Turkish Muse

Trabzon: Anıl Pide

It is a sad fact that not all Turkish food is good in Turkey. I'm sure it must be like that everywhere. There must be, of course, lackluster croissants in France and fair to middlin' paella in Spain. But I find it to be especially sad that one of my favorite Turkish foods -- pide -- is something I cannot seem to find in Izmir.

There used to be an amazing Konyalı pide place just by our house, but after it closed due to general incompotence, I spent months trying to find a replacement. And I never did. Most of the pide made at the places I tried in Izmir came straight out of the kitchen soggy and wet -- how do they even do that? -- and had far too much oil than necessary. 

As a result, I haven't had good pide in months and they were long, long months. And when we went to Trabzon I more than made up for that.

When we told the driver we hired for the day that we wanted to eat pide for lunch, he said he knew just where to take us. We followed his lead and he took us straight to Anıl Pide, just off Ataturk Alanı in the heart of Trabzon's centre.

I started off with the Yaprak Pide, which reminded me a lot of lahmacun (below) and Jeff ordered the kapalı kiymalı pide (closed meat pide, above middle-right). Both were excellent, though they didn't quite make up for a months-long pidesiz existence.

So in the evening -- after our driver had left us and he coudn't see our secret shame -- we scurried back to the restaurant and tried a few more options. I know it's unorthodox, but tavuklu pide (pide with chicken) is one of my favorite types of pide. Actually, it IS my favorite type of pide. It's just that it's kind of difficult to find on most menus so I normally end up going with karışık (mixed), which I always hope means I get a few obligatory tomatoes instead of a half kilo of ground meat.

But when Jeff ordered his pide (below) we realized the secret to the Black Sea's pide reputation: butter. Copious amounts of butter. And not just used in the actual cooking but piled in a melting spoonful on top.

I figured after all those months of not eating pide, any amount of butter I ate that day would be more than worth it.

Useful info: Anıl Pide, Ataturk Alanı No 8, Trabzon, Tel: 0462 321 05 40 / 321 05 41

Trabzon: Atatürk Pavilion

After spending the morning at the Sumela Monastery in Trabzon, we then headed over to the Atatürk Pavilion, an early 20th-century summer house originally built on the hills of Trabzon by a wealthy banker. 

I don't really go for Atatürk paraphernalia, which is what the former house is now dedicated to, but I'm kind of obsessed with 20-century architecture, particularly when it comes to houses, furniture and design, so I definitely wanted to see it.

It was only when we got there that I realized I had seen it, 12 years ago on a trip with Rotary. Duh. My long-term memory is pretty bad, but still. You'd think I'd remember something like this.

 

The house was built by a Pontic Greek living in Trabzon who ran a prosperous bank and used in the summer time. Surrounded with well-manicured gardens, the house would have been a lovely place to spend summers, I imagine, though I didn't see any place for swimming and think that would have been necessary for me at least.

After the forced population exchange between Turkey and Greece, however, the family who owned the house was forced to give it up, along with their lives in Trabzon, and move to Greece. The house was then given as a "gift" to Atatürk in 1924. He stayed in the house three times during his trips to Trabzon.

But as I mentioned, I'm far more interested in design and layout, and this gorgeous entryway coat rack immediately caught my eye.

They don't make them like that anymore, do they? Except maybe in Turkey.

The house was designed in a very clever way, grounded by a spacious circular central room which other rooms extended from, like spokes on a wheel. It made the house feel expansive and, I'm sure, with all the windows open, the cross breeze in the summer heat would have been lovely.

Also, isn't that pool table awesome? And those floor tiles?!

One of the handful of rooms on the ground floor is where Ataturk wrote his will. My apologies for the dark photo.

And immediately next to that is this awesome waiting room, situated to the immediate right of the entrance. I'd love to have one of these. "Wait there please, I'll be with you in a moment."

It was at this point, however, that the museum steward asked me to stop taking pictures as photography was forbidden. I attempted to steathily grab a few more shots -- particularly upstairs -- but he had one eye on me and one eye on his tour group so olmaz. That just means you'll have something to look forward to when you go see it for yourself!

As I mentioned in my Sumela Monastery post, we hired a car and driver for the day, so getting there for us was easy. It should be relatively simple to get there by bus from the city centre, however. The entry cost to the house was 2 TL. 

