BETWEEN THE TAURUS
AND THE DEEP BLUE SEA Coasting into history Few travellers to Turkey enjoying the hedonistic delights of the Mediterranean venture east of Antalya, capital of Anatolia's Turquoise Coast - intimidated perhaps by rumours of a wild hinterland that even Alexander the Great found hard to tame. But those who dare to leave the crowds behind will discover an awe-inspiring landscape of cliffs that drop sheer to the sea, epic castles and remote Byzantine retreats. kate clow and jacqueline de Gier joined ten other guests and a lecturer on a twlve-day voyage of enlightenment aboard a traditional gulet
-------------------------- Day 1 As the sun rises over the old Selçuk walls of Antalya harbour, the Arif Kaptan B slips past the Roman watchtower, out to the open sea. Four hours’ sail takes us to Side, running eastwards with the imperceptible tide. The wide coastal plain and the heat haze almost screen the grey silhouettes of the Taurus Mountains. Above us, the two masts reflect the sun, while the guests recline in the shade, beers in hand, accustoming themselves to the endless swelling motion. My stomach is somewhat relieved when we slip easily into a vacant berth at Side, alongside the seafront disco and bars. In the museum, the plain vaults of the Roman bathhouse show off the worn and polished marble statuary to advantage Hercules catches the light across his muscular shoulders; a dog peeps around a sarcophagus looking for his lost owner. The museum garden is fragrant with thyme and sea smells, and roses grow over a long frieze with mermaids and naval battles. Day 2 As dawn gleams on the temples of Apollo and Athena which is which? the photographers slink off the gulet to capture the changing light. Sunrise on a Medusa’s head; silence in Side’s heart. We set sail for Alanya, another few hours away, where the anchor rattles out under the sheer cliffs of the citadel; we plunge into the clear waters, exploring a shallow phosphorescent cave. Seeing silver glints below, the youngest passenger gets out his fishing rod. On Alanya’s citadel, a dizzying descent down a narrow staircase below the Bedesten, or covered market, leads us to cavernous cisterns where we wander at will, tracing previous water levels on the walls. Then in the han above, we trace the levels in our beer glasses as we watch the sunlight dancing on dusty saddles, guns and saddlebags. Day 3 Beyond Alanya, the mountains harass the sea and delay the sunrise. The air is perceptibly cooler, but banana plantations chequer the light, sandy cliffs with emerald rhomboids. Approaching Gazipaþa, stretches of naked, uninhabited beach appear. Disappointingly, the wind has risen, the harbour is unfinished and the waves rip the ropes away. Mooring is a tight tango, but after half an hour of irritable manoeuvring, we are home. We drive to Antiocheia ad Cragum, winding down country lanes, finding a strange pediment with twin angels Apollo and chum? in a ploughed field. The main ruins are on top of a bramble-encrusted hill overlooking a turquoise harbour where granite columns are strewn. They look like booty from some ancient sea raid; perhaps the pirates grew bored with trying to haul them uphill. Back on the gulet, dinner conversation is subdued by bleak wind and water noise. The dense night is unbroken by artificial light. Day 4 We cruise in early morning light past the ruins of Antiocheia ad Cragum, the shaded headland towering above the boat. The hidden harbour is accessible only via a sea arch; with surprise on their side, pirates could easily molest local shipping. With a fresh wind and an eager new cabin boy on board, there’s no excuse not to raise sail, so we do. The motor dies, and we are in the soundless world the ancients enjoyed. I would swap engines and diesel fumes any day for the sound and smell of horse and cart, sails and oars. We land at Bozyazõ a reassuringly inhabited harbour and take a trip back in time to Anemurium, where grave-building seems to have been a lifetime’s occupation. In the Odeon, our lecturer directs the guests in his first production of a Greek comedy The Clouds. Strepiades, seeing his son sacrifice all in the cause of innovation, echoes my sentiments about modernity. Day 5 The lamb of God on a marble fragment glows in the darkness of the museum there’s a power cut. Francis Beaufort’s map of 1818, with a sketch of Anemurium from the sea, dimly graces the wall. We are allowed to photograph but not to use flash; as we despair, power is restored. The market at Anamur is empty of fish, but melons, pistachios and freshly picked crisp salads make up for it. At the gulet, we find a local fisherman has delivered fish straight to our gangplank. A glut of wine is cheerfully consumed at dinner. Day 6 We sail after breakfast, and moor up for a swim in crystal waters but in sight of ubiquitous plastic greenhouses. Under the awning, we languidly try to get our heads around the principles of Greek tragedy the magic numbers, the masks, the taboos. From Aydõncõk harbour we head inland. It’s the first time we have crossed the great divide into the interior, driving up dry valleys, through fragmented villages smelling