R WE MAD?: 28 Fethiye

We plotted a scenic route through the mountains, however after about 25kms we decided to turn back as the switchbacks and gravel road with sheer drop offs was a bit too much for our Renault (and my right-hand driving skills or so Lorna said).

In Pamukkale we checked into the top rated Melrose House, a beautifully appointed boutique hotel, certainly the best in town.

Having read that Denzili, just outside Pamukkale, is the textile capital of Turkey we asked our hostess where the locals shop, as we wanted to avoid the normal tourist traps. She directed us to a multi storey linen emporium in the centre of town and suggested that we park at the mosque. It must have been obvious that we did not know the system as we were greeted and shown the ropes by a couple of friendly parking attendants. I am sure we were as much a novelty to them as it was for us parking in a mosque.

The jamb packed shops, with their wares spewing out onto the sidewalk, line a spiral walkway ensuring everyone gets an equal opportunity to be visited. Before we new it, we were seated with a cup of chai at a little shop called Naturale. With their smattering of English and a lot of sign language, the friendly and helpful owners Ziya and Mustafa enthusiastically showed us their goods. We left laden with all the items we need for camping in Oman. Lorna gained her first Turkish Facebook ‘friends’ and Randomlight Photography’s its first ‘likes’.

We still had not managed to get the required police report for the scratch to the car, so we headed to where we thought the police station was. We asked the parking attendant for directions who quickly summoned a Traffic officer to assist. As he could not speak English, we were told to wait and before long he returned with the Zabita( Law Enforcement). He immediately phoned the rental company and then told us he would take us to the police, but first…..some chai. Out of nowhere stools and two steaming cups were produced for both of us. By this time we were surrounded by 5 or 6 officials as well as a few civilian interpreters all eager to assist. The Police officer arrived, inspected the damage and said, “this is nothing, do not worry, you do not need a report”. But Mr. Zabita was not giving up, so a second cup of chai was ordered and the Traffic Police were phoned. Within a few minutes an officer roared up on his bike, took a look at the damage and referring to the rental company announced’ “give them a 100 lire and tell them to go away, this is nothing”. Having done all he could, we were escorted, siren wailing through the backstreets and onto the highway to Pamukkale. The report will have to wait.

Translated, Pammukale means cotton castles. These sun bleached travertine shelves cascade down the mountain.

At the top of the crystalline terraces lies Hierapolis, an ancient Roman spa city and healing centre.

Map showing the layout of Heirapolis.

Moon rise over the ancient city

Founded around 190BC, it first prospered under the Romans and then later the Byzantine’s. Recurrent earthquakes brought disaster and in 1334 the city was abandoned.

The water temperature of the Sacred Pool remains at 36 degree

The excellent museum houses spectacular exhibits of sarcophagi, small finds and friezes.

A corner of a sycophagus showing the ornate carvings

En route to Selçuk we deviated to Afrodisias, which being off the main route is hardly visited.


Colonnaded Palaestra

Many undamaged sculptured panels have survived to this day

Excavations have proved that the Afrodisias Acropolis is a prehistoric mound built up by successive settlements dating back to around 5000BC. Wandering through the particularly well preserved ruins one can appreciate the scale and grandeur of this ancient city.