The Stork Highway of Ancient Rome

Walking through Selçuk’s streets during the ongoing heat wave, we couldn’t help but notice the most unusual sight: massive white storks perched confidently atop Roman aqueduct ruins and modern utility poles alike. These aren’t just random visitors – they’re part of an annual migration pattern that has turned this historic town into Turkey’s unofficial stork capital.

Every March, storks return to Selçuk from their winter homes in sub-Saharan Africa. The storks choose the highest points available for their nests, including the remnants of Byzantine aqueducts that once supplied water to ancient Ephesus. Local authorities have even installed special platforms on utility poles to prevent the birds from electrocution while preserving their traditional nesting sites.

Mysteries of the Multi-Breasted Goddess

Our visit to the Ephesus Museum revealed one of archaeology’s most debated artifacts: a towering statue covered in what appears to be dozens of breasts. This is the famous Artemis of Ephesus, but those protuberances might not be what they seem.

The 292-centimetre-tall statue actually represents a fascinating scholarly controversy. While traditionally interpreted as multiple breasts symbolizing fertility, many experts now believe these oval objects are bull testicles, hung as offerings during sacrificial ceremonies. Some scholars even suggest they could be bee larvae, as bees were sacred to Artemis. What makes this debate particularly intriguing is that none of the “breasts” have nipples – a detail that ancient sculptors, masters of human anatomy, would hardly have overlooked.

This statue likely stood in the Temple of Artemis, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, making it a tangible connection to one of antiquity’s most celebrated structures. The temple’s destruction by 401 CE means this museum piece represents our closest link to understanding how the ancient world venerated this powerful goddess.

Where Emperors Built Upon Apostles

The ruins of the Basilica of Saint John dominate Ayasoluk Hill, their weathered stones telling a story of imperial ambition, religious devotion, and inevitable decay. Emperor Justinian I commissioned this massive structure between 548 and 565 CE, designing it as both a pilgrimage destination and a worthy monument to house the tomb of John the Apostle.

The basilica measured 428 by 213 feet, making it potentially the seventh-largest church in the world if reconstructed today. Justinian modeled it after the Church of the Holy Apostles in Constantinople, creating a cruciform structure crowned with six domes. The