Exploring Olympos, next to Chimera

From the main road, I follow the signpost down to Olympos through the splendid Lycian landscape of pine trees amidst park-like grassland full of spring flowers. Olympos has been well-investigated by the archaeologists from Antalya, but in the heavy overgrowth of spring, it looks as if everything is still to be discovered. Luckily, plenty of signs guide me through the remains hidden in the thick bushes, brushes, and swamped reeds behind the dirt road leading to the pebble beach.

I start along the north side of the river with crystal clear water (that has not changed course since antiquity), noticing the remains of a bridge that once crossed it and seems to date from Roman times. Behind the dirt road, only vague footpaths run among the tombs. They are mainly vaulted family graves bearing Greek inscriptions about the deceased on the marble lintels above the entrance gate. It is fun in a way, for it seems like detective work to locate them hidden in the clusters of low trees, half buried in eons of soil and marshy deposits.

Back on the dirt road, I am directed towards a Temple through lush greenery. In a clearing, the five-meter-high temple doorway suddenly faces me. It has a beautifully decorated lintel with consoles of big acanthus leaves at each corner and unfinished pearl motifs around the sides of the door jambs. This portal belongs to a Roman Temple built in Ionic style, apparently between 161 and 180 AD, according to an inscription stating that it once held a statue in honor of Marcus Aurelius. I peep around the corner, but except for the entrance, there are hardly any walls to speak of, and the floor is a rubble of broken blocks that may be sorted out one day. Somebody took the measurements of this temple, however, and came up with 10.5 by 12.5 meters.

I jump over a few narrow streams, but I stop in my tracks at the sight of an aqueduct (a walled canal system according to the Turkish translation) running parallel with one of the rivulets. My path runs through the bottom of the canal, one meter wide by one meter high, I guess. How exciting! It runs straight, makes a sudden turn, joins up with a side canal, and runs on further into the thickets. I keep marveling at this centuries-old work of art that still carries traces of paint, and I reflect on how easy it would be to lead the spring water back through the bedding of this aqueduct.

I stop at the remains of an imposing Mausoleum on my left, built for three tombs and called the Lyciarch Grave, dating from the second half of the 3rd century AD. Originally, it was roofed with a vault that had collapsed. The rough outer walls now shelter only two sarcophagi, as the central and most beautiful one has been taken to the Museum in Antalya. Measuring 2.4 x 1.15 m and one meter high, the crystallized white marble is decorated with columns and band motifs in relief. The well-preserved lid shows a couple, a man, and a woman, lying down. I must have seen it in Antalya earlier this year, but I probably didn't pay too much attention. One of the billboards gives a translation of the inscription that was found on the tomb: "I, Lyciarch Marcus Aurelius Archepolis from Olympos, also known as Hoplon, son of Rhesimachos also called Diotimos (constructed) this grave for my dear father Rhesimachos, also called Diotimos and my dear brother Marcus Aurelius Menodoros, also called Rhesimachos, and for myself and for the persons that I determined in my will. There will be no permission for any other person to be buried in it. Otherwise, the burying person will pay 2,000 silver coins to the Sacred Treasury of the Empire". Five generations in all have been buried here together.

On the right-hand side of the U-shaped podium stands the so-called Hoplon Sarcophagus (one of the foremost families of Olympos), made of white marble with gray veins imported from Marmara Island, that has approximately the same measurements as the previous one. The longer side is decorated with three stylish garlands, and the inscription on the podium reads: "Hoplon from Olympos built this grave for his relatives, father and mother, himself, nephew Gagatis and his wife Melitine." Any other person will be fined and thrown out. No kidding! The sarcophagus on the left is of the chest type and not as well preserved. I'm amazed to learn that it is made of crystallized white marble when staring at this grayish-dark tomb, whose long side has been pieced together again. Its measurements are again comparable to the two other tombs in this Mausoleum.

My canal road takes me further into the bushes, and after a sharp left turn, the soil is rather swampy and muddy. I move cautiously between the reeds and yellow irises, following the sign "Mosaics." And here they are, pieces of a two-story building that may have been a Basilica or the Bishop's Residence built at the end of the 5th century AD. The rough walls show decorative brickwork, and I find plenty of mosaics representing birds and other animals on the floor of the asymmetrical rooms.

Returning along the channel to the main road, I glimpse slender arched windows resting on a polygonal wall of what once were the Harbor Walls on the other side of the river. It is hard to imagine that both banks of this now shallow stream are half hidden in the reeds, and sweet laurel was a sheltered mooring place for the ships sailing the Aegean! But it definitely is a unique photo opportunity.

