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out over the river and the lively scene of clamoring seagulls,
honking ferries and colorful market stalls that surrounds it.
CAPPADOCIA
From hobbit holes to fairy chimneys to Alice’s giant
mushrooms, Cappadocia abounds with fairy tale metaphors — and some more adult ones, too, like the aptly
named Love Valley. That’s because the usual descriptors
fail before this otherworldly landscape of volcanic spires,
caverns, cliffs and pillars chiseled out of limestone by
thousands of years of meager rainfall. With just a few days
and without a car, Linnea and I stayed in central Göreme,
where we could walk to the Open Air Museum of cave
churches bedecked with spectacular 12th-century frescoes. We chose Kelebek Special Cave Hotel for its cliffside
location, spectacular views of the rock spires at sunset, and
the chance to sleep in our own limestone fairy chimney,
complete with elfin wooden door.
We spent an entire day scaling crumbling cliffs to
find the most brilliantly painted cave churches and
exploring the underground city of Kaymakli, excavated
by warring Hittites eight stories below the earth. And,
like pretty much every other Cappadocia visitor we met,
we woke before dawn to take a hot air balloon ride over
the valley, awed by the sight of the sun over the rose-hued cliffs as dozens of rainbow-hued balloons soared
together into the sunrise.
EPHESUS AND SELÇUK
Arriving in the tiny village of Selçuk by bus, I climbed the
hill to the Basilica of St. John the Apostle just in time to
see the columned tomb and the walls of Ayasoluk Fort
turned gold by sunset. Surrounded by farms and orchards,
Selçuk restaurants make good use of the bounty, and I ate
the best lamb kebabs and stuffed eggplant of my trip there
at Ejder restaurant, popular for its terrace view of the
Roman aqueduct that bisects town.
Two million people visit Ephesus every year, but when
the local minibus dropped me off the next morning,
pouring rain gave me the gift of solitude. As I walked the
Royal Road through this city once second only to Rome
in size and power, I seemed to feel my feet slipping into
grooves worn by Caesar’s soldiers. From there it was on
by bus to climb the sparkling white travertine terraces of
Pamukkale and to soak my feet in the steaming calcium
carbonate–infused pools, after clambering around the
ruins of Heiropalis, built by the Greeks in the second century B.C. to take advantage of the holy waters.
ANTALYA AND THE MEDITERRANEAN COAST
The gateway to Turkey’s southern “turquoise” coast,
Antalya is a dreamy, sensuous city where strolling the
sunny waterfront seems to be a way of life. Don’t miss the
chance to stay within the ancient walled city, where cars
are few, bougainvillea runs rampant and every restaurant
seems to have a lantern-lit terrace. Historic sites stud this
area, many of them ancient Lycian seaports linked by a
footpath known as the Lycian Way. I’ve rarely felt history
come alive as it did in Phaselis, where arches, aqueducts,
an amphitheater and thousands of giant stone building
blocks lie tumbled among the trees as if a giant had just
stopped playing with them.
Visiting Turkey’s ancient cities, you can’t help but
notice that many of the most impressive statues, friezes
and sarcophagi have been removed (for the protection of the
artifacts). You’ll find them in the Antalya Archaeological
Museum, including spectacular Lycian mosaics lifted from
Xanthos and Perge’s Three Graces and Gallery of the Gods.
Really, there’s nothing like standing before the grand tomb
of Pericles, perfectly preserved since the fourth century
B.C., to make you feel small.
My last few days, back in Istanbul, were spent bargaining for neon-hued pottery and jewel-toned lamps and
carpets in the Grand Bazaar and taking a ferry ride to the
Prince Islands, where horse-drawn carriages take you
to hilltop Greek monasteries with stunning views of the
island-dotted Bay of Marmara. And of course, I made one
last pilgrimage for kaymak. m
Opposite, clock wise from
top left: The writer with
her daughter on top of the
castle at Üsküdar with
the Turkish flag; sailing
over the fairy towers of
Cappadocia; travertine
terraces and hot springs
at Pamukkale. This page
from left: The writer in the
abandoned fifth-century
church of St. John the
Baptist; the amphitheater
at Hierapolis.
