Olympos: Secret Garden on the Seaside
80 kilometers south of Antalya, Olympos is nestled in rich, green woods beneath the shadow of the 7000 foot Tahtalı Dağı (Mount Olympos), surrounded by rivers leading into the Mediterranean Sea.
Not much is known about this ancient, coastal city. Believed to have been founded at the beginning of the Hellenistic period, it was an important member of the Lycian League and contributor to trade. It came under Roman rule a few centuries later, after being rescued from pirates. All that remains after two millennia are crumbling, white walls clinging to cliff sides, and faded bones of houses swallowed up in clovers and daisies.
We walked along the seashore towards the city along the cliff sides, where a few tourists were playing in the waves and a local fisherman was preparing his reel for the river.
Approaching Olympos, we were met with large, stone tombs, and the ticket booth (Olympos has an entrance fee of 24 lira per person).
Once inside, dirt paths led us along the riverbanks, where we saw the mossy remains of the city bath house on the left side of the river, and more scattered, white stones in the forest to our right. Following the path, we crossed creeks and ducked under branches to reveal entire complexes of houses and churches.
An ancient church supposedly had mosaic floors, though they were covered by a layer of fallen leaves. The beautiful arched doorways were decorated with faded pink stones lined outwards, like rays of sunshine. The floors of the houses were covered in carpets of greens and lush flowers, like “The Secret Garden” of 300 B.C.. All I wanted to do was don a sundress, throw off my shoes, and run through the flowers amongst the ruins, with the mountains high above and the sea breeze in my hair.
Adventuring deeper into the forest, we ascended a rocky path that led up the side of the mountain. More ruins clung to the steep earth, foliage grappled to the ancient stones. Everyone and everything was holding on for dear life as we cautiously made our way to the top. The higher we went, the more we could see of the valley and the rivers. We headed to the watchtower, where we could see the whole city and its surroundings.
Finally, the trees and towers parted to reveal the sapphire blue Mediterannian, sparkling under the sun. We climbed until we could climb no higher, gazing in wonder at the endless wall of mountains behind us. We stayed up on the cliff a long time, watching travelers that were miles down the shoreline and pointing out details in the ruins below us.
Walking around the city resulted in more introspection that I expected. At first, it was hard to wrap my mind around the age and truth of the city: people not so different from me once lived here, worked here, married here, and died here. The stones broken across the grass looked more like movie props than pillars that once stood tall and proud, supporting the city. Although I knew in my head that men once watched for intruders from the same towers where I was admiring the sea, to actively think about their lives and their existence felt like trying to remember a dream from the night before. I did my best to transport myself mentally to 300 B.C.-- to more clearly see that alleyways between the buildings didn’t look much different from modern-day Antalya.
A friend pointed out the particular markings on a stone that designated it as a door post, through which a child might run to play, or a mother might carry laundry to dry. I peeked through a small window and imagined the sun rising behind the mountains to pour light on the life inside. I walked through the ruins and wondered if anyone would ever walk through the ruins of my city one day, and liken my existence to a dream.
It would have taken us days to fully explore and appreciate every special discovery in the city of Olympos. We regretted leaving, knowing there was still so much left. However, I went away with a strong reminder-- that entire cities are here one moment, and gone the next. The moments we have here and now are beautiful and worth treasuring, and the ruins of the past are worth protecting and remembering.
TO OUR FRIENDS IN THE WEST, KEEP LOOKING EAST!
Maja Thoenes
A girl who grew up a bookworm and blossomed into an outdoor enthusiast, Maja's passions include writing, mountaineering, traveling, running, Netflix-binging, skiing, and baking for her friends. Her education and career has been focused on Japan, where she studied and taught English for three years. Maja is a published author and resides in Colorado with her husband and border collie. You can find her work on Amazon.