The ancient city of Phaselis is sinking

It is a well-known phenomenon that the southern coast of Turkey is sinking and this can easily be seen off the coast of Andriake where tourists take tours in boats with a glass bottom to visit the remains of the sunken city of nearby Kekova. This is due to the fact the African platonic plate is pushing against and sliding over the Asian plate.

In antiquity, Phaselis was a privileged anchoring place since sailors could profit from the sheltered Southern Harbor which is generally used by today’s tourists, or the Northern Harbor which was and is accessible under all weather conditions, either by southwesterly and northeasterly winds. The Naval Harbor, in turn, was located deep inside the Northern Harbor and clearly extremely well protected. The harbor slowly silted up (see also: Phaselis and its three harbors).

Thanks to recent studies, geologists now have determined that ancient Phaselis has sunken almost two meters under today's sea level over the past 2,000 years. This is best seen at the entrance of the Northern Harbor where two islets near the entrance are all that remains of the pier that once connected the lighthouse at its far end to the mainland.

Turkey's southern coastline is slowly submerging with averages between three and nine centimeters each year. Once you know what to look for, you can easily find many examples of sunken houses and sarcophagi all along the Mediterranean from Caunos to Patara, to Simena and Side, including Phaselis.

The movement of the tectonic plates generates earthquakes which have hit the areas of Lycia and Pamphylia since antiquity. Especially catastrophic was the earthquake of 141 AD (well-documented because Opramoas of Rhodiapolis donated large sums for the reconstruction of more than thirty Lycian cities between Telmessus in the west and Phaselis in the east) and the one that occurred on the 5^th of August 240 AD when the same cities were destroyed once again.

This means that Phaselis is only one such example, but the phenomenon is worth noticing when walking among the beautiful remains of these once so proud and prosperous cities!

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.

Click on the Label Lycian Coast to read the full story.

Precious Sura and Andriake Bay - Lycian Coast 8

Today a visit to the ancient city of Sura is planned followed by a two-hour walk back to the boat. I’m having serious doubts whether or not to go along. Shall I take my chances and see how things work out? Or shall I listen to reason and skip another day of hiking? This is a tough nut to crack and I am very much upset with myself. After all, I joined this trip to see all these places that are not accessible by road and here I am, stuck with a twisted foot! I have a hard time convincing myself that I better rest for another day and enjoy the rest of the trip rather than forcing myself now and end up confined to the boat afterwards. Not easy and it is with pain in my heart that I watch the others putting their gear together and setting off to Andriake Bay on the mainland. I stay behind with the friendly crew as the gulet moves to Peter’s meeting point, a few hours from now.

This is a most peaceful bay, hidden away among the coastal islands with a handful of smaller sailboats for company. The stillness is healing. At a distance the fish are having fun, jumping in and out of the water with pleasant splashes. On the Lycian mainland, I hear the goats before I see them. They cleverly bounce from one rock to the next making their grunting sounds as if daring me to watch them. The waves are licking the rocks where our anchor rope has been secured and our Turkish flag unfolds in the sweet breeze. Except for the clashing of the pots and dishes in the galley, all is quiet. How blissful!

Since I am not seeing Sura “live”, this is a good time to do some reading up. Sura was famous for its oracle, not only in Lycia but all over the ancient world. The Temple of Apollo Surios, probably dating from Hellenistic times, was built next to the holy spring and it was here that the soothsaying took place based on the movement of the fish. Even in Christian times the place was considered sacred, for next to the temple the remains of an early church can be found. The origins of Sura are apparently not older than the 4th century BC, based on the findings around the Acropolis and the typical Lycian rock graves and sarcophagi. Well, I hope to visit the place some time in the future, even if I have to travel there on my own.

For now, I think it may be a good idea to get a foot massage and I climb down the ladder alongside the boat to sit on the bottom step. The water is a bit chilly but as I dip my leg in deeper water I notice a warm current underneath. Reflecting so close to the water level, I watch a school of small silvery fish swimming back and forth along the entire length of the gulet, changing course in a flash. In the crystal clear water, their belly almost looks phosphorescent. How fascinating!

