving in a constant stream of boats. A bit like we have.

It’s the turn of the hire car for our next sortie the following day, to the town of Demre some 25 miles away. Demre is a peculiarly unattractive concrete town on a US-style grid, but is notable for three claims to fame: one, it’s on the site of the ancient port of Myra, the point of importation of goods from Arabia making their way to Rome, in the process making Myra a hugely prosperous city, as well as being a historical stopping point for those making a pilgrimage to Jerusalem.

Secondly, this is massive tomato farming country, and Demre is nicknamed the “Tomato capital of Turkey”, surrounded by mile upon mile of greenhouse fields, though the greenhouse covers are plastic rather than glass.

Demre’s third claim is possibly its richest: remarkably, it is the town which gave rise to the entire concept of Santa Claus as we know it. No really. St Nicholas lived here: in fact it turns out he was for centuries known as St Nicholas of Myra, and it was here that he earned his reputation for kindness, delivering presents to poor children and gifting dowries of golden coins to peasant brides. If he couldn’t enter the house, he would drop these gifts – you’ve guessed it – down the chimney. And so the legend was born!

The bones of St Nicholas were stolen from Demre (Myra) in 1087, and taken to Bari in Italy where, by complete coincidence, we saw his “other” tomb only last year on our trip to Puglia. Turkey wants them back, by the way.

The impressive remains of the St Nicholas basilica in Demre are well worth a visit, and are apparently a popular travel destination for Russian visitors. As a consequence, information signs are in Russian first, then Turkish and English.

From Demre we revisit Ucagiz, the point where we caught the previous day’s boat. We had liked the look of it as we passed through, and it doesn’t disappoint, with beautiful views, a remarkable number of sizeable sarcophagi dotting its cliffsides, and a clutch of fishing boats delivering to the pontoon restaurants. We clamber amongst and around the ancient remains, try to decipher the centuries old inscriptions carved into the tombs, then, inevitably, enjoy a terrific lunch of fresh fish grilled over a wood fire. The ramshackle homes of this little seafront village, surrounded by these ancient tombs and steeped in such fascinating history, make Ucagiz a charming place.

Our apartment at Kas is just above the main town, with gorgeous views across Kas and out to sea. By day, and from early morning, the muezzins’ call to prayer echoes hauntingly up from the three mosques in town; by evening, this is replaced by the brash sounds of live bands somewhere in the bars. Not quite so haunting, not quite so welcome, but redeemed by what is obviously a local restriction, because at precisely midnight every night, the music stops dead as if unplugged, and Kas once again falls silent.

Up until now, we had just one more destination before we returned to the UK. Now, the search for extra adventures begins…

Cirali: Cool Bars & Hot Rocks

The Mediterranean coast of Turkey stretches for a total of 994 miles, most of it with stunning scenery, and as we drive to our next destination it’s plain to see why its alternative name is the Turquoise Coast; the colours of the sea are so extreme as to be almost unreal.

Our final day in Kas is spent at Kaputas, a cove beach much loved by Turkish weekenders just a few kilometres up the coast from the town. Despite being right on the D400 main road, the beach sits way below the highway down a steep cliff, and is a picturesque cove where the waves crash in over a high shelf – the sort of place which tempts us to forget our age and muck about in the water like overgrown kids.

Once again the coastal drive eastwards from Kas is ridiculously beautiful and scenic, the road itself exciting. Starting our search for a longer term base for the next few weeks, we call in at Finike, where the authentic Turkish feel of the town impresses us (and so does the breakfast!), but the beach is fairly scrubby. We move on and keep our options open.

Leaving the D400 and dropping down from the Taurus Mountains we pass through lush green valleys on the narrow lane which becomes almost a dirt track as we pull into our next destination, Cirali, so different from our previous locations on this trip.

Cirali may be a draw for holiday makers, but its low key beach-bum vibe puts us in mind of trips to other parts of Asia: this is more like Sri Lanka or Malaysian islands than a typical Mediterranean resort. Full of lush greenery, palms rustling in the sea breeze, timber shacks housing chilled eateries, subdued lighting to protect the turtle beaches, and narrow sandy tracks for village roads, you could be forgiven for mistaking Cirali for a tropical island village. Everything is single storey; there are as many camp sites as lodges. Hotels are groups of bungalows in lush gardens rather than a single building. We are immediately sold.

Walking along the dimly lit sandy track from our digs to and from the village for our evening meals has an atmosphere all of its own; both evocative and romantic.

Cirali has a beach stretching 2.5 kilometres, at one end of which are the remains of the ancient city of Olympos. Unlike the other ancient cities visited on this trip, Olympos sits not high on a hill, but nestled down in the green valley either side of the river. Thus, exploring it is almost a game of mystery; archways, structures and sarcophagi hide behind trees and amongst the undergrowth waiting to be discovered.

At the other, eastern, end of the beach is Chimera, known locally as Yanartas, an intriguing and even more mysterious place. A waymarked 1-kilometre climb up the steep mountainside brings us to the strange sight of the burning rocks of Chimera, where orange flames lick the rocks from around two dozen vents on the hillside. The scientific explanation is a specific mix of gases which exists beneath the rock surface, which immediately ignites on contact with the open air, resulting in these strange mystical fires bursting into life before our eyes. There is an aroma akin to Bunsen burner in the air.

Part of the intrigue here is that these fires have been burning for at least 2,500 years, having been mentioned in the writings of both Ctesias and Pliny The Elder, and holding a place in Greek mythology. The myth goes that the Chimera (or Chimaera) was a fire breathing beast with lion’s head, goat’s body, and a snake (with head) for a tail, which was slain on this mountain and buried by its conqueror Bellerophon, riding Pegasus the winged horse, in a mighty battle, leaving the beast to breathe fire in anger from beneath the Earth’s surface. That’s a far better explanation than a mix of gases, if you ask us!

We climb twice up to the Chimera, once in daylight and then once at dusk, to see the fires burning orange as darkness falls, the latter being even more of an eerie sensation as the strange flares come and go in the dark. One enterprising young man has brought sausages and beer, and cooks his tea over the natural flame.