I now reach the place where the Acropolis rises high above the city, but I find it far too risky to climb, even if the view over the beach must be worth it! In the shady thickets at the bottom of this hill, I come across a lonely sarcophagus dedicated to Antimachos. It is a typical Lycian saddle-back model from the end of the 2nd century AD. Nothing special or out of the ordinary, but finding it so unexpectedly in the middle of nowhere is exciting! The pseudo-door on the short end represents the entrance to Hades, the underworld, while the family tree motive on the corner plaster stands for eternity – a tradition that started around 3000 years BC, so it says.

Right next to the beach and protected by an unkept, rough wooden fence, I see two splendid examples of vaulted sarcophagi – thoroughly cleaned and restored. The one facing me carries a relief of a galley – a rarity, I am told. The Greek inscription in the frame above states that the tomb belonged to Captain Eudemos, who sailed to Marmara and the Black Sea and had a good reputation. He had honorary citizenship of Chalcedon (today, part of Istanbul). The boat resembles a sponge fishing boat with a relief of Aphrodite on the keel, who is supposed to protect the sailors. There is another inscription next to the framed one saying:

"The ship has entered and anchored in the last port, for not to go out any more

For there is no more benefit from the wind nor from the daylight

After leaving the morning twilight captain Eudemos

Buried there his short-lived ship like a broken wave.

The second sarcophagus is less photogenic but carries a lengthy Greek text without explanation or translation. Such a pity, for it may have revealed interesting details or the reason why it was put in this protected place.

The beach view exceeds my expectations as the entire setting, with the river and the rock formations, is so different from what I have seen in Lycia before. On my left, to the North, I see modern houses and hotels leading to Kemer. Higher up the opposite southern hill lies the ancient Olympos city, quite an idyllic place with an arched rock enhancing the view. I take a break to enjoy the scenery before I trace my steps back on the dirt road.

I remember seeing a signpost pointing across the river towards the Theater, and I walked back to that point. The riverbank is steep and slippery, but I find the path running over boulders carefully laid for a daring visitor like me. On the opposite bank, I dive into the thickets again, hoping to find the Theater - and I do! This Theater from the first half of the 2nd century AD is definitely Roman and resembles the one in Phaselis, but is in much poorer condition, probably due to the earthquake of 141 AD and more so after the quake of 240 AD. Unfortunately, during the Middle Ages, much of the material was removed for other constructions. I enter through a promising vaulted paradox but find very scattered tiers of seats. Amazingly, the archaeologists could identify twenty rows of seats after all, but it helped that the Theater was carved in the bedrock.

I walk on in the general direction of the Harbor when suddenly I see a good-sized limestone sarcophagus above me. The billboard reveals this is the Tomb of Alcestis or Aurelius Artemias and family from the 2nd century AD. The reliefs are worn down, but I recognize a figure of Nike on each of the four corners. The garlands and figures of Eros that stand for the four seasons are better preserved. On the long side, I find Artemis and her husband saying their goodbyes when leaving this world. The short sides are in better condition. One side shows a standing man and a veiled woman, and the other a veiled woman with a mace-bearing figure of Heracles, hence the deduction that the female figure may represent Omphale, but more likely Alcestis.

Reading up on its history, I learned that Olympos was founded in Hellenistic times, and by 100 BC, it was a major city with three votes in the Lycian League. During the 1st century BC, it was home to many pirates who threatened the interests of the Roman Empire, culminating in the conquest by Cilician pirates. Their leader was Zeniketes, who introduced the cult of Mithras exclusively for men, demanding the ritual sacrifice of bulls for the soul to gain redemption and immortality. In 78 BC, the Roman proconsul P. Servilius Vata chased and captured Zeniketes, razing the city to the ground. After the final defeat of the pirates in a significant sea battle by Pompey, the city became Roman, and the land was sold to new settlers. Roman soldiers continued the cult of Mithras, which spread across the entire Empire. In many garrison cities, Mitraea ceremonies developed in which the bull-killing god was worshiped.

In 130 AD, Hadrian visited Olympos and the Granary on the river's south bank probably dates from this time. In the aftermath of the earthquake of 141, it was again Opramoas of Rhodiapolis who donated 12,000 denarii "for festivities in honor of Hephaistos and the Emperor." The peak of development was reached during the 2nd and 3rd century AD, for after that, the lower city was sacked by pirates, and the population entirely abandoned Olympos in the 6th century. A true story of conquests and conquerors!

