Uncovering the delights of Anatolia

As an army of holidaymakers mount their annual beach invasion of Anatolia, we rush the other way to explore the charms of of Turkey‘s ‘Mediterranean Riviera’.

Anatolia has seen empires rise and fall, and armies come and go. But if you were to liken the thousands of sun-seeking tourists to an invading force, then they must leave the locals puzzling over why so few seem willing or able to venture beyond the 2x1m spot on which they lie prostrate amid the carnage and singed flesh piled up on the beach.

Like so many coastal regions before it, Anatolia has become best known for its sun, sand and sea. Not being big on human barbecues, we were determined to push further inland. We wanted to get acquainted with the thousands of years of history and the rich culture of a region that was, among other things, the cradle of the Turkic nation giving birth to the once mighty Ottoman Empire.

At the airport, we part company with the packaged tourists. To avoid a fate worse than sunburn, we have planned to stay in the Anatolian capital of Antalya at a charming-sounding hotel in the historic centre of the city which my wife had uncovered.

The two-hour delay we experienced in Brussels meant that, as we entered town, we were greeted by that familiar wave of ethereal rhythm that presages the imminent, silver-lined arrival of the sun. The call to dawn prayer, which we had not heard since our departure from Cairo over two years ago, rose from every minaret in the city. Whether or not one answers it, there is no denying the beauty of the sound as its erupts through the city’s silent and still streets. It reminds us of long, warm nights immersed in buttery conversations.

We soon arrive at the Tuvana hotel which is nestled in the warren of medieval alleys of the Kaleici district, just behind the city’s main mosque with its pencil-thin Ottoman minaret poking the brightening sky.

The characterful hotel, which is apparently named after the Hittite spring festival, is in a restored Ottoman townhouse. It has all the charm and quirkiness of the friendly, family-run establishment that it is. Aside from the toe-sized swimming pool, the hotel’s setting was idyllic. The best feature of the hotel is the open-air inner courtyard, which contains the summer restaurant.

Although no strangers to heat, the sticky 70% humidity took some getting used to. We spent the first day discovering the lay of the land, reacquainting ourselves with repelling the hard sell and the hawkers, polishing up our haggling skills, and observing the locals.

Eerily familiar

The first thing that struck us about the town was how hauntingly familiar it was, triggering images of both the Middle East and Europe. In fact, it so reminded me of home that I had, for the first couple of nights, vivid dreams of Egypt.

But Turkey, as its geographical position and political aspirations suggest, is more ‘westernised’ and sexually liberal than Egypt. Nevertheless, despite the best efforts of the modern republic’s architect, Mustafa Kemal, to purge the country of much of its Islamic identity in the name of ‘modernism’, it can still undeniably be seen.

Even if Kemal – who earned the title Ataturk, or ‘father of the Turks’, for reconstructing his shattered country after the unflattering collapse of the Ottoman empire – did not entirely succeed in moulding modern Turkey in his own image, we soon discovered that he managed to leave an indelible mark on its banknotes and main squares. Antalya has a statue of the ‘big man’, as we grew to refer to him, mounted on a charging warhorse and dressed as a caped warrior surrounded by male and female nymphs.

Not only was Turkey eerily familiar to us, underscoring the false dichotomy between ‘east’ and ‘west’, but  we, to our surprise, were also eerily familiar to Turkey. Wherever we went, my Belgian wife and I (me slightly more so) were constantly mistaken for locals.

We soon discovered that a little effort to learn some basic Turkish phrases went down very well with the locals and helped us get around more conveniently. My multilingual wife was better at the retention, while I usually took care of the execution. One of our favourite pastimes was to listen in on conversations and see how much we could understand through Arabic, English and lots of imagination.

In the historic quarter, we explored the bazaar, walked through the over-commercialised bay, saw the ancient Hadrian’s Gate and went mosque hopping. Acquainted with the splendour of the ‘city of 1,000 minarets’, Antalya’s mosques seemed somewhat sparse and thrifty in comparison, although some had interesting features. One example was the mosque with the ‘broken’ (Kesik) minaret, which, despite the state of ruin it was in, still sported many of its original Roman columns. This mosque had started life as a Roman temple, which was later reincarnated as a Byzantine church.

