I was awoken that morning in my lodge room by the blast of a ship’s whistle because it sailed by way of Canakkale Strait - the Dardanelles. The city was nonetheless asleep, apart from the bakers who had started work before daybreak and had been already filling crates with oven-hot bread and the newspaper delivery vans. An inter-metropolis coach stuffed with sleepy passengers rumbled its means into the city. After buying some golden, crusty loaves of bread, I drove off. I deliberate to make my means by way of Geyikli to Assos, a distance of ninety two kilometers. Six kilometers past the signpost to Troy, I turned off the principle highway in the direction of Geyikli and Bozcaada. The first village I handed via was Tastepe, adopted by Pinarbasi, Mahmudiye, and Uvecik. Beyond Uvecik, I came to a fountain and stopped for breakfast. I boiled water and made myself a cup of tea. The solely sound was that of dozens of various birds. On the plaster of the simple water fountain, the craftsman had written ‘Kumburun Village Association Fountain 1941’. So for over half a century, this watering-place had been a halt for travelers, wild creatures, and birds.
After leaving Kumburun, I reached Geyikli, where I took the road signposted to Bozcaada island and was quickly at Odunluk Quay on the Aegean, where the ferries leave for Bozcaada. A few fishing craft had been tied up on the pier, on which some anglers have been fishing. Here there are a handful of eating places and cafés, and some guest houses offering lodging in the summer season.
Then he went inside to fetch sweets for his guests. Along the wall of his blue painted house was a row of old tin cans containing a mass of various plants: basil, chili peppers, tomatoes, various colored geraniums, fuschias, and carnations, reworking the pavement into a colorful street garden.
This was the neighborhood of Giritli bordering on Mutareke Square. With its old homes lining the street along the seafront, I was reminded of the Bosphorus. The old part of Mudanya is now an city conservation space, centering round the main streets of Oniki Eylul, Fevzi Pasa and Mustafa Kemal Pasa, and the side streets main off them.
Scattered amongst the houses shaded by nice airplane bushes are old buildings where as soon as olives were stored and processed for oil. This space is an 18th-century church that now houses the Ugur Mumcu Cultural Center.
From Odunluk Quay, I drove on once more, turning off to go to the picturesque fishing village of Dalyan, which has some small fish restaurants dealing with the sea. Here, one hundred fifty meters south of the fishermen shelter, are the ruins of the ancient harbor of Alexandria Troas. The ruins of the city proper are unfold over a wide space two or three kilometers away from the village. Alexandria Troas was based in 310 BC by Alexander the Great’s common Antigonos, who referred to as town Antigonus. Following the dying of Alexander, King Lysimachos of Thrace introduced in settlers from the surrounding area to the town, which he renamed Alexandreia Troas. The city was largely destroyed in a subsequent earthquake, however the stays of the theatre, palace, agora, temple, baths, necropolis, and city walls are nonetheless price seeing.
The theatre and palace lie west of the principle road amidst thick bushes and are virtually unimaginable to search out with out the assistance of a guide. If it had not been for the detailed instructions of Sait, a neighborhood shepherd whom I encountered, I would never have discovered both. Right by the necropolis are the Kestanbol thermal springs. Troy, about 30 kilometers to the north, overshadows the other historic websites of the world, the place the Troy Festival begins through the first week of August and continues for fifteen days every year. The program of live shows and varied different events attracts guests from villages all around. My next cease after Dalyan was the small city of Gulpinar, the traditional Chrysa.
On the way, it's potential to make a detour to the village of Ulukoy, close to which are the ruins of another historical city, Neandreia, courting from the late 8th century BC. In the Bahcelerici district of Gulpinar is the Temple of Apollo Smintheus, the place excavations are continuing underneath Prof. Coskun Ozgunel.
This Ionic style temple in-built a hundred and fifty BC is the only surviving instance of its type in the Troad region of northwest Anatolia. Featuring a double row of blind columns, it's the work of Hermogenes, the architect who set his stamp on the Hellenistic period Anatolian architecture. This region is rich in underground water sources, and in antiquity, it's thought that underground channels provided the town with water.
The cult of Apollo centered round places with an plentiful water supply, since clear spring water was required for Apollo to make prophecies. Neandreia was the regional most essential oracular middle. On the coast, 9 kilometers southwest of Gulpinar is Babakale, Turkey’s most westerly point. Here is the final fort constructed by the Ottomans, in 1723. One of the most well-liked bathing seashores is the bay of Ak Liman, which lies just to the north. The space was infested by pirates in previous centuries and had a nautical tradition.
The sixteenth-century Ottoman seaman and cartographer, Piri Reis, relates in his Book of Navigation that the tomb of a seaman named Peksimetyemez Latif Baba, who was buried in Babakale, was revered by sailors.
Whenever the Ottoman naval fleet sailed previous Babakale, the crews would toss bread into the sea within the direction of the tomb for good luck, a custom which is still followed by native fishermen and people on boating holidays within the area. Now I turned eastwards in the direction of Behramkale, better recognized by its ancient name Assos, my last stop. This journey is full of surprises. You may happen across a spring or harvest competition in one of many villages you move through, or a marriage celebration, lending a striking colour to your travels. Local people will let you know of tourists caught up in such festivities which ended up staying for days in villages that they had had no intention of even stopping at.