Spolia, giving stones a second life

Spolia most commonly appear as simple stone blocks or column drums used to quickly and cheaply build larger walls at a later date. 

Ruins from antiquity are readily available quarries used in the construction of city walls, houses, or larger buildings. Basically, and beyond the best-known examples, everything goes from bits of statues, capitals, and reliefs to inscriptions. 

Strolling through the remains from antiquity, we often come across monuments that have been partially dismantled. The larger or heavier pieces are left behind to trigger our imagination to mentally reconstruct the buildings. I have encountered many such examples, mostly in remote regions with little or no control by the authorities. 

Spotting spolia is always very rewarding. One of my first artifacts was a statue of Aegle, the Greek goddess of radiant good health, and an adjacent head in the Byzantine city wall of Dion in Greece. 

Another striking spolia was a list of Greek gods in the back of the mosque of Dodurga, a settlement sitting on top of ancient Sidyma in Lycia. The mosque had been carefully plastered and covered in soft yellow paint but the marble slab, although inserted sideways, was kept in its pristine white marble. Some reverence to the ancient gods, I wonder? 

Recently a spolia in the west facade of the Church St. Anna in Oleveni near Bitola and Florina in the Republic of Macedonia was brought to my attention. It carries a seriously weathered but still readable inscription that has been recognized as a letter by Philip II of Macedonia dated from June 345 BC. It was addressed to the Katlestai, either a military unit or a small mountain community in Illyria. Philip’s whereabouts at that time are obscured by his intense transpopulation of peoples aiming to subdue them and secure his own borders. Hence, it is unclear who the Katlestai exactly were. 

The inscription reads: to those of the Katlestai who stood in battle with Philip the king against the Dardanians and conquered. Here too, a pagan text has been used in a Greek-Orthodox church. 

Especially in the cases of Dodurga and Oleveni the builders either could not read the inscription on the spolia or, if they could, they did not understand it. 

Anyway, precious information is being saved this way for posterity as it is of particular interest to historians and archaeologists alike.

Tlos in the beautiful Xanthos Valley

I find it quite exciting to read that recent excavations have been carried out in the ancient city of Tlos, not too far from Fethiye in Turkey. To me, Tlos is entirely linked to Alexander the Great although there is no proof at all that he ever was here. In fact, this is true for the entire Xanthos Valley which is part of ancient Lycia. All we know is that Alexander crossed Lycia in today’s Southern Turkey after his siege of Halicarnassus in 334 BC. At that point, he sent the newly wed soldiers home to Macedonia for the winter and split the remaining part of his army up with his general Parmenion who would take his men to Gordion whereas Alexander would cross Lycia from west to east to join Parmenion next spring in Gordion.

A few years ago, I had the privilege of having lunch amidst the ruins of Tlos on a most exquisite picnic place: a series of blocks from the bathhouse aligned in its shade with an eagle eye’s view over the historic valley below. This was really something special, to sit there among those ruins savoring the food in a place where Romans, Greeks, Lycians and earlier civilizations lived in centuries past. The ancients must have spotted this place too and maybe savored their own snack watching the same scenery. It always makes me feel very privileged to sit in a place where people from times bygone have done so too. What were they seeing? What were they thinking? Whom did they talk to? This is beyond imagination, of course.

 Inevitably, I pictured Alexander the Great riding his Bucephalus at an easy pace through this luscious Xanthos Valley that produced and still produces a variety of crops. These fertile fields were dotted with a string of cities from Tlos and Pınara in the north to the more familiar Xanthos and Letoon in the south. Somewhere to the northwest of Letoon lies Sidyma, half buried under and among today’s Dodurga. An abundance of history for the taking!

 [picture from The Hurriyet Daily News]

Turkey is so rich in antique sites, some of them being left mostly untouched, but from time to time archaeologists set out for further investigation. This summer apparently is was the turn of Tlos where several Roman statues have been uncovered and moved to the local museum in Fethiye. Time to go back, it seems. From the one picture published with this article in The Hurriyet Daily News in August 2011, one can easily recognize Emperor Hadrian standing in the middle of the group. Other statues, which seem to be life-size, represent Antonius Pius and his daughter Faustina Minor, Marcus Aurelius and the goddess Isis.

Moreover, other artifacts have enabled to date Tlos back 10,500 years while it was previously believed that the site was occupied for the past 2,700 years only. The archaeological team will continue its excavations in the next few months, focusing on the city center, the rock tombs around the Acropolis, the Stadium, the Basilica and the Theater tower, while investigating at the same time Girmeler Cave and Tavabaşı Cave.