Walking a tricky part of the Lycian Way, we pass a hiker in a bizarre outfit of a rubber balaclava-like hood, speedo swimming trunks, hiking boots and socks, and nothing else, looking like some weird refugee from an old Monty Python sketch.

Some 23 kilometres from Cirali is the town of Tekirova, which is a bit like stepping out of Turkey and into Russia. Such is the town’s popularity with Russian tourists that even shop fascias are in their language.

Just outside and above Tekirova is the Olympos Teleferik, a large scale cable car, in fact one of the largest aerial tramway systems in the world, rising from the base station at 726m to the top of Mount Olympos at 2,365m above sea level. It is steep in more ways than one: in a country where everything is cheap, we are suddenly being asked for £61.50 for two of us to ride a cable car!

Once there though, we feel we have to do it, so we shell out, a bit reluctantly, and climb steadily way up into the sky. The views are absolutely incredible – or at least they are when we get brief glimpses through the thick cloud; the rest of the time we are effectively staring into a fog. We eagerly anticipate the journey back down and nab the best places at the front of the car, only to find the entire descent is a complete white-out of clouds which only clear in the last few yards before “landing”. It was an experience, but it won’t rate as the best £60 we’ve ever spent!

And so our time in Cirali comes to a close, and we now enter the extra time in Turkey brought on by our change of return date. Another adventure begins.

From Cirali To Side: Phase 2 Begins

Something different is stirring in Cirali tonight. Restaurant staff are standing in the lane looking at the sky, exchanging opinions. Children chatter excitedly. Tables and chairs are moved indoors, perspex partitions manoeuvred into place, logs thrown on to fires. Something is definitely stirring.

Our final three days in Cirali have been punctuated with thunder storms, but it is clear that tonight’s storm, now looming in jet black clouds over the Taurus Mountains, is causing an extra stir amongst the villagers. They obviously know more than we do. What follows is a spectacular display of sheet and fork lightning, electric blue and stark white, from the flicker of a welder’s torch to the blinding flashes of a rock concert, for several hours right through the evening.

We make it home just before the rain. One guy tells us that these have been the first rains in Cirali since March, and the first meaningful October rainfall for 8 years. No wonder everyone was so animated as those storm clouds gathered.

Leaving Cirali is a milestone on this Turkish adventure: this is the point where our original trip would have ended with our return to the UK, had we not changed our plan, so today also sees us relinquish the hire car after 4 weeks, dropping it off at Antalya Airport but then excitedly walking away from the Terminal and heading back out into Turkey.

From Antalya our next temporary home is the town of Side (pronounced see-day). Side is a varied mix of elements; one side of the marina is an ugly wall of high rise package hotels complete with tourist seafront restaurants and town beaches full of sun loungers. East of the Town Beach is a promontory housing the old town, a pleasant little maze of narrow streets with old houses now mostly converted to shops for tourists but still attractive for all that. Beyond there, and beyond the marina, is a long stretch of a more pleasant beach – the “East Beach”, where the Mediterranean is beautifully clear.

But there are clearly some real gems in Side too. This is the site of the ancient city of Selimiye, and its ruins and remains are extensive. All around the old town, throughout the vast sand dunes behind the East Beach, and dotted incongruously amongst modern buildings, are fantastically preserved remains of the ancient city, including sections of the city wall. Just how much of Selimiye remains, simply standing proud as modern day life goes on around it, is remarkable.

Luckily we have secured an apartment in a great position, in a quiet neighbourhood with sea views but no views of any of the package hotel district. We are just a 5 minute walk from the town beach and only a 20 minute walk across the dunes to East Beach.

Even better, the “ordinary” town is just behind us, across Ataturk Boulevard, an area which is home to the more basic eateries away from the tourist traps, and home also to the kind of shops and markets we will be needing. Home, in fact, to the permanent population of Side rather than holiday makers, so giving us the “local” feel that may be missing from the seafront area. For our extended stay in one place, we wanted to experience an “ordinary” Turkish town, but we will also need the facilities which will provided by the existence of a tourist trade.

The combination of those things seems about right here, and we quickly feel this is the place to linger, so we set about negotiating a five-week stay in our new apartment. So from here, it’s all about learning to live in a new country and a different culture, enjoying the experience of being a resident rather than a traveller.

We’re looking forward to the experience.

The Evolving History of Side

The storms and cooled nights of Cirali already seem a long way behind us: since arriving in Side we’ve stepped back into summer with unbroken sunshine and temperatures which have tipped 30 a couple of times but are consistently in the upper 20s. The crystal clear waters of the Mediterranean at East Beach are a constant draw.

Several weeks ago, back in Selcuk, we commented to one of our new found friends, how much we love the fact that the ancient monuments are so accessible, providing the freedom to wander amongst the history rather than view it from the other side of a fence. His reply was that, with so many hundreds of treasured sites, Turkey as a nation is one giant nationwide museum rather than a country seeking to protect its few jewels, and so does not need to be quite so precious.

Side is living proof of his comments. It’s rare to find a town where the historical remains are so extensive and so effortlessly absorbed into modern ways. Remains of the city walls, sections of buildings, inscribed pillars, all lay around every corner, sometimes merely standing in places such as traffic islands or between shops. Boulders beneath trees are, on closer inspection, the building blocks of the ancient city, bearing inscriptions in unfamiliar text.

The greatest concentration of remains are strewn across the sand dunes between the old town and East Beach, including the largely intact remains of an impressive Greco-Roman theatre, which is the only part of the entire site which is pay-to-enter. Standing proudly above the harbour are the textbook, photo-perfect remains of the Temple of Apollo, so delightfully preserved.

Perhaps just as startling as the ancient remains within the modern environment, are the walkways of the streets of the old town. At regular intervals the paving gives way to glass panels, and as you step warily across these, the walkways of ancient times are visible below your feet, sometimes still with beautifully intricate and remarkably well preserved mosaic floors.

