Turkey 2
Journal kept by Susan Hanes during a trip around Turkey from September 17– October 19, 2007. Photos by Susan Hanes and George Leonard, copyright 2007. Volume 2. Cover: Akadamar Armenian Church, detail
Turkey September 17-October 19, 2007
A continuation of Jake’s solo travels to eastern Turkey, and our subsequent meeting in Gaziantep where we continued our travels west together.
Volume 2
Saturday, September 29
to Midyat
Jake was up early for his trip to Akdamar Island on Lake Van to see its Armenian church. After driving 40 kilometers he took an unpaved road to a small harbor where several charter tour boats were waiting. As it was already 8:30, he was surprised that none of boats appeared occupied. However, when he found a boat that had its captain aboard, he was unsuccessful in his attempt to negotiate the fare that the guidebooks indicated was appropriate. Although the lake was calm, the narrow boat was surprisingly unstable. After a 20-minute trip to the island, the boat waited for him as he made his way to the church on a recently constructed path. The 10th century church is small but the relief carvings on its exterior walls are among the masterworks of Armenian art. Well-preserved carvings of biblical and historical figures cover the building: Adam and Eve, David and Goliath, Abraham and Isaac. Jake found them fascinating and took lots of pictures. He stayed about an hour before the boat returned him to shore.
Akdamar Island
As it was still early, he decided to drive north to Ahlat along the western side of the lake, a 140-kilometer roundtrip extension of his planned itinerary. Near Ahlat he visited three Seljuk tombs and a large Seljuk cemetery, with 11th through 16th century headstones covered with lichen and standing at all angles. As he started to walk among the slabs, two children joined him and, through gestures, indicated that the cemetery was teeming with snakes. Accordingly, Jake was dissuaded from exploring further. He returned to the main road, retraced his route along Lake Van, and proceeded south and west to Tatvan and on to Bitlis. The roads were poor but the scenery was dramatic. He arrived in Batman at 4:00 and promptly got lost among its congested streets. Seeking directions, he found a man who agreed to get in the car and direct him to Midyat. Because he had no smaller bills, he unfortunately had to tip him 20 YTL for fifteen minutes of assistance. At dusk, he found his four-star hotel five kilometers beyond Midyat. He had dinner at the hotel with a German tour group and retired early.
Ahlat Seljuk Cemetery
Sunday, September 30
to Mardin
After checking out, Jake drove east 18 kilometers south to Mor Gabriel, the oldest functioning Syrian Catholic monastery. Dating from 397, it is situated on a flat, arid plain. He arrived just before 9:00 and found the gate locked. Peering through it, he could see a well-maintained road lined with olive trees. As it was Sunday, he was concerned that the complex might not be open to visitors but a short time later a car with two young men came up the road and unlocked the gate. He followed them into the complex and parked. People were gathered outside the monastery walls around an older man in clerical garb, who was probably the bishop. Apparently, Sunday services had just ended. A young monk approached Jake and offered to take him through the monastery. For 45 minutes, he led Jake through a series of clean and well-maintained buildings. It was obvious that substantial donations had been received to enable the monastery to be kept in such good condition. However, extensive restoration had diminished the charm of the complex and no architectural or sculptural details really stood out. The young man refused a tip, but welcomed a contribution to the monastery. As he was leaving, Jake met an elder who greeted him and upon hearing that he was from Chicago, told him that his daughter had studied at the University of Wisconsin and continued to live in Madison.
Mor Gabriel
Jake returned to Midyat and spent an hour or so exploring the city. Traveling north from Midyat, he drove to the 5th century monastic church of Meryemanna, noted for its wedding cake turret. He walked around the partially restored but unoccupied buildings and was about to leave when a man pointed him towards the ruins of Mor Bacchus, a ruined 2nd century church only 100 meters away.
