The world’s first Parliament building - Patara

Only a few people will have heard about the opening of the first-ever Parliament building in the ancient city of Patara, Turkey.

First discovered in 1991, restoration works started in 2010, and it took two full years to complete the project, re-erecting and repairing inside and outside walls, gateways, and the entire seating area. When I visited Patara in 2007, the building was fenced off, but it now shines in full splendor. It may feel somewhat overdone, too well reconstructed, but, on the other hand, this is the closest one can get to tasting what it is like to sit inside a Council House – and this one is regarded as being the world’s first democratic Parliament (to use modern words).

[Picture from The Hurriyet Daily News]

The Lycian League, for which this Council House was built, has always fascinated me. The very idea matured in the early 2nd century BC after 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 judged it only fair to grant them their freedom. Finally, the Lycian cities all agreed it was time to unite, and the Lycian League, as dreamed of by King  Pericles several centuries earlier, now 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 three votes in the meetings of the League. Most of the other cities had one single vote each, while some very small cities shared one vote (for instance, Istlada, Apollonia, and Aperlai). Besides, 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 and eventually to their prosperity.

The building we see here in Patara was, however, built in the first century AD and served for five hundred years. It could seat 400 representatives coming from all the member cities of the Lycian League, squeezing inside the walls of this 43-meter-long and 30-meter-wide Council House. When the Lycian League was at last dissolved, the building was still used as a theater.

Like Patara’s theater, the Council House had been swallowed and hidden under the moving sand dunes for centuries, which, in a way, helped to preserve the stones, making them look like new.

Alexander the Great in Antalya’s Museum

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Limyra, from Finike

My first trip is to Limyra, located very close by, in fact right behind my hotel (I later spot it with my binoculars from the balcony), although I have to drive in a wide loop to get there. First down the coast to Finike, where the market is wrapping up. I have to pay attention, driving through the crowd of well-built young men carrying empty crates and the belated housewives loaded with plastic bags full of bread and vegetables. Maneuvering further between the potholes and sooner than expected, I see the Roman-Byzantine city wall on my right-hand side, which I recognize as pertaining to Limyra. There is space to park my car, but nobody to welcome me. The kiosk at the entrance is deserted, and the iron gate is locked. Knowing that the visit to the Theater on the other side of the road is free of charge, I decided to start over there.

Basically, this is a Hellenistic Theater that was rebuilt after the earthquake in 141 AD, thanks to the contributions of Opramoas of Rhodiapolis at a time when the city was at its wealthiest and could seat 8,000 people (other sources double that size). It was enlarged during the reign of Emperor Augustus and again in later Roman times, and in the 2nd century AD, a skene was added. Although the Theater is squeezed between the road, the hillside, and the surrounding greenhouses, it is still in rather good condition with niches in the side walls that once held statues, while the diazoma and the vaulted galleries offer lovely pictures of the blossoming mimosa trees on the slopes behind it. 

High up this hill, according to my books, I should find the remains of the Acropolis with a church and the Heroon of Pericles. This Heroon, which was also his tomb, displayed a group of caryatids on the porch, which was inspired by the Erechtheion in Athens or the Monument of the Nereids in Xanthos.  One of the Caryatids and several parts of the frieze from the cella representing Pericles in his chariot surrounded by mounted and foot soldiers are exhibited at the Museum in Antalya. The burial chamber was located in the foundations of the Heroon. 

I have second thoughts about climbing up there, for the hill is very steep (my book states 40-45 degrees!) and the hot air emanating from the many greenhouses makes me feel nauseated. Besides, there will not be much to see for even down here, the landscape is very hazy. I decided to stick to the lower grounds.

Walking back to the car, I see that the ticket booth is now manned. The local voiceless messenger has worked well, as usual. I’m welcomed with a big smile, and after paying my entrance fee, the attendant unlocks the gate for me. Great, I have Limyra all to myself!

Limyra, the Lycian Zemuri, is mentioned by Strabo, Ptolemy, and several Latin authors and seems to date back to the 6th century BC. Under the Lycian dynast Pericles, whose name is found on coins from the 4th century BC, Limyra enjoyed a golden age. This Pericles ruled over eastern Lycia from about 380 to 360 BC, while western Lycia was still under the direct government of Persia. 

In Hellenistic times, Limyra belonged to Egypt until it was briefly conquered by the Syrians. Immediately afterward, Pergamon prevailed, and finally, in the 1st century AD, Rome took over. The main god was Zeus, in whose name athletic contests were organized. The Limyros Valley was also home to the Spring Oracle of Limyra: trout predicted the future. If they hurled themselves at the bait, the omens were good; if they circled it skeptically … In Byzantine times, it was a bishop’s seat, but the city waned under constant Arab raids in the 8th century and the silting up of the Limyros River. Later, it came under the rule of the Ottomans, and the inhabitants settled in Phoinikos, today’s Finike, once Limyra’s port.