[Click here to view all the pictures of Olympos]

Chimera's eternal flames

Driving east from Finike, I'm heading for Chimera and Olympos. I find the car park at the foot of the hillside, next to a small café selling refreshments as mentioned in the Sunflower Guide “Turkish Coast, from Antalya to Demre”, as well as the clean toilets and the booth to buy my entrance ticket.

Chimera, once ornated with a Temple of Hephaistos, the Roman Vulcan, and god of fire, is now known by its Turkish name Yanartaş, meaning “burning mountain”. This is where the famous Bellerophon defeated the Chimera, a mythical fire-breathing being, partly lion, partly goat, partly snake, with the aid of his winged horse Pegasus. The Chimera may have been an important religious place of pilgrimage, dedicated to the blacksmith god – the legend going back to 1200 BC at least. The Chimera is the place where gasses from the entrails of the earth escape through cracks and holes in the rock and spontaneously start burning when in contact with the outside air. It is said that in antiquity the flames were higher and brighter, an ideal beacon for the seafarers. Alexander definitely must have seen this "fire mountain" in the shade of Mount Climax where the waves bowed to him.

Once again, I am the first visitor of the day. Originally, I planned to visit Olympos first and walk up to the Chimera from there, but I think it is wiser to do the climbing before the heat of the day picks up. According to my Sunflower Guide, the trip should take me between 20 and 30 minutes, at first ascending over a track and then over a stepped, well-maintained footpath through pine forests, following the red and white flashes of the Lycian Way. This information is entirely correct. The Lycian Way runs over a distance of more than 500 kilometers all across Lycia. It is comforting to know that this is not an isolated trail and I am glad I took my walking stick to help me up the high steps.

It is a rather strenuous climb and in between my huffing and puffing, I take the time to admire the spectacular Lycian landscape while sipping my water. I try to catch the moment with my camera but the outcome is poor. Everything is green, the grass and the weeds, the trees on the hillsides, and the pine trees with shiny needles in the foreground. The sharp rock formations are dull gray and the overall view is hazy because of the moisture in the air left by the rain of these past days and which the sun is trying to burn off. Somehow I am reminded of the sugar rocks around Rio de Janeiro, just as steep but not as green as here, I would say. There are however plenty of flowers, white and yellow ones mainly but also big wild lilac anemones. When I catch my breath again I can even hear the many birds singing in chorus. How wonderful!

A big rock along the trail carries a red-painted message “400 m” and I wonder what it means. Have I climbed to a height of 400 meters, have I walked 400 meters of the trail, or it is still 400 meters to the first flames? It surely has something to do with the Lycian Way running over this path, but that does not solve this enigma. Well, whatever. I scramble and groan my way further upwards and quite suddenly I reach an open rock space where I see the first flames. I don’t remember what I had in mind but the flames are definitively brighter and bigger than I expected. Strange things in the landscape, that’s for sure!

Shooting my pictures, I am amazed to see how clearly the flames are burning with a soft hissing sound and I even notice a faint smell of gas. At times there are clusters of two or three holes next to each other with flames licking the blackened rock around them. Turning around and to my left now below the flames, I see the ruins of a Byzantine church that must be standing on top of the ancient temple dedicated to Hephaistos. In fact, all I can see are the walls and cupolas still carrying clear traces of paint, but the building is mostly buried in the debris and I cannot find any indication of Roman or Greek architecture. Around the lowest fire, there are some loose carved blocks lying around that may refer to the altar that once stood in front of the Temple of Hephaistos. Who knows?

By now more visitors are reaching the flames. Time for me to turn around! Going down is much easier although I have to move with care as the steps are higher than you would think. Back at the parking space, I wonder if I could have some tea. This is Turkey after all, isn’t it? Yes, I can if I can wait that is because they just started the fire. I look at a kind of wood-burning stove with a high stovepipe and three (tea?) pots hanging from the hooks around it. A strange contraption that I don’t try to figure out. I settle for ice cream instead.

[click here for all the pictures of Chimera]

Lycia, worth to be known

Lycia is located in southern Turkey, roughly the big bulge between Marmaris in the west and Antalya in the east. It is mostly a mountainous knob that is connected to the rest of Turkey by two valleys only, the Xanthos Valley in the west and the Finike Valley in the east. Even today, roads are scarce and follow the same valleys. The main east-west traffic follows the coastal road between Fethiye and Antalya, which is constantly improved but still a lengthy affair, although it offers spectacular views!