Walking around these sites is so interesting that you can almost ignore the constant banter of shopkeepers and restauranteurs imploring you to “just come look, if you no buy, it’s not problem”. Almost.

Apparently the provision of finance by central Government for further excavation here is sporadic, which perhaps explains why so many of the ancient ruins seem to simply lay untouched. Whatever the reasons, it makes the older part of Side a visually stimulating location.

Side is said to have been founded by the Greeks in the 7th century BC, but evidence suggests that an existing indigenous population already occupied the site, evidence which is borne out by text on coins and carvings which even historians have not been able to decipher. The current thinking is that the incoming Greeks adopted the local dialect instead of imposing the Greek language on the locals.

The position of the town, on a narrow promontory, made for both easy protection by the city walls and creation of a safe harbour, so developing Side into one of the most important trade centres in Pamphylia. Alexander The Great took the town in 333 BC prior to a succession of different peoples taking Side by force, before the Romans moved in and restored some kind of order.

However its remote location made Side a target for less respected trades as well as the legitimate ones, and both piracy and slave trading were rife here for centuries. Eventually though, an irresistible combination of attacks by highlanders, invasions by Christian zealots and Arab fleets, plus the inevitable earthquakes, brought about the city’s decline.

It wasn’t until the end of the 19th century that Side was re-inhabited, this time by Turkish Muslims coming in from Crete. These were the guys who built the new town (now, of course, the “old town”), over the top of the ancient remains, which is how we now come to view the ancient streets below those glazed panels. Somewhat ironically though, the Cretan buildings are what today decorate the very attractive cobbled streets, and are a quaint and pleasing sight in their own right.

The old town built over the ancient city

Nowadays Side is made up of three separate and very distinct parts: the long run of large scale package hotels and seafront restaurants along the town beach; the quaint old town occupying the promontory site of ancient Side; and the residential town just inland of these, going about its everyday business away from the tourist area.

Not surprisingly there are three different price level economies to match. 170 lira in the residential town buys you the same meal and drinks for which you will ship 480 lira just a few hundred yards away in the old town. At about 10 lira to the £, you can do the maths!

Side has seen riches and it has seen desertion and decline. In the last forty years or so it has seen a recovery of wealth brought about by tourism. Whatever your feelings about that, it is simply the most recent chapter in an evolving story. As, of course, is all of history.

Living In Side Turkey

As we approach the end of our sixth week in Turkey we also begin our second week in Side, with a few things moving on.

October 29th is Republic Day here, Turkey’s biggest public holiday, commemorating the day in 1923 when Ataturk united this huge nation by declaring the existence of the Republic, although in reality the republic was effectively almost 3 years old by that date. In normal times, Republic Day is a nationwide festival with much celebration, but the Government has this year implemented COVID restrictions so the festivities are mostly restricted to draping of the Turkish flag over buildings and buses.

Speaking of COVID, matters have changed again back home in the UK, where lockdown is resuming. So far, there is no instruction for travellers to return home, so, with the best part of a month left before our scheduled return date, we can only wait and see what transpires, though it seems the chances of our Easyjet flight being cancelled are pretty high.

In the meantime, we look to settle down in Side….

A short, and cheap, dolmus ride inland from Side is the larger town of Manavgat, home to a thriving market and all other amenities. Manavgat is built around the wide river of the same name, which flows right through the centre of town and is bordered by a succession of small parks and attractive gardens, plus three separate runs of waterfront restaurants serving quality food at generally very cheap prices. The atmosphere along the riverside is very appealing, as is the town in general.

In the town centre the waters are deep green; boat trips from here take you a few kilometres upstream to two waterfalls, by which point the waters are a bright turquoise as they cascade over the boulders. This is a young river rising from springs and underground lakes nearby, the turquoise colour seemingly coming from minerals present in the water at its source.

There is a quality about Manavgat which is extremely appealing and welcoming. The thriving twice weekly market has already become our source of produce for home cooking, the abundance of fresh fruit and vegetables and the bustling atmosphere is exciting; buying our food here, learning to communicate, preparing fresh meals back in our apartment, are all elements of something we so wanted to experience on our travels.

Back to our apartment in Side. We may be being overly simplistic, but for us the view from our balcony brings something a little bit mystical each night. By road we are nearly 100 miles from our previous location at Cirali; as the crow flies, across the sea, the Taurus Mountains at Cirali are just over 40 miles away, so of course not visible to the naked eye. Yet each evening, because we look due west, the sunset frames those mountains into perfect view, now so distinct as to appear to be just a short distance away. There’s something just a little bit magical about that: sitting on our balcony watching something becoming crystal clear which is not only invisible during daylight but also over 40 miles away, is extraordinary. We could live here for ever and still love that. Is that simplistic? Seems very special to us.

As well as the lockdown developments at home, news of the awful Izmir earthquake also filters through as we settle in to our Side apartment. Watching the unfolding scenes on Turkish TV is an eerie sensation, knowing we were amongst those very buildings just a few short weeks ago, even recognising some of the areas in the middle of the disaster area. We make contact with the friends we made back in Selcuk; they are safe, thank goodness. But it is clear that not everyone has been so lucky and sadly the death toll is rising.

Chatting with locals here, there is much care for their compatriots in Izmir. Compassion and care seems to us to be an intrinsic part of the Turkish character, we already have a stock of stories which we may post later.

In the meantime, we continue to settle in to Turkish life, the sun continues to shine, we are swimming in the sea in November for probably the first time in our lives, the food is fantastic and life is peaceful.

Of course, there are looming issues about getting back to the UK, but for now our life is very calm.

Road Trips From Side

As we continue to enjoy our time in Side, the details surrounding our eventual return home don’t get any clearer, as our flight home has been cancelled again due to the second lockdown back home in England. The latest position is that we now have a flight booked for December 5th, but whether that actually happens is another matter altogether.

Exploring our temporary home we collect a hire car for a few days and get out and about to widen our knowledge. Our first road trip takes us to the so called Green Canyon, up in the mountains closer to the source of the Manavgat river and at the far end of a large lake which has been formed by the building of the Oymapinar Dam.

