About decrees and multilingual inscriptions

In antiquity, news was carried by word of mouth, but legal matters and other important information were cut in stone and placed in a conspicuous spot for everyone to see. 

The majority of inscriptions are Decrees of which I can only mention a selection. 

At the Acropolis Museum, there is a stele with decrees for the construction of the temple and altar of Nike by Kallikrates, for the reorganization of the cult, and for the salary of the priestess of the goddess dated 427-424 BC (side A) and 424-423 BC (side B).

Also a stele with a series of Decrees by which the Athenians bestowed economic, commercial, and military privileges on their ally Methone in Pieria. 

It shows the goddess Athena shaking hands with perhaps Artemis, dated 430-423 BC.

Very broken but still readable is the Athenian Decree honoring Neapolis (modern Kavala) for its support in the war against Thasos and its constant commitment to her. 

In the upper right corner, we recognize the goddess Athena extending her hand towards another figure, probably the goddess Parthenos of Neapolis, dated from 410-409 BC.

A very elegant stele with a horse and an olive wreath carries an inscription in which the Athenians honored King Alcetas of Epirus for his help during their military expedition to Corcyra (modern Corfu) in 373-372 BC.

And finally, still at the Acropolis Museum, there is the long Decree of Chalkis on the island of Euboia in which the islanders were forced to swear loyalty to Athens after failing in their revolt of 446-445 BC. 

The people of Chalkis could punish their own citizens, except in cases that involved death, exile, or the loss of their rights as citizens, where the power of Athens prevailed.

The National Archaeological Museum in Athens has its own rich collection of Decrees. A good example is the honorary inscription from Piraeus dating from 347-346 BC. 

The stele honors the three sons of Leukon (depicted), king of the Cimmerian Bosporus, thanking them for services rendered to the people of Athens and allowing them to import grain free of duty.

A particular stele from 355-354BC was found near the Monument of Lysicrates in Athens. 

It honors Philiskos, son of Lykos of Sestos in the Thracian Hellespont as a public guest and benefactor of Athens. In 356 BC, Philiskos had warned the Athenians of the hostile presence of the fleet of Byzantium that threatened the city’s grain supply.

The Eleusis Museum, in turn, exhibits a decree providing for the construction of a footbridge across Lake Rheitoi on the Sacred Way from Athens to Eleusis, dated 421 BC.

Two fragments from an unidentified monument carry a Royal Decree of Alexander, which defines the limits of ‘land’, meaning the agricultural area that Philippi supervised. 

The (partial) inscription dates from 336-334 BC, just before Alexander started his campaign East. It is kept at the Museum of Philippi.

On a different level, there is a Decree sanctioning the people and city of Iasos for conspiring against King Mausolos of Caria. 

It is kept at the Louvre in Paris and dates to 370-350 BC. 

 

The Foundation Decree of Cyrene in North Africa is a covenant between the citizens of Cyrene in ca. 322 BC and those of their mother-state of Thera. 

The exact purpose is uncertain, but it is thought that the citizens of Thera, including the early settlers of 631 BC, were granted the same rights and freedoms as the Cyreneans, even though Cyrene was wealthier than Thera at the time.

Of another level is, for instance, the trilingual stele from Letoon in the Xanthos Valley found near the Temple of Apollo. It holds a public Decree authorizing the cult of the deities and establishing the provisions for its officers.
The Decree is written in Lycian, Greek, and Aramaic, which are not verbatim translations of each other. Each version contains information that is not translated into the two other tongues. The Aramaic text with 27 lines is the shortest, followed by Greek with 35 lines, and Lycian with 51 lines. Useless to point out that this stele helped to decipher the peculiar Lycian language. This unique document can be seen at the Fethiye Museum.

The story of this stele reminds us of the Rosetta Stone, which helped to decipher the Egyptian hieroglyphs and Demotic script using the Greek version carved on the same stone. The text is a Decree issued by King Ptolemy V of Egypt in 196 BC and was key to deciphering the hitherto unknown hieroglyphic signs. 