Meryemanna
Mor Bacchus
Later he drove towards Mardin and visited the Saffron Monastery, set in rocky hills just east of Mardin. The monastery had three monks in residence who served as caretakers but, as at Mor Gabriel, it was very well maintained and had a nice cafÊ and gift shop. He enjoyed touring the monastery and walking the landscaped grounds but unfortunately the church was being restored and was therefore closed to visitors. He continued into Mardin, a city of 55,000 situated on the side of a hill, and found the Erdoba Konaklari Hotel. He checked in and then descended over 80 steps down a tortuous 150-meter path to an old door. Inside Jake was shown to his room in a 150-year-old building with a courtyard featuring an outstanding view extending over the nearby plains of Syria. His room was very attractive, with a high domed ceiling and sculptured niches in the walls. After exploring his surroundings, he returned to the main hotel building and then walked down the main street to locate the restaurant where he had made dinner reservations. Cercis Murat Konagi is a Syrian Christian restaurant, considered one of Turkey’s best (Prince Charles ate there). He dressed and returned to the restaurant at 7:00, full of anticipation, but was somewhat disappointed, perhaps due to inflated expectations. Walking back to the hotel, he was glad he had brought along a flashlight to help him negotiate the path back to his room. However, there were technological challenges in store: he was unable, despite significant effort, to turn off any of the room lights, which unfortunately were much brighter than those normally encountered in Turkish hotels. The lights remained on all night.
Saffron Monastery
Mardin
Monday, October 1
to Sanliurfa
In addition to the problems of the night before, Jake was unable to get any hot water for his morning shower. He had breakfast alone in the main hotel building in an interesting subterranean room. Dragging his bags up the long path from his room, he checked out and got underway towards Sanliurfa. Roads were flat and good condition. He passed a number of fields where people were manually picking cotton. Jake arrived in Sanliurfa about 11:30 and attempted to find his hotel using an underground bridge and a mosque as landmarks. Fortuitously, he found a sign on a side street directing him to the hotel, dropped off his bag and went out to explore the fundamentalist and Kurdish dominated pilgrimage city of half a million, where Abraham, who is much revered by Muslims, once lived.
He walked to the Golbasi area where two rectangular pools were teeming with carp. Legend maintains that anyone catching one of the carp will go blind. The area is beautifully landscaped with numerous cafes and outdoor restaurants. The nearby Rizvaniye mosque has a beautiful arcaded wall. The adjacent 13th century Halilur Rahman mosque was the site where Abraham was said to have fallen on a bed of roses after being thrown from the heights of the citadel on the orders of a tyrant king. Vendors sell food to feed the carp that surge to the surface even when an empty hand is waved near the water. Jake chose not to visit the caves of Abraham and returned to his room to discover that a band playing traditional Turkish music was setting up on the terrace roof not ten feet from his window. When he went down for dinner at 7:30 he found that the roof restaurant was completely filled and he was relegated to the sparsely filled courtyard. Several dinner parties were in progress in separate private rooms off the courtyard where diners were seated on the floor and their shoes were lined up outside. After a dinner that was not particularly memorable, he went back to his room to get his recorder with the intention of recording the band, only to find when he returned that they were just completing their set.
Tuesday, October 2
to Gaziantep — Jake
Jake drove towards Gaziantep (pop. 1,100,000), again finding good roads. Upon reaching Gaziantep he turned south to Harran, where Abraham had once lived. The town is one of the oldest continuously inhabited spots on earth and is mentioned in Genesis. Harran is also noted for its ruined Crusader fortress and its “beehive� houses, the design of which dates back to the 3rd century BC. Jake had also read that the children of the town were known for aggressively demanding money and was wary of walking around. He chose to see the fortress and the houses from his car.
