An unexpected visit to Antiphellos - Lycian Coast 10

After lunch on board and a short break, Peter takes us to explore old Kaş or Antiphellos, as it was called in antiquity. Antiphellos was the harbor for the town of Phellos, further inland that lived mainly from agriculture. To ship out their produce, they needed Antiphellos (no roads, remember?), but the location was a haven for ships from as early as 2000 BC.

It is clear that Antiphellos was invaded by the Persians in the middle of the 6th century BC, but that did not stop its trading business, and the city even prospered in the 5th and early 4th century BC. Antiphellos was represented with one vote at the Lycian League and was known to mint its own coins. Since the Lycian writing has not been entirely deciphered yet, there are still many gaps in the history of Lycia waiting to be filled.

We head to the left on a road that runs more or less parallel to the seashore and discover the remains of a solid wall. In fact, this is the temenos of a Hellenistic Temple with walls of bulged stones as has become fashionable after Alexander’s time. Nothing much is known about this temple but then no serious excavations have been carried out either.

The walk continues uphill, a little more inland, and another wall appears to my right, i.e., the sidewall of a beautifully preserved theater with 26 rows still in place and used by the locals for their wrestling contests and other happenings. This is definitely a Hellenistic construction and offers a sweeping view over Kaş and the surrounding islands. The center has been filled with earth and gravel to recreate a podium for today’s performances, but all traces of the skene are gone. It may never have been built, or it may have disappeared after the severe earthquakes that hit Lycia, since we know that Antiphellos was one of the cities that received donations from our friend Opramoas of Rhodiapolis. As always, the theater is a beautiful spot to linger for a moment.

As the top row seats meet the level of the land behind it, we walk that way, passing a few hardly recognizable remains of sarcophagi as the materials have been taken elsewhere for reuse. But the big rock tomb we see next has been cut out of the solid bedrock and, luckily for us, could not be taken apart. The triglyphs have fallen down, but the guttae give an indication of where they once belonged. Stepping inside over the ridge of the sliding door, I find the floor and walls rather rough in comparison to the smooth finish outside, but then the space has been used over the centuries – just look at the blackened ceiling! Right, the same problem was encountered in Petra, where they had to force the locals out as recently as the 1990’s! Peter pulls out his flashlight, and surprising details now appear. This was a tomb for six persons, and the edges of two of the benches are delicately decorated with floral motifs, while the wall opposite the entrance shows a band filled with dancing girls moving around in fluffy dresses. This tomb too should be dated to the 5th-4th century BC. Gee, how wonderful! Imagine walking here, in the middle of nowhere, and suddenly coming across such an exceptional burial place!

We stroll back to Kaş, arriving at the Lycian sarcophagus on the main street that I saw this morning. That sums up what is left of Antiphellos. Maybe someday, someone will further investigate this area.

In fact, we were supposed to walk to the lost city of Phellos today, the longest walk on our program, but with the storm hovering above us, it did not sound like a good idea. Nobody wanted to slip on the wet bedrock or to be soaked by a sudden downpour, even if we had to miss the stunning views. It’s a pity, but our safety comes first, of course.

Before supper, we set out for a drink. Peter recommended an old cistern in the basement of a flashy bar nearby. It is amazing to see how the water is still in there and how old columns support the bar floor above, but the place smells musty and closed up, not very inviting, and we opt for the town square instead. Dinner is served on board at 8 p.m. We feel safe at our anchor place in Kaş harbor, and our many neighbors are very quiet. I sleep tight, only to awaken from time to time by the wind whistling and howling in the rigging. Poor fellows who are still out at sea tonight!

[Click here for all the pictures of Antiphelos (Kas)]

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The flooded remains of Kekova Island and Uluburun - Lycian Coast 9

Breakfast at 8.30 a.m. The captain checks the weather forecast, and we are in for more wind in the afternoon and definitely rain earlier in the day. This means we can forget today’s walk to Kyaenai, one of the most remarkable Lycian towns. Sad and very disappointing. Imagine, now that I can walk again, the walk is canceled! Besides, how will I ever manage to see Kyaenai? Well, there is nothing I can do about it. We should have made a better offering to the weather gods, I suppose?

