Another pertinent theory about Alexander’s Tomb

All accounts on the whereabouts of Alexander’s Tomb agree up to and including Ptolemy X, who, in 89 BC used the King’s golden sarcophagus to wipe up his financial situation. He replaced the coffin with a translucent alabaster one. 

It has been documented that Cleopatra and several Roman emperors visited the tomb. Caligula and Caracalla did not shy away from taking some of Alexander’s regal attributes, nor did Aurelian and Diocletian in the 3^rd century AD. 

Alexander’s remains were saved from the disastrous tsunami that flooded the North African coast in 365 AD. They were moved to a safe location until the new Christian Emperor Theodosius decided that the cult of Alexander was a threat to his dogma. In the early 5^th century the tomb disappeared from the radar. 

Andrew Chugg in his book The Lost Tomb of Alexander the Great links the disappearance of Alexander’s corpse to the first appearance of St Mark’s tomb when in 828 AD, the Saint was abducted by the Venetians. ‘San Marco’ was placed in a tomb in the crypt of the Basilica built for that purpose in 1094 – or was it Alexander? 

Alexandre Schoedler-Tziamouranis has followed another track using Arab writings. He picked up the account of Hassan-Al-Wassan, also known by his Roman name Leonis Africanus, published in Venice in 1551. He stated having seen the body of Alexander in the crypt of a small chapel.

Another source is found in the 16th century’s description of Luis del Marmol de Carvajal, a Spanish geographer, trader, and historian also known as Claude Marmal. While in Alexandria, he actually saw the embalmed Alexander in his sarcophagus in a place close to the church of St. Mark.

The next witness is said to be George Sandys, a geographer and emissary who saw Alexander’s mummified body and sarcophagus in the same crypt in 1621. The tomb's guardians told him that in 954 Alexander was visible at the mosque Dûl-I-Qarnaïn-Nabi. In the Quran, to this day, Alexander is considered a prophet. From that mosque, Alexander was moved to another mosque and again to where Sandys saw him. 

[Picture from Anabasis, Source jeanclaudegolvin.com]

Alexander may well have a special god looking after him because, in the 18^th century, he was found safely hidden in underground tunnels in Alexandria. This seems to be the site where the French diplomat, Octave Borelli came to see the tomb in 1898. After a diplomatic meeting at the consulate, he was led to the basement where he allegedly caught a glimpse of some gold through a crack in the wall. This most certainly was not the gold of his sarcophagus since Ptolemy X had removed it. Somehow Borelli managed to dig deeper inside the basement where he recognized the body of Alexander the Great, his shield, and other artifacts and gifts (maybe this is the gold Borelli saw?) The tale sounds too good to be true! 

Alexandre Schoedler-Tziamouranis’ account mentions that Borelli returned several times to sketch the tomb and take notes with the intention of bringing Alexander to France. Unfortunately, in 1911, before he could materialize his plans Borelli was murdered. He had not shared the location except with one close friend, whose descendant Alexandre Schoedler-Tziamouranis met. Thanks to this descendant, he had all the pertaining information to locate Alexander’s tomb, which he did with the help of an archaeologist in 2020. 

Apparently, Alexander's sarcophagus had not moved from the consulate’s basement since the early 20^th century, but the consulate no longer exists. It has been replaced by a residential building whose owner refuses access or any excavation to be carried out. 

The above is widely based on an article Alexandre Schoedler-Tziamouranis published in the Greek Reporter in November 2022. 

There may be some truth in this theory, but Alexander’s tomb always eludes us. That is the case for the tomb of St Mark in Venice which may hold the body of Alexander and where the church refuses to open the tomb to have it analyzed. It is again the case in this basement in Alexandria where the owner refuses entry. 

A previous claim was made ten years ago when the crypt of an early Christian church in Alexandria yielded a richly decorated mausoleum that was attributed to Alexander based on the inscription reading “King of Kings, and Conqueror of the World, Alexander III”. That story was never updated (see: New speculation about Alexander’s tomb). 

And let us not forget the ongoing excavation project in Alexandria’s Shalallat Gardens where a beautiful statue of Alexander was unearthed in 2017 (see: Magnificent Alexander statue found in Alexandria)

One may wonder what hidden reasons are keeping Alexander hidden over the centuries.

Istanbul, The Imperial City by John Freely

Istanbul, The Imperial City by John Freely (ISBN 978-0140244618) is by far the most complete historical guide you can find. It is a lightweight, handy format that easily fits into your backpack.