The dam itself is a spectacular sight, loftily forging a barrier at a point where the canyon is dramatically high and narrow. Viewed from the nearby road bridge the dam and its giant sluices are an impressive feat of engineering.

Past the dam, the road to the Green Canyon steadily deteriorates from a potholed lane to a tight rutted track better suited to 4x4s until eventually reaching a dead end at a lakeside restaurant. Both the restaurant and the attendant boats clearly exist purely for group tourist trips from the resorts, so after the great drive through wonderful landscapes and the splendid views of the dam, it’s a bit of an anti-climax.

But the subsequent drive around villages nestled in the foothills of the mountains, through vast areas of fruit farms and covered banana plantations, punctuated with stops at villages all but untouched by the modern world, soon make up for our disappointment. You cannot help but be a little thrown by what you see here: rustic unchanged villages where farm workers in humble surroundings work the fields with primitive equipment, all just a stone’s throw from the high rise hotels and tourist trade which line the coast a few miles away. The contrast in lifestyles is truly startling.

Hidden in these foothills are the ruins of another ancient city, on all of the maps as Seleukeia but according to the history books was actually named Lyrbe. We had read a website which described Lyrbe as the area’s great undiscovered relic – though of course it’s hardly “undiscovered” if it’s on the internet! But, as we approach the site the only way you can – up a tiny twisting shale road which works its way slowly up the steep climb – we see exactly what was meant by that description.

Lyrbe is truly stunning, remarkably well preserved buildings scattered over a large area of overgrown hillside, hidden amongst pines and boldly looking towards the coast. In terms of visitor interaction, there is nothing but a few signs (very informative though), thus making it an even more enthralling place. Difficult to get to, hidden in the woods, untouched by tourism, the tag “undiscovered” is not altogether inaccurate. Lyrbe is one haunting place.

The Road To Alanya

Our second road trip from Side takes us further along the D400 coast road to what will most likely be our most easterly destination, the large town of Alanya.

Alanya is just over 60 kilometres from Side, and like our previous Turquoise Coast drives along the D400, the views of the beautiful blue Mediterranean are fantastic. But the drive is noteworthy for another reason too; most of the second half of the journey takes us through an incredible run of gigantic resort hotels. These places are mind boggling, colossal hulking buildings shoulder to shoulder for mile upon mile; for us, the unacceptable face of mass tourism. Their appearance ranges from mock Russian architecture complete with golden domes to giant pretend cruise liners, and with all manner of other creations in between. But my God they are big places.

After that, our arrival in Alanya is a pleasant relief as, despite its obvious status as a tourist trap, the town is pleasing on the eye. The long golden Cleopatra Beach and deep blue sea make for a very attractive seafront.

The main attraction here though is the incredibly spectacular castle which occupies the entire headland halfway along the seafront and effectively splits the waterfront in two. Much of the outer protective wall remains, making it obvious why this castle, with rugged cliffs and the sea on three sides and a narrow and steep hillside on the other, was pretty much impregnable. These days you can reach it via cable car from Cleopatra Beach.

Captured and enhanced by the enterprising and wonderfully named Aladdin Keykubad, the citadel inside the 4 miles of clifftop walls is fascinating and visually stunning, with beautiful buildings from different eras making it easy to lose yourself in the history of this enclosed and protected city, the first bastion of the Seljuk Turks after taking Alanya from the Ottomans.

The largest remaining tower from the city walls, Kizil Kule (the Red Tower), stands proud above the harbour as if still protecting Alanya from invasion. Beneath this tower lies a breathtaking relic of ancient times. Keykubad built here, below the citadel and into the cliffs, a shipyard capable of building and repairing ships out of sight of suitors or plunderers. The remaining arched recesses, still majestically intact 800 years after their construction, are again fascinating and well worth the small entrance fee.

Keykabud built two such places, the other on the Black Sea, earning him the moniker Sultan Of The Two Seas. Just how much of his Alanya creation is still standing is incredible.

We wander around the town and enjoy a decent late lunch before heading back past those giant hotels. There are enough clues here to see that Alanya is a holiday party town in a normal high season, and we are glad to have visited here in quieter times rather than during noisy revelry.

These giant hotels must mean tens of thousands of “invaders” descend on this coast every summer within reach of a castle built to prevent invasion which has stood for centuries. And whilst those invaders disappear into their 5-star all-inclusive world every evening, farm workers toil to earn a meagre living in the fields just behind them. Two road trips, so many conundrums.

Roman History In Aspendos And Köprülü

Our third and final road trip out of Side in this current hire car session takes us to the wonderful sights of Aspendos and Köprülü Kanyon and turns out to be the best of the three great trips.

Earlier on in this trip somebody said to us that the whole of Turkey is simply one massive museum with an absolute wealth of history, and the fact that you can, if you wish, buy a nationwide ticket which gains entry to over 350 such places sort of proves the point. Even we aren’t here long enough to do that!

You’d think we might have tired of these sites (can you ever tire of exploring history? Not really!) as we head off towards Aspendos today, yet once again we are blown away by what we see. The central part of what is now Antalya province was once known as Pamphilia, which roughly translates as “land of all tribes”, within which Aspendos was the largest city with as many as 20,000 inhabitants.

In accordance with its name, Aspendos was an amalgam of different peoples until, as with most of these Anatolian cities, it became absorbed into the Roman Empire as that empire expanded, and as always is the case was significantly enhanced by Roman occupation. The remains of the upper, more wealthy, part of the city sit high on a rocky hill above the fertile plains below and boast amazing ruins, the best of which are among the most spectacular we’ve seen.

According to its publicity, the huge Roman theatre at Aspendos is the best preserved of its type in the entire world, a claim borne out by how much of the frontage (the scaena) remains intact, including carvings and ornate decorations. In truth, our “friend” from Alanya, Aladdin Keykubad, poured some of his vast wealth into restoration in the 13th century, and further restoration has clearly been carried out in more recent times, but none of this detracts from its magnificence.