Trilingual inscriptions are not isolated cases. In ancient Persia, it was current practice to leave inscriptions in three languages to make sure everyone in the vast empire would be notified: Elamite, Old Persian, and Babylonian. The best-known lines are carved on the cliff wall of Bisutun, where Darius I celebrates his victory over Gaumata and eight more pretenders to the throne in 518 BC as represented above.

The trilingual inscriptions on the Palace walls of Pasargadae, and Persepolis are mainly continuous reminders of the power of the King of Kings who ruled by the grace of Ahuramazda, repeating their title of Great King. These were defined in full by Cyrus the Great: Great King, King of Persia, King of Anshan, King of Media, King of Babylon, King of Sumer and Akkad, and King of the Four Corners of the World.

Perhaps the most remarkable panels are set in the spectacular landscape close to the fast-running mountain river and lovely waterfalls of Ganj Nameh, some five kilometers southwest of Hamadan. As is customary, each text starts by praising Ahuramazda and continues describing the lineage and deeds of Darius I on the left panel and his son Xerxes on the right. It reads: "The Great God [is] Ahuramazda, greatest of all the gods, who created the earth and the sky and the people; who made Xerxes king, and outstanding king as outstanding ruler among innumerable rulers; I [am] the great king Xerxes, king of kings, king of lands with numerous inhabitants, king of this vast kingdom with far-away territories, son of the Achaemenid monarch Darius." (see: The Bisutun relief of King Darius I).

I’d like to close with the impressive Monument of Opramoas in Rhodiapolis. He was a great benefactor who contributed lavishly to the reconstruction of most Lycian cities after the devastating earthquake of 141 AD. He must have been terribly wealthy, for it seems that every single Lycian city mentioned his name in thanks. The construction blocks of the Monument listing his good deeds were strewn over a wide area until, in 2016, archaeologists managed to sort them out and reconstruct the walls of his Monument (see: The Monument in honor of Opramoas of Rhodiapolis is taking shape).

Its text, the longest ever found in Lycia or perhaps even in all of Anatolia, contains 12 letters Opramoas exchanged with the Roman Emperors and Antoninus Pius in particular, 19 letters to the Roman Procurator, and 33 various documents related to the Lycian League. 

The reasons for leaving an inscription widely vary, and the list is endless. I stopped at a few of the most telling examples that caught my attention.

About the Olympian gods

Walking through the history of Greece, we cannot escape the ever presence of the gods – in this case, the Olympian gods. Besides the written history, they all came to us in many shapes and forms, such as statues, reliefs, mosaics, and even paintings, which are widely lost. Some of those earthly creations are true masterpieces, which I'd like to share at present.

The Greek pantheon counted twelve gods: Zeus, Hera, Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Poseidon, Ares, Demeter, Aphrodite, Dionysos, Hermes, and Hephaistos. This number, however, was flexible, and at times one of the lesser gods was replaced by another one.

We will remember how King Philip, Alexander's father, proclaimed himself the 13th god when he made his triumphal entry into the Theater of Aegae, where he was murdered that same day.

The Greek gods were very human and constituted one big family.

Zeus was the father of the gods, and as such, he ruled over heaven and earth. He was the god of thunder, so he is generally depicted holding a thunderbolt in his hand. The most magnificent rendition, in my opinion, is the bronze Zeus from the Sea of Artemisia, c. 450 BC, that dominates the room at the National Archaeological Museum of Athens.

Hera was Zeus' wife and Queen of Mount Olympus. She was the goddess of marriage and the family. Although she was a very jealous spouse, she remained faithful to Zeus despite his many escapades. Her temple in Olympia left us with many unusual artifacts, among which there is this (restored) terracotta Acroterium, which is now displayed in the local museum.