Every first-time visitor will inevitably be overwhelmed by the many remnants of this capital, famed successively as Byzantium, Constantinople, and Istanbul, which has had a far-reaching role on the world map for over three thousand years.

For obvious reasons, the book is divided into three parts.

The first and shortest covers the city's birth on the Bosporus and the first Greek colonization to become the Roman Byzantium, with all the wealth that could be displayed. This was the city besieged by Philip II of Macedonia in preparation for his invasion of Asia. The Romans, in turn, linked the city to Italy through the Via Egnatia, and the Golden Milestone known as The Million marked the distance to the towns stringed along the road. The Great Palace and the Hippodrome date from that era.

The second part starts with the advent of Emperor Constantine in 330 AD, who renamed the city after himself, Constantinople. As such, it became the seat of the Eastern Roman Empire. Under great emperors like Theodosius, Justinian, and the dynasty of the Comneni, the city expanded again. Constantinople was besieged repeatedly from the 7^th to the 10^th century by the Sassanids from Persia, the Arabs from the Umayyad caliphate, and the Crusaders, who thoroughly sacked the city.

The last and no less important part treats the birth of Istanbul as the capital of the rising Ottoman Empire that started in 1453. Sultans like Suleiman the Magnificent wrote history, and many of today's great buildings were built in those days. To name just a few, there is the Grand Bazaar, Topkapi Palace, and the many mosques, especially those made by Sinan, to rival the Hagia Sofia from the 6^th century.

Instead of a dry and dull account, John Freely takes us by the hand and leads us from one place to the next, often unfolding the many superposed layers of Istanbul's rich history. A handy additional chapter is dedicated to Notes on Monuments and Museums, which the author referred to in previous pages. As another helpful tool in the complicated and long succession of rulers, there is also a complete list of all the Byzantine emperors and Ottoman sultans ending when Turkey as such was born and Atatürk became its leader.

As always, John Freely makes history look simple, and it is a great pleasure to travel through the ancient world in his footsteps. Another excellent book by the same author is Aladdin's Lamp: How Greek Science Came to Europe Through the Islamic World – a treasure trove of knowledge!

Antipatreia, a city referring to Antipater?

Today Berat in Albania is specially known for its Ottoman houses, which amazingly have survived the severe communist regime of Enver Hoxha. Not my cup of tea, sorry, but my attention rises when I read a street sign Rruga Antipatrea, a street named after Antipater? It feels like meeting family and of course, I have to explore this source.

Well, it seems that Berat is built on top of ancient Antipatreia, originally settled by a Greek tribe here in northern Epirus in the 6^th century BC. The name Antipatreia apparently leads us back to Cassander who took control of the region in 314 BC. When the Romans arrived in 200 BC, they are said to have razed the city walls and massacred the entire male population. No wonder I see no trace from antiquity. The Byzantine Emperor Theodosius II in turn strengthened the walls again in the 5th century and about one hundred years later Emperor Justinian entirely rebuilt them. We had to wait till the 13^th century for a revival of Berat when a fortress was built, and this is now the heart of old Berat with picturesque streets and medieval houses and churches.

Berat is beautifully set on both banks of the Osum River and under this threatening sky, it seems to revive some spirits from the past. A strange encounter to say the least.

Selge welcomed Alexander

Selge is one of those hidden treasures just a stone’s throw north of Antalya that only a few people visit.

The road leads through an inhospitable land with barren hills, rough rocks, and recently burnt-down trees and bushes, to the banks of the Eurymedon River, today’s Köprülü River that flows past Aspendos further downstream. This river lightens up the entire landscape, tracing a pale turquoise ribbon through the young green grasses and the dark pine trees. The repeated rapids in this fast-flowing water make it very suitable for rafting, a booming business, it seems. Nature unfolds in all its splendour and once again I wonder if Alexander had an eye for this kind of beauty. The higher the road climbs, the denser the thick pine trees, creating a dramatic setting against the snow-topped Taurus Mountains reaching to 2,000-2,500 meters. The steel blue sky makes every turn of the road a picture-perfect postcard.

Inside the National Park of Köprülü, named after the Roman bridge that still spans both steep canyon walls of the river by the same name, I have to drive my car over this centuries-old bridge – quite an exciting experience! From this point onward the road takes one hairpin after the other, but the view is breathtaking! The Eurymedon River gets ever smaller and the view ever wider. Shapeless grey rocks of conglomerate curiously dot the soft spring grass with its profusion of flowers. The scene has something dramatic, unreal, but at the same time timeless - a primeval force. Then the first terraces appear, neatly trimmed parcels of cultivated land promising a good harvest. Above them the first houses arise, low constructions providing shelter from the cold and wind, built in the same grey rocks I saw earlier and brightened up with red tiles. This is the village of Altinkaya, actually built among the ruins of antique Selge.