To me, this is a true shrine of snowy mountain tops, deep gorges, and a wealth of archaeological sites with an unsurpassed rich history, going way back in time.

The Lycians were referred to as the Luwian people in early eastern and Egyptian inscriptions, i.e., the Luqqu or Luqqa from the 2nd millennium BC. Lycia’s main source of income came from its forests and trade with the ships that navigated along its coastline. Neighboring kings from Caria and Lydia tried but failed to conquer Lycia until the Persians under the Achaemenids managed to impose themselves. Persian rule was fierce and ruthless, and Xanthos resisted heavily, preferring even mass suicide rather than submission to the enemy.

The occupation took a different turn when Mausolos, the King and satrap of Caria, took over, forming a kind of buffer between the Persians and the Lycians. In the 4th century BC, a certain Pericles tried to unite all Lycian cities under one central rule, without success. It was Alexander the Great who put a final end to the Persian occupation; at the same time, he also stopped the use of the Lycian language in favor of Greek. After Alexander’s premature death and the fight of his successors over the territories he conquered, Lycia came under the rule of the Egyptian Ptolemaic in 310 BC, and in 301 BC it was ruled by Lysimachos, King of Syria. But this kingdom would not live long enough either, and finally, by the beginning of the 2nd century BC, Lycia came under the control of Rhodes with the influence of Rome.

Yet Rhodes did not give the Lycians fair treatment, and after many complaints, Rome found it reasonable to grant them their freedom. At this point, the Lycian cities all agreed it was time to unite, and the Lycian League, as dreamed of by Pericles, became a reality. The six main cities: Xanthos, Pınara, Tlos, Patara, Myra, and Olympos, were the administrative, judicial, military, financial, and religious centers, and each received 3 votes in the meetings of the League. Most of the other cities had one vote each, while some very small cities shared 1 vote (for instance, Istlada, Apollonia, and Aperlai). Some cities and small federal states were allowed to mint their own coins, provided they bore the inscription ΛΥΚΙΩΝ ΚΟΙΝΩΝ. This must have been an enormous boost to the Lycians’ pride, leading to their prosperity (see: The World's first parliament building - Patara)

During the 1st century BC, Lycia, with the rest of Anatolia, became a Roman province, but this domination had its good side too, for Rome had the power and the means to protect them against pirates, for instance. When their plundering of commercial ships and coastal cities went beyond limits, Manlius Vulso decided to go after them both by land and sea – and he was successful! The trade routes were open once again, and the economy developed.

But then, in the wake of the murder of Julius Caesar, Brutus arrived in Lycia. Finding no support for his cause, he slaughtered the inhabitants of Xanthos (a repeat of what the Persians had done a few centuries before). A year later, Marc Antony took over, and luckily, he decided to rebuild the cities, especially Xanthos. With the reign of Augustus, peace returned, at last, reaching its heyday under Trajan and Hadrian.

Unfortunately, in 141 AD, Anatolia, including Lycia, was hit by a severe earthquake, destroying many cities. Thanks to the contributions of rich citizens like Opramoas of Rhodiapolis, every single city between Phaselis in the east and Telmessus in the west was rebuilt, and Lycia continued developing. But then it was hit again by a major earthquake on the 5^th of August 240 AD, and the cities were equally destroyed – yet no money seemed to have been available for their reconstruction, and the entire region slowly fell into decline. By the 5^th century, the Byzantine Empire was crumbling down, and soon afterward, the Arabs invaded the territory.

Each and every site is worth discovering and visiting. One of the most thrilling experiences you can plan is to go out there by boat and explore this mysterious and unforgiving land from the sea. Personally, I have sailed this coast on board the Almira with Peter Sommer Travels, an experience that will last forever. Time truly comes to a standstill, and I easily pictured how the Phoenicians, the Greeks, the Romans, the merchants, and the pirates navigated along this coastline. It is no surprise either to hear that the oldest shipwreck (1350 BC) has been found near Uluburun, approximately in the middle of the bulge. The entire cargo has been rescued and is now on display at the Museum of Bodrum – a true revelation!