The second wonderful sight at Aspendos hits us as we explore the other awesome remains on the top of the hill. Beyond the basilica, behind the agora, we turn a corner and both simply go “wow” out loud. There, stretching right across the valley below, are the unbelievably sturdy remains of what must have been a colossal Roman aqueduct, carrying essential water supplies from the mountain springs and cisterns down to the larger population below.

Spanning an incredible 19 kilometres, this aqueduct shifted 5,600 cubic metres of water per day, dropping at a gradient of 2.6%. Some of the remaining archways stand 30 metres high – and there are plenty of them still standing, 29 in the main stretch alone. It’s a fabulous sight close up, even better from above where we get a terrific perception of just what a feat of engineering it was.

Heading north from Aspendos towards Köprülü Kanyon, still wowing over what we’ve seen, we spot a small restaurant lodged on a veranda between road and river, and our serendipitous day strikes again as we pull in and ask the guy if he has “alabalik”, Turkish for trout. He nods, heads off to the riverbank, hooks two trout from his holding net in the rushing waters, and hands them to his wife standing ready at the wood fire grill. Well, you can’t get much fresher than that!

It is, of course, delicious, and so is every item of the accompanying salad and vegetables, all tasting as if freshly picked just this morning. As we eat, inflatable rafts race past – the Kopru River is big white water rafting country – and kingfishers and wagtails flit across the waters.

From here we complete our drive to Köprülü Kanyon, and we aren’t disappointed. “Köprülü” translates as “having a bridge”, but this is no ordinary bridge, being another relic from Roman times, crossing this incredible gorge at its narrowest point. Amazingly it is still in use, just wide enough for one car, and forms the turning point at the end of the canyon road.

If the bridge is impressive, then the gorge itself is utterly beautiful. The river waters are both crystal clear and a shade of turquoise; the foliage a hundred shades of green; the rocky sides soar dramatically up from the river.

And then we get lucky again as we are approached by a guy who has an inflatable dinghy way below on the river, and offers to take us upstream to the waterfall. He wants a fee – of course he does – but this is just too good a chance to miss, and so a bit of price haggling later we have clambered over the rocks and dived into his “boat”.

Improbably, he paddles us single handed, and single oared, against the mighty currents of the gushing river, through the most spectacular scenery. Foaming water spews from fissures and gaps in the rocks, moss hangs in huge clumps, the sounds and smells of mountain river fill the air. The three of us and our dinghy are dwarfed by nature here; the canyon is immense and the waters are powerful. It’s exhilarating.

It’s also exhausting for our boatman, pushing upstream against the currents. Once we are at the largest of the cascades though, he is able to turn the dinghy around, relax, breathe a sigh, and let the river carry us back, only needing occasionally to fend off the rock walls with the oar in order to maintain direction. The whole event lasts around forty minutes from beginning to end, but the experience is both timeless and priceless.

There is still time for one more surprise on our lucky day as we stop briefly in a small village and are handed some freshly picked oranges by a smiling farmer who seems proud to share his produce with us strangers.

Driving back to Side, first alongside the river and then across densely farmed agricultural land, we glow with pleasure at how this great day has unfolded. No matter how well travelled you are, days like today only crop up now and again, but, when they do, you grab them with both hands. They are, for us, the essence of travel.

Manavgat, Markets & Moggies

Life is relaxed here in southern Turkey, and we feel lucky to have managed so much time away in this ravaged year. We continue to embrace our new surroundings.

Tuesday 10th November marks something of a milestone for us as it’s our 50th day in Turkey, making it our longest continuous stretch outside the UK so far.

As we prepare for our Tuesday and look out across the rooftops to the sea, the air is suddenly and unexpectedly filled with the sound of police sirens, not a common sound in Side, and we are a little puzzled as to what might be going on. A few minutes later, crossing the boulevard on our way to breakfast, we notice that the huge Turkish flag which flies above the traffic island, is hanging limply at half mast.

At first we don’t connect the two, but it transpires that today is Ataturk Memorial Day, remembering the Republic’s founding father, who died on this day in 1938. Throughout Turkey, even in the biggest cities, at precisely 9.05am, traffic comes to a standstill, people stop in their tracks and observe a minute’s remembrance. Emergency vehicles sound their sirens in their own tribute. And so it all falls into place.

There is something hugely edifying about the fact that it’s almost the middle of November and we’re still in T shirts and shorts and taking a dip in the sea most days, even though the locals consider it to be winter now that the daily temperature has dropped to about 25-27. To be fair, the mornings and evenings are now quite a bit cooler, which means that about 4pm each day you will see visitors dressed like us sharing the pavement with locals in puffa jackets and hoodies.

Our quiet neighbourhood just a short walk from the tourist areas gives us all we need in terms of daily life: local restaurants with good food at low prices, local shops for topping up on essentials, a butcher, ATMs and even a decent ladies’ hairdresser (which according to Michaela is a godsend!).

Side does lack a decent market, the weekly Saturday affair being nothing more than a second outlet for the tourist trap shops in the old town; they even advertise their prices in euros. Fortunately though, there is a very different, terrific food market in neighbouring Manavgat, which is where we’re sourcing our provisions for home cooking at very low prices.

Prices are so low in fact that, if your chosen quantity of, say, tomatoes, falls a few kurus short of a lira, you will be given an extra tomato or two, instead of change. Bearing in mind it’s now over 10 lira to the £, that’s not so bad an option.

Manavgat has seriously won us over and we are both agreed that we would be comfortable living in the town for an extended time. It’s a larger town and therefore has all amenities; it’s also a very well designed town with plenty of parks, gardens and green spaces, and is a transport hub with buses to all destinations within Turkey.

But Manavgat’s crowning glory is the riverfront. Sipping beer in the cafes alongside the deep green coloured river, feeling the warm sun and watching people and cats, is very relaxing: perhaps a little too relaxing, as we end up losing at least a couple of hours here after each market trip.