Tlos is not very well known and evidently much less than Xanthos or Myra, for instance, but it is definitely worth investigating if ever you ever are in the area.

When I was there in 2007, archaeologists had been working on the Roman Bath complex removing much of the soil and rubble from the Solarium where apparently precious mosaics were found to be covered with plastic and dirt to protect them from the elements – and unfortunately to my view also. The thickness of the layer of soil that was removed here is remarkable (I would say 1.5 to 2 meters), exposing amazingly white original building stones. The many rooms of this bathhouse had not been mapped yet, but there must be several more rooms although it is too early to establish their mutual connection and function.

Inside the Byzantine Basilica, all the trees and bushes had recently been cut down (the core of the trunks and branches is still whitish). The overall plan now plainly exposes three wide naves with a central row of columns lying just as they have fallen down. There are even a few traces of plaster visible on the walls. This Basilica might be standing on top of an older temple, only time will tell.

The theater is located next to the Basilica. The loose stones have already been inventoried and one day they’ll occupy their original place again. Parts of the skene and proscenium are still standing, including a remarkable window to the outside 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 were cleared of rubble and soil. The big blocks were piled up near the skene and the debris neatly heaped up in the middle of the orchestra waiting to find a way to carry it outside. The benches of each row are still neatly aligned with at the corner the lion paws at their feet. 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 was adapted to Roman needs, as done in Fethiye and Patara. The bashed and battered VIP seats have been moved to the ambulatorium, meaning that at some point the theater was turned into an arena. The vomitoriums on either side are still filled with fallen stones and rocks. I thought it would be interesting to return some day to see the results of these excavations and restorations and apparently the archaeological team is working here again in 2011!

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. From what I saw lately on Turkish TV, diggings have been carried out recently, clearing part of the floor. It is a place that tantalizes your imagination, picturing the races that were held here, something like in the Ben-Hur movie.

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

I climbed higher up to the Acropolis, past a few typical very weathered Lycian sarcophagi. The Acropolis itself had little to offer from antique 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! One can easily locate the other old cities of 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.

So, yes, you definitely should include a visit to Tlos whenever you are around Fethiye or the Xanthos Valley!

[Click here to see all the pictures of Tlos]

Farewell to the Lycian Coast 16

Today is set aside for sailing, swimming and relaxing, and that is exactly what we do. After breakfast, I stroll around the gulet. Our captain is trying to get enough wind to hoist our sails but we are not very lucky this morning. We stop for a swim in a private cove that makes me feel we are the first visitors ever while on the other hand it emanates that kind of old wisdom that so many have been here before us.

After lunch, we set out again in Fethiye Bay and this time, the weather gods are with us. All the sails are out, the motor is silenced and the comforting sounds of wind and water take over. I have nestled myself in a solitary spot at the bow, savoring my front row seating and panoramic view. The deep ink blue sea is dotted with paper-like sailboats. On port side, the mainland of Fethiye is shrouded in a haze and I wonder if this is dust or pollution? It is an unforgettable sensation to be at the mercy of the winds billowing the sails and pushing us towards our next and final destination, Göçek.

All too soon the spell is broken. This is where it all ends. Our gulet is moored among hundreds of other boats. The town’s noises of music, people talking and laughing, merchants selling their knickknacks mingle with the smell of food. Our trip has come to an end. We all find it hard to return to reality and we are glad that our poet has found the right words to summarize the impressions we all share. He wrote them down in the ship’s log but he personally read them to us after our last dinner on board:

L Y C I A N    D A Y S

Warm thanks to the crew of Almira
And Peter, our eloquent guide,
And the skills of our undaunted drivers
On many a hair-raising drive.

We’ve trekked over pine-scented hillsides,
And swum in a wine-dark lagoon,
And relished fine dishes of mezes
Under a pale crescent moon.

We’ve visited hill towns and harbours,
Where the ancient Lycians arose,
Who buried their dead in stone boxes,
And sat in stone theatres for shows.

The oracle temple at Sura,
Where fishy predictions were granted,
And the Ottoman castle at Kale,
By the glow of the sunset enchanted.

The grand council hall at Patara,
New revealed by the deep-delving spade,
Sidyma, Tlos and Pinara –
Of these names are rich memories made.

John Onley October 2007

Click on the Label Lycian Coast to read my full travel story

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

Discovering Sidyma – Lycian Coast 4

So much for Lycia. Now back to Sidyma. The name Sidyma is an Anatolian name, just like Idyma and Didyma, and it is believed that these cities go back all the way to the 10th century BC or so. In the late Hellenistic period, Sidyma must have reached a certain importance since it minted its own coins bearing the inscription ΛΥΚΙΩΝ-ΞΙ. Also during the first years of the Roman Empire, Emperor Claudius felt that Sidyma was important enough to build a temple and a Stoa here - in his honor, I suppose.