of sleepy cows, to the site of Meydancõk. This Hittite fort is perched on a north-facing promontory, with deep, cultivated valleys below. Redolent of history, the massive stones point to the power of the builders. What did Alexander make of this creation, history in his time, a reminder that other powers ruled this land a thousand years before him? On the return, we stop to raid ripe pomegranates from roadside trees. Day 7 The heat and silence permeate the breakfast table, but we eventually sail, past jagged cliffs, watching swooping terns, and moor up alongside the ruins of Aphrodisias-in-Cilicia. A short conversation with a fisherman locates the church, but instead of the expected mosaics we find sand. A cautious scrape reveals tesserae. Back to the boat for brush and dustpan, to clean the church floor. I’m surprised how hard everyone works. The lecturer translates the inscriptions. I gaze in wonder at the wildlife black francolin, purple gallinule, owls, moorhens, ducks, all set out in mosaic. Day 8 At breakfast, groups of migrating buzzards pass overhead, silhouetted against the sky, aiming east for the easy feeding of the Göksu delta. Today’s trip is inland, through the market town of Silifke, to the pine-clad hills where Diocaesarea shares its space with Uzuncaburç. Diocaesarea was well endowed: a city gate, a theatre, and a long nymphaeum proclaim prosperity. The money came from pilgrims to the second-century-BC temple to Zeus Olbios. Its massive columns still stand, topped by Corinthian capitals, each of individual design, some showing the lotus leaves of Egypt. Overhead, a Kreuper’s nuthatch tootles as it works its way upwards, picking insects from a crack in the column. All around the countryside are monuments to the dead house tombs, pyramid tombs, tower tombs. Did the pilgrims come here to die? Day 9 Today is a peaceful anticlimax at the museum at Silifke and St Thecla’s church. I would rather be birdwatching on the delta, but the wind is rising and storms threaten. Day 10 Alahan is perched on a rock ledge under limestone cliffs, where gaunt junipers struggle for water. The churches are remarkably well preserved; presumably they were later used as hans. As we picnic on the terrace, the guardian joins us and, after a sandwich, asks if we want to see a painted cave. The bold elect to follow him down steep, rocky paths, over a stream bed. Scrambling in through a narrow opening, we draw breath. Above is a huge shallow dome, painted in midnight blue. A pattern of diagonals and curls, like winding ribbons, in red, gold and white, stretches across the roof and walls. The cave is pockmarked by gunshot, darkened by smoke and stinks of goat. Our feet sink into the turds of years, which obscure the tiled floor. The wide opening frames a stunning view across the plain to Mut. Overwhelmed, we wander around the vault, craning our necks upwards. I cross-question the guardian no, not even the archaeologists know of the cave’s existence. Day 11 Back to civilisation we drive along the flattening coast to the Corycian Caves, “Heaven and Hell”. I’m the only one to be deeply unimpressed by the natural caverns and the civilised café. But nearby Kanlðdivane is something else something unworldly. As we scramble around the deserted churches, the sun is setting, bathing the depths of the chasm in a gold-red glow indeed the place of blood. Why here? What drew Christians to this savage stretch of the coast, unless it was the wildness and inaccessibility of it which saved them from persecution? We debate the question over local fish in the beach-side restaurant. Day 12 Our final day dawns clear, and as we round a headland, a crisp breeze tells us to pile on sail. We bowl along and the mountains recede, the plain opens up and the suburbs of Mersin stretch endlessly before us. We moor up right in the city centre, just a palisade of hibiscus between us and the main square, and, across that, the market. A place to stock up on the little pleasures of Turkey before the early-morning flight home. Our final evening is endowed with touches of jollity the crew have decked out the boat with balloons and put on funny hats. It’s time for a toast and a speech or two before our final dinner on board. |  | TRAVEL NOTES
Kate Clow and Jacqueline de Gier travelled with Westminster Classic Tours. |
| The undiscovered coast:
a quick guide, by Kate Clow These sites are some of the most varied and fascinating in the region; they are not the well-known crowd-pullers around Antalya, but deserted obscurities. At sea we saw day-trippers to Side and Alanya, but we saw no other gulets east of Alanya. Westminster Classic Tours arrange their annual cruise in September, which is ideal for the bird migrations. For the independent traveller, be warned that the road between Alanya and Silifke is winding, slow and often has heavy timber lorries on it. Drive early in the day. In order to get the best from the sites, wear stout shoes and take a camera, torch and picnic. Antiocheia ad Cragum
(Antioch-on-the-Crag)
South-east of Gazipasa. Spectacular clifftop Roman/Byzantine ruins with sea and sunset views. Take a bird book and binoculars.