Athena was born from the head of Zeus and was the goddess of war and wisdom. Her name is closely tied to Athens after she donated the olive tree to symbolize peace and plenty. A sacred olive tree stood on the Acropolis, where a more recent specimen had replaced its ancestor. In her honor, the famous Temple of the Parthenon was built in the 5^th century BC. The New Museum of the Acropolis exhibits a relatively uncommon marble statue of a striding Athena that was part of the pediment of the archaic temple from c. 520 BC.

Apollo is the most loved of the gods and is generally associated with music. He also stands for youth, beauty, and the source of life and healing. Delphi was one of his favorite places of worship. Still, I was very impressed by the larger-than-life statue of Apollo playing the Lyre exhibited at the Archaeological Museum of Tripoli in Libya. It was retrieved from the Bath of Hadrian in Leptis Magna, Libya.

Artemis was the twin sister of Apollo, and often her temple stood right next to her brother's – as we know from Didyma and Letoon (Turkey), for instance. She was best known as the protector of women in childbirth, although she was also famous as the goddess of hunting. We'll remember that Artemis was so occupied in assisting the birth of Alexander that she neglected her tasks in Ephesos and let her temple burn down that same night. She is represented in the archaic eastern form with many breasts in this city, but that is not my favorite picture. There is, of course, the nearly intact Diana, the Roman version, at the Louvre in Paris, but I'd prefer this cute little hairnet from the National Archaeological Museum in Athens.

Poseidon, the later Roman Neptune, is best known as the god of the sea. He was famous for bringing floods and storms, but was also responsible for earthquakes. Yet, he had a good side also, since he protected the seafarers. My favorite is this relief from the 1^st or 2^nd century AD on display at the Museum of Burdur (famous for the artifacts retrieved in Sagalassos) in Turkey.

Ares was the son of Zeus and Hera and a very bellicose god with a quick temper. His beauty and courage made him the perfect seducer of women, the most famous of whom was Aphrodite. This scene is beautifully depicted in a fresco from the House of Lucretius Fronto in Pompeii, exhibited at the National Archaeological Museum of Naples, Italy.   

Demeter was Zeus' sister and the mother of Persephone, who was raped by the god of the underworld, Hades. She was one of the oldest gods in the Greek pantheon, and as such, she provided the earth's fertility and protected the harvest. The votive relief from Eleusis is probably the most famous picture, but I have a special connection with this remarkable relief tucked away in the Museum of Dion in Greece.

Aphrodite was born on the island of Cyprus near the city of Paphos, where her memory is still alive. According to some sources, she is said to be the daughter of Zeus. Aphrodite, who later became the Roman Venus, is widely known as the goddess of love, beauty, and sex. She not only protected the courtesans and prostitutes but also the seafarers. Quite uniquely, she was a favorite among men and women alike and played an essential role in commerce, politics, and warfare. There are many statues of Aphrodite and Venus to entice us. After in-depth comparisons, however, I chose this one from the Louvre in Paris.

Dionysos was another son of Zeus, but from his liaison with Semele. Hera was very jealous of that relationship and killed Semele. However, Zeus took the unborn child and reared him in his thigh. Dionysus turned out to be the bad boy of Olympus and is best known as the god of wine – always playful and good-natured. He is often represented in the presence of a Satyr, and the example from Sagalassos exhibited at the Museum of Burdur is one of the finest Hellenistic statues.

Hermes. In the crowded family on Mount Olympus, Hermes was another son of Zeus, but this time by the nymph Maia. He is often seen in the company of Pan, his son, and is the patron of the shepherds. He was engaged in many fields and was the god of commerce and thieves, clearly illustrating his colorful personage. He was also active as the god of travel, wealth, luck, and language. His later Roman name, Mercury, highlights his versatility. The most perfect rendition is the splendid Hermes with the child Dionysus, which Praxiteles created for the Temple of Hera in Olympia.

Hephaistos was the brilliant blacksmith on Mount Olympus. He was the god of fire and metallurgy. Since he was born to Hera without a father, he appeared as an ugly figure – the only one among the overall near-perfect gods and goddesses. That may be why I didn't find (or photograph) a statue of Hephaistos, who has left us his well-preserved temple in Athens.