Selge itself is spread over three hills, all three being located on top of the same hilltop. Nobody in his right mind would even think about attacking or besieging such a city! An earthen road winds between somber houses, a desolate place softened up by a few scanty blossoming pear trees. In antiquity, grapes were cultivated in these parts and even olive trees managed to survive the harsh conditions of Selge. Old sources also mention the presence of a small tree that produced a resin similar to that of incense; an occasional rare specimen may have survived. The grapes disappeared with the arrival of Islam and today their living conditions look even more precarious than before.

Strabo tells us that Selge was founded in the aftermath of the Trojan War, during the second millennium BC. After that the Spartans moved in, followed later on by emigrants from Rhodes, but that the true history of the city starts with the arrival of Alexander the Great in 333 BC.

Selge was constantly at odds with its neighbors and that included Termessos which Alexander would besiege afterwards. So the people of Selge thought it wise to welcome the Macedonian King from the start. Later on, the city would do the same with the Romans although they remained independent until the fall of the Roman Empire. In the fourth century, the Byzantine Emperor Theodosius decided to settle the Goths in Phrygia (i.e. the northern region) who, warlike as they were, attacked and destroyed many cities in Anatolia. In 339 AD they also stood before Selge but couldn’t take the city.

Nothing has been excavated here and everything is left the way Selge was abandoned eons ago. Most remains are like elsewhere in Turkey from Roman times, roughly the 2nd century AD. As always, the theater is the eye-catcher. Built in three-quarters of a circle, its plan is typically Greek; the 30 tiers below the diazoma out of the total 40 are still preserved because they rest on a rocky bottom while the upper 15 rows were supported by masonry that collapsed over the years. Close to nothing is left of the Roman scene that was added later on. Just before entering the theater, I luckily noticed the blank panel that never received its inscription. The theater seated 9,000 people, meaning that Selge must have counted 20 to 25,000 inhabitants. It is a mighty sight, to say the least, and the view from the top towards the snow-capped Taurus Mountains is absolutely breathtaking. I could spend all day just sitting here on the top row…

Through a gate holding the chickens, I enter the Stadium. The owner of this parcel, an elderly man, kindly opens and closes his rudimentary gate in the fence made of all sorts of planks and branches wired together. I glance at his house if I may call this a house, four grey stone walls recuperated from antiquity no doubt but properly covered by a modern tile roof. Three months of the year Selge is covered under the snow, so this roof is definitely no luxury. The inside is a black hole with barren stone walls and an earthen floor, one room for everyone and everything. How can they possibly heat such a place? It takes some effort to discern the outlines of the Stadium, half broken down, half overgrown, or disappearing inside some shack. According to George Bean (Turkeys’ Southern Shore) it never reached the full length of 185 meters, which was also the case with the Stadium of Arykanda and several others but I never seem to have paid much attention to the measurements.

The place is totally littered with loose stones, broken columns and pottery, and plenty of antique rubble through and over which one has to find a way to other paths, passing through more wooden gates and climbing over low walls. Yet I reach the Basilica on the second hill and suddenly I'm standing in the middle of the fully paved Agora, measuring approximately 50 x 50 meters. Remains of the Stoa that framed the Agora on three sides await craftsmen to put the columns back in place. I find a stone with a Greek inscription between Corinthian capitals and column drums, and behind that, a row of loose square pillars line up along what might have been a street. Gee, if only archaeologists would come down here and excavate Selge like they did in Arykanda, it looks so promising!

I scramble around for about three hours, visiting only two of the three hills. I take a good look at the third hill from the top of the second one to define the impressive city wall, once three kilometers long. I’m truly baffled for I had no idea that Selge was so large and so imposing. No wonder Alexander left Selge for what it was! In the middle of no man's land, at a height of 2,000 meters, what was the point? Yet this is a majestic landscape.

Returning along other tracks, I pass a spring of clear water in the shelter of a rock wall, in fact, this is the antique spring that is still being used by the villagers who fill their plastic jerrycans here every day as there is no running tap water.  