Towards noon the wind is picking up, blowing almost straight from the south and our flag claps nervously around the pole. Fatuşa is starting lunch and the smell of pasta, onions and garlic drifts in the air, Turkish music keeping her company. I don’t mind the music for it blurs the harsh German talks from the nearby sailboat and the junk music from another gulet that has anchored opposite to ours and where everybody is screaming, jumping overboard with loud splashes. Around lunch time, hell breaks loose as one boatload of day-tourists after the other sets course to “our” bay to regurgitate its human contents in the welcoming blue seas. The idyllic cove turns into a playground and the serene shiny waters are disgraced by dozens of heads bobbing up and down like grim balloons.

By 1.30 p.m. my companions return, tired but happy about their visit to Sura and the walk back over rugged Lycian countryside. I am as hungry as they are, and luckily the crew is setting the lunch table almost immediately.

The plan was to return to Üçağız under sail but the winds are now too strong to hoist our sails and the captain cranks the motor instead. The conditions become increasingly more serious with choppy waves and heavy wind gusts, even here in the shelter of Kekova Island stretching its entire length in front of Kale. This area is also called “three mouths” as this bay has an opening east and west of Kekova Island and one to the town itself. We drop the anchor just outside Üçağız. As any sailboat, the Almira automatically heads into the wind, much to the comfort of her passengers.

Peter allows us some free time for a walk ashore. The zodiac is taking us there and in spite of this being in a sheltered inlet, our behinds are wet when we set foot on land. Well, the wind will dry us, right?

I am still not interested in shopping but instead, I am very determined to find out how it feels to be walking on my sore foot. From the boat I have spotted the ever fascinating Lycian sarcophagi along the coastline - Üçağız being the ancient Teimiussa - and I didn’t expect to find myself right in the middle of so many remains from the past. At the parking space next to the many restaurants, a high Lycian sarcophagus seems to be parked between the garbage bins on one side and cars and trucks on the other. I find my way to a plain asphalt road that soon leads to a gravel road, and then through the fields where I’m right in the middle of Lycian sarcophagi, Hellenistic walls, and Byzantine arches. I climb over walls, following the goat track as I see no other, to wind up on the Lycian Way covered with scree, rocks, and bits of marble. This is so exciting! Not only do I have these antique relics all to myself, but I manage very well walking and climbing without feeling any pain in my foot! Wow, wee! What a relief! The low sun throws a beautiful soft light over the trees on the opposite slopes and the rocky islands in the sheltered bay below. I feel coming back to life again!

Tombs with Lycian inscriptions seem to place the origins of Teimiussa in the 4th century BC. Apparently the city had ties with Myra and Kyaenai and the oldest ruins are a few rock-cut house-type tombs at the eastern end of Üçagiz's harbor. Well, I don’t walk that far, of course, it may be asking a little too much of my fragile foot and after all, there is still so much to see right here!

The sea squill, for instance, is in full bloom and I take some close-up photos. I watch the local daily life unfold around me with the chickens and roosters parading in the alleys, patchwork cats making a dash in front of my feet while their kittens call them from hidden boxes behind the rubble. Pomegranates shine in the low light like early Christmas decorations in the trees. From up here, the sheltered bay looks unbelievably peaceful!

I retrace my steps while the sun disappears behind the high mountains in the West. I’m thirsty and look around for the Çaibahçe for a cup of tea. From here I pass the mosque, a plain whitewashed building with red tiled roof, but the entrance hall catches my eye with its beautiful blue Iznik tiles carrying an inscription dated 1943, I suppose the date it was built?

At 7 p.m. our zodiac splashes to the jetty. The ride back to the boat is another wet one. No problem, I have dry clothes on board.

We are having a festive dinner tonight, with Kale’s castle in the floodlights in the background like a theater stage. It is funny how it keeps moving – well, our boat is moving, of course, keeping her head in the wind! Overnight the weather is calming down, just a heavy gust from time to time. All is well.

[Click here for all the pictures of Teimiussa]

Click on the Label Lycian Coast to read my full story

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