As promised. Fethiye.

Day one: the local bus to Kaya Kula, a village built in the 19th century and emptied during a mandatory population exchange with Greece, which sent the Orthodox Christians packing. a spooking but beautiful place, nestled among the foothills and slowly disintegrating. After this, we took a long walk down a country road (I can now count to ten in Turkish), then donkey path, to the long-abandoned monastery of Af Kule. If you want a quiet place to meditate on God, I recommend it. The pictures don’t do it justice, of course. The main chapel area is carved into the mountain, 200 meters below the top fo the ridge, and hundreds and hundreds above the water. It was a scramble to get down, and I can’t imagine having to lug supplies the 7 or so kilometers fro Kaya then down this path. Dedication. I instantly like Turkish monuments more than the European ones I managed to see – the monastery is crumbling, with trees growing among the remains of the small building, the walls around the courtyard mostly gone. But the chapel’s stairs remain, so we climbed up and in. At the top I realized the monks had carved themselves a balcony, so we climbed out a small porthole and looked down on the grounds, the mountains, and the ocean. A wonderful place to spend an hour. After sunset from the peak above, we managed a series of rides back to Fethiye, my first experience with Turkish generosity.

Day two was the ruined city of Xanthos and it’s ‘nearby’ (5km) temple complex of the Letoon (for Leto, the nymph who seduced Zeus and bore Apollo and Artemis. Hera was most displeased). An intriguing romp, especially the backside of Xanthos, which was overgrown, sarcophagi scattered seemingly randomly among the long grass and olive trees. Had my first Kunefe for dessert back in town, but certainly not my last.

Day three was started cloudy, but clear skies soon affirmed our decision to rent a scooter and hit the coastal road to the beach and Butterfly Valley beyond. A bit cold for swimming (though we probably could have), the beach was nonetheless lovely in its stunning turquoise waters. The road wound up and away, hugging the mountains as we wended east. Slow going to to frequent picture-stops, but it was a magnificent ride. A bit like cape Breton, but even harsher, bigger mountains, and bluer water. We stopped for a hike and chat with a friendly Turk recently of Maple Ridge. Ate our lunch atop a saddle housing the faint, unmarked remains of a long ago village, just a cleared square and some terraces cut into the mountain. Continued down the road until it ended, before we got to ride the entire viewway again in reverse. Scootering is the greatest way to get around, even if weak brakes and long 10% grades make for slightly sweaty palms.

Today was a busride (and long walk down a country road) to Tlos, much pictured below. Another ruined city, if anything older than the others, it was an amazing combination of location and construction. With thunder booming all around and the rain darkening the far side of the valley, we explored it’s high temples and rock-cut tombs. A beautiful place, surrounded by farms and housing it’s own herd of goats.

And that pretty much wraps Fethiye.