I leave Selge which looks still as poor as it was in the second half of last century when George Bean visited it, and I cross the same Roman bridge again. This time, I take the time to stop for a closer look into the deep canyon. You have to admire the engineers from antiquity to dare “hang” this bridge so high above the water and in such a way that it still is being used today. The wild waters of the Köprü River are squeezed through the narrows from which two waterfalls add to the spectacle. In fact, these waterfalls are fed by underground springs whose water is pressed through the cracks in the rock formation. I don’t think the rafting companies I passed earlier today will dare venture into this part of the river! A little further down there is a second bridge, the Bügrüm Bridge from Ottoman times that spans the Kocadere River, a tributary to the Köprü (old Eurymedon) River. There is a path leading over that thin arch but that is too daring for me. I also come across the typical red and white marks of the Lycian Way that follows an ancient road that once connected Side to Konya.

Yes, there is enough left for a second visit to Selge, someday soon I hope.

Ancient Myra from Finike

Today I decided to drive to nearby Myra. This is where Santa Claus was buried, not the legend but the real man, Saint Nicolas, of course. His grave is still here although his remains were stolen by Italian merchants in 1087 and taken to Bari, Italy. 

After Finike, the coastal road follows the contours of the landscape with every curve around the capes and inside the bays, offering rewarding views at each and every turn. It feels strange to be driving on this well-maintained road that I seem to know so well, looking at it from the gulet when I sailed these waters last year. It appeared as a horizontal scar in the landscape, now a winding ribbon of asphalt that is not free of danger from falling rocks. But I enjoy every mile of it. Soon enough, I enter the modern town of Demre that fills the entire bay, and I am happy to see that there are plenty of road signs directing me to ancient Myra.

Most of the ancient city lies underneath today’s Demre and is hidden under five meters of alluvial silts from the Demre River. This large plain is now almost entirely covered with greenhouses stuffed with tomatoes – very efficient but not exactly a sight for sore eyes.

Myra was first mentioned in the 1st century BC when it was one of the six leading cities of the Lycian League (with Xanthos, Tlos, Pinara, Patara, and Olympos), but its origins are believed to go back to the 5th century BC. The name was spelled MYRRH, and the Lycian coins bear the abbreviation ΛΥΚΙΩΝ ΜΥ. Myra once had a great Temple of Artemis Eleuthera (a distinctive form of Cybele), said to be Lycia's largest and most splendid building. However, St. Nicolas had the temple completely destroyed. How dared he?!

The ancient city was hit by a terrible earthquake in 141 AD, and our friend Opramoas of Rhodiapolis donated no less than 200,000 denarii for its reconstruction, together with two other benefactors, Licinius Langus of Oenoanda and Jason of Kyaenai. Under Emperor Theodosius II, it became the capital of the Byzantine Eparchy of Lycia. Myra lost one-third of its population to the plague in 542-543 AD, and after subsequent Muslim raids, flooding, and earthquakes, it was mostly abandoned by the 11th century. 

Plainly visible upon arrival is the Graeco-Roman Theater of Myra, chiseled into the rock and said to be the largest in Lycia and the third largest in Turkey. This is where I start. It is indeed quite impressive, and I manage to arrive before the busloads of tourists. I walk between interesting debris of carved stones from the Theater showing theatrical masks and beautiful reliefs of birds, mythological scenes, and, of course, the ever-present Muses. Then I climb all the way to the top, 38 rows above the skene, for a complete overview of the modern town of Demre and to get a feeling of what the theater-goers in early times must have seen looking towards the sea. Several rows lower, I walk the well-preserved diazoma whose face is rich with inscriptions, niches, and reliefs. The holes in the terraces once held wooden posts to which sunshades could be fastened, just like I have seen before in Limyra and Arykanda. A real touch of luxury, and why not? It seems that in the 3rd century AD, the theater was even used as a circus and for water sports!

Left of the Theater, I can’t miss seeing the many Lycian tombs cut out in the face of the rocks, but they are not accessible to visitors; only the ones of the eastern necropolis are. So I set off to that side, but then I didn’t find any path in spite of my repeated attempts through the orange groves and medlar orchards. I see a signpost indicating that the Lycian Way passed here, but I wish the backpacker good luck in finding out where he is going, for I can’t, and honestly, after yesterday’s experience hunting for Rhodiapolis, I lack the energy to investigate much further. An old woman kindly tries to put me back on track, handing me a couple of sweet apples, but in vain! OK, that was that.

[read further in Myra, the city of Saint Nicolas]
[Click here to see all the pictures of Myra]