Cats are, by the way, everywhere in Turkey, just about all of them in good condition and most of them adorable, especially the kittens. The cats enjoy an odd relationship with humans here; most of the cats don’t have a home and live outdoors, indeed the locals call them “street cats”, but are fed and cared for (and loved) by everyone: you will regularly see communal feeding stations. As a consequence they are all well groomed cats with silky coats, without having lost the guile to know where their next meal will come from.

Back in Selcuk, the townsfolk had even clubbed together to pay for a permanent cat vet, armed with a brand new cat ambulance!

The fact that Turkish people love cats is a clue to their character; Turks are a caring, thoughtful race eager to help anyone anytime. We have witnessed many examples.

One way and another, Turkey continues to make us feel at home.

Making Roots And Planning Routes

It’s fair to say that we’re getting a bit restless. Here in Side it’s a little bit like becoming becalmed at sea, eager to press on with this voyage and even more eager to make more voyages in the future.

Settling into a single place for an extended stay was always on our agenda, but probably not for several years yet. It’s an experience we’ve added to our repertoire rather earlier than intended, but then our travel in 2020 has been a very different shape from the original picture.

Until COVID intervened and blew our plans apart, our intention after retiring last Christmas was to travel for around four months at a time, returning to the UK in between each trip for a quick catch up with friends and family. It didn’t quite work out that way of course, although we do think we’ve been resourceful enough to make the most of this unique year, even though it felt like losing a long held dream to begin with.

Our original outline plan for 2020/1 looked something like this.

January to May: South East Asia.

June to October: Around the Med (France, Spain, Gibraltar, Tunisia, Morocco, Turkey, Georgia, Azerbaijan)

Next trips, in no particular order:

South Africa, Namibia, Mozambique.

Argentina, Brazil.

Follow the route of the original Orient Express.

But due to this odd year, it ended up being:

January to March: South East Asia – THAILAND was fabulous (our time in the tribal village of NONGTAO utterly memorable), LAOS was amazing (NONG KHIAW among our most beautiful places visited so far), but VIETNAM was where COVID struck and we had the dramatic escape home as the borders closed – read about that HERE.

March to June – Lockdown in the UK.

July, August – 5 weeks touring CROATIA.

September 22nd until now – TURKEY.

So despite the first year of our travels turning out to be the year of major restrictions on movement, we have made the most of it and, by the time we return to the UK, will have spent around 160 days of the year out of the country. Destinations have been unplanned, and governed by the UK’s “travel corridors” and nations’ own restrictions rather than our own freedom of choice, the plus side being that we’ve visited some terrific places which we would not otherwise have seen.

There remains dozens of unfulfilled ambitions on our travel wish list. Living in one place for several weeks (months, even) was one of them – one we’ve done a bit earlier than intended.

And our conclusion is: we know we will want to have an extended stay again one day, but, for now, the wanderlust is creeping in and we’re feeling restless!

Side & Manavgat: Mosques, History & The Modern World

Each day, the first haunting call from the muezzin sounds out around first light, greeting the day alongside the crowing of cockerels and, sometimes, the clanging of binmen emptying the communal rubbish bins in the street outside.

We’ve been to places where the Muslim faith has seemed to be much stronger than it is in this part of Turkey, maybe westernisation has had an effect, but there is no doubting the evocative nature of the sound of the call to prayer, which still stirs us even after 8 weeks here. And with the daylight hours reducing, the muezzins’ calls become that bit more regular.

Despite the apparent moderation of diligence of prayer, the mosques at both Side and Manavgat are splendid, particularly the latter, grand and ornate even in the interior where mosques are commonly fairly plain.

After putting it off several times we finally visit Side museum, which is mostly open air in a glorious position overlooking the deep blue Med. With so many wonderful relics simply dotted around town, this museum would need to produce something special – or at least different. Its best shots at this are the skeletal remains encased in tombs; a large selection of tooling ranging from surgical implements to water jugs; and sizeable sections of the Nike statues which once headed the gates to the city. Nike was the symbol of victory; its presence on city gates therefore a statement of defiance to any would be predators.

We also learn that Side was once at the southern end of a 333-mile Roman road, leading all the way here from Bergama (Pergamon), way north of Izmir. They were pretty good at that kind of thing, those Romans.

Daytimes are still very warm here, but as the sun goes down, so too does the mercury. There is a chill to the evenings. It’s clear too that this COVID ravaged tourist season is drawing to a close, and some restaurants are calling it a day and putting up the shutters, others opening only for lunch.

Our evening meals here have been mostly away from the tourist area and more in our own, more local, neighbourhood, but we decide to venture down to an inviting bar where we’ve had a couple of daytime beers. To our delight, Side House is even more inviting after dark. Just around the corner we find Radika, a fish restaurant with live music, fun staff, and great house wine.

This is probably our second best fish house of the entire trip, after Ucagiz, but both the evening and the atmosphere are terrific, although this opinion may just be being swayed by the heady combination of Efes, house wine and raki.

Oh, and the fish was fantastic.

One Night In Alanya

View of Taurus Mountains from Alanya Harbour

For us one of the joys of long term travel is that “time to move on” feeling, when we pack up our backpacks, say goodbye to one place and prepare to explore the next one. As we’ve said before, it’s good to move on while you still love a place; that mixed feeling of wondering if you’re leaving too soon coupled with the excitement of a new destination, is a heady feeling and is one of the real buzzes of travel.

And we’ve missed that feeling during our extended stay in Side. True, we have always wanted to experience a long stay in one place too, but it’s come earlier than we intended and, whilst we’ve enjoyed the experience as much as we had hoped we would, we’ve also missed the buzz of reloading the backpacks and heading off to somewhere new.

Consequently we decide this week to have a quick “holiday” from our airbnb apartment in Side and decamp to Alanya for a couple of days. Whilst it means we’ve paid for two beds on the same night, prices are so reasonable here that it doesn’t really challenge the budget too much.