The captain is very obliging and takes the Almira close under the north side of Kekova Island, where no diving or swimming is allowed and where we can plainly see the Byzantine remains at close range. The city dates back to the 5th century AD when pilgrims stopped here on their way to the Holy Land. The seashore buildings are now partially underwater; some have entirely collapsed, and others are still standing ashore, showing their proud remains. It is interesting to see the square holes in the walls where wooden beams held up the roof, one of the many cisterns, a staircase disappearing under water, or sewage run-off dropping vertically into the sea. Sometimes the contours of a house are outlined on the rock wall. By 655 or so, the city was raided and destroyed by the Arabs crusading in the name of Mohamed. It has been left behind precisely as we find it today, except that the northern side of Kekova is now slowly tilting downwards under sea level.

From here, we venture to open seas, and the waves gain in height and turn shallow. It feels like a rodeo ride by now, and it is wise to grab a hold before walking on deck. Then comes the rain! A true downpour. The full gale hits us as we all scramble to the galley. This is no joke, for many a seafarer has lost his life in these waters. We gather around the table below, watching the water rushing over the windows and feeling the wind pushing and pulling our gulet. The captain keeps her head in the wind as much as possible, but this is hard work.

The story of the oldest shipwreck ever found in these waters near Uluburun comes to my mind. When I was in Bodrum this spring, Peter took us to the museum to admire the relics and treasures of this ship that went down in a storm in 1350 BC.

Sitting cozily together in the galley, Peter (see: Peter Sommer Travels) relates the story again to our eager group. This is an opportunity to jot down the facts and figures I heard a few months ago. The wreck was found at a depth of 30 meters, and it took the expert divers 22,430 dives to bring the entire cargo to the surface as they could only stay down for 20 minutes at the time. The archaeologists figured out that the ship was on her way from Egypt to the Black Sea, loaded with her precious cargo: 234 copper ingots or 10 tons from Cyprus; tin ingots to make bronze (copper + tin) from Persia; a gold scarab of Nefertiti; golden pendants; the oldest book in the world, i.e., two wooden flaps coated with wax and tied together; lapis lazuli from Afghanistan; amphorae and pots for olive oil and wine; weapons, a bronze dagger, a trident; ivory and ebony from Syria; 175 glass ingots mixed with cobalt and turquoise for coloring also from Syria; 11 stone anchors; a silver bracelet; gold and silver jewelry scraps for melting; amber from the Baltic Sea; oil lamps; ostrich eggs from Africa; ropes and twines; a sound box for a lute made of tortoiseshell; weights for scales, etc. In my mind, I am back in the museum and vision the pieces mentally. Imagine the cargo of just one ship! How many more ships were sailing these seas? How many went down? How many anchored in these harbors, loading and unloading their precious cargo, exchanging goods and the latest news? It is challenging to picture how lively these harbors were in antiquity!

At last, we reach Kaş, and the captain knows how to maneuver his gulet between the welcoming arms of the jetties. All ends well. A loud applause for the captain and the crew! Hurray! Now that the gangway is lowered, we can go ashore as we please. It is still raining, and I enjoy a cup of Turkish coffee, waiting for the weather to clear up. Lunch will not be served before 1.30 p.m., so I have plenty of time anyway.

Kaş, once famous for its sponges, is not unpleasant, rising almost straight from the sea to the mountains around it. Around the harbor, the many souvenir shops offer a variety of articles that are the same everywhere, from the simple Turkish lucky-charm eye to Iznik tiles, from kilims and carpets to jewelry and all kinds of so-called antiques. Strolling up the main street, I suddenly come face to face with a full-size Lycian sarcophagus, where the street splits in two. Can you believe it? The old tree next to it seems to have grown over its entrails and somehow shelters the tomb with its awkward arms. This sarcophagus carries beautiful lion heads on the beams and an inscription in Lycian on the sides. It seems to be standing here since the 4th century BC! This means it has been looking down on the town’s daily life for 2,500 years! Just try to imagine what this means! I can’t.

I find the bookstore where they sell a map of Lycia. I wanted it to follow our travel route, including the Lycian Way, for I am having difficulty figuring out where I am. I look at the books about Lycia but see they are published in the UK. So I might get them cheaper, if not for the same price, without carrying them on the plane. I do look for a supermarket though, for if there is one thing I want to buy, it is tea (of course!). When that is done, I walk back to the harbor and come suddenly across another Lycian sarcophagus, less fancy than the one uptown but framed in pink laurel and overlooking the bay.