I take my map out, trying to find my bearings, for according to my preparative reading, the entrance to the site should be further down the road. It soon becomes clear that I am on what is called the western island (the Limyros River cuts the site in two halves) and that the mass of stones in front of me is the Ptolemaion. The crepidoma and its podium are cut in two by a thick Byzantine Wall and surrounded on all sides by clear spring water. Archaeologists suspect that the Ptolemaion carried a Tholos with lion statues at the corners, supported by Ionic columns that may have been alternating with statues like the Nereid’s Monument in Xanthos. It is uncertain whether this Temple was dedicated to Arsinoe or Berenike, but we do know that the metopes show scenes of centauromachy in a more elaborate style than those found on the Altar of Zeus in Pergamon – and that shows how wealthy the city was in its heydays! It must have been quite something, and it keeps amazing me how we are able to draw so much information from a heap of rubble!

To the right, still impressive in its nakedness, stands the Monumental Tomb built for Gaius Caesar, who died here on February 21, 4 AD, after returning from a campaign in Syria. The original monument was no less than eighteen meters high and decorated with reliefs depicting the great deeds Gaius performed in the East. The cenotaph (his remains were shipped back to Rome) was covered with a pyramidal roof. When I was in Antalya last year, I saw a picture of this monument in the Museum together with a reconstruction, and at that time it reminded me of the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus. Strange how things fall into place, isn’t it? Today, this monument also stands with its feet in the water since the level has risen since antiquity.

Closer to the City Wall I passed earlier are other remains of a monument, but without any explanation, and I couldn’t find out what it was about. Can somebody tell me?

I walk back to the Ptolemaion, through the poor remains of the Triumphal Arch now part of the Byzantine City Wall, to reach the southern side, where a colonnaded avenue paved with rectangular blocks is still visible underwater. This is the Limyros River (today’s Göksu), whose source lies just on the other side of this wall. With columns on both sides, this avenue must have looked very elegant, leading to the eastern side of Limyra. Close to the center of that eastern part, I find the ruins of a Roman Bath as well as those of an early Byzantine Church and the Byzantine Bishop’s Palace. Closer to the river, an effort has been made to reconstruct a huge volute with blocks showing a feather motif; maybe an attempt to imitate the roof of a tomb, I wonder?

It seems as if not much of the terrain has been really excavated yet, but the remains are interesting, to say the least. On this early spring day, I simply enjoy the idyllic views where the Limyros River joins the Arykandos, today’s Aykιrιçay, where turtles and frogs swim and play in a paradise of their own. It is so wonderfully quiet and serene here, with nobody to disturb my peace.

Directly east and a little above the Theater is perhaps the only Lycian sarcophagus in ancient Limyra. I wonder if this is the very same one Charles Fellows got excited about. Back at the entrance booth, I ask the guardian, showing him Fellows’ drawing, and surely enough, that is it, the monumental Tomb of Xntabura (maybe the brother or a relative of Pericles), a Lycian aristocrat who is depicted on the relief between two priests. I make several attempts to climb uphill but hit sheer rocks, private fences, and beehives. Maybe from behind the Theater? Here I meet a Turkish family inspecting their hothouses with tomatoes and beans, and the elderly man is positive, there is no path to the tomb. Too bad. Had the weather not been that hot and stuffy, I might have given it another try.

Interestingly, the many rock tombs around Limyra are scattered over five different areas. They are mostly real rock graves dating from before the 4th century BC, and it seems no other necropolis in any Lycian city is so strung out. There are supposedly more than four hundred tombs, and I stick to the ones that are more readily accessible alongside the road to Kumluca, starting approximately two kilometers from the Theatre. Well, I can’t access them so easily after all, for the hillside is as steep as everywhere in Lycia, but I manage to have a closer look at a dozen of them. Quite worthwhile after all.

I check the time. If I leave right now, I still may catch a late lunch at my hotel. The very thought of food and a cooler place to rest is a tempting one. I managed, and my meal tasted great; I was hungry after all!

After today’s emotions, I feel tired and lazy and decide to return to my room to grab a nap. Well, not exactly what I had in mind for slamming doors, yelling kids, and screaming tractor motors wake me up time after time. Maybe I can catch the afternoon tea service with cookies and cakes? No such luck, they are just clearing the table when I get there. Well, I’ll settle for a rakı instead! Şerefe!

[Click here to view all pictures of Limyra]