Drive east from Gazipasa on the D400 for 19km. Just past the village of Guney take a signed right turn over a wooded ridge for 5km to the temple of Apollo. Road, baths and church are on the left. Continue downhill through a village on 2km of dirt-road hairpins to a carpark. The medieval fortress with walls and lighthouse is reached by a path behind the teashop. Anemurium
South-west of Anamur are late Roman/ Byzantine ruins strewed along a beach and up an acropolis hill. Take swimming kit; wear long trousers (against the thorns). On-site café and ticket booth.
Drive 6km west of Anamur, take the signed left fork for 2km. At the ticket booth, ask for Ali Riza Kan, (tel. 0324 8351370) who will unlock the gratings over the best tombs, where fifth- and sixth-century frescoes of nymphs, peacocks and portrait heads lurk in the shadows, and mosaic fish and birds. More mosaics floor the seashore palaestra and necropolis church. Mamure Kalesi A spectacular medieval castle 6km southwest of Anamur. Ticket booth, car park and restaurants opposite. Restaurants and car park. The walls, once protected by a moat, are crowned with ragged battlements. It’s possible to climb (via passages and staircases to the Turkish flag which surmounts the entrance tower. The restored mosque of the Selçuk sultan Alaeddin Keykubad stands in the dusty western court. St Thecla’s Cave
The underground chapel of St Thecla and the shells of two Byzantine churches are on hills rising above the Göksu delta.
Drive southwest from Silifke on the D400 for 4km and turn right (almost invisible sign for Meryemlik sign) for 1km. Thecla, a native of Konya, followed St Paul on his return to the coast and set up shop as a healer and saint in a cave. The currently unprepossessing three-apsed church, cut from solid rock, is soon to be ‘restored’. Leo the Isaurian’s massive basilica still soars to the sky. Other ruins include another basilica and baths. Meydancik
On a Taurus hilltop is Hittite Meydancðk, with massive 14th-century BCwalls and spectacular views. In Adincik (86km west of Silfke), take the road signed Gulnur uphill and across the valley at Bozagac for 25km. Just before Gulnur, turn sharp right (signed Meydancik, and drive 6km south to the track to the site. Park, climb for 100m to the citadel and enter between huge uprights. The hilltop has been cleared to reveal colossal foundations. In the scrub on the left are well-concealed othostats. Silifke museum contains two huge caryatids and a superb hoard of 5,000 coins of Alexander the Great and his generals from the site. Aphrodisias-in-Cilicia
(see photograph above)
Between Aydðncðk and Silifke are ruins of a fifth-century church. Take swimming gear and a brush and dustpan to uncover (and re-cover) the beautiful mosaics. Don’t miss the inscriptions (near the entrance and in the right apse), and beautiful designs of birds and waterfowl.
Take the signed dirt road south off the D400 about 36km east of Silifke (before Yesilovacik) to the small harbour and pass a white bungalow to reach the church, perched above the sea. Gentle brushing will reveal mosaics, a couple of insriptions (near the entrance and in the right apse), and beautiful deigns of birds and waterfowl. Diocaesarea (Uzuncaburç)
The village of Uzuncaburç, at about 900 metres, is built inside the walls of Diocaesarea, home of a virtually independent priest-clan of the Temple of Zeus Olbius. A friendly village café sells tickets; nearby, village women sell lace, headscarves and carpets. From the east end of the Roman Bridge in Silifke, drive 14km to a collection of well-preserved temple tombs at the roadside. 12km furhter on, turn right over a bridge and continue for 4km past a puramid-topped tomb to Uzuncaburc. Explore the main street, theatre, city gates, nymphaeum and temple to Tyche, goddess of chance. The vast Zeus temple has the earliest Corinthian capitals in Anatolia. Alahan
Above the ancient road over the Sertavul Pass to the interior, at about 1,200 metres, is Alahan, a monastery complex once reused as a han. Take warm clothing. Follow the D715 KarmanKonya road for 82km to Mut; continue for 20km. You will seee a café. Turn right up 2km of steep hairpin bends to the site. The monastery buildings command wide views over the Göksu from a south-facing terrace. Kanlidivane
East of Silifke, Kanlidivane is a huge natural pit with Byzantine church ruins that rival the more famous nearby caves, “Heaven and Hell”. Ticket booth. 12km east of Kizkalesi, take a left turn which winds for 4km to the site. A Hellenistic tower perches above a 400m-wide crater. Four half-standing early Byzantine churches ring the rim, rearing from dense scrub. A path leads to the depths, past a carving of four Roman soldiers. Visit at sunset. Pompeiopolis
12km west of Mersin, in a belt of holiday apartments, this was once a sophisticated harbour town with a population of a quarter million, Pompeiopolis was destroyed in a sixth-century earthquake. The only visible remains are an impressive row of columns, each with a different capital, which lined the main street. Drive 11km east from Mersin, and turn left at the bridge and Beldiye (Municipality) building. When you approach the sea, turn left again and you will see the columns on the left. |