Trabzon: Sumela Monastery

When Jeff told me several months ago that he wanted to go to Trabzon for his birthday, I was less than enthused. Trabzon? I said. For your birthday?

There wasn't much I remembered of Trabzon from my first visit there some 12 years ago on a Rotary trip with other foreign exchange students. I remembered the Sumela Monastery and how gorgeous that was, of course, but mainly had a vision of a bland, grey industrial port town.

"Don't you want to go to Antalya or something? Somewhere we can really celebrate?" I asked.

Nope. So Trabzon it was.

I set about trying to make the most of our 48-hour trip by booking us into the Novotel -- it's the city's most Western hotel and I figured we could get a nice drink there -- and arranging a private driver to take us all over the city on Saturday, Jeff's actual birthday.

But clearly the star of our weekend -- and the reason we had travelled to Trabzon in the first place -- was the Sumela Monastery.

We first laid eyes on it from the car (above) on a 3-km road that switchbacked up a cliff facing the Altındere valley. Because we were in a car, we didn't have that much walking to do on the way to the actual monastery, not as much as I remembered from 12 years ago when we came by a large bus.

The walk up provided the perfect backdrop for a few portrait photos.

And then just a few minutes later, we saw it: the Greek Orthodox monastery built first in 386 AD and rebuilt by several subsequent emperors, used as a place of worship by generations of Pontic Greeks living in Trabzon.

What you see today is the monastery as it basically stood in the 13th century, when Alexios III (1349-1390), ruler of the Empire of Trabzon, poured money into its upkeep and expansion. 

The monastery's famous frescoes, however, weren't added until the 18th century. And I must say, the frescoes are amazing. Truly outstanding. Substantial restoration work has been done to the monastery and the frescoes are bright, vivid and clear. I've seen many smaller churches in Turkey with sadly faded and warped frescoes but these are magnificent.

My knowledge of Christianity has improved greatly having lived in Turkey these five years -- go figure -- yet I still have trouble determining what's happening in many frescoes and often turn to Jeff and say, "Who is that and what is he doing?" It's rather embarassing, really, though we did pick up a lovely book at the exit -- "The Unknown Frescoes of Sumela" by Ismail Kose -- that page by page, fresco by fresco, explains what each represents. A magnificent idea for a book. If only I had it while I was in the monastery!

We spent about two hours roaming the monastery, much of which is closed to visitors though there is definitely plenty to see. We even managed to shoot I dare say the absolute best self-portrait I've ever been able to do.

It was a fabulous start to Jeff's birthday and the weekend in general, and I was pleased to be able to go back and see the monastery a second time.

Useful Info: Getting to Sumela Monastery is remarkably easy with a tour guide. Eyce Tours offers daily trips to the monastery for 25 TL, which includes the entrance fee to Altındere National Park. Entry to the site is a separate 8 TL per person.

 

View from Bodrum

While in Bodrum a few weekends ago, Jeff and I were strolling through the shopping district lining the bay, following our noses, as they say, when we happened to notice a small narrow alley lined with flowers off the main street.

A beautiful sleek cat ran ahead of us, turned around to look and ran forward again. Well, that was our cue: follow the cat!

We headed up the steep incline, marveling at the flowers spilling over from a first-floor patio, hanging loose and carefree from iron gates. As we got closer, we realized that the free-flowing vines snaking up the building belonged to a pension.

We ascended the half staircase to the landing, intending to just pop in and get a business card to consider the hotel for our next trip to Bodrum. Instead, the woman behind the desk offered to show us around and even take us up to the terrace, where she told us there were gorgeous views of the Bodrum bay.

Well, of course, we agreed. Leading us up a few flights of stairs, which wrapped around the outside of the building, each new floor offered a growing glimpse of Bodrum from up above the city. She showed us a lovely and spacious room, then led us through the elaborate gate leading the way to the terrace.

From there, Bodrum seemed spectacularly different than it had on the harbor. 

Way up high on the terrace, I could make out the outline of the two small bays, separated by the Bodrum Castle. The yachts in the harbor seemed grander than when I saw them on land and reminded me of nights on Bosphorous, the way their lights twinkled in the dusk.

I preferred to concentrate my attention on the sea, instead of behind me where the hills were crowded with white summer houses that looked hastily built and stacked precariously on top on one another.

We sat a spell with the woman who had brought us up to the terrace, drank a coffee and swapped stories of living and working in Istanbul and what we had done in Bodrum thus far.