An eye for beauty in spite of the daily challenges

On a lovely autumn day, I was enjoying a picnic high up the hills among the ruins of Tlos, overlooking the Xanthos Valley. My mind automatically drifted away to Alexander, who must have ridden down this very valley towards Patara, Letoon, and Xanthos. I pictured him proudly riding his faithful Bucephalus, who was happily shaking his colorful tassels and twinkling bells.

In my pleasant mental picture, I imagined a good-humored Alexander enjoying the ride and the beauty of the land with Hephaistion at his side. No history book will mention this, of course. The landscape, roads, or weather conditions are no topic unless they reach extremes.

The few such exceptions our historians picked up are, for instance, the blizzards that hit the army on the passes of the Hindu Kush, the never-ending monsoon rains in India, and the flash flood in the Gedrosian Desert. Otherwise, we can only use our imagination, and that is not easy since most of us have not traveled to those faraway lands.

I feel privileged to have trodden in the footsteps of this great conqueror on several occasions, but to truly appreciate what is involved, we would have to venture out on foot. Only a handful of braves have set out on such an adventure. Traveling by plane or car, as is common nowadays, does not allow us to experience the impact of the elements. The wind, the rain, the heat or the cold remain blocked until we step outside of our metal cocoon. We miss out on the smells of the land, the dust, the fog, the crispy frost in the air. The most common sounds of bleating sheep, mooing cows, the songs of the birds, and the laughter of children are stifled entirely.

The topic of the weather fully hit me when I drove south along the Zagros Mountains in a relentless dust storm. The sands from Mesopotamia were carried through the air in sweeping gusts. As long as I sat inside the comforts of my vehicle, I only noticed a hazy landscape, but as soon as I left my protective shell, the grains hit me in the face, stinging me with thousands of needles. The wind was tearing at my clothes, the sand was crushing between my teeth, and breathing became difficult. Alexander must have known such days. 

The role of the landscape and the climate during Alexander’s campaign became even more apparent to me after reading “The Road to Oxiana” by Robert Byron. This book is a true eye-opener when it comes to envisioning the full scale of his daily challenges.

In 1933, Byron traveled from Damascus to Baghdad and crossed Persia to finally reach Afghanistan one year later.  It is quite exciting to discover that long stretches of his route match the itinerary taken by Alexander more than 2,000 years earlier. The landscape is a commanding factor common in both cases. Then and now, roads run along the same rivers, pass the same oases and towns, skirt the same deserts and mountains, and use the same passes and goat tracks. I enjoy his descriptions of the many valleys in full spring bloom in Central Asia, where the fiery red poppies rule the fields as they still do in Alexander’s homeland. They are a welcome breather after witnessing the barren deserts with their frequent dust devils whirling around.

Byron hitchhiked on board lorries but also traveled by car or on horseback. Despite modern means of transportation, he did not move much faster than a traveler on foot would. Roads were often impassable because of flooding or flash floods that washed away entire portions, including bridges or other rudimentary crossings.

He used old caravanserais when there was no local governor or friendly Brit around to offer him a room for the night. Lodging was, more often than not, uncomfortable and dirty. He generously recounts the folklore details of such encounters, and it seems to me that life has not really changed much since the days of Alexander.

As I read on, I search for those landscapes and cities that most likely have seen the Macedonian army marching through. Places like Ecbatana, Persepolis, Pasargadae, Balkh, Kabul, and Peshawar, the crossing of the Elbruz Mountains towards the Caspian Sea, and the perilous trek over the Hindu Kush.

Byron describes a poignant moment as he descends to the Caspian Coast. In a few minutes, the world of stone, sand, and mud he had endured since Damascus turned into one of green-leafed trees and bushes. The everlasting drought made way for moisture as even his body somehow returned to its natural buoyancy. I imagine Alexander and his dust-covered Macedonians must have experienced the same kind of refreshing relief.