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A day for reflexion in the heart of Lycia - Lycia Coast 7

A day to relax, what else can I do? Breakfast at 8.45 a.m. is served as usual under the outside awning and our table is as richly provided as ever. Beside the tasteful Turkish bread, we have a choice of sliced tomatoes, sliced cucumbers, green and black olives, spam with pistachios, goat cheese, yellow cheese, yoghurt, jam and honey. Eggs are served in various ways: soft boiled, hard boiled, scrambled, sunny side up or as eggy bread, i.e. French toasts. Water, coffee and tea ad libitum. Nobody is still hungry after that!

The motor is started and we head for Üçağız to get supplies. My companion travelers go ashore but I stay behind, feeling kind of lazy. I get a nice cup of Turkish coffee from Fatuşa, our cook, and move to the shade of our big awning, legs up on one of the big rolls and a cushion under my head. The rocking of the boat is soothing and I fall asleep. Around noon the shoppers return and I wake up. The gulet now moves to the next cove that is unfortunately crowded with day tourists swimming and screaming, having a good time celebrating the end of Ramadan – I guess.

Everybody is enjoying a wonderful swim (except me, of course). Some are even daring enough to take a solitary kayak peddle along the spectacular coastline. Gee, how I envy them. The goats in their black, white and beige furs watch us with skeptical eyes.

After lunch and a short siesta, my fellow travelers head for Kale, ancient Simena, for the afternoon walk up to the castle of Kaleköy, meaning “castle village". The top of the village is dominated by a well-preserved castle built by the Knights of Rhodes partially on top of ancient Lycian foundations. The castle houses a small theater, cut into the rock, seating about 300 people, a sign that this was a minor settlement in Roman times. I have decided not to go along and to give my ankle time to recover. Besides, this is the one place I visited already in Spring on my Alexander tour, so I am not really missing much. The climb to the summit, as I remember, through the small village was very worthwhile. It was wonderful to just sit in the little theatre and gaze out over the bay to Kekova below. The odd Lycian tombs lying around reminding you of where you were and the one Lycian sarcophagus popping up from the water seemed to come from another world altogether.

As I am making myself comfortable, a local woman oars alongside trying to sell her colorful goodies: beads, scarves, napkins, doilies, etc. Then all is quiet and I grab another nap. When I awake the sun is setting in a perfect scale of oranges and my companions return.

Tonight we are having octopus for dinner, the captain’s catch. I never tasted octopus before and I find the meat surprisingly tender, somehow reminding me of mackerel – yet in a much nobler form, of course! Fatuşa serves it baked garnished with dill. As usual there is much more food to go around: backed aubergines with chopped meat, rice, baked potatoes, grated radices marinated in lemon and a mixed salad of lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers. For desert, more healthy stuff: a choice of yellow melon and juicy pears – pealed and ready to eat. By the time we finish this lavish meal it is 10 p.m. and time to turn in. See what tomorrow will bring!

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Apollonia, Entirely new for me - Lycian Coast 6

Same reveille call as yesterday’s, and the minibus brings us from Kaş to the ancient city of Apollonia, at about one hour's drive. On our uphill drive, a large herd of angora goats is blocking our road in a solid traffic jam. Ancient skills and knowledge of the goat herder are all it takes to whistle the animals to one side of the road so our bus and other cars can move past. Apollonia lies next to the town of Kılınçlıköy, in fact, in the middle of nowhere, and we should carry plenty of water.

It feels like an early summer morning when we start out at Kılınçlı, where time again has come to a standstill. Roman-inspired wooden granaries blend in with crudely piled-up stone farmhouses. Our marble rubble path meanders between low stone walls till we reach a wide track that we cross. All of a sudden, but not unexpectedly, I see Lycian sarcophagi dotting the landscape. One sarcophagus has lions carved on the side beams, looking at each other; another proudly shows a starry sun inspired by the Macedonian emblem - probably a legacy of Alexander the Great’s followers and dating back to the 3rd century BC.

Nearly unnoticed and half-buried in the terrain lies a sizeable Roman cistern that must have held many gallons of fresh water for the city. Further down our path, we come across a Roman temple-tomb, inspired by the Lycian ones but wider with corner ornamentation representing the tree of life and topped with an Ionic capital, which in turn is crowned with a Corinthian acanthus. From the edge above, Medusa is looking down on us – just as she did in Roman times. Behind it runs a polygonal wall that must have been part of a Heroon dating back to the 5th or 4th century BC.

