More antiquities in blasting color

Since the first-ever exhibition of ancient statues reworked to their ancient polychromy in 2003 (see: Ancient Greece in full Technicolor), the concept of looking at colored versions has become more familiar. Many 3D and other reconstructions of temples and monuments have been published in its wake. 

It is almost unbelievable that the idea of looking at white marble or stone temples has been anchored in our minds for so long. That is not entirely surprising as some early archaeologists used to scrub their finds clean to remove the dirt, including any possible trace of color. Earlier archaeologists of the 1800s, like Sir Charles Fellows, have repeatedly exposed tombs and smaller temples with explicit paint remains, either in their decoration or in the inscriptions' letters. 

I remember strolling through the site of Arykanda, for instance (see: Visiting the site), and staring at the stately tombs in its necropolis, which Charles Fellows described with many traces of paint. I stared and stared but saw nothing except in my imagination. 

The statues' bright colors are shocking at first because they are so strong (see: Greek statues in blasting colors). Besides, some parts may have been gilded and have in-laid eyes as first appearing in bronze statues. Modern technologies using ultraviolet and infrared light reveal any faint remains of color. 

In my earlier blogs mentioned above, I mainly concentrated on marble statues and missed to stress the exceptional beauty of reconstructed bronze statues. Striking examples are the two Riace bronzes hauled from the sea in 1972. After they were cleaned, many details became visible. Their mouths appeared to be made from copper, as were their eyelashes and nipples. Warrior A showed silver teeth. And, of course, both statues had kept their eyes inlaid with stone. 

They are very striking and charming in their bright colors, but the detail of the head I found by chance is even more revealing! Although this was common good in the temples and houses in antiquity, these pictures look spectacular because we only have isolated examples.

[Pictures from Atlas Obscura]

Andriake’s Museum has opened

The opening of this museum in Andriake, inside the walls of Hadrian’s Granary (131 AD), was announced a while ago (see: Time to revisit Andriake, the harbor of Myra) and is now a fact.

It has been baptized as The Lycian Civilizations Museum as it not only contains local finds from Myra and Andriake but from the entire region of Lycia, roughly situated at the southern coast of Turkey between Fethiye and Finike. Except for the coastal cities, Lycia has been very little explored but offers a great number of sites that flourished when they joined hands in the Lycian League founded in the early days of the 2nd century BC. The League had a Parliament of its own, the first ever in history, that was located at Patara. This kind of government may well have inspired modern democracy.

More than one thousand artifacts excavated in cities like Myra, Andriake, Patara, Xanthos, Tlos, Arykanda, Pinara, Antiphellos, and Olympos have found a home in one of the seven rooms of this former Granary. Among the exhibits are statues, vessels, other kitchenware, glassware, and jewelry.

The site of Andriake itself has been cleared further and has become part of the open-air museum with its harbor, the agora with an underground water cistern, a Roman bath, and a boat, as well as the remains of several churches and even a Jewish temple.

More information about the Lycian League can be found in my earlier blog: A short history of Lycia.

Xanthus, Travels of Discovery in Turkey by Enid Slatter

Xanthus, Travels of Discovery in Turkey by Enid Slatter (ISBN 0-948695-30-7) is an absolute must for every lover of Greek antiquity and more particularly for those, who like me, fell in love with Lycia in southeastern Turkey.

The title Xanthus, although the main city and once capital of ancient Lycia, may be misleading as the book covers in fact, all of Lycia. The author mainly has reproduced the journals kept by Charles Fellows, who in 1838 and 1840 crisscrossed this unchartered territory looking for architecture worth of filling the newly founded British Museum in London. Occasionally Enid Slatter has added updated information about the whereabouts of certain artifacts.

The journal not only mentions the (generally phonetically spelled) Turkish names of the towns but also the corresponding names from antiquity. The book is further richly illustrated by a huge amount of drawings, some made by Fellows himself, but most of them drawn by young George Scharf, who accompanied him, especially for this purpose.

It gives a great insight into the policy applied by the then-ruling Ottoman government as well as that of the British occupying nearby Rhodes and Malta. The general landscapes with rivers, gorges, scant bridges and fording places are very detailed, but also the overall color pallet of blossoming trees, field flowers, and dresses of the local people. On top of all that, it is quite interesting to learn how Charles Fellows and his entourage traveled from England to Turkey and back, using ferries, carriages, an occasional new train track, steamers, ferries, to continue on horseback or on foot through the pristine Lycian countryside. They suffered from seasickness on many occasions and were thoroughly shaken during the bumpy rides in the stage coaches. In Turkey, they were dependent on the weather and often hit by fierce thunderstorms. The Lycian coast was still infested by swarms of mosquitoes, especially in summer when even the locals moved out en-masse to the inland mountains.