So we pack light in day bags only, leave the rest of our stuff in Side, and head off in our newly acquired hire car back down the D400. Seems like a great idea until we enter our Alanya room, which is almost exactly nothing like the description on agoda. “Family run” it says, without saying the family are miserable; our “suite” isn’t in the hotel, it’s a ground floor flat in a block of flats down the hill; the “suite” smells like no one’s been in it for months; the bathroom smells of stagnant water; the wifi doesn’t work. Ah well, it’s only for one night, we say, quietly wondering why on Earth we’ve left our lovely apartment in Side an hour down the road.

One of many cat feeding stations in Alanya Parks

But of course, it IS only for one night, and the night, it turns out, is great. The first draught beer in, literally, weeks…great little restaurant on the seafront…excellent tasty food…..lots of laughs….including seeing the funny side of exchanging our lovely apartment for this oddball “suite”. We have a really good night out.

En route to Alanya, we call in at the remarkable location of Alara Han. “Han” is Turkish for “inn”; Alara was a stopover for the caravanserai on the ancient Silk Route, built yet again by the influential Seljuk Turk, Aladdin Keykubad II, and, judging by its size, must have been an absolute hive of activity. Alara Han sits by the river in the shadow of the surrounding mountains, and even now is a huge construction. How must it have felt for those nomadic traders, travelling thousands of miles by camel along the Silk Route, to stop off here to drink, eat and socialise, everyone with a common aim, yet miles from anywhere and certainly miles from home, and from their destination. The convivial spirit must have been amazing.

Above the Han is Alara Castle, right at the top of a pyramid shaped crag. For a while we defy the “dangerous and forbidden” signs in an attempt to reach the castle, but when confronted by pitch-dark vertical-climb tunnels up through the rock, we concede defeat.

In Alanya itself, as well as our boozy night out, we find Dalmartas Cave, with its incredible display of stalactites and stalagmites. The cave is small, but packed with crazy rock formations, and with an atmosphere all of its own: at a constant 23.6 degrees, 98% humidity and oppressive air pressure, it is apparently the perfect antidote for asthma sufferers, some of whom sit for up to 4 hours simply breathing in the air.

As we saw on our first visit, Alanya is obviously a big holiday party town in a normal season; now, the night clubs and the pirate boats sit silent and idle, the road train gathers dust in its lay by, lonely shopkeepers idly drink chai. It’s not just the end of the season, it’s the end of a disastrous season. We feel for these guys, their living has been taken away from them this year.

We drive back along the D400 as the skies darken and the rain starts to fall. Winter is arriving. Those guys have no chance of saving this lost season now.

COVID: How Quickly Things Change

All of a sudden our Turkish adventure is coming to an end and we are now travelling back to England on Monday.

As we headed off to Alanya this week, news was breaking that the Turkish Government were about to announce increased COVID restrictions, although at that stage all of the talk surrounded weekend closures. When the announcement came, the measures were much more far reaching, with an indefinite closure of all bars and restaurants and heavily restricted opening times for all other outlets including food shops.

At the same time an 8pm curfew comes in and, although the curfew, rather counter intuitively, doesn’t apply to tourists, it’s clear that pretty much everything will be closed before 8pm and there will be little for us to do.

With these new rules seemingly in place until at least the end of the year, and with the distinct possibility that further rules may be introduced in the interim, we’ve decided it’s in our best interests to call it a day and head back to the UK. So the 10 days we had planned to stay in Antalya to finish this adventure have been dropped and replaced by 14 days quarantine at home.

By no means are we too disappointed by this turn of events: we feel we got incredibly lucky to have had our time away in Croatia and Turkey, and our extended 9-week stay in Turkey has been terrific throughout.

It’s a shame that we won’t be able to say goodbye to new found friends who have already shut down their businesses in the light of recent developments, but other than that our focus is on hoping the journey home (Antalya-Istanbul-Heathrow) goes without hitch.

Turkey has been great, and we’ve visited many wonderful places which were nowhere near our original plan for 2020.

Let’s see what 2021 brings…..

From Turkey To Quarantine

And so we start our 14 day quarantine which will most likely run straight into a period of further regional lockdown given the high current COVID rates in our corner of England.

We’re a little sad that the Turkey adventure ended the way it did, with our time in Antalya cancelled and an abrupt end to our newly found social life in Side. In the final three days after making our decision to return home, we did manage one last trip to our favourite riverside eatery in Manavgat before it all shut down, and even managed a quick dip in the Med on each of the last two days.

So our last travel beer of 2020 was a couple of pints of draught Efes at Istanbul Airport and our much changed travel year is over.

Of course, it’s always nice to get home, but our wanderlust is burgeoning, rather than waning, with each adventure. So far there is absolutely nothing we dislike about long term travel; the long held dream is proving to be even more wonderful than we imagined and we look forward now to whatever our next adventures will be.

Longer term travel may not be for everyone, particularly in retirement, but for us, every element is a joy. The obvious pluses of good weather, exotic locations, wonderful sights, breathtaking scenery, new experiences, are the elements which we would all expect to enjoy, but for us, we also enjoy the more mundane challenges such as controlling the budget, travel logistics, laundry and clothing issues, learning to shop like a local.

And then, of course, there’s the food. Trying new foods and exploring different cuisines is one of our major motivations for travel; it really is that much of a pleasure. Turkey has entered our top three food destinations so far, alongside Thailand and Mexico.

In the end we managed a total of 148 days out of the country this year, and slept in 30 different beds in 27 different locations, not counting overnight flights. We sampled 23 different beers and climbed 9 mountains, and over our three trips we walked 1,054 miles at an average of 7.12 miles per day. We used 22 different types of transport and watched 10 cracking thunder storms. Among our “firsts” were kayaking, spelunking and hot air ballooning.

We all know that this year has been unique in every way, not just for globetrotters, but we now know for certain that our decision to retire and commit to extended travel was absolutely the right move for us. We are, by site name, hungry travellers. 2020, in spite of all of its horrors, has left us hungry for more. Much more.

Hamam’ing It Up

If you haven’t visited a hamam on a visit to Turkey then you have missed out on this centuries old tradition which the people of this colourful country still enjoy today. The truly traditional dome roofed hamams are fewer in number these days, simply because they date from times before most of the population had running water at home, but there is still a good deal of choice.