Harran
He returned to Gaziantep and after an hour of searching for the hotel sought help from bystanders, one of whom undertook to call the hotel for directions. Five minutes later another man arrived, indicated he would accompany Jake in the car, and led him to an enclosed parking area off a narrow road. Not sure what was happening, Jake parked and followed the man through an alley to a nondescript wooden door. The door was opened by Timur (“Tim�), the owner of Andalou Evleri, the hotel that Jake was seeking. Tim disclosed that he was part Turkish and part American and had undergraduate and graduate degrees from San Francisco State University. He showed Jake to a large wood-paneled room, decorated with an eclectic collection vintage objects. Jake made arrangements with Tim for a taxi to the airport that evening so that he could pick me up on my return from Germany. Jake then set out to explore the nearby fruit and vegetable market and the metal workshops in the bazaar. There he watched men hammering copper sheets to create incised pots and bowls. At 6:15 he headed to the airport and met my flight from Istanbul. It had been a remarkable journey through eastern and southeastern Turkey but we were both eager to resume our journey together.
Tuesday, October 2
to Gaziantep — Susan An early start to a long day. Fast train from Stuttgart to Frankfurt Airport; almost missed it as I had to walk to the first car and it was a very long train. Hardly had a chance to say good by to the Starks before we pulled out of the station. The flight to Istanbul was late, resulting in a frantic attempt to get to my connecting flight to Gaziantep: 40 minutes to get through an interminable line for passport control, a long trek to the domestic terminal, security again, and a bus to the plane. Last one on the Turkish Airlines Airbus 320. Lots of kids—I watched one who did not seem to bother the people in the seats in front of him whose heads he continued to swat. Landed in Gaziantep as the sun was setting. Jake was there to meet me. Relieved to find that my bag had made the transfer as I’d had serious doubts. Long ride into town. Driving in the countryside from the airport reminded me of evenings in Karachi when I would ride out of the city center where the embassy was to a party somewhere in the suburbs. Few lights, scattered buildings. Intrigued that our hotel, Anadolu Evleri, was up some steps and fronted an alley. Door opened to a lovely courtyard surrounded by a 175-year-old stone house. Our room is entirely painted wood—ceiling, windows, and walls of built-in cabinets with vintage artifacts. Dinner around the corner at Imam Cagdas, a kebap restaurant renowned in Turkey for its pistachio baklava. Delicious dinner of meats, aubergine in yoghurt and of course, baklava. Fell into bed.
Wednesday, October 3
to Urgup
Breakfast in the courtyard—yoghurt, egg, cheese and olives and tomatocucumber salad. Taxi to Gaziantep Museum where we saw some of the most magnificent mosaics in the world, unearthed at Belkis-Zeugma, a 2nd century Roman site, before a new dam flooded it forever. Highlight was the enigmatic Gypsy Girl, all the more intriguing as only her upper face and eyes remain.
enough to get the idea and went no further exploring the seven floors beneath the earth’s surface. Can’t imagine crawling around down there for very long— and in summer with the crowds, it must be unbearable.
Drove out of the bustling city of nearly a million with no problem. I was surprised to find such an excellent road as we headed towards Adana, passing arid, rounded hills. The air was filled with choking smoke due to widespread burning in surrounding fields. Surprising to find such pollution in an area so seemingly devoid of human presence. Passed through a series of tunnels through the mountains. Jake mentioned that although gas is expensive—it cost him as much as 160 YTL ($132) to fill up—tolls are not, but they still tend to keep traffic to a minimum on these fine roads. As we passed Adana, saw fields of colorful four- and five-story dwellings painted red, blue, green and orange with contrasting trims. There were flocks of satellite TV dishes on every roof and barrels for water mounted on metal frames. After a second toll, headed north on the O-21 before Tarsus. Topography changed to more craggy peaks, thickly forested with pines; could feel our ears “pop.” The expressway ended and we found ourselves in heavy traffic as we headed towards Cappadocia. Saw cabbage pickers in the fields flanking the road. Turned towards Derinkuyu, site of an underground city in the area. Assaulted by scores of women selling handmade dolls. As we drove in I thought they looked somewhat interesting but any glance in their direction set off a heavy pursuit. Located the entrance to the caves, bought our tickets and started down. After making our way down several levels and stooping over to get through a tunnel, we decided we’d had
Continued to Urgup, passing two viewpoints. At the first, were charged 6 YTL for a view we could have had for free further down the road. At the second we joined a Japanese tour group for a look at the rock-capped peak formations that are so prevalent in Cappadocia. Our hotel in Urgup, the Esbelli Evi, is a gem. Like the houses we saw on the drive into Urgup, the buildings appear to melt into the golden hills. The bedrooms are a labyrinth of caves that were hollowed out of the rock in the 6th C. In the 19th, the common rooms were added above. Our room was the old kitchen—the cupboard had once been a giant oven! The furnishings were simple—an antique Kilim on the floor, an old iron bed, lace curtains made by the owner’s grandmother and a stone fireplace. We climbed the steps, enjoying the views from various levels. Walked down the cobblestone street, passing the Turasan Winery, for dinner on the balcony of Dimrit. Shared mezas and Jake had Testi Kebap, a stew baked in a clay pot that was broken open in front of him. An early night as our balloon trip is at sunrise!