Xanthus was and is, of course, the focal point, but Fellows also put sites like Letoon, Tlos, Pinara, Myra, Limyra, Arykanda, Olympos and Finike on the map, which today are only one flight away for the many tourists.

While during his first trip Charles Fellows aimed to discover as much of Lycia as he could, his second expedition of 1840 was the one that enabled him to crate and ship the magnificent pieces of what is now called the Nereid Monument (or Ionic Monument), the friezes of the Harpy Monument, the entire Payava Tomb (or Horse Tomb), and several other pillar or box tombs now at the British Museum. He also made plaster casts of pertinent reliefs that could not otherwise be moved, which have sadly disappeared since.

The reading is never dull and Fellows’ love for this unique Lycian culture is one of a kind. His journal is truly filled with many exciting details, very much worth discovering.

Alexander’s Path by Freya Stark

Alexander’s Path (ISBN 0879513403) has been on my bookshelves for many years now. The first time I read it was in preparation for my wonderful trip with Peter Sommer, In the Footsteps of Alexander the Great, the full 21-day journey (now split up into two parts). Since then, I grabbed it repeatedly when exploring Pamphylia and Lycia on my own to get those little extra details that make a journey so much more worthwhile. In a surge of melancholy and enriched by my own experiences, I decided to read it once again, cover to cover, making it a most enjoyable mental travel experience. 

What threw me off, at first, is the fact that Freya Stark goes in the opposite direction of Alexander, starting with Alexandrette (Iskenderun) and the Battle of Issus, moving through Cilicia to the great cities of Pamphylia to finally reach Lycia. She travels in the early 1950s when the landscape is not spoiled yet by the crowds of coastal hotels and modern roads, still looking very much like Alexander’s days. Her means of transportation are random, simply adapted to the circumstances: car, jeep, horse, mule, donkey, and on foot. Hotels where she could enjoy a room of her own are rare, and she often simply accepted Turkish hospitality in whatever form and with whatever comfort that may or may not offer.

It is not a dreary recitation of facts or references from ancient authors about Alexander’s march through these lands. On the contrary, she knows how to enhance her story with simple daily realities of life as it evolves: her observation of life in the village, the sound of goats and herders in the hills, her own thoughts as the day passes and the road unwinds. She observes the land with an analytical eye, constantly wondering how an army could cross it and what Alexander’s goal was at that moment in time. 

In the end, she extensively crisscrosses the rugged lands of Lycia in search of Alexander’s path, which has not reached us from ancient literature. Even Arrian, otherwise rather detailed in his descriptions, simply mentioned that Alexander moved from Xanthos through Lycia to Phaselis. Freya Stark has spent several trips exploring every single road, pass, river, and trail of Lycia looking for the most plausible route. She concluded that the Macedonian King either took the coastal road (corresponding mostly to the modern motor road) or the higher ridge via Candyba and Kassaba to Myra and hence to Limyra with another possible deviation via Arykanda to Limyra, to end at Phoenice (modern Finike). Taking advantage of the old well-travelled stony paths and donkey trails, she manages to find the best-fitted passage for Alexander to take his army across the mountain backbone. It passes under Rhodiapolis, through Corydalla (now Kumluca), and over the Yazir Pass to descend on the eastern side to Phaselis. 

It may be hard to find, but Alexander’s Path not only is a fascinating and captivating book but also a faithful and precious travel companion.

Selge welcomed Alexander

Selge is one of those hidden treasures just a stone’s throw north of Antalya that only a few people visit.

The road leads through an inhospitable land with barren hills, rough rocks, and recently burnt-down trees and bushes, to the banks of the Eurymedon River, today’s Köprülü River that flows past Aspendos further downstream. This river lightens up the entire landscape, tracing a pale turquoise ribbon through the young green grasses and the dark pine trees. The repeated rapids in this fast-flowing water make it very suitable for rafting, a booming business, it seems. Nature unfolds in all its splendour and once again I wonder if Alexander had an eye for this kind of beauty. The higher the road climbs, the denser the thick pine trees, creating a dramatic setting against the snow-topped Taurus Mountains reaching to 2,000-2,500 meters. The steel blue sky makes every turn of the road a picture-perfect postcard.