Whether you go for a rustic hamam in a dingy building hidden down an alleyway where you are laid out on a marble floor, a more sumptuous spa where you have the luxury of a raised marble plinth, or any of the other types of hamam in between, you really need to experience this time honoured ceremony. It’s invigorating, energising and relaxing all at the same time.

Just outside the ancient Agora in Izmir we spotted the unmistakable domes of a traditional hamam building and made it our first one of this trip. Entering a large private changing room, Phil, in preparation, dons the traditional checked towel and more boringly for me a bikini. We are ushered into the sauna to ease the dirt of the city from our skin before being led into the hamam. Laid out on the marble, the “peeling” began, being scrubbed head to toe with a rough glove, almost hurts but not quite (not an experience you would like if you had sunburn) and just when you think you can’t take any more, the ceremony moves on. A supersoft pillowcase-like pouch is dipped into water, a bar of olive soap added then shaken and the contents emptied on top of you. This is the most amazing feeling, the bubbles a foot high melting around you as if enveloping you in a cloud before luxuriating in a massage with the bubbles and a soft cloth. We left that hamam tingling from top to toe and extremely relaxed and all for the small sum of about £5 each. Bargain!

In Selcuk we visited a second hamam, which seemed to have been recently refurbished and felt a little more touristy, its staff a little pushy on selling other treatments and we let ourselves get talked into a body mud pack and an oil massage. The sauna followed by the hamam peeling and foam massage was lovely again, albeit a bit rushed but the mud pack felt a bit pointless in the humidity and steam as it didn’t get chance to dry out on the body and just dripped away leaving you lying in a muddy puddle. Not the best or most authentic experience here, very expensive for what it was at £30 each, wouldn’t go there again!

After settling in Side, we saw no sign of the traditional looking hamam with the dome so instead chose the “Sultan” hamam which looked more rustic than the others in town some of which resembled those in spa hotels. We opted for the basic deal plus a 30 minute rose oil massage. This happened to be the best hamam experience so far. No sauna to start, the peeling the most savage yet, almost hurting but oh so stimulating. The olive foam massage is sublime. Then chill out time and chai followed by a mud pack painted on our faces with a brush. The oil massage followed, our male masseurs’ hands firm and probing but never overbearing.

That massage at “Sultan” was up there with our best anywhere, not just in Turkey. It was such a wonderful feeling. Skin tingling, faces glowing we emerged into the chill of the evening air and the orange glow of sunset, happy and content. At just £18 each for this 90 minutes of indulgence we immediately said we would definitely be visiting here again!

In fact we did exactly that, and enjoyed a second treat at “Sultan”. Our plan then was to visit an old traditional hamam in Antalya which is said to be still heated by wood burning, which would have been terrific. However, our sudden change of plan, forced by COVID restrictions to fly back to England early not only dropped Antalya from our itinerary but also deprived us of one last hamam indulgence. Oh well, there’ll be a next time.

6 Comments

cengizselcuk00

April 4, 2021 at 8:48 pm Reply

Come on!

I live in Turkey. I could not travel like this.🙈

The best travel notes😎

Best wishes

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- Phil & Michaela
  
  April 4, 2021 at 8:50 pm Reply
  
  Oh man we love Turkey, where in Turkey do you live?
  
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  - cengizselcuk00
    
    April 4, 2021 at 8:55 pm Reply
    
    İstanbul🎻
    
    You know Turkey is bigger than this. Maybe one day visit to Other cities. However world is small. We met somewhere.
    
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    - Phil & Michaela
      
      April 4, 2021 at 8:56 pm Reply
      
      We have been to Istanbul as well. You are a chef, yes?
      
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      - cengizselcuk00
        
        April 4, 2021 at 8:58 pm
        
        No, I am a accountant. From Kitchen course 🙂
        
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      - Phil & Michaela
        
        April 4, 2021 at 9:02 pm
        
        We will meet you when we come back to Istanbul!
        
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Merchants, Mosques & Masks: 3 Days In Izmir

Leaving Izmir, Loving Selcuk

The Cotton Castle Of Pamukkale

Pamukkale: Ancient Cities In Modern Times

Last Day in Pamukkale And The Wishlist Ticked

Destination Dalyan

From Dalyan To Kas: Along The Turquoise Coast

Kas: Sunken Cities, Sarcophagi…And Santa

Cirali: Cool Bars & Hot Rocks

From Cirali To Side: Phase 2 Begins

The Evolving History of Side

Living In Side Turkey

Road Trips From Side

The Road To Alanya

Roman History In Aspendos And Köprülü

Manavgat, Markets & Moggies

Making Roots And Planning Routes

Side & Manavgat: Mosques, History & The Modern World

One Night In Alanya

COVID: How Quickly Things Change

From Turkey To Quarantine

Hamam’ing It Up

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6 Comments

cengizselcuk00

Phil & Michaela

cengizselcuk00

Phil & Michaela

cengizselcuk00

Phil & Michaela

We’d love to hear from youCancel reply

Merchants, Mosques & Masks: 3 Days In Izmir

Leaving Izmir, Loving Selcuk

The Cotton Castle Of Pamukkale

Pamukkale: Ancient Cities In Modern Times

Last Day in Pamukkale And The Wishlist Ticked

Destination Dalyan

From Dalyan To Kas: Along The Turquoise Coast

Kas: Sunken Cities, Sarcophagi…And Santa

Cirali: Cool Bars & Hot Rocks

From Cirali To Side: Phase 2 Begins

The Evolving History of Side

Living In Side Turkey

Road Trips From Side

The Road To Alanya

Roman History In Aspendos And Köprülü

Manavgat, Markets & Moggies

Making Roots And Planning Routes

Side & Manavgat: Mosques, History & The Modern World

One Night In Alanya

COVID: How Quickly Things Change

From Turkey To Quarantine

Hamam’ing It Up

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Like this:

6 Comments

cengizselcuk00

Phil & Michaela

cengizselcuk00

Phil & Michaela

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Phil & Michaela

We’d love to hear from youCancel reply