Though we spent most of our time that weekend on the ground, navigating the pazar area, laying on the beach, eating fish on the harbor, my nicest memory of the weekend was that moment when I came up the stairs, turned my head and saw this.

Ask the Expat: Hotel recommendations in Foca?

I just received a very timely question from Charlie, who writes:

Hi Barbara, Thanks for your blog! Can you recommend a hotel for a night in Eski Foça? We are staying there to get a feel for a traditional fishing village on our way down the coast.

Very sadly, I do not as of yet have a hotel recommendation for Eski Foça. This is indeed very sad because Foça is one of my favorite places to visit. In fact, we're planning to head up there the last weekend in June to while away an afternoon at the beach before having a delightful fish dinner.

Last summer, we stayed at a hotel that I DO NOT recommend, the reasons for which I have enumerated on my "Find a Hotel" Resources page. Here's what I had to say about this particular hotel last summer:

"Here's a hotel I do NOT recommend that you stay at: Oscar Boutique Hotel and Cafe. When we first went to Foca in October 2009 and stumbled across this cute little place, I was smitten without even looking at the rooms. Who needs to do that when the cafe is so cute? I thought. WRONG. When we stayed the night there in July 2010, I was astounded at how small the room was. They had squished three single beds into a long, narrow room, leaving about 3 inches between my bed (which was squashed next to Jeff's, naturally) and my cousin's. Not naturally. The bathroom was perfectly fine except that the toilet was so high my feet didn't touch the ground and I couldn't turn around in the shower stall without hitting my head on the shower head. On top of all that, we paid 170 TL for 3 people. We won't be going back there. As soon as I find a nice hotel to recommend, I will do so here!"

Unfortunately, we didn't get back to Foça after that trip and so I never did find an alternative solution. However, not all is lost! On our last trip we picked up a few ideas for where we might stay next.

Bülbül Yuvası Boutique Hotel: We toured this hotel (called The Nightingale's Nest in English) on our last visit to Foça and immediately decided we would stay there on one of our trips back. The only reason we haven't yet is the price. This is a gorgeous hotel, though and I'm sure the price is worth it if you have a couple hundred lira to spare.

Angora Pansiyon: If you're on a budget, this may be better. According to their website, Angora is having a special during the month of June: 60 TL for a double room with breakfast, quite a steal!

Huzur Pansiyon: The gallery of photos on this pension's website look gorgeous, as does the view from the terrace!

I understand though, Charlie, that you could have found these places yourself online and that what you were really looking for was a recommendation. I'm sorry I don't have one for you yet, but I'm hoping that maybe one of our readers does? Has anyone travelled through Foça and had a pleasant experience at one of its hotels? Do share, please!

Izmir's Mask Museum

Izmir's newest museum -- one dedicated solely to, wait for it, masks -- asks the following question:

"What is Mask?"

Its answer?

"Mask, the most general sense painted cardboard, cloth, leather or plastic and passed in the face to face."

Um. So. Seriously. I can't make that up.

I know what you're thinking: A mask museum? In Izmir?

And, yes, I thought exactly the same thing when I first saw the museum in Alsancak a few months ago. It wasn't open then, and I honestly wasn't sure it would ever open (because, seriously, what do masks have to do with Izmir's culture? Izmir doesn't even have any good museums dedicated to its own culture!), but while out on Sunday afternoon, I noticed new signage proclaiming its grand opening.

Surprisingly, the museum is not half bad. It's only 4 TL to get in, a fine price especially since the museum is composed of only four small rooms. The lower floor features masks donated by several private collections, mostly pieces from Indonesia, Thailand and Western Africa.

Upstairs, there's a small collection of masks created by Turkish artists, including some interesting masks of famous people's faces, and masks of popular comic book characters. There's one wall dedicated to Anatolia, but curiously, there is only one mask in the exhibit (pictured below); the other two pieces are items of clothing. Not sure what that's all about.

Now that I've basically shown you everything there is to see in the museum, why don't you go check it out for yourself?

No, in all seriousness, if you're in Izmir on one of those cross-country tours and your bus stops in the city for four hours and the driver says, "Okay, everybody, get out and have fun and meet back here at 7 pm," then this museum isn't a bad way to kill 20 minutes while you wind your way through central Alsancak trying to find a place to sit down and have a beer.