Insofar as possible, Alexander used the well-maintained Persian Royal Road. Once beyond that network, it came down to finding tracks and trails. It appears that Byron had a rather similar experience, and his worst progress was made after he left Persia to enter Afghanistan.

The sudden changes in the weather pattern are widespread in that part of the world, and Byron truly undergoes these extremes. He tells how it rained all night, how the river had subsided but rose again fast, four feet deep at times. Of rain falling like bath-waste turning the road into a river for miles in a row, flooding the desert, and turning every mountain into a cataract. He describes the dark skies as cloud-wracked set against inky jagged hills.

At one time, after passing the Paropamisus, he labors for an hour and a half, ankle-deep in freezing slush, to lever away the rocks blocking the road. Landslides were common, and he mentions how not one but a dozen such landslides prevented him from reaching Kabul overnight. A mile beyond the Shibar Pass across the Hindu Kush, which Alexander also used, Byron hits more landslides, heaps of liquid mud and pebbles concealing large rocks. The crops below the road, already half destroyed by a river of mud, are then menaced by a new spate.

Another exciting feature that is not mentioned in our history books, either, is the qanats. A very recognizable and ingenious water management system from antiquity that still exists today and is still functioning in some parts of the world. The quality of the river water could not always be trusted, but the qanats carried the precious fluid from the snow level high up the mountains or from clean underground water tables (see: The qanats, one of the greatest inventions of mankind).

Earthquakes were another frequent occurrence at every stage of Alexander’s route. Surprisingly, the sudden shaking that rocked tents, as well as men and beasts, is never mentioned either. They probably were prevailing events not worth talking about.

No, this way of traveling is definitely not for the faint-hearted. Yet Alexander and his brave Macedonians constantly faced the elements. However, I like to believe that many, and especially Alexander, had an eye for beauty as well. Byron tells us, for instance, that he reached the most beautiful part of his entire journey at the foot of the Hindu Kush. Of all places! After leaving the river, the road constantly climbed not in twists but followed a succession of steeply sloping saddles leading from ridge to ridge. I have seen pictures of this road in a presentation at the exhibition “Afghanistan, hidden treasures from the National Museum, Kabul,” and they entirely match Byron’s description.

On the other hand, flowers must have been plentiful in antiquity, creating landscapes that were familiar to Alexander. Nowadays, they have mainly disappeared from our cities and our concrete roads. I fondly recall the Macedonian fields covered with an array of spring flowers ranging from the white chamomile and pink hollyhock to the deep-red poppies and purple wild onions. The explosion of colors over the rolling hills felt like a homecoming. The land was pleasantly green, crossed by refreshing, clear streams tumbling down from higher elevations under the blue sky filled with fleets of puffy clouds. Yet, I came across the same picture in many other places, further east to Turkey and beyond.

Truly, so much, so very much remains to be discovered and disclosed on Alexander’s whereabouts!

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.

Letoon, sister-city of Xanthos

In every ancient city, the gods are never far away, and sooner or later, we stumble upon their temples and sanctuaries, but I never felt their presence as explicitly as here in Letoon at the southern end of the fertile Xanthos Valley.

Letoon was the most important sanctuary of Lycia, dedicated to its three deities: Leto, who was the family goddess and guardian of the tomb, and her twin children, Apollo and Artemis. The city was administered by nearby Xanthos (only 4 km away), closely linked together and often seen as a kind of double-city, although the term “city” may not really apply to Letoon because no major settlement was ever found. Letoon was a sacred cult center and the spiritual heart of Lycia.

According to the legend mentioned by the Latin poet, Ovid, Zeus fell in love with the nymph Leto, who gave birth to twins, Apollo and Artemis, on the island of Delos. Hera, Zeus’ wife, was very jealous of this relationship and chased Leto and her twins away to Anatolia. That is how they arrived here at Letoon. Leto came to quench her thirst at this spring, but local shepherds tried to prevent her from drinking, which annoyed her immensely; she became so fed up with them that she turned them into frogs (which still are croaking here today).