Thursday, October 4
Urgup
Balloon Day! Woke at 3:45 am for a 5:15 pick-up by Kapadokya Balloons. Driven by van to Goreme where we were served tea and cookies. The winds were a bit tricky, necessitating several test balloons be sent up to determine our point of departure. A site was chosen and we were driven out to a field. Watched while first cold and then hot air was blown into the balloon. When it was filled and floating upright, 12 of us climbed into the basket and we were on our way, piloted by Lars, the Swedish co-owner with his English wife, Kaili. Indescribable feeling—skimming across the field and then silently floating up and over the ridge, above the lunar landscape of fairy chimneys. The only sound was the occasional whoosh as Lars forced more gas into the balloon above us. Our experience lasted two hours and then it was time to come back to earth. The wind picked up a bit so that we had what Kaili described as a “giggly landing”—we had to put our backs to the direction we were coming in, flex our knees and hold on. One … two … three big bumps and then we stopped, just shy of tipping over. We’d made it and it was wonderful! The crew appeared and packed up the balloon, placed the basket on the trailer and decorated it with leaves and flowers. Then “Cloud 9” cocktails were served—cherry juice and champagne—and we all toasted each other and our pilots Lars and Kaili.
Gรถreme National Park a UNESCO site
Back to the hotel for breakfast before our guide, Bunyamin Ozmen, met us for the first of two days’ sightseeing in the Goreme Valley. We started at the Goreme Open Air Museum. “Benjamin” gave us an historical overview and then we went through five churches, excavated by early Christians from the 10th – 13th centuries in the area’s natural caves and cones. Each was filled with beautiful frescoes. Drove to Avanos, along the banks of the Kililirmak or Red River. We stopped for lunch at the Bizim Ev, a pleasant restaurant that is apparently on the tour guides’ A List, as we ran into Bill Wulf and Anita Jones, a couple who had shared our balloon ride, and their guide. Short visit to Firca Ceramic where we looked unsuccessfully for a cooking dish like the ones we had been served at dinner. Ben next took us to the fairy chimneys—this time we could walk among them, after floating over them. Created by the effects of erosion, they exist as older and younger forms. Climbed the rough steps up to one that had been carved into a church. At Uchisar we stopped at two panoramic views of the whole Goreme Valley before dropping Ben off in Urgup. We met Bill and Anita for dinner that evening at Somine Restaurant, where we sat outside and gorged on pide, the Turkish flatbread.
Elmali Church
Yilanli Church
Dark Church
Friday, October 5
Urgup
We met Ben again this morning at 9:30 at our hotel and started the day by visiting the village of Mustafa Pasha (Sinasos), at the edge of the Soganli Valley. Its wide streets of stone houses revealed its Greek heritage. At the village center stands the Church of St. Constantine and Helena, its amazing portal decorated with multicolored grapevines. The entrance to a 14th century madrasa nearby is carved with Arabic calligraphy. Under Ben’s direction, Jake continued on the Yesihsa Road towards Soganli. We passed the village of Cemilkoy where ornately-decorated Greek houses dot the mountainside.