Next to the square where we have listened to Peter’s explanations, stands a freshly painted mosque whose whitewashed columns in the front contrast with the bright yellow of the building itself. In spite of their coat of paint, the columns are clearly reused Greek or Roman material and even one of the old capitals has been inserted. The surprise is on the back wall of the mosque where all kinds of Lycian, Greek, and Roman stones have been reused. Some stones still carry their original inscriptions, upside down or not, and we are all fascinated by the beautiful list of gods and goddesses in Greek on one of the cornerstones.

We start out on our quest over rubble corridors framed between stone walls covered with dead wood and dried sticks to keep the goats from jumping over. Today’s way of life is a simple copy and a continuation of yesterday’s, it seems. Houses lean against old Lycian sarcophagi or have annexed doorways that once belonged to some Roman official building. The wheat has been harvested from the field, carefully avoiding the Roman tombs and sarcophagi, or what is left of them. It is clear that the Romans got inspired by the Lycian tombs, copying their general shape but putting a pointed roof on top instead of the overturned keelboats the Lycians used all over the Xanthos Valley. Amazingly enough today’s wooden granaries are still built in the same style as the rock-hewn Roman sarcophagi!

We stop at one of the greater temple-tombs in the middle of a stubbly field, a big square construction, definitely Roman, with a monolith slab on top. The ceiling is divided into squares and each square is decorated with a flower motif or a woman’s head, among which we even recognize Medusa.

The tomb was probably too big to be taken apart for reuse elsewhere and it has been mostly left alone, except for a few pieces of the walls. In the shade of an old tree, we find another sizeable temple-tomb, all four walls still standing and its doorway filled with rubble. If you just pay attention the remnants of Lycian and Roman times are all around you: pieces of columns in the field or inserted in houses, nice square cut stones from unchartered buildings, or simply the rubble that covers the footpaths between the fields where lumps of marble have been chopped down and mingled with rocks, pottery, and faience.

Peter now takes us to a cluster of Lycian and Roman sarcophagi, next to the remains of a prismatic tomb. The view from here over the five kilometers wide Xanthos Valley is breathtaking! What a spot for a burial ground! Imagine if you have to choose a place for yourself or your close family, wouldn’t you like to have a view like this?

Back in the quiet village square, the shepherd is still tending his flock, moving his shiny zinc bucket from one goat to the next, making sure they all get their share of water. Our van rides up and seems once again so out of place. It must be noon time and it is rather hot on this mid-October day. I welcome the coolness of our modern transportation but the pleasure does not last as it is only a short distance to our first walk on the Lycian Way, marked with its typical red and white stripes. I don’t know what exactly I expected to find on this Lycian Way, what it would look like or how steep it would be, but anyway, this is worse than what I could have imagined!

The footpath soon turns to a track, zigzagging all the way down to the sea. The terrain is rough and where the Byzantine road is visible, going is reasonable although uncomfortable. The climb down is less than a thousand meters but about halfway it turns into chaos. Landslides have pushed entire portions of soil out of place and we trip over the many loose rocks, slipping and sliding among the long pine needles. The heat of the day is heavy and we are running low on our water supply. Far down the sea is beckoning and it seems to take us forever to get there. Panic, fear and even sickness take over. My own knees are trembling and I fear they’ll not carry me on my next risky step. I sit down on a shady rock, enjoying one more sip of water and reminding myself that time is not the essence when confronted with nature in a precarious situation. The pace doesn’t matter anymore; down there our dinghy will be waiting for us anyway. Two of my companions are far ahead when I meet up with the couple that joined us recently, the husband is not feeling well, he says. He doesn’t look good either: whitish, yellowish, ready to faint at any moment. Peter is behind me helping another couple over the rubble and when he catches up with the patient the diagnosis is clear: dehydration. He has him lie down with his feet higher than his head and advises him to drink as much as he can. I get back to my feet and work my way further down. The scramble seems endless. I remove dirt from stones to get a foothold. I poke the rocks with my stick to make sure they are not loose and will not take me on an unexpected journey. At long last and much later than expected we arrive at the seashore. Thank God! Peter courageously turns back with one of the shipmates to bring the stranded couple down. They all return much sooner than expected as the husband has recovered pretty fast and met his rescuing party halfway.

Back on board, the cool water tastes like the elixir we are all dying for. A good swim or a hot shower puts our bones and muscles back in place. I am hungry, maybe a little too tired to eat? We have lunch later than planned, so maybe we’ll have a late dinner also?

