Josephus eased his fishing boat expertly through the rocks, guided only by the full moon. In the distance the call to prayer could be heard, the haunting readings from the Koran echoing around the hills and islands. "Yeah! Awright!" shouted the American next to me, drowning out the meuzzin. He nudged me, just in case I had missed the enormous yellow moon directly in front of us. Many visitors say that 'the past lives on in the present' in Turkey.
We were headed for Üçagiz, a tiny fishing village peppered with the tombs of the Lycians, the fierce Indo-Europeans who moved here from Crete in 1400 BC. Homer mentions them in the Iliad as allies of the Trojans in the Trojan War. Herodotus also makes reference to their fighting acumen; they would rather commit suicide than surrender to an invading force. The ancient pedigree of the area is not easily appreciated upon first arrival since, even in late September, several tour buses a day spill tourists from Kas, onto the shore. They don't linger long, however, before catching a boat for a tour of the numerous islands dotting the horizon. By night, most of the westerners have gone, leaving the village mainly to the locals.
We watched as a small fishing boat was precariously loaded with every type of fruit and vegetable imaginable, before slowly chugging out of the calm natural harbour. Turkey is one of only a handful of countries that is a net exporter of food and the coastal region is the most fertile and productive. Local children came round, smiling, offering everyone, local or not, sweet biscuits and small chocolates.
About 8 million tourists visit Turkey annually, many to the Southern Coast; but enough of its traditional culture and ancient history remains to make it worthwhile. Protected by the mountains and the rugged landscape of the area, the Lycians remained undefeated until Roman times. Herodotus notes that they lived in a matrilineal society, where family heritage was decided on the mother's side. Wandering Üçagiz's few narrow lanes, I didn't find this hard to believe; grandmothers, lost in the folds of their traditional dress, rolled the intricate Gözme, the thin goat's cheese pancake sold everywhere. The men sat around smoking. Young girls ran errands, women were busy cooking or selling. The men sat around gossiping, and smoking.
From a nearby spices stall I could hear the traditional twangy tones of the Ud, the small, strangely shaped Turkish guitar. On investigation we came across probably the oldest bar in Europe. The roofless ruin of an ancient temple had been converted by candles and cushions into a cosy al fresco bar. The owner told me, smiling, that plans for renovations were refused. Imagining a tacky disco in its place I couldn't help but share her cheerful view. The men meanwhile, were sitting nearby, waiting for the tourist bus to arrive; and smoking.
I tried to buy a stamp at the post office but was informed inexplicably, that stamps had finished, but motioning to a fisherman sitting in the shade, the postmaster asked if I would like a boat trip of the islands and the sunken city. Later the crowd of men by the post office door told me that although stamps were out, football was definitely in.
The eastern shoreline of Üçagiz is littered with sarcophagi, their gothic lids removed in defiance of the carved epitaphs threatening curses or arrest.
I found Josephus sitting by the water's edge, sipping tea and constantly turning the beads in his left hand between thumb and forefinger. He was waiting for the full moon.
Üçagiz can make a good base from which to visit other Lycian ruins in the area. Both Aperlai and Apollonia are nearby. Deciding however on Myra, the city at the heart of ancient Lycia, we tried to catch the single daily bus out of Üçagiz. The driver shook his head, only later did I realise that this means "I didn't understand" rather than "No". Eventually we did make it to the city which takes its name from myrrh, and spent the day exploring the colossal theatre and gazing at the ancient tombs cut into the cliff face. Many have the appearance of temple façades and although dating back to the 4th Century BC, the funeral carvings are still in good condition. As in the rest of Lycia, female gods were often highly venerated, the people of Myra worshipped Apollo's sister Artemis, the innumerably breasted goddess of fertility.
Forty minutes walk or a short boat trip away is Kale, named for the Byzantine fortress on its summit. It's a perfect spot from which to watch the many yachts weave their way through the maze of islands. I explored the nearby remains of an amphitheatre, imagining the heated council meetings that must have taken place there. Kale itself is a tiny village clinging to the rocky peninsula. Kale looks out over Simena, a small sunken city discovered by the American Robert Carter in the 1960's. It is, however, no underwater Atlantis, as only the foundations are visible.
Sitting out of the afternoon heat, in the shade of a sarcophagus, I marvelled at how a coastline so popular could hide so much. In the distance the muezzin cleared his throat and began the afternoon call to prayer, this time without interruption.
Questions?
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