The Practical Info: Izmir Mask Museum, Cumbali Sokak No. 22, Tel: 0232 465 3107. Open every day except Monday from 10:30am to 7:00pm.

 

A Few Thoughts on Travel (and Paris)

It has taken me far too long to write this post, and for that I do apologize. I kept thinking that I wanted to write about Paris and I couldn't think of anything to say about the city that hasn't already been said ad nauseum already. As I deleted draft after draft, I realized that what I actually was trying to write about was why we travel, not just to Paris, but to everywhere.

My favorite kind of travel are city holidays, as evidenced by such recent visits to Prague, Munich, Sofia and Paris. I'm most happy walking through a city's street, visiting its cafes, revelling in its museums, watching its people. I'm not interested in anything so-called "outdoorsy" unless you consider walking outside "outdoorsy". I like to notice the way people dress, what they order to drink at cafes, what a country holds in its museums.

Many people, of course, travel to see things. We go to see the Louvre, or the Eiffel Tower, or the Sultanahmet Mosque. We go to these places to be awed, to be imbued with just a smidge of the grandeur that these buildings and monuments add to the world.

We go too to obtain a bit of "cultural capital." We go to say we have been there, to show off the photographs we have taken of famous sculptures or monuments or landmarks, even if we know absolutely nothing about them other than that they are famous for some reason or another.

I saw this first-hand at the Louvre, where you are, sadly and inexplicably, allowed to photograph sculptures and paintings. Even if you're not supposed to use flash, many, many people do. It saddens me to remember people actually touching sculptures with their oily fingers, and complaining that someone stopped a moment too long in their lingering and ruined their photograph (never mind that everyone has digital cameras nowadays).

On our first night in Paris, I caught my very first glimpse ever of the famed Eiffel Tower and my first thought was: yuck. I mean, really? That montrosity? From afar, seeing only the top half of the tower with its antenna sticking out the top, the dark tower seemed hideous, completely out of place with Paris's Baroque, Gothic, and Art Nouveau architectural masterpieces.

Then I got closer to the tower and decided it was the most beautiful manmade monument I'd ever seen. When sorting through the more than 500 photos I took during the week we were in Paris, I discovered that I had taken dozens of the Eiffel Tower, more than any other site, more than I took at the Louvre even.

There's some essential truth about travel in that, isn't there? That from afar something can seem scary and ugly and unwelcoming and then, the closer you inspect it, the more you begin to fall in love with it.

I also travel, I'll admit it, to eat. Especially things I don't eat in Turkey. On this trip, I made sure to partake of the duck confit, the spicy sausage sandwiches, and yes, copious amounts of champagne and bordeaux.

Instead of hopping on one of Paris's famous public bicycles or the city's metro, we opted instead to walk everywhere. On one day, we clocked about 6-7 miles walking from Les Halles to Champs Elysses, to the Eiffel Tower, through St. Germaine and the Latin Quarter, then back over to the Louvre, all the while zigzagging through interesting streets and stopping in cafes for fuel.

That was how we stumbled across a restaurant where we had the most amazing bœuf bourguignon lunch (we later saw that the restaurant was listed in our guidebook, but we felt pretty cool for having "discovered" it first). Most of the time, we followed our instincts to find shops and restaurants, but we did consult the guidebook several times for recommendations.

Which brings me to one of the great undertalked about benefits of living in a foreign country: when you travel to yet another foreign country you're already (sort of) wise to the tourist trap. Living in Turkey not as a tourist but not as a local either has taught me how to size up a potential cafe or restaurant or how to gauge the quality of a souvenir shop. These are things you don't even realize you've picked up on when you're abroad (out of Turkey, I mean) until you pass a restaurant with a sign proclaiming its authentic Indian food, and you say "no way". You can't get "authentic Indian food" for 10 euros, sorry, at least not in central tourist areas.

For expats living in Turkey, going abroad also means going shopping, and I don't mean for touristy trinkets and miniature Eiffel Tower statues. We bring back suitcases filled with stinky cheeses, hunks of ham, bacon and wine. We stop at duty free and pick up hard-to-find liquers such as Cointreau or crème de cassis so that we can partake of a kir on the balkon and pretend we're in Paris again.

I ended up coming back from Paris with a removable-bottom tart pan, a muffin pan, a springform pan, ground mustard seed and celery seed, things I never in a million years would have purchased in France if I lived in the US. When I was in some of Paris's specialty kitchen shops looking for bakeware that I can't find here in Turkey, I marveled at the Americans buying whisks! Whisks! Which you can find for $2 at Target! Gah!