It is not known how important Apollonia was in Lycian times, although we do know that it had a place in the Lycian League, sharing its one vote with Aperlai and Istlada mid 2nd century BC, because of the coins that were discovered carrying the abbreviation AΠΟ. As far as I can see now, Apollonia was not a big city but ideally located on this hill-island in the middle of the valley floor where hundreds of goats are now grazing among the olive trees.

We walk all the way to the top, getting a closer look at the city walls and towers that were built in all sorts of styles: polygonal, Roman, classical, Byzantine, you name it. One of the city gates, obviously Byzantine, shows a lintel from an earlier Greek or Roman temple crowned with a bow of bricks alternating with carved stones in a colorful pattern. Since no noticeable excavations have been done, we have to crawl on hands and feet underneath the gate to jump to the lower floor of a well-preserved Byzantine Basilica.

The theater, of which only five or six rows remained, was built on a natural slope. This seems to indicate that it dates back to Hellenistic times. Further among the ruins, we find the bottom part of an antique olive grinder, a perfectly circular groove in the rock with a runoff channel for the oil on the side. Fascinating! We have not invented anything new!

We now start off on our walk down to Aperlai and our boat. The terrain is lunar-like with spirals and protruding rocks all around us. Soon, we meet up with the Lycian Way, meandering between the limestone rocks and Mediterranean shrubs. At times, it is simply rough walking when our feet roll over the scree, and at other times, we seem to be jumping from one solid rock to the next. Lots of holly-oak trees grow here, mingled with occasional olive, almond, or carob trees. They offer a welcome shade in this unforgiving landscape, and we seat ourselves in their comfortable shade at regular spaced intervals for a sip of water or a nibble of the fresh almonds or carob pods that Ivşak picked for us.

After a while I gain confidence walking the uncomfortable terrain, and I enjoy every step of it till at only 20 minutes from our waiting boat, I trip. I try to catch my balance, only to trip again, grabbing around for a hold of what turns out to be one of the many spiky plants. Ouch! I get a handful of nasty, tiny splinters, and my whole hand seems to be on fire! Some of the splinters are bleeding, even not a fair sight. But what’s worse, I twisted my foot. My fellow travelers make me sit down. I ask for water on my hand to soothe the pain and clean off the blood. Peter has his big bottle of water handy, rinses off the blood, and applies antiseptic gel. That’s better. Now my foot, that is another story. I can stand on it, but not really walk – at least not on this terrain. If I put it down on a flat level, it is OK, but with all the rocks and rubble around, it is not evident at all. Finally, I work it out with two walking sticks, one on each side, to support me where the foot fails. I feel stupid, but this cannot be undone. Luckily, it happened on our last stretch, but I am keeping everybody behind, while we were doing so well time-wise! One of my fellow travellers is kind enough to carry my rucksack and to clear the path for me when there are too many loose rocks around. At long last, I can see the sea. Thank God! On the beach, a lonely half-sunken Lycian sarcophagus acknowledges that I have reached Aperlai. The ruins of this Lycian city are hidden behind the trees. Nothing much has been done here either to clear the site, and the few ruins seem to be part of the old castle and city walls, while the only building to speak of is the Byzantine church. I have no wish to set one step more than absolutely necessary. All I can focus on is reaching Peter and the others waiting for me at the end of a narrow, lumpy jetty from where the dinghies take us to the Almira in the middle of the bay. I am not really in pain, but rather annoyed with myself! Gee, am I glad to be back on board!

While we were away, Mehmet has been dive-hunting successfully for octopus, and the crew caught a decent meal of fish that will soon land on our plates! All sails are hoisted now, and we head towards Kekova Island for the night. What a life, just drifting with the winds and the waves!

Three other boats are anchored in our cove, which is big enough for all of us, though the captain chooses a spot at the far end. Unfortunately, there is a party going on aboard one of the vessels, with blaring junk music. We cannot even hold a basic conversation at our dinner table – very unpleasant to say the least. But, as a good captain, Mehmet speaks to the people on the noisy boat. It takes a while, but eventually they tune their music down, and we are enjoying a pleasant and peaceful night. The stars are all out again to keep watch over us.

[Click here for all the pictures of Apollonia]

Click on the Label Lycian Coast to read my full story