Inside the National Park of Köprülü, named after the Roman bridge that still spans both steep canyon walls of the river by the same name, I have to drive my car over this centuries-old bridge – quite an exciting experience! From this point onward the road takes one hairpin after the other, but the view is breathtaking! The Eurymedon River gets ever smaller and the view ever wider. Shapeless grey rocks of conglomerate curiously dot the soft spring grass with its profusion of flowers. The scene has something dramatic, unreal, but at the same time timeless - a primeval force. Then the first terraces appear, neatly trimmed parcels of cultivated land promising a good harvest. Above them the first houses arise, low constructions providing shelter from the cold and wind, built in the same grey rocks I saw earlier and brightened up with red tiles. This is the village of Altinkaya, actually built among the ruins of antique Selge.

Selge itself is spread over three hills, all three being located on top of the same hilltop. Nobody in his right mind would even think about attacking or besieging such a city! An earthen road winds between somber houses, a desolate place softened up by a few scanty blossoming pear trees. In antiquity, grapes were cultivated in these parts and even olive trees managed to survive the harsh conditions of Selge. Old sources also mention the presence of a small tree that produced a resin similar to that of incense; an occasional rare specimen may have survived. The grapes disappeared with the arrival of Islam and today their living conditions look even more precarious than before.

Strabo tells us that Selge was founded in the aftermath of the Trojan War, during the second millennium BC. After that the Spartans moved in, followed later on by emigrants from Rhodes, but that the true history of the city starts with the arrival of Alexander the Great in 333 BC.

Selge was constantly at odds with its neighbors and that included Termessos which Alexander would besiege afterwards. So the people of Selge thought it wise to welcome the Macedonian King from the start. Later on, the city would do the same with the Romans although they remained independent until the fall of the Roman Empire. In the fourth century, the Byzantine Emperor Theodosius decided to settle the Goths in Phrygia (i.e. the northern region) who, warlike as they were, attacked and destroyed many cities in Anatolia. In 339 AD they also stood before Selge but couldn’t take the city.

Nothing has been excavated here and everything is left the way Selge was abandoned eons ago. Most remains are like elsewhere in Turkey from Roman times, roughly the 2nd century AD. As always, the theater is the eye-catcher. Built in three-quarters of a circle, its plan is typically Greek; the 30 tiers below the diazoma out of the total 40 are still preserved because they rest on a rocky bottom while the upper 15 rows were supported by masonry that collapsed over the years. Close to nothing is left of the Roman scene that was added later on. Just before entering the theater, I luckily noticed the blank panel that never received its inscription. The theater seated 9,000 people, meaning that Selge must have counted 20 to 25,000 inhabitants. It is a mighty sight, to say the least, and the view from the top towards the snow-capped Taurus Mountains is absolutely breathtaking. I could spend all day just sitting here on the top row…

Through a gate holding the chickens, I enter the Stadium. The owner of this parcel, an elderly man, kindly opens and closes his rudimentary gate in the fence made of all sorts of planks and branches wired together. I glance at his house if I may call this a house, four grey stone walls recuperated from antiquity no doubt but properly covered by a modern tile roof. Three months of the year Selge is covered under the snow, so this roof is definitely no luxury. The inside is a black hole with barren stone walls and an earthen floor, one room for everyone and everything. How can they possibly heat such a place? It takes some effort to discern the outlines of the Stadium, half broken down, half overgrown, or disappearing inside some shack. According to George Bean (Turkeys’ Southern Shore) it never reached the full length of 185 meters, which was also the case with the Stadium of Arykanda and several others but I never seem to have paid much attention to the measurements.

The place is totally littered with loose stones, broken columns and pottery, and plenty of antique rubble through and over which one has to find a way to other paths, passing through more wooden gates and climbing over low walls. Yet I reach the Basilica on the second hill and suddenly I'm standing in the middle of the fully paved Agora, measuring approximately 50 x 50 meters. Remains of the Stoa that framed the Agora on three sides await craftsmen to put the columns back in place. I find a stone with a Greek inscription between Corinthian capitals and column drums, and behind that, a row of loose square pillars line up along what might have been a street. Gee, if only archaeologists would come down here and excavate Selge like they did in Arykanda, it looks so promising!

I scramble around for about three hours, visiting only two of the three hills. I take a good look at the third hill from the top of the second one to define the impressive city wall, once three kilometers long. I’m truly baffled for I had no idea that Selge was so large and so imposing. No wonder Alexander left Selge for what it was! In the middle of no man's land, at a height of 2,000 meters, what was the point? Yet this is a majestic landscape.