But people are different, and they do crazy things like buy whisks in Paris instead of macaroons or chocolates and, hey, if that makes you happy, then that's what matters, right?

I'm curious to hear from you guys though: why do you travel? If you're an expat in Turkey (or elsewhere, for that matter) what is it like for you to travel to another foreign country from here? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

My Favorite Thing About Turkey: Soaking up Istanbul's Past

We're wrapping up a week of people's favorite things about Turkey with a guest post from long-time Turkish Muse reader Dion Good.

Past the Blue Mosque, down the hill beyond the end of the old Hippodrome toward the Marmara shore, away from the tourist crowds, is a sleepy neighborhood clustered around one of the oldest structures in İstanbul, Kuçuk Aya Sofya (Little St. Sophia).

The mosque itself is nestled right up against the old city wall. Enter the compound and make an immediate right and you will find yourself in one of the loveliest çay bahçeler (tea gardens) in all of Turkey. It occupies one side of a courtyard complex that was once part of a church cloister (the mosque was originally a Byzantine church, and you can still see Latin inscriptions on the walls inside). It now houses a cultural center and a couple of book shops in addition to the çay bahçe. In the center of the courtyard is a garden with a fountain, and shade trees.

Surrounded by cool stone walls in the shadow of the mosque, the past is present here, more so than in more famous places thronged with tourists. It is a dreamy place, where, for a few hours, you can read a book and forget which century you are from. Ottoman tombstones dot the mosque’s yard and a rear gate opens onto an ancient cobbled street which leads away along the original sea wall.

The mosque has been renovated recently and some of the decrepit buildings around it have been torn down. It is almost a pity; some of its character has been lost. Yet I will continue to come here each time I am in İstanbul, because it is a place where the past still feels accessible, where one can feel connected to the river of life which is history.

About the Author: Dion Good is a cartographer living in San Francisco. He has worked for Lonely Planet, Affordable Travel Press, Art-Sites Press, and The Intrepid Traveler.

My Favorite Thing About Turkey: Up Close and Personal with History

Paris! Anniversary! Wine! Cheese! Until I come back, more guest posts on what other people have to say about their favorite thing about Turkey. Today's post is from Wendi.

Living in Turkey has presented incredible opportunities. It has coupled with it unique challenges. There are many things I wish were different. There are a variety of things I miss about my “home” in the USA. I complain. I reflect. But one thing that I know I will always be able to look back on and be thankful for is the opportunity to see history up close and personal.

In 2010 my husband and I moved to the Adana area of Turkey. We have spent the year that follows attempting to take in as much of the past that this country can offer us. Living in the USA, you can't get more than a few hundred years old. Here in Turkey, a few hundred years old is usually your baseline.

A few highlights:

• Ephesus: In the Roman period, it was the second largest city of the Roman Empire, ranking only behind Rome! Ruins from Ephesus date back to the 1^st century BC. What an opportunity. What history.
• Cappadocia: Can actually be traced back to the 6^th century BC and is located in central Turkey. Cappadocia contains several underground cities used by early Christians as hiding places. The entire region is filled with fairy chimneys and houses were carved from these formations.
• Istanbul: It is hard to believe that I live in a country that boasts a city that served as the capital of the Roman Empire from 330-395. The history of this city dates back to around 660BC.

If you are a Bible reader, you will be amazed at how vividly the pages of the Bible will come alive to you in this country. We were able to see the place that Mary spent the last days of her life. We have been able to run on the shores of the Mediterranean. We have climbed castles that were built before Christopher Columbus ever sailed the ocean blue.

All because we had the great opportunity to spend a few years living in Turkey.

Wendi and her family in Ephesus

About the Author: Wendi and her husband JB have lived in Adana, Turkey since the summer of 2010 with their 2.5 children and dog. A retired English teacher by trade, she has spent the last six years editing and writing from home while taking care of their growing family. You can visit her life at Life in The ...

Totally Loving Aphrodisias

I'm going to back up a bit here and go waaay back to April when Jeff and I took a day trip to Nysa and Aphrodisias. I already wrote about visiting Nysa, but never did get to telling you all about Aphrodisias, so that's what I'm here to do today!