        

2. The theatre

3. Porticoes

4. Temple of Apollo

5. Temple of Artemis

6. Temple of Leto

7. Nymphaeum

8. Byzantine basilica

Based on an inscription found at Letoon, we know that monthly and annual sacrifices took place and that those who dared offend the goddess were found guilty before Leto, her children, and the Nymphs. This custom may go back to the earlier cult of Eni Mahanahi, a Lycian deity known from the 7th to the 5th century BC. This Lycian cult of the mother goddess was one of the many such influences that originated in Anatolia and spread throughout the ancient world. So it is not surprising to hear that, because of this connection with the matriarchal customs of Anatolia, even a woman was allowed to preside over the annual autumn assembly at Letoon.

What brought me here is a legend about Alexander. The story goes that when he visited the Sacred Spring, a bronze tablet emerged from the water carrying an inscription in ancient writing, which, when translated, announced that the Persian Empire would be destroyed by a Greek. The news obviously pleased Alexander and his entourage, and all rejoiced at the idea that the King’s campaign was favored by the gods.

Since ancient times, the Lycians have used this Nymphaeum for their meetings, during which the Sacred Spring occupied a very special place. During excavations, the well has produced hundreds of terracotta votive statues dating from the early Hellenistic days to the Roman times. It is lovely to see that even today, the area around this well is very marshy and the remains are often submerged. It creates a very lively picture of the Hellenistic Nymphaeum that once stood here and to which the Romans added a semi-circular pool whose outlines are still visible. In those days, the sanctuary was surrounded by large porticoes where pilgrims and believers could stroll around and rest. Unfortunately, a large part of this building has not yet been excavated, although it is known that in Byzantine times a Basilica was erected on the altar’s terrace, which ended up being flooded as well. 

The main features at Letoon are, of course, the three temples standing on a podium, which is customary for Lycia. The most obvious one is the Temple of Leto from the 5th century BC, which is basically Ionic and has been partially restored. Its particularity is that the inside Corinthian columns were integrated into the wall. It does not show at first glance, but this temple is said to be one of the best preserved Greek temples and a most exceptional example of Greek architecture. Secondly, there is the Temple of Apollo from the 4th century BC in Doric style, where a marvelous mosaic was retrieved showing a rose motive in its center and Apollo’s bow and arrows on one side and his lyre on the other – the god’s personal symbols. A copy now replaces the original that has been moved to the Museum of Fethiye. Thirdly, we find an Ionic Temple between the two previous ones. This one, the smallest one and showing only its foundations, is dedicated to Artemis and also dates from the 4th century BC. Nothing much remains of the last two temples since over the centuries their limestone has fueled the then-popular lime-kilns.

The pilgrims must have been awed by the spectacular view of these temples as they approached from the Sacred Road. With a little imagination, one can almost grasp that feeling when walking over these ancient marble slabs.

Near the Temple of Apollo, an important stela was found bearing an inscription in three languages: Greek, Lycian, and Aramaic. This decree authorizes the cult of the deities and establishes the provisions for its officers. They are not verbatim translations, but each version contains some information that is not mentioned in the other two. The Aramaic inscription with its 27 lines contains the most condensed text, as opposed to the Lycian language needing 41 lines and the Greek 35. Useless to point out that this stela helped to decipher the peculiar Lycian language. This unique document can be seen at the Fethiye Museum.

Another most attractive building at Letoon is the theater with imposing vaulted entrances on either side. Above the south vault, we find a series of masks separated by triglyphs. It definitely is a Greek theater that has been transformed by the Romans in the 2nd century BC. What makes it so special is that it was carved from the natural bedrock except for the aisles. It stood at the end of the road coming from Xanthos and is said to be one of the finest in Turkey!

[Click here to see all the pictures of Letoon]