But not only are the coastal cities and sites worth a visit, Lycia has lots of hidden treasures off the beaten tracks of tourists and/or further inland. Although I have mentioned a few cities above, it is utterly impossible to draw an exhaustive list. Maybe I’ll add just a few names like Rhodiapolis, Limyra, Arykanda, Chimera, Phellos, or Letoon …

Unexpected visit to Tlos - Lycian Coast 15

Because of the storm earlier on our trip (see: Sheltering for a storm like in antiquity), our entire program has been pulled one day forward. As a result, we wind up with an extra day at the end of our tour, and Peter is giving us a choice: either take a two-hour walk behind Fethiye or visit the archaeological site of Tlos. We all agree on Tlos, which makes me personally very happy indeed!

First, we go to Fethiye, which is after a quick dip in the sea for my companions. Our bus pulls up around 10.30 a.m. to take us there, as our boat will join us later on. We will have about 1 ½ hours in town for shopping, and I set off straight to the Archaeological Museum (where else?). It is a small museum, a little old-fashioned, but it shows a couple of items that make it worthwhile for me. For instance, this is where I can find the mosaic from the Temple of Apollo in Letoon (4th century BC) and the stele with the law inscription of Pixodarus, satrap of Caria, in Greek, Lycian, and Aramaic, dating back to the time of Artaxerxes – both originals that I have seen in Letoon earlier this Spring. A smaller stele from Tlos, unique in its way, mentions how its citizens paid for the city's repairs after being hit by an earthquake. There are, of course, the usual and more common items like glassware, pottery, coins from different times and in different metals, golden jewelry, and parts of statues, mostly Roman. As always, I’m happy to see these items with my own eyes. After this most pleasant visit, I have time left for a Turkish coffee, and I find a kind of Konditorei that serves it with pistachio baklava on the side, right on the main street. Great! Just what I needed!

Fethiye stands on the site of the ancient Lycian city of Telmessus, whose remains include spectacular rock tombs and sarcophagi dating from the 5th-4th century BC. Other landmarks include the remains of a Byzantine fortress on top of a nearby hill, but somehow I missed noticing it. Much of the town is new, however, having been rebuilt after the terrible earthquake of 1958. There seems to be a Lycian sarcophagus well worth visiting, the so-called Tomb of Amyntas, dating from the 4th century BC, built in Doric style. So I’ll have to come back to Fethiye also.

Our meeting point is in front of the Roman Theater at the far end of the main road – easy to find, and I am there early enough to make my inspection tour. Fethiye’s theater was excavated from 1992 to 1995, but it still looks very confusing and overgrown. Built in the 2nd century AD, it was modified in Roman times and even converted into an arena with high walls around the orchestra to protect the audience from wild animals’ attacks. Part of the skene and proscenium has also survived, but it all looks very neglected. It provides, however, a sweeping view over the harbor, separated from the sea by a tranquil park where an oversized bronze pilot stares up at the sky. This is Fethi Bey, Turkey’s first aviation martyr, who crashed near Damascus in 1914 in an attempt to fly non-stop from Istanbul to Cairo. In honor of his heroic exploit, the city changed its original name from Meğri to Fethiye.

The Bay of Fethiye is very wide and large, and it seems to be a favorite spot for tourists and fishing boats alike. I spot the Almira with her green trimmings in the middle of the harbor, and moments later, I see our zodiac approaching with Peter on board. He carries our lunch for today, and it is about 1 p.m. when we set out for Tlos. This is a pleasant drive land inwards and I am all excited to enter the Xanthos Valley again, for this is Alexander territory.

Tlos, known as Tlava or Tlave in the Lycian language, goes back four thousand years, and it seems that even the Hittites referred to Tlos as Dalawa in the land of Luqqa. Tlos was one of the six cities that had three votes in the Lycian League, remember? The devastating earthquake of 141 AD hit the city severely, and once again, we have to thank our friend Opramoas of Rhodiapolis as well as Licinius Langus of Oenoanda, another rich Lycian, for the denarii they donated for the reconstruction. After being a diocese in Byzantine times, nothing major happened here until Ali Aga ruled over this region in the 19th century and built his stronghold right on top of the old Acropolis, where it still stands.

We park on a narrow local road and Peter and Ivşak carry our lunches into ancient Tlos, where we find the most exquisite picnic place: a series of blocks from the bathhouse that have been aligned in its shade with an eagle eye’s view over the historic valley below. We spread out the food on a table and helped ourselves. This is really something special, sitting here among those ruins, savoring the food in a place where Romans, Greeks, Lycians, and earlier civilizations lived centuries ago. The ancients must have spotted this place also and maybe savored their own snack while watching the scenery. It always makes me feel very privileged to sit in a place where people from times bygone have done so before. What were they seeing? What were they thinking? Whom did they talk to? This is beyond imagination, of course.