Keslik Monastery
A few kilometers further, Ben pointed to a turn off at a sign for Keslik Monastery. We drove up a narrow tree-lined path to the Monastery of the Archangels, consisting of two 9th century churches and a large refectory. We found colorful frescoes in both churches, preserved through the centuries by a protective coat of soot. In the process of uncovering them in the 19th century, however, those who tried to clean and preserve them instead exposed them to decades of graffiti. I saw dates from as early as 1899 scratched all over the walls, defacing the masterpieces underneath. Continuing to Soganli, we stopped to see women baking bread in a smoke-filled bakery. We went through the town of Taskinpasha, which Ben said was important for people who follow Turkish music, as iconic folksinger Refik Basharan was born and died there. The name “Basharan” means “talented one” and was given to him by Ataturk himself in the 1930s. As we drove, Ben shared with us his views of Turkish politics, expressing concern that the Islamic-based Justice and Development Party (AK) under President Abdullah Gul might not keep its promise to stick to secular principles of government. With a 47% mandate in the recent election, the party, Ben feared, will seek to persuade the uneducated population to push for a fundamentalist Islamic state.
We visited the newly-discovered archeological site at Sobesos. The area is being actively excavated and analyzed. It appears that a series of early Christian buildings and a church were built atop late Roman structures from the second half of the 4th century. A one-armed guard followed us as we teetered our way around the wall that encircled the site, trying to prevent us from taking pictures. It was interesting to see the places where clumsy blocks of stone had been built over a base of delicate geometrical mosaics. Back in the car, we ascended to a plateau where we found broad fields of wheat, potatoes and sunflowers. We saw numerous trucks hauling potatoes to storage caves carved into the sides of the plateau. Ben told us that the potato farmers are the wealthiest people in the area. The Soganli Valley itself was created by a giant fault that opened the plateau. The soft volcanic dust on both sides of the valley has been compressed into tufa—rows of rock that line the slopes. These are riddled with holes that are actually dovecotes surrounded by white limestone, designed to attract birds for their guano that is used to make fertilizer.
Sobesos Archeological Site
Dotted among these holes are numerous hidden churches, carved deep into the stone during the 10th-11th C. We visited two of them, the Snake Church and Black Head Church, both part of monastery complexes. To the left of the entrance to the Snake Church, St. George is depicted slaying a serpent, giving the church its name. In the Black Head Church a fresco of the apostles can faintly be seen. The frescoes in both churches are unfortunately soot-darkened and badly damaged. As we walked back to the car we could see two other churches across the river resembling elf houses, with carved domes jutting out of the rock.
Ben brought us for lunch to the Kapadokya, a pleasant spot shaded by apple trees. As we ate lentil soup and fresh pide and olives, we watched Ben playing backgammon nearby with a group of old men. This apparently is his regular daily practice. There was also a group of women nearby, dressed in a colorful array of skirts and chatting together as they stitched the cloth dolls that are typical of the region. I went over to get a closer look and one young woman asked me my name. When I told her, she shook my hand and said that her name was Jana. Soon all the ladies were parroting “Hey, Susie, Hey, Susie” and waving their dolls in front of me. Of course, I could not escape without buying one—I actually bought two for 10 YTL.
The next stop on the tour circuit would have been to visit an underground city
worked the seeds from the pulp into flat metal pans. Three mischievous little
but we had been to Derinkuyu and had no desire to visit another one. Ben did
boys played nearby. They were happy for me to take their pictures and made
not know quite what to do with us at that point so we turned back towards
silly faces, tried to cover the lens, and generally acted like little boys. Before
Urgup, stopping at an overlook of the Pancarlik Valley with its lonely church set
parting ways from Ben, we used him as an interpreter back in Urgup. He helped
against the rose-colored striations of the surrounding plateaus. Driving past
me to find a CD of Refik Basharan and to top off our phone. After a stop at the
several pumpkin patches, we saw people working in the fields, digging the seeds
post office for stamps, we were ready for a break back at the hotel. Later we
out of each pumpkin and apparently discarding the fruit. This seemed quite
walked down the hill to Turasan, the local winery. After tasting a nice white wine,
wasteful to us, and we were not sure that Ben’s confirmation that only the seeds
we bought two bottles and some dried apricots and ground grape seed
were used was correct. I wanted a closer look so Jake pulled down a dirt road
(supposed to be very healthy). We had dinner at Dimrit again and this time I
near one group and Ben and I made our way across a rutted field to a family
tried the Testi Kebap. The waiter asked me if I would like to crack open the pot
working together. While one man broke open the pumpkins, two women
—a mistake, I soon realized, as I had to pick chards of clay out of my plate.