After stopping mid-morning at Nysa, and after surviving a bit of bus trouble, we finally made it to Aphrodisias, the main event of our day trip. As our bus stalled and the engine turned over on the highway, I turned not to panic or stress but to my copy of John Freely's "The Western Shores of Turkey: Discovering the Aegean and Mediterranean Coasts" to prepare myself for what I would see at the ancient city.

Though the earliest evidence of a shrine to an Anatolian fertility goddess at Aphrodisias dates to the fifth or sixth century BC, the city itself wasn't settled until the second century BC. About 100 years later the current Temple of Aphrodite was built. Ephesus is about 2700 years old and Bergama about 2400 years old, but Aphrodisias was in use as recently as 2000 years ago, having only been abandoned in AD 1200, making it remarkably easy to conjure what it must have looked like not so long ago.

But it's not just the city's recent past that makes it so thrilling to see: we owe a great debt and gratitute to the late New York University professor Kenan Erim who began excavations at the site in the 1960s and set up numerous funding schemes and annual archaeological digs to continue his work after he died. Because of him, a staggering amount of Aphrodisias has been uncovered, and what there is to see definitely rivals the ruins at Ephesus.

We inadvertently took the suggestion of our guidebook and proceeded in reverse direction through the city. We hadn't even realized we were doing this until we came across our own group coming from the opposite direction (we chose not to stick with our group as we had difficultly understanding the tour guide -- words like "sanctuary" aren't exactly in my Turkish vocabulary -- and because the excellent signage at the site explained things quite well). If you follow our same route, the first sight you will come across is the monumental gateway to the Sanctuary of Aphrodite.

Amazingly, 85% of the monument's original marble blocks survive, which made it easy -- ok, maybe not easy but easier -- to reassemble the monument to what you see today. It's also a great backdrop for photo opportunities.

 

One aspect of ancient cities that I truly always enjoy seeing are the houses, if they still exist. You almost never see the homes of the lower- or even the middle-classes, but it isn't uncommon to see the remains of a rather rich family's home, as those houses tended to be better built and in more favourable locations, like the city centre, like this one:

Curiously, Aphrodisias was one of the first cities to build itself on a grid system, like the layout of most American cities such as New York and Philadelphia. I personally love the grid system -- some streets go east and west, others go north and south; they all make perfect 90-degree intersections -- and I find them much easier to understand than, say, Istanbul's labyrinth of winding alleys.

In Aphrodisias, most people didn't actually live in the city centre -- hey, like Philly! -- but instead in residential neighborhoods to the north, south, east and west. The house pictured above, though, was actually located on the fringes of the city centre, close to the downtown, and occupies a full city block. It's estimated that the house's two large public rooms -- a formal dining room and a reception room -- were built in AD 400, about 1600 years ago.

Like most other Greco-Roman cities in Turkey, the baths played a huge role in society, not just for hygienic and bathing purposes, of course, but also for its social function.

In the above photo, you can still see the ground-floor walls of the vaulted halls that served as the cold room, hot room, steam room and so on. I can never tell which room was which, so I just go through and make it up. "This here is the sauna, and this is the changing room, and over there were the showers..."

No ancient city would be complete without a theatre, and Aphrodisias's had an estimated seating capacity of about 7000. There are two components to the theatre: the auditorium, seen on the right; and the stage, seen on the left, which used to be three stories high.

As we were walking the opposite direction of our group, we sort of rushed through the site, making the 2-mile circumference in just over an hour. I would definitely like to go back and take a more leisurely stroll through the ruins and perhaps have a picnic lunch at the theatre overlooking the entire city. That sounds like an ideal afternoon, doesn't it?

Practical Info: Admittance to the site was 15 TL when we visited in April 2011, which includes admission to the fantastic on-site museum. Aphrodisias is about 2 hours from Selcuk and about 2.5 hours from Pamukkale. It's somewhat tricky to get to by public transport; we went on a day tour with an Izmir-based company called FMA Travel, but as their website is a bit confusing to follow, it's probably easier to see what tours they have going at Turizm Sayfaları. Check out detailed instructions on how to get to Aphrodisias on Turkey Travel Planner.

Also please note, this blog post does not incorporate information or photos of everything there is to see at Aphrodisias. One that did would be a very long blog post indeed! It merely highlights some of what I thought interesting.

Psst! Wanna write for Turkish Muse? I'm collecting submissions! Tell me in about 300 words or so what your favorite thing about Turkey is and I'll publish it here! Find more info here.