After a few days wandering around Antalya we decided to spend a day in Cirali, a small village on the Mediterranean coast, near the ruins of Olympos. Relieved of the weight of our rucksacks, which we had left with the hotel, we took the tram to the very well organised and almost airport-like bus station. We were quickly directed to the correct minibus, which drove slowly (and frustratingly) around Antalya's suburbs to fill up the bus before heading along the coast. The scenery was beautiful, which promised well for Cirali, and justified the slightly early wake-up call.
An hour or so later the bus dropped us atthe turn-off to the village, which was still seven kilometres away. We started to walk but John (instinctively, he claimed) flagged down a car not long after. We were then warmly welcomed by the father of the manager, and after dropping our small bags we headed for the beach. The weather was very nice, a perfect blue sky with a little sea breeze. This was the perfect place for a picnic and we found a quiet spot to enjoy our lunch. We also had a well-deserved little siesta afterwards. I would have stayed sleeping on the beach for longer but John was eager to visit the ruins of Olympos and took great delight in rousing me from an enjoyable snooze.
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| Siesta time |
The foundation of Olympos dates back to the Hellenistic period, several hundred years BC. Conveniently located, the port city prospered under various rulers, including the Romans. It was, however, prone to attacks by pirates. The ruins were not as well-preserved as other sites we had seen before, but we really enjoyed the fact that there were not many visitors. We spent a couple of hours exploring the ruined buildings, some Greek, some Roman, some Byzantine, many of which were hidden away in the undergrowth. We even crossed a little river (getting slightly wet when I misjudged a jump) to see the Theatre. It was not in a very good state, having been destroyed by a couple of earthquakes, but we were just about able to picture what it would have looked like.
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| Ruins of a Genovese castle by the entrance to Olympos |
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| Tomb of Captain Eudemos, a Greek sailor |
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| Mosaic fragments |
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| Byzantine church from 5th century AD |
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| The impressive gateway to a Roman temple |
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| The other side of the city |
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| Crossing the creek at its narrowest point (it looks easier than it was) |
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| Entrance to the Theatre |
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| Minimal remains of the Theatre |
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| More ruins of Olympos |
We walked back along the beach to the hostel, where the owner greeted us with some fresh oranges from his garden. We also met other guests, a friendly Turkish couple on a long weekend from Konya, whom we met later for dinner. The hotel owner recommended a restaurant by the beach, which served us delicious grilled sea bass. The Turkish couple were lovely and we enjoyed a very pleasant evening by the fire.
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| Walking back along the beach towards Cirali |
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30th March
After a healthy breakfast made with home-grown products, we set off to see Chimaera (Yanartas), the eternal flames, which was around three kilometres away. John was slightly agitated to see two tour buses passing by as we walked along the road, and when we arrived they were parked at the start of the climb to the top of the hill.
The climb was steep and we were puffing by the time we reached the summit, just as a large group of 17-year-olds was posing for a team photo. Thankfully they left shortly afterwards and we had the eternal flames to ourselves. The charred summit is lit by a dozen flaming gas vents puncturing the rock. Tradition holds that this is where Bellerophon, according to the Iliad, defeated the fire-breathing Chimaera and imprisoned the still-flaming monster beneath the mountain. Nearby is a ruined temple to Hephaestus, Greek god of fire (mostly portrayed as a lame blacksmith).
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| Starting the climb up to Chimaera |
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| View of the valley below |
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| The eternal flame of Chimaera |
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| Careful not to get too close |
Back in Cirali, we bought a little picnic and sat on the beach. This time no nap was allowed. We went back to the hotel, packed our bags, and set off to walk seven kilometres up hill to the main road to catch a minibus to Antalya. The owner of the hostel clearly thought we were slightly mad to refuse a lift but wished us well. It took us about an hour and a half, which was not bad given the steep climb. Rain threatened throughout but never delivered. One or two cars offered to give us a lift but we thought that a little walk would not do us any harm.
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| The Mediterranean far in the distance after the long climb |
The first minibus to show up was unfortunately full, but the second managed to squeeze us in (although we had to share a single seat for most of the journey). In the evening we celebrated our last day in Antalya in a nice restaurant, where we enjoyed our meal beneath a 19th century fresco.
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