Saturday, October 6
to Kizkalesi
Went to the Urgup weekly bazaar before leaving town—giant cabbages, teas and spices—and a great opportunity for colorful photos.
We retraced the excellent road to Nigdi and at Karaman, headed south towards Silifke—an extraordinary journey little known to outsiders that took us high into the Taurus Mountains. The winding road revealed dramatic panoramas of the Gokso Valley at each bend. As the road climbed higher, we entered a forest of pine trees that pierced the clear blue sky. A few kilometers north of Mut, we turned off the highway at a brown and white sign pointing to Alahan. We followed a little road that snaked up the mountain through the pines. The road was very steep but in good condition. There, perched at an altitude of 1200 meters, we found the Alahan Monastery. The description in our Michelin Neos guidebook described it far better than I could: The monastery is a forgotten wonder, isolated from the world: a sea of columns and arches suspended high in the mountains, overlooking the Goksu Valley and the powerful massifs of the Taurus. It was a perfect refuge for monks in search of contemplative silence. Today, the site is still magical and imbued with a profound tranquility. In the shade of the pine trees, shepherds play the flute and the beauty of the ruins is matched by that of the landscape. An enchanting site which you will remember long after your trip. Founded as early as the 5th century, Alahan is among the first monasteries in Christian history. Lost for centuries, it was only rediscovered in 1961. As we walked among the columns and portals of the Church of the Evangelists, we were overcome by this magical place. Delicate relief carvings were still visible—grapevines with birds intertwined were remarkably intact. The basic structure of the church was visible and one could imagine the monks seated around the steps surrounding the altar. We walked down the tree-lined path to a second church, this one slightly later and better preserved. We entered one of the three portals, which were decorated by carved friezes. The interior was practically intact, with only the roof gone. Gracious golden arches framed the blue sky above. We were enchanted. Moments like these are what make our trips so immensely satisfying.
Alahan
The road to Silifke carried us though more mountain scenery. We passed forests and orchards, broken every so often by small villages with roadside stands selling jars of pickles and terra cotta ware. We thought about stopping but never quite managed to coordinate a quick, mutual decision. From Silifka, we followed the Mediterranean to Kizkalesi, a tacky beach resort in a beautiful setting. Behind the Club Barbarosa, where we were to stay, a gleaming white Byzantine fortress emerged from the sea, about 200 meters from the beach. It faces the nearby citadel of Korykos and was once connected to it by a causeway, long since gone. We checked into the hotel and were shown to our thirdfloor room (no elevator). After turning on the AC and setting it on its lowest temperature, went down to tour the premises. Obviously the season is over at the Club Barbarosa—the bars were closed, chairs stacked and cushions piled up; the pools were emptied, the fitness center a mess of broken equipment. Most of the guest rooms appeared to be shuttered—in fact, we may have been the only paying customers. The melancholy atmosphere of summer past was in the air. Went for a short walk on the boardwalk, noting the discos and ice cream stands, mostly closed. A few kids flew past us on bikes and there was still a scattering of bathers. Went out to the water’s edge and looked at the beautiful fortress. That was the sight we should remember. Dinner was included with our room—we were lone diners in the warm, overly bright room. A group of staff sat outside in the pleasant evening air—we watched them enjoy a feast as we ate our simple meal inside. A short walk to see the fortress illuminated before bed.