Returning along other tracks, I pass a spring of clear water in the shelter of a rock wall, in fact, this is the antique spring that is still being used by the villagers who fill their plastic jerrycans here every day as there is no running tap water.  

I leave Selge which looks still as poor as it was in the second half of last century when George Bean visited it, and I cross the same Roman bridge again. This time, I take the time to stop for a closer look into the deep canyon. You have to admire the engineers from antiquity to dare “hang” this bridge so high above the water and in such a way that it still is being used today. The wild waters of the Köprü River are squeezed through the narrows from which two waterfalls add to the spectacle. In fact, these waterfalls are fed by underground springs whose water is pressed through the cracks in the rock formation. I don’t think the rafting companies I passed earlier today will dare venture into this part of the river! A little further down there is a second bridge, the Bügrüm Bridge from Ottoman times that spans the Kocadere River, a tributary to the Köprü (old Eurymedon) River. There is a path leading over that thin arch but that is too daring for me. I also come across the typical red and white marks of the Lycian Way that follows an ancient road that once connected Side to Konya.

Yes, there is enough left for a second visit to Selge, someday soon I hope.

Alexander the Great in Antalya’s Museum

In the days of Alexander the Great, Antalya did not exist. The city was founded nearly four hundred years later by Attalus II as a compromise in a political conflict. This happened shortly after 158 BC when said Attalus, King of Pergamon, attempted to subdue Side. His plan failed, but in exchange, he was able to add a part of Pamphylia to his kingdom. This operation was not free of danger because the Pamphylian cities loved their independence and stood officially under the protection of Rome. Attalus II did not want to ruffle Roman feathers and could not simply occupy any harbor while he desperately needed one, as otherwise, his occupation of Pamphylia would be pretty useless. He solved the problem the diplomatic way by building an entirely new port, which eventually was named after him, Attaleia, i.e., modern Antalya.

Under Emperor Hadrian, the Attaleia area became an independent province with a senator as their governor. After serving the Crusaders as a supply port and being conquered by the Seljuks, it was finally incorporated into the Ottoman Empire. The city was famous for its fine wines, but under Islamic law, the tradition of wine-making was lost and replaced by the cultivation of roses. So for the next centuries, rose oil for perfumes became the main source of income. More recently, the farming of silkworms was introduced.

There is nothing left to see from Hellenistic times in today’s Antalya, only a few traces of Roman occupation. It is said that the Atatürk Caddesi follows the outlines of the old city wall, which is only visible near the Arch of Hadrian, built in 130 AD with Corinthian columns in its façade and a worn-out Roman road running underneath. This Arch is flanked by two massive towers, cleared as recently as the 1950s. Another relic is the poor remains of the Temple of Zeus, transformed into a Basilica and later on even into a mosque – now in total ruins and in desperate need of restoration. Otherwise, antique Attaleia remains largely hidden underneath the core of “old Antalya” with its narrow streets and Ottoman houses, widely converted into pensyonlar. The Hidirlik Kulesi at the southern end of the port is thought to date from Roman times, but its role is unclear, as some speculate it was meant to be a mausoleum while others believe it was part of the citadel. In any case, this 17-meter-high tower served as a lighthouse for a while.

But the true treasure of Antalya is – in my eyes at least – the Archaeological Museum, for this is where Alexander is waiting for me.

It is a feast each time I visit this Museum, and the thought of seeing all these marvelous statues and well-organized exhibitions is very exciting, although I must have been here at least four or five times before. There always remains something new to discover, a detail I missed on previous occasions, a statue that now demands my special attention, or simply a name that I now recognize.

Among the archaeologists, for instance, there is the name of Cevdet Bayburtluoğlu, which I recognize now as the man who excavated Arykanda and most of Lycia, for that matter, and whose discoveries and analysis are publicized in his precious guide “Lycia.” The showcases filled with mostly Roman glasswork from Perge and Patara are always worth special scrutiny, as are the terracotta bowls, cups, and amphorae; the bronze objects and coins; and especially the rings and other pieces of jewelry. 

Of exceptional quality are the many statues from Perge that once enhanced the large theater, the baths, the stadium, the Nymphaeums (fountains), and the Agora. The walls of these rooms have all been painted in pinkish terracotta, making sure the statues of emperors and dignitaries stand out against them. Almost every statue has its own floodlight that switches on as soon as the visitor moves close enough. What a treat! I am particularly impressed by the Diana/Artemis and the Hermes attaching his Sandal, as I know both statues from the Louvre in Paris.  Upon closer look, they differ in slight details: the dress, the sandal, the hairdo, and the position of the feet. These may all remain unnoticed by the casual visitor. Still, I find this terribly interesting because now I can see for myself that a Roman copy of a Greek original is not always an exact copy!