We also ventured into the modern town, which despite the apartment blocks, is surprisingly green and peppered with fountains and water channels. Antalya has a generous supply of public parks some with stunning cliff views of the sea. We indulged in playing backgammon at local teahouses and, through a monumental effort, I managed to resist the allure of the waterpipe and continue my smoke-free record. We also found it was the best place to savour the delicious cuisine in establishments frequented by locals rather than the hard-sell, mouldy-quality tourist eateries.

Get out of town

It does not take long to become totally familiar with Antalya’s historic town centre and the city’s modern quarters are mostly residential and rather samey. The museum traces the city’s long history from prehistory to modern times.

It contains some interesting artifacts, including Greco-Roman statues (many of which have mysteriously lost their genitallia), ancient pottery in amazingly good condition, and Ottoman Qurans, coins and carpets. Nevertheless, the museum is fairly modest by international standards and will only take a morning to wonder around at your leisure.

Although it gave us marvellous opportunities to see how the locals live and check out their hangouts, there is little of historic or architectural note in the modern city with its shaky-looking high rises.

As we were in Turkey only for a short stay, we could not afford to go too far afield, which meant that Istanbul, Konya and other such places were out of the question. Luckily, Antalya’s environs offer plenty of opportunity for exploration.

Although tour companies offer organised trips, we found that option to be too pricey and we did not fancy being rushed around sites like so much cattle banned from grazing. Instead, we opted for Turkey’s excellent and inexpensive transport network – from the ‘dolmus’ to mini-buses and coaches.

Our first experiment with public transport led us to spend the day at the Duden Waterfalls. Despite the commercial developments around them, they are still of powerful natural beauty. The gushing waters knock several degrees off the temperature, creating a microclimate that is sweet and cool. It is a favourite haunt for families and young Turkish lovers, many of whom sit and admire the might and splendour of the waterfalls from inside the catacombs behind them.

History repeating

We also went on a couple of day trips to places of historical significance. Our first such destination was the ruins of Perge, one of the most significant archaeological finds in the region which provides the majority of Antalya museum’s Greco-Roman collection.

The bus dropped us on the main road, some 3kms away from Perge. Walking along the sun-drenched road, we set a pattern that was to repeat itself. Shortly before we reached the site, a local farmer pulled up in his tractor and offered us a lift on his trailer, which we gladly accepted. Once we arrived at the gate, the friendly old man sped off (as much as you can on a tractor) before we could thank him or insult him with a tip.

We explored the massive – and shadeless – complex with its ancient stadium, Roman baths, a nymphaeum, a gymnasium, an agora, a colonnaded avenue complete with fountains and water channels. After several thirsty hours of wondering around, we sat in one of the few areas of shade in the all of Perge where we were treated to an amusing side show starring to camp Dutch men one of whom was sporting a Mary Poppin’s umbrella.

Pushing ourselves up a gear, our next expedition was to the ancient Psidian city of Termessos. We were soon to get a clue as to why it was one of the only places to have resisted Alexander the Great’s eastward sweep across Asia. Termessos,  which sits 1,050m up a mountain, is situated in a huge national park, 9kms from where the bus dropped us off.

Not realising quite how far that really is,  we fool-hardly started our ascent. A couple of kilometres into our trek, we had enough of admiring the eye-catching nature and start looking out for passing transport. There wasn’t a taxi in sight and the first few cars that passed infrequently our way were full. Eventually, we managed to get a ride to the top from a Polish couple.

Despite the long climb, the trip was worth it. The city’s ruins are among the best-preserved in the whole of Anatolia and the view of the surrounding mountains and valley is truly breathtaking. The city’s theatre sits at the edge of the mountain affording a view so dramatic that it would compete with the action on the stage, which we try to picture while testing out the acoustics. It is one of the most striking venues we have ever seen and, if a concert is ever held there, we decide we’ll be first on the list for tickets.

After walking over 5kms within the site, we were hoping that the taxi we’d seen in the city’s car park would still be there. But, you’ve guessed it, it was long gone. So we started the long walk down with lead in our hearts. A couple of kilometres into our walk, we were able to hitch a ride to the bottom from a group of friendly young Turks.

Having worn off the soles of our shoes, we spent our last morning in Antalya chilling out and buying some goodies. Although we’d had an enjoyable break, a week had not been long enough to do all we’d wanted to do but duty beckoned us back to the real world. At the airport, we caught up with, once again, our packaged tourists wrapped in their brand new tans and we knew they’d never really left home.

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This article first appeared in Expatica in August 2003.