Sunday, October 7
to Alanya
Breakfast was much as dinner was—we were again the only guests in the dining room. Several staff members came in to fill plates from the buffet that appeared to be set up for 100. On the road at 9:00—tires were low and we stopped at a gas station to get some air. Along the coast road —narrow and winding, lots of trucks, but the scenery was beautiful with views of the turquoise Mediterranean. It seems that every town along Turkey’s eastern Mediterranean coast grows something special. For Anamur, it is bananas—small, sweet and aromatic. We saw countless stands along the road with great bunches of them hanging on display. Stopped at one where a man lay napping on a cot. He slowly got up and offered us a sample. Sold! We bought a half bunch—around two dozen—for 9 YTL.
A few kilometers on, we came to Mamure Kalesi, a fortress ruin overlooking the sea. According to our guidebook, it is one of Asia Minor’s finest. The fortress was built on the remains of a small Roman fort that dated from the 3rd century, and passed through the hands of the Armenians, Cypriots, Seljuks, Turks and Ottomans. Today it offers paths and steps to climb, battlements to peer through and views of the castle and the sea below.
Mamure Kalesi
Back on the road, we twisted and turned our way through the mountains. At Alanya, the banana trees became hotels —masses of them, all new, all colorful, bearing such names as Sugar Beach, Sun Coast and Emerald Isle. We drove into Alanya, an attractive holiday town with a harbor filled with tour boats and Turkish gulets. Unlike Kizkalesi, the season was far from over—it was in full swing. Tourists were everywhere (mostly German) and shops and discos lined the streets. We found the steep road that led up to the citadel (Ickale) and located the Bedesten up in the old town. We discovered, however, that this hotel, set in an old restored caravanseri, was closed. A friendly man wearing a Puma ball cap and a Dolce Gabbana t-shirt met us and in excellent English explained that the hotel had been closed for a year and the owner was seeking a buyer. He showed us around what must have been a most unique place to stay. Mortiz persuaded us to stay for tea and over our steaming glasses he told us that after his second divorce he left his home in London and returned to Turkey, his home. So far, he had traveled 50,000 kilometers, zigzagging his way across the country he loves. Before we left, he gave us a card for his brother’s hair salon in Abbey Road, “across from the Beatles’ studio.” Returning to the harbor area, we were able to get a room at the Kaptan Hotel with a nice harbor view. For dinner, we walked down the street to the Ottoman House, built 100 years ago as Alanya’s first hotel. Passed souvenir shops and fast food places— Burger King offered the “Sultan’s Meal,” McDonalds, the “Mighty Turko,” lots of Coca Cola signs. Dinner in the garden of the house—heard the call to prayer emphasized by the base boom of car stereos going past.
Alanya
Monday, October 8
to Antalya
We watched the sunrise over the mountains, creating silhouettes of the ships’ masts in the still water. Short drive to Antalya today but lots to see on the way. First to Alarahan to see the a 13th century Seljuk caravanserai, a stopping place for merchants traveling between Antalya and Alanya. Down steps to an impressive gate with Arabic inscriptions leading to a vaulted hall—but the overall impression was disappointing as work was underway to turn it into a dinner-dance tourist attraction.
Kadir Gecesi (“Night of Power”)
It was a short drive to the beautifully preserved Roman theater at Aspendos—huge and almost totally intact, giving a sense of how the audience could be totally closed off from the rest of the world.
Aspendos
We visited the Roman city of Perge. As we walked the wide streets and the agora (market square) it was easy to imagine what life must have been like for its inhabitants.
Perge
On through Antalya to Termessus, lying half buried in the rugged beauty of Gullul Dagi Park. Drove 10 kilometers up a steep, narrow road with hairpin switchbacks and parked. Hiked up a steeper path, stepping over chunks of marble, many of them carved. Explored the evocative ruins of the city created by the mysterious Solymians. It was awesome to follow the uneven paths and find a once-grand building that had been overtaken by vegetation. Sarcophagi and rock tombs, upended and smashed by earthquakes, vines, and plundering, were scattered over the gloomy terrain. Crowning the ancient city was the theater, surrounded by mountains and overlooking the lush valley below. One could not imagine what must have gone into creating this city—how were the materials hoisted up here, and why was such a rugged site chosen in the first place? Such remarkable example of the power of human determination. We slipped and slid our way back down the path to the car—I got quite a knot on my shin when I lost my footing on some loose rocks.