We all are pounding today’s experience and speculate about the risks we may or may not take in the days to come. We are however thankful we made it all in one piece. Earlier than you would expect it, our stomachs start grumbling again and we wind up eating our dinner at the usual time. It is 10 p.m. when I return to my cabin. The chilly winds have blown all the mosquitoes away tonight. This means I can sleep with the portholes wide open and for the first time I’m getting a good night’s rest.

In spite of his sickness earlier today, our patient shows his talents as a poet and this is what he has to say about our visit to Sidyma.

S I D Y M A
Merhaba! Ingiliz? comes the modern greeting
To seekers of an ancient Sidyma.
A tractor-driver waves. Beside the well
An old man, timeless, waters his black goats.

They live among the rubble of the past,
Recycled blocks of stone in homes and barns,
Tread fractured marble on their village tracks,
See Lycian pillars rear above their fields.

A cow reclines against a fallen column,
Carved capitals shore up the terraces,
The garnered dead, inside their rock-hewn tombs,
Survey the stubbled land where once they reaped.

The curved apse of a lost Byzantine church
Strengthens a farmhouse wall. And in the mosque
Illiterate masons sideways lodged a slab
Inscribed in Greek with Homer’s pantheon.

Apollo, Zeus, Poseidon, Aphrodite,
Cohabit here with Jesus and Mohammed.
Time, and neglect, have fudged a harmony
Of jumbled stones, of peasants, and of gods.

We all feel that these words reflect our impressions so very well.

[Click here for all the pictures of Sidyma (Dorduga)]
Click on the Label Lycian Coast to read my full story

A short history of Lycia – Lycian Coast 3

This is an early wake-up at 6.45 a.m. I'm on deck to watch the first daylight as the gulet prepares to leave immediately after breakfast. The air is cool and, like magic, creates a misty band above the warmer seawater. The short twisted pine trees stand out on rocky islands against a fairytale background, reminding me of a drawing from a Japanese temple wall.

We are heading for Ölüdeniz, the Blue Lagoon, as it is called by the general public and tourists alike. No, this is not a joke; this is the very place where the movie "Blue Lagoon" was actually shot. Well, I never knew it was taken on the Turkish coastline, imagining a faraway tropical island as was meant by the moviemakers. What a clever deception!

We are met again by Ivşak, and the minibus drives us to the site of Sidyma, about 1 ½ hours away. Because of the nearby mountain range, we'll have to make quite a detour: first to Fethiye and over the main road up to Esenköy; from there, right in the middle of the luscious Xanthos Valley that produces a variety of crops. Inevitably, I picture Alexander the Great riding his Bucephalus at a leisurely pace through these fertile fields dotted with a string of cities from Tlos and Pınara in the north to the more familiar Xanthos and Letoon in the south. Somewhere to the northwest of Letoon lies Sidyma, half buried under and among today's Dodurga.

Of course, I first saw the Acropolis of Sidyma on top of a conical hill. The walls and watchtowers looking down on us may be reminiscent of antiquity, but also of Byzantine times - it is hard to tell from down here.

Time seems to have come to a standstill in this part of the country. Our minivan's arrival is the day's event, and the elderly come out of nowhere to greet us, after which they withdraw to the stone bench that sits around one of the trees on what could be the central square. On the side, a proud elderly man is drawing water for his goats, gestures that must go back to the early Lycians.

As Peter introduces us to the history of the early Lycians, the villagers slowly return to their daily chores. I look around in amazement, for our van is so out of place. There is no road to speak of, only a few stony paths wide enough for an occasional tractor, but mainly used by the local people on foot and their mules.

The Lycians were called the Luwian people in early eastern and Egyptian inscriptions, i.e., the Luqqu or Luqqa from the 2nd millennium BC. Lycia's primary 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 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 using 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 dynasty in 310 BC. In 301 BC, it was ruled by Lysimachos, King of Syria. But this kingdom would not live long 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 treat the Lycians fairly, and after many complaints, Rome found it reasonable to grant them their freedom. Finally, the Lycian cities all agreed it was time to unite, and the Lycian League, as dreamed of by 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, each receiving 3 votes in the meetings of the League. Most other cities had 1 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 significantly boosted the Lycians' pride and, eventually, their prosperity.

During the 1st century BC, Lycia became a Roman province with the rest of Anatolia. Still, 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 could develop.

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 finally returned, 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 wealthy 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 5th of August, 240 AD, and the cities were equally destroyed – yet no money seemed to have been available for their reconstruction this time, and the entire region slowly fell into decline. By the 5th century, the Byzantine Empire was crumbling down, and soon afterward, the Arabs invaded the territory.

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