Wandering the Lycian Way: Cirali, Kas and Patara

When we started dreaming about Turkey, our lofty ambition was to trek the Lycian Way, a 30 day, 509 km trail through the mountains along the western Mediterranean coast. As our departure neared and Tom failed to grow a longer pair of legs or the strength to carry his own fully equipped backpack we realized that we would need to scale back our plans. Fortunately Turkey is well set up for people doing day hikes in this historic area so we have been basing ourselves for a few nights at a time in apartments in incredible settings.

After an uncertain wait for an indeterminate amount of time for a bus, we arrived in Çirali, or rather at the stop at the main highway turnoff. Rather than risk another long hot wait for a dolmus we decided to walk the 7 km down the quiet scenic road to town.

The kids were hot, hungry and tired but happy once they got to our bungalow, with orange trees in the garden that our host entreated us to pick whenever we wanted. So to accompany the day's lunch of bread, cheese and olives, (as well as every meal and snack after that) we had fresh juice from just picked oranges.

Çirali is a tiny village, whose inhabitants are trekkers, farmers, and chickens wandering around citrus groves and greenhouses, all in a breath-taking mountain setting.

Paul and I woke early and walked to the beach to watch the sunrise our first two days. 

The walk to and from our bungalow was lovely, and the white and blue of the nearby mosque set against the blue sky and towering mountains made for a stunning scene

(yes we did take this picture!).

Our first day hike was to the flames of Chimaera,

named after the mythic Greek monster. Gas of a still unknown composition seeps from the earth in scattered crevices, spontaneously combusting upon contact with the air. Though fairly small now, in past times the flames were vigorous enough to guide mariners sailing far down below at night.

Our second day we visited the ruins of Olympus, a few km away from our bungalow.  Our host had lent us bikes which were pretty derelict but good for riding from one end of the road to the other. 

We rode them as far as we could and then abandoned them when we had to cross a stream.

After a hike across the pebbly beach

we arrived at the ruins. 

While wandering around them we met a charming American backpacker named Melissa who inspired us with her stories of solo hiking for three weeks through central-west Turkey, and gave us great advice on our travels to come as she had spent a lot of time in New Zealand and Australia. We were glad to have her over for dinner that evening, 

the peaceful solitude she experienced during her treks a distant memory as the kids talked nonstop in their excitement. I was glad that they were polite (relatively) as at other times we wonder if being away from the moderating influences of their grandparents and teachers has turned them into wild savages with no manners - and language not fit for a family blog, or even for a Judd Apatow movie in Tom's case.

Along with the spectacular views 

we have really enjoyed the amazing scents accompanying us on many of our hikes. Impossible to identify all of them but they include orange and lemon blossoms from the citrus groves, rosemary, lavender, thyme and sage from herbs growing wild along the paths, the salt in the sea air, honey from the myriad boxes of bees scattered everywhere and countless flowers including one that smelled exactly like passion fruit. 

Next stop Kas, a busier coastal town with a thriving tourism industry, where we had yet another sweet apartment with incredible views of the sunset from the balcony. 

Our day hikes were over to pebbly beaches for swimming, up to abandoned ruins, 

via a quiet Turkish town where village life apart from tourism was in evidence, and climbs to soaring summits

with an accompanying steep descent down zigzagging switchbacks. We enjoyed walking down all the stairs connecting the streets

and shopping at the market for provisions,

that night we had chicken, potatoes, olives, tomatoes, cucumber and cheese for dinner.

Waiting for our bus to Patara we sipped our kahves and enjoyed the now common sight of residents passing the time amiably chatting, playing games and generally seeming to enjoy life. We took this picture mainly to capture the men playing backgammon behind us.

We had decided to stop for a night in Patara to break up our journey, and because it was reputed to have a nice beach. After a quick swim at the pool at our pansiyon

we hiked to the beach, which turned out to be a 20 km marvel with zero development, virtually no other people, surrounded by massive dunes. 

Capping it all off was a final walk through an odd combo of desert scrub and wetlands arriving at ancient ruins. The kids' mood and dialogue was a perfect example of how our hikes often are. The kids start out each hike with enthusiasm, as their energy wanes and hunger levels rise the complaints start, mild at first - Jacob "my eyes are itchy from all the pollen", Kyra "when am I going to see my friends again", Tom "where are we going to be for Christmas and why can't Santa give us more presents"

and then escalate to grumbles and woeful wails - Jacob "I hate flowers" Kyra "why oh why can't we get a puppy" and Tom "Hiking is so boring I want to go back to  Toronto right now" (accompanied with a collapse on the ground). Paul and I keep everyone going with games, stories, movie reviews (we discuss the plots of movies we've seen), but when the kids tire of the distractions we plead, castigate, then progress to entirely unhelpful yelling (ok that's mostly me). At that point the mood can only be broken by an impromptu picnic or arrival at some destination that excites the kids. Once they reach the beach, ruins or water their joy is boundless and they race ahead, cares (along with the parents who caused them) forgotten.

As is readily apparent to you dear reader, this blog is written and curated by Sarah with loving care.  However, Sarah has allotted me this space at the end (if you even read this far) to inform you about the departure of our treasured companion, our University of Michigan (mini) Football.  I lobbied hard to have Football join us on this adventure along with our perennial favourite, Frisbee (175g).  We had some great times with Football: he went long in Gulhane Park by Topkapi Place in Istanbul where Ottoman Sultans had ruled for centuries; he spiralled through the surreal landscape of Cappadocia; 

and he even soared down Roman main streets that have stood since Hadrian ruled from Britain to Asia Minor. 

However, the ruins of Patara proved too enticing for Football.  As the site of one of the greatest Lycian cities -- one that had prospered even in the time of Alexander the Great (330 BC) -- Football got himself lost somewhere between the world's oldest lighthouse and the Lycian Assembly (which had served as an inspiration to the framers of the US Constitution).  We know that Football will be happy there and that Frisbee will help fill the void.  But he will be missed.

(Picture of Paul racing across the dunes searching (in vain) for the football)