In the room dedicated to the Theater of Perge, I meet up with Alexander the Great, standing tall against a green marble background, pieced together as much as possible and much larger than life-size. He dominates the room, of course. Hi there! He is in good company with an oversized Hermes, Dionysus, and Satyr. Here I also find Plancia Magna, the female demiurge of Perge (literally worker at the service of the people,  a kind of governor that is), who received a place of honor inside the Hellenistic Gate of the city around 120 AD (the base of this statue is still in situ). This shows how emancipated some Romans were in those days! Well, besides this official title, Plancia Magna was also a priestess of Artemis and of the Mother of Gods – quite a lady to reckon with!

After an open space filled with mosaics badly needing a scrub down, I arrive among the sarcophagi – a rich collection in all sorts of styles and from different provenances. I’m happy to find the one belonging to the Lyciarch Mausoleum in Olympos with a top lid on which a couple attends a banquet. It pays off to return to the museum after visiting more excavation sites, for what previously was only a name can now be mentally placed in its original context. This happened, for instance, after visiting Limyra, as I can now find the long frieze belonging to the Temple together with the special caryatid from the Heoron that was built for the Lycian King Pericles in the 4th century BC; I also get a better idea of the Cenotaph of Caius Caesar, for which a detailed reconstruction is shown here.

It is a lot of information and a lot of beauty to take in, and I’m happy to relax for a moment in the museum courtyard to enjoy a cup of tea. After that, I take a last stroll under the awning, along the objects that are not considered good enough to be taken inside. I’m amazed by the many huge amphorae that somehow remind me of Crete and have not suffered any damage at all. Unbelievable!

Ancient Myra from Finike

Today I decided to drive to nearby Myra. This is where Santa Claus was buried, not the legend but the real man, Saint Nicolas, of course. His grave is still here although his remains were stolen by Italian merchants in 1087 and taken to Bari, Italy. 

After Finike, the coastal road follows the contours of the landscape with every curve around the capes and inside the bays, offering rewarding views at each and every turn. It feels strange to be driving on this well-maintained road that I seem to know so well, looking at it from the gulet when I sailed these waters last year. It appeared as a horizontal scar in the landscape, now a winding ribbon of asphalt that is not free of danger from falling rocks. But I enjoy every mile of it. Soon enough, I enter the modern town of Demre that fills the entire bay, and I am happy to see that there are plenty of road signs directing me to ancient Myra.

Most of the ancient city lies underneath today’s Demre and is hidden under five meters of alluvial silts from the Demre River. This large plain is now almost entirely covered with greenhouses stuffed with tomatoes – very efficient but not exactly a sight for sore eyes.

Myra was first mentioned in the 1st century BC when it was one of the six leading cities of the Lycian League (with Xanthos, Tlos, Pinara, Patara, and Olympos), but its origins are believed to go back to the 5th century BC. The name was spelled MYRRH, and the Lycian coins bear the abbreviation ΛΥΚΙΩΝ ΜΥ. Myra once had a great Temple of Artemis Eleuthera (a distinctive form of Cybele), said to be Lycia's largest and most splendid building. However, St. Nicolas had the temple completely destroyed. How dared he?!

The ancient city was hit by a terrible earthquake in 141 AD, and our friend Opramoas of Rhodiapolis donated no less than 200,000 denarii for its reconstruction, together with two other benefactors, Licinius Langus of Oenoanda and Jason of Kyaenai. Under Emperor Theodosius II, it became the capital of the Byzantine Eparchy of Lycia. Myra lost one-third of its population to the plague in 542-543 AD, and after subsequent Muslim raids, flooding, and earthquakes, it was mostly abandoned by the 11th century. 

Plainly visible upon arrival is the Graeco-Roman Theater of Myra, chiseled into the rock and said to be the largest in Lycia and the third largest in Turkey. This is where I start. It is indeed quite impressive, and I manage to arrive before the busloads of tourists. I walk between interesting debris of carved stones from the Theater showing theatrical masks and beautiful reliefs of birds, mythological scenes, and, of course, the ever-present Muses. Then I climb all the way to the top, 38 rows above the skene, for a complete overview of the modern town of Demre and to get a feeling of what the theater-goers in early times must have seen looking towards the sea. Several rows lower, I walk the well-preserved diazoma whose face is rich with inscriptions, niches, and reliefs. The holes in the terraces once held wooden posts to which sunshades could be fastened, just like I have seen before in Limyra and Arykanda. A real touch of luxury, and why not? It seems that in the 3rd century AD, the theater was even used as a circus and for water sports!