Termessus
Into the city of Antalya, it was tricky finding our way to Kaleci, the old quarter, at rush hour. I got a little concerned as we drove along an enclosed road with trolley tracks but fortunately we did not meet any vehicle coming the other way. Had a terrible time trying to find the clock tower that was near the hotel, but were amazed at the friendliness and helpfulness of the people on the street. When we stopped to check the map, invariably someone would step up to the car and offer to help, often in English. We finally found the Tuvana Hotel and our host and his beautiful wife came out to greet us. Fashioned from six restored Ottoman houses, the hotel was charming. We settled into our huge room and later enjoyed dinner in the garden, surrounded by bougainvillea and oleander, tiny lanterns hanging in their branches.
Tuesday, October 9
to Simena
Awakened by cannon fire followed by the call to prayer. Enjoyed a breakfast buffet on the covered terrace of our house. Driving west, we were entering Lycia, that area of Turkey on the Teke Peninsula between Dalaman and Antalya. where an ancient people settled as early as the 12th century BC. We visited Phaselis, 56 kilometers from Antalya, a ruined Lycian city founded in 334 BC. It is set on a rocky promontory shaded by pines. The air was sweet with the aroma of rosin as we walked under the ruins of a great aqueduct and down a wide shaded avenue still paved with marble slabs. A group from the UK arrived by gulet—we are now in boat country. Nice chat with a Dutch woman about Bush and US politics. Olympos, shrouded in mystery, was an important Lycian city by the 2nd century and then abandoned for reasons unknown. Those ruins were widely scattered among wild grapevines, oleander and giant bushes in a setting beneath tall hills. A giant portal with sculpted frame opened to a chaos of vegetation. Tipped and broken sarcophagi were partially hidden by trailing vines.
Myra
A short stop to see the rock tombs of Myra (near Demre)—Lycian tombs sculpted into the hillside, overlooking an ancient theater.
Visited St. Nicholas Church in Demre—a mistake: heavily restored and overrun by tour groups. The guidebook gave two stars to the marquetry floors but otherwise, it was a disappointment.
St. Nicholas Church
Turned off the main road for a 15-kilometer drive through the mountains to Ucagiz, passing little villages close to the road. No guardrails so glad we were on the cliff side. At Ucagiz, hired a man and his young son to sail us over to Simena, a small fishing port on the Bay of Kekova. When we stepped off the boat, another little boy led us up a series of steep steps to Bademli Ev. We were greeted by Tariq, son of the inn’s owner, who took us up more steps to what amounted to a tree house. A little balcony framed with magenta bougainvillea and morning glories overlooked the orange rooftops and the bay below. Tariq arranged for us to take a cruise in the bay. Twenty minutes after we arrived, young Mevlut (17) and his sister picked us up in their motorized boat and took us around the island of Kekova. We saw Lycian ruins that mingled with the shrubs and mountain goats and cascaded into the bay where we could see them beneath the surface of the crystal water. Docked briefly to walk to the remains of a Byzantine church standing guard over the island. Then back to Simena just as the sun was setting. Walked down to Hasan’s Roma, on the water below us, for fresh local lobster. Turned out to be somewhat of a rip-off, but the evening was so lovely and our surroundings so pleasant that we dismissed any negative thoughts. On our way back, were really glad we each had our flashlights with us, for could not imagine negotiating those steep, uneven steps in the pitch darkness.
Simena
Journal kept by Susan Hanes during a trip around Turkey from September 17– October 19, 2007. Photos by Susan Hanes and George Leonard, copyright 2007. Volume 2
V. 2