Turkey’s Turquoise Coast

We flew to Antalya on the southern coast of Turkey, called the Turquoise Coast for good reason, as you will see from the color of the sea in the photos. Again we rented a car with the same iffy company, and again everything worked out fine after making a phone call or two. The man who picked us up asked about my job. He was quite surprised when I told him I am a pastor. I don’t look like a religious man, he said. He went on to explain that his religious men look different than others. And his religious men are all bad, they are liars, he said. He is a Muslim, who believes in Allah and Muhammad, but not in the religious men. I was a little surprised to find someone who was so openly critical of Islam. I asked what he thought about Jesus. Who? Jesus Christ. Huh? I tried “Isa.” Then he understood. Oh, he was a prophet, but Muhammad was the last prophet. We didn’t have the time or the communication to discuss Jesus being far more than a prophet. “In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son” (Hebrews 1:1-2).

Driving our large vehicle (this time a Volkswagen) through rush hour traffic to the apartment was an experience. Finding the apartment was not easy. Finding a place to park was even harder. Thankfully, the owner found us on the streets and helped us locate a place to park. And once we got into the apartment everyone immediately relaxed. Some Airbnb owners have mastered the art of creative photography, making a cramped, drab space look like a picturesque resort. This apartment (after the dark stairwell) surprised us with its huge space. And the windows and balcony leaned out over the main street of the central neighborhood of Antalya. It was lively and bustling.

I went across the street to order food from Pizza Door Pizza. While walking up the street looking for a store to buy some fruit and vegetables a pushy girl grabbed my wrist and sprayed perfume on it. No, that was not going to convince me to make a purchase.

After dinner we walked down the lively street to the peaceful seaside. A waterfall falling into the ocean was picturesque. The whole family sat on a bench, reclining on one another in various angles of repose. It was one of my favorite moments of our trip so far, one of those magic moments when all is well with the world.

Walking through a park afterwards we discovered a set of stairs that took you just below street level to a walkway hugging the rim of a lovely little canyon filled with greenery above the little stream. This little grotto is a hidden jewel in the midst of the city.

The next day we briefly explored the old city, including Hadrian’s Gate, constructed to honor the Emperor’s visit to the city. It was interesting to think, “Here stood the emperor.” The kids enjoyed climbing the spiral pillar more than reflecting on the history of empires.

We drove out to the ruins of the city of Perga, mentioned in the book of Acts (13:13) as the place where John Mark left Paul and Barnabas on their first missionary journey. The next chapter says that Paul and Barnabas preached the word in Perga. Perga was filled with monuments to various gods and nymphs, as was every other Greek and Roman city. The effect of the message about the one God who reconciled the world to himself through his son Jesus is evident in the two basilicas of Perga. Before their construction there would have been many believers meeting in homes and other locations, of course.

The depth of wear you see in this photo of the threshold of the gates give you an idea of how old and how well-traveled were this city’s streets.

The heavenly city, the New Jerusalem, is described in the book of Revelation: “Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city.” A river flowing down the middle of the street? It’s probably in all the commentaries, but I realized for the first time that ancient people already had a reference point for such city planning. Perga’s architects and engineers had built a channel of flowing water into the main street. At its head was a monument to Kestrus, the god of the river, whose (now headless) statue still reclines over the origin of the spring that used to supply the stream. The last chapter of Revelation may be saying, “You know how some cities have a stream of water flowing down the middle of the street? It’s beautiful, isn’t it? In heaven the city of God will have a river flowing through the main street. And this river is the water of life, flowing from the throne of God.”

We explored the ancient baths and admired the columns that used to line the street, providing a nicely shaded area on either side of the street. And we threw the Frisbee just like the Greeks and Romans used to do.

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In the afternoon we picked up my brother at the Antalya airport and drove southwest along the coast to Kas. We were all excited that he was able to come from Cairo to join us for a two-night boat trip from Kas.

The Turquoise Coast By Sea

One of Rebecca’s dreams was the hot air balloon ride. One of my dreams was to sail in the Mediterranean. Sailing is not very common in Turkey, however, so we booked a ride on a traditional Turkish boat, called a gulet. Apart from Rebecca suffering some sea-sickness, the trip was a delight. The captain took us to various coves and islands, where we could swim, snorkel, and kayak as we wished.

We cruised along next to the sunken city of Kekova, ancient home of the Lycians. Investigating the city with snorkeling gear would have been even more fun, but swimming and diving are forbidden in order to preserve the site. We climbed the fortifications of Kalekoy and waded out to an ancient tomb.

The ruins with their ancient inscriptions (whose Greek I can sometimes manage to piece together) reminded me of a scene in Tolkien’s Fellowship of the Ring. Frodo and his company, including representatives of all the races of Middle Earth, are paddling down the river Anduin. Coming around a bend they see the ancient, long-abandoned statues of kings standing guard to the realm of Gondor. Tolkien scaled up the mythology for his books and Peter Jackson scaled them up even more for his films, but you get the idea. We are in places where kings once reigned, where heroes once battled. Whether they were kind, generous, and good, or whether they were tyrants the world is glad to leave behind, I don’t know.

Returning to my thoughts about Perga and the New Jerusalem for a moment, the vision of the heavenly city somehow seems ancient at the same time as new. Walls of jasper, gates of pearl, foundations of precious stones, streets of gold, with the river of life flowing down the middle – its beauty in architecture, craftsmanship, precious materials, and plant life seem to say that all history is included (and purified) in this future city. Indeed, “the kings of the earth will bring their splendor into it..the glory and honor of the nations will be brought into it” (Revelation 21:4, 6). But “nothing impure will ever enter it” (21:7). We long for that city.

On the boat, everyone exclaimed how wonderful the food tasted. The captain and his wife cooked better meals than we ate in any restaurant in Turkey. Green beans, bulgur, fresh caught seabass, chicken kebab – it was splendid. Trying seagrass that he had harvested from the local islands was especially interesting. Afternoon teatime was a nice touch as well.

“Yukazama!” shouted the captain’s son every time he jumped off the boat.

I’m pretty sure that the literal translation of “yukazama” is “cowabunga.”

My brother said at the end of the trip, “I could live on a boat.” As much as I enjoyed the swimming, snorkeling, and kayaking, I thought two days was about enough. I would still like to go out on a sailboat though…

The day we got off the boat we drove down to Kaputas beach, recommended by the young Turks we met in Cappadocia. The water and the waves were great, but the fact that this is one of Turkey’s best beaches testifies to the ruggedness of the Turkish coast. Besides tiny pockets of pebbly sand like this, the shoreline consists of rocks as sharp as knives. Trees, birds, and wildlife are rare. After enjoying the water for a few hours, we walked up the little slot canyon that has formed this little beach. The still, quiet walls soon formed an impassable wall in front of us.

On the way down I encouraged my kids to do something that may or may not make me a good father. Not only did I let them slide down this ramp, I poured water on it. I won’t say whether it was dangerous or not, but I will say that they had fun!

And this, my friends, brings us to the end of our Exploration in Turkey and to the beginning of our Contemplation in Albania, another place of great beauty.