Left of the Theater, I can’t miss seeing the many Lycian tombs cut out in the face of the rocks, but they are not accessible to visitors; only the ones of the eastern necropolis are. So I set off to that side, but then I didn’t find any path in spite of my repeated attempts through the orange groves and medlar orchards. I see a signpost indicating that the Lycian Way passed here, but I wish the backpacker good luck in finding out where he is going, for I can’t, and honestly, after yesterday’s experience hunting for Rhodiapolis, I lack the energy to investigate much further. An old woman kindly tries to put me back on track, handing me a couple of sweet apples, but in vain! OK, that was that.

[read further in Myra, the city of Saint Nicolas]
[Click here to see all the pictures of Myra]

Arykanda 2 - Visiting the site

The Civic Agora that I reach first is, in fact, an Agora without shops around it, dating from the 4th century AD. It is a wide and flat space, enclosed on three sides by what was once a wooden portico situated a few feet higher than the square itself. It may have been paved with mosaics, but that is not certain. The old tree in the center of the Agora has a solid grip on the remains of a temple supposedly dedicated to Tyche.

From the wooden portico, a triple portal gave access to the Odeon that, at a certain time, doubled up as a Bouleuterion. It dates from the 2nd century AD and still stands up to its roof. It must have been a very luxurious building when the walls, orchestra, and seats were covered with colored marble.

The Terrace Bath, a little further to the west, proudly shows traces of colored plaster on its walls, but I find it hard to figure out the Nymphaeum among all this rubble unless it is part of what I take for a cistern. Walking over bits of paved streets and ancient staircases, my mind is playing tricks on me, and it feels as if I am moving in a time before mine. It all looks so real!

I continue my climb to reach the Market Agora. Here, a 137 m long Stoa runs along the northern edge, giving access to twelve shops that made perfect use of the difference in elevations. The pavement is rather simple, made of flat white leftover rubble, it seems, efficiently put together. Three steps higher, at the end of the Stoa, I access the real Bouleuterion, cut into the rock. It must have fallen into disuse after a destructive earthquake. The seats look very worn down, so I suppose this construction was exposed to weather and winds for centuries. To the west are the remains of the Sebastaion, a sacred house that was later transformed into a private residence with an atrium. I can’t believe there is so much left and so much to see. It is like visiting a real city!

On a higher terrace behind the Market Agora stands the crepidoma of the Temple of Helios that looks as if it were built in the middle of a road, but this is simply the propylon leading to the Temple from either side. Unfortunately, it is not known what this Hellenistic Temple looked like, for the stones have been reused for the construction of a Roman grave. It is, however, atypical because the longer sides are amazingly the ones facing east/west. Archaeologists have found two altars here, one carrying the Greek inscription ΗΛΙΟΥ and the other, late Roman-early Byzantine, depicting Helios with a halo. Statues of Asclepius and Hygeia confirm that the temple was shared with other gods. It still looks charming and impressive with its shiny white blocks framed in the young green grass around it.

One level below this Market Agora, I find an enormous Cistern with a barrel vault and waterproof walls that apparently was used up till the 5th-6th century AD. It is said to have a capacity of 800 tons, but I have no idea how this contributes to its size.

My path now takes me higher uphill, eastwards along dull rock tombs, nothing more than holes in the hillside. But then suddenly, after a turn between the pine trees, I catch my first glimpse of the Theatre. I stop in my tracks, for this is magnificent, white, and bright as if newly built. As I stare at this picture-perfect Theater, ideally nestled against the hill, I feel literally transported back in time! No wonder I entirely forgot my trail up to the Acropolis on the other side of the hill.

This Greek Theater was built some time between the 1st century BC and the 1st century AD and has twenty rows of seats starting right at the orchestra. At the edge of every row are holes that could have held the beams supporting the sunshade. Amazing! I try the stairs up and down, looking at the unique Lycian landscape and the obvious remains of the skene. I sit there for a while, enjoying the quietness of the place, and it is as if the spirits of the past come alive in a gentle murmur – only disturbed by the songs of the many birds. I picture Greeks and Romans sitting on these very benches, talking to their neighbors about the events of the day or in simple anticipation of the play they are going to see. Time just does not exist in a place like this - very special indeed!