After clearing our tables, we take a closer look at this Roman Bath complex. The archaeologists have been working here in the past few months, and much of the soil and rubble have been removed from the Solarium, where, apparently, precious mosaics have been found and are now covered with plastic and dirt to protect them from the elements. It is remarkable how thick the layer of removed soil is over here, I would say 1.5 to 2 meters? It also shows how white the original building stones were. The different rooms of this bathhouse have not been mapped yet; all we know is that there are several more, but it is too early to know their exact location and function.

We pass the Byzantine Basilica, where all the trees and bushes have been cut down very recently, for the heart of the trunks and branches is still whitish. The overall plan is now plainly exposed, and we distinguish three wide naves with a central row of columns lying as they collapsed, with even a few traces of plaster left on the walls. This Basilica might be standing on top of an older temple; only time will tell.

Next to the Basilica stands the theater where the loose stones are already inventoried and may someday find their original position again. Parts of the skene and proscenium are still standing to the right with a remarkable window to the outside, and that may have been framed by a column on either side and covered with a protruding roof.

Inside the theater, the lower rows of seats have been cleared of rubble and soil. The big blocks are piled up near the skene, and the debris is neatly heaped up in the middle of the orchestra, waiting for a way to carry it outside. The benches of each row are still neatly aligned, with the lion's paws at the end. All around the top of the theater, high slabs are preventing the visitors from falling down as the theater’s back is not leaning against the hillside. The original construction is definitely Greek and adapted to Roman needs in later times as they did in Fethiye and in Patara. The bashed and battered VIP seats are now in the ambulatorium, meaning that here also the theater was turned into an arena. The vomitoria on either side are still filled with fallen stones and rocks, reminding me of Letoon. It will be interesting to return here in a couple of years to see the results of these excavations and restorations.

There is a group of Germans in the theater, and the guide is reciting the history of Lycia for the world to hear. We find this very disturbing and huddle together at one end of the seating rows, hoping that he’ll cut his oration short. He doesn’t and goes on and on about Chimaera and the Hittites and the Persians; where or when Tlos or this theater is fitting in his story remains an open question. Peter whispers a few facts and figures about this theater, and we are all very much relieved when the German group finally moves out. The poet in our group has decided it is time for a proper performance and treats us to some appropriate lines of Brutus from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. Wow! That is something else! We all watch and listen in awe. A lonely tourist taking detailed pictures stops in his tracks and watches him with respect. When, at the end, we all applaud, he shares our enthusiasm and claps with a broad smile on his face. Wonderful!

On the other side of the modern road, the Stadium has been unearthed, showing several rows of seats over the entire length, leaning against the Roman city wall. The floor itself is being used by the villagers for their good-looking crop of corn, but the spine of the stadium has been cleared and is plainly visible. It is easy to imagine races being held here, something like in the Ben-Hur movie.

The rocky hillside behind the Stadium was obviously a favorite spot for the Lycians to build their tombs, many showing early wooden door patterns. I even discovered one tomb that still has its sliding door in place! We try to move it, but it doesn’t budge. Maybe it needs some waxing to make it slide again, I wonder?

We climb higher up to the Acropolis, past a few typical, very weathered Lycian sarcophagi. The Acropolis itself has little to offer from ancient times, only the 19th-century walls of the fort that Aga Ali, also called Bloody Ali, built here. Yet the view over the Xanthos Valley is breathtaking! We can easily locate the old cities we visited on earlier trips: Sidyma, Pınara, and Patara further south, with at the far horizon the glittering Mediterranean Sea. This was definitely a most fertile valley, and it still is today with the many prosperous fields and healthy fruit trees, not at all touched by fall colors in this part of the country. This is mid-October, isn't it?

Well, so much for Tlos. We return to Fethiye, and at the foot of the Roman Theater, we say our goodbyes to Ivşak. Our poet has composed a short but warm thank-you poem, and Ivşak is rather moved by the entire event. I guess he did not expect such honor! Well, if you have a poem written especially for you and read to you in public, you would be moved too, wouldn’t you?

We return aboard the Almira and leave Fethiye harbor for a more remote and quieter anchor place, just a little further north. By the time we get there, darkness has already set in.

Click on the Label Lycian Coast to read my full story