Right above this Theater lies the Stadium, built in the 1st century BC, in the shape of a running track. It is smaller than the normal standards, measuring 106 by 17 meters, with only a few step-like seats on the north side still in place. The wall behind them somehow reminds me of a Doric temple façade with eight niches and belongs to an earlier construction. The Stadium underwent serious repairs after the earthquakes of 141 and 240 AD and, like the Theater, is in excellent condition. The view towards the sea is too hazy, unfortunately, but inland, it feels like an eagle’s eye perspective.

Squeezed between the Stadium and the Theater are the remains of a Byzantine House, complete with mosaic floors and thick walls, and apses that remind me of a Basilica. It is clear that each time period has left its own imprint on this city.

Tracing my way back to where I parked my car, I unexpectedly find myself in the Temple of Trajan or Sebastaion with niched walls (the back wall seems ready to topple over!). Blocks from this Temple have been reused in Byzantine times for the construction of the adjacent Basilica, dated to the late 5th or early 6th century AD, based on the floor mosaics. The Basilica did not live long and was probably devastated by the earthquake of 560.

By now, it is nearly one o’clock, and I surely can use a break after all this climbing. I’m so glad I took a walking stick with me, for the hillside is steep, and the scree makes any foothold highly insecure! There are two more cars parked next to mine now, and the guard in charge is checking the visitors, waiting for me to pay my entrance fee. He speaks English, and of course, he wants to know where I’m from, where I’m staying, and what I have seen so far. What time did you arrive at the site? Ten o’clock? Yes, I thought I saw you drive up (you’ll never pass by a Turkish house without being noticed!). His daughter is at the university in Cyprus, studying the English language, and she is his pride – rightfully so! He points at the folder I am carrying under my arm, my homework with all the information about the sites I plan to see. Can he have a look? His reaction is almost instantaneous: this is the map from the book! Of course, it is. I know what he means: the plan of Arykanda, of which I made a copy from the book on Lycia (by Cevdet Bayburtluoğlu) to carry with me instead of the heavy booklet. He has the book in his store, he says, hoping for a customer. Too bad for him, for I already have it!

I grab my lunch and a fresh bottle of water from the car and settle in the shade of an old tree overlooking the Arykanda Valley. On a clear day, the Aegean should be visible from here. The ever-present stray dog is getting lazy and settles in his corner, keeping one eye on me and my food, I suppose.

I’m glad to get a rest, and slowly, my energy is flowing back. Time to visit the eastern side of Arykanda. Excavations on this site started in the 1970s, and the archaeologists accomplished miracles. Since the ruins have been hidden for the past two thousand years or so, the stones all look as fresh and pristine as on the day the buildings were erected. That is what makes this site so unique and very much alive, too – not a dead city as we so often encounter!

Close to my parking space are the Byzantine remains with mosaics under plastic roofs that I noticed upon arrival. They seem to belong to the Bishop's Palace with a large hall, probably used as a reception area, a separate household space, kitchens with amphorae for oil and grain, and niches in the walls for oil lamps, and even a bathroom and toilets.

On the lowest terrace lies what is supposed to be the largest bath complex in Lycia, still virtually intact in its sequence of arches, converted into a Bath-Gymnasium probably after the earthquake of 141 and repaired again between the 3rd and 6th century AD. However, the activities of this complex were gradually taken over by the nearby Small Bath. I am especially impressed by the bay window of the Large Bath, and I think this must have been the Solarium, but nothing much has been done here to clear the trees and undergrowth, and I cannot really get in there either. Well, we have to leave something for future excavations, too, right?

Further to the east, there are many necropolises only partially dug out, if not simply left as they were found. But the beauties are alongside the avenue above the Bath Complex. Stately and sumptuous Temple Tombs are aligned here, vaulted or not, sheltering Lycian or simple rectangular sarcophagi, often carrying Greek inscriptions. They are all richly decorated, and I feel exceptionally rewarded when facing the ornately carved doorway of a Roman Tomb that was described with much enthusiasm by Charles Fellows in the mid-1800s. The winged figures on either side of a bust over the lintel are badly eroded but clearly visible. The chamber itself is 20 feet square, and the five-foot-wide benches are still leaning against the three walls. The back wall is, as he described, made in polygonal masonry, but I could not find any trace of the painted plaster on the ceiling that he mentioned.

Well, so much for Arykanda. Such a gem, and I’m terribly happy that I could take my time to visit it without being bothered by the hordes of tourists. I feel very fortunate indeed!

[Click here for Arykanda 1 - Getting to Arykanda]

Arykanda

My plan today is to visit Arykanda, renowned as being the Delphi of Turkey, and it turns out that this title is not exaggerated. I read that Arykanda overlooks a magnificent valley and that the view makes it one of the most spectacular sites in close competition with Ephesus and Pergamon. It goes without saying that it is one of my top priorities.

The smell of spiced herbs mingles with the sweet, penetrating perfume of orange blossoms when I leave my hotel in the early morning. Traffic in Finike is busy with the Saturday market and the road works as I drive between houses and shops till the sign “Uçumlar, Güle, güle” waves me out. This turns out to be a last greeting from civilization as settlements suddenly become sparse. The road winds between steep green mountains richly covered with thick pine trees. I am all eyes for this is Alexander-country (at least for me!), a majestic and commanding landscape with high peaks crowned with snow. It is a little hazy, not exactly ideal for taking pictures, but my memory will record all the details. The road is twisting and climbing ever higher. Here and there, I catch a glimpse of houses and rows of trees, squeezed between plastic greenhouses that grow smaller at each turn. What a land! The road is well-maintained. This is not as obvious as it sounds, for although this is a centuries-old connection between Finike and Elmali, it has been improved only in the recent decades – lucky me!

After the village of Arif, I see the brown signpost to Arykanda. Yet it is pointing to a high cliff in front of which the locals are setting up their orange stalls. What is this? According to the Sunflower guide “From Antalya to Demre”, I have to make a right turn to reach the Agora of the ancient site, about one kilometer from here. I inspect the rocky wall in front of me, but find no entrance road. I take another look at my detailed map and finally realize that the road is to my right, half behind me, looking over my shoulder – a kind of hairpin turn. It is nothing more than a dirt path indeed, and I pray that I won't meet a car or tractor coming from the opposite direction, but all goes well, and I find a space to park. I am the only car and the only visitor, and like the day before, there is nobody to buy my ticket from. Well, my presence will be known soon enough, knowing the Turks …

I’m deeply impressed by what I see. Such a big city! It is so wonderfully well-preserved and excavated - a real gem with many streets and staircases still intact, two Agoras, remains of temples and private Roman houses with mosaics, Basilicas, and cisterns. I feel like a kid in a toy store, I want to see it all at once! Where shall I start? I decide to climb uphill to the two Agoras and adjacent buildings, as at this time of day, it is still cool. To my surprise, there is a billboard with a map of Arykanda and another one with a list of the buildings pointing me in the right direction. These buildings are numbered and referenced on the map, and they match the copy of the map I took with me from Cevdet Bayburtluoğlu’s book on Lycia – well, no wonder, for he is the archaeologist responsible for these excavations!

The Lycian city of Ary-ka-wanda, “the place near the high rocks”, is known to be one of the oldest sites, where even coins from the 5th century BC have been found. My friend Alexander the Great has stopped here on his way from Milas to Phaselis, but if there is any hard proof to this story, I don’t know, for I haven’t found one. After his death, the city was ruled by the Seleucids and afterwards by the Ptolemaic dynasty. It is said that the tension between Limyra and Arykanda, for whatever reason, prevented the influence of Ptolemy from spreading further inland through the valley of Arykandos. In the 2nd century BC, Arykanda joined the Lycian League, and from 43 AD, the city belonged to the Roman province of Lycia and Pamphylia. It even survived Byzantine times, until the 9th century, when the settlement moved to a new site south of the modern road. Luckily for us, the marble and limestone remains have been spared the lime kilns, as no large town was built in the neighborhood. Besides, much of the site has been covered by landslides, meaning that Arykanda's buildings were well hidden. This is why the excavated remains look so clean and almost new. Built upon five large terraces on a mountain slope, the city is quite unique. It was known for having the most pleasure-loving and entertainment-loving (and debt-ridden) citizens. So when in 197 BC they supported Antiochus III in his fight against Ptolemy, it was not so much a political move, but mainly to get their creditors off their backs. Nothing’s new under the sun!

Time to start exploring the site! I’m curious what the plastic roofs next to the parking are sheltering, and I see that there are mosaic floors underneath that seem to belong to a Basilica. Yet I leave this side of the city for later and set off to higher grounds.

[read further in Arykanda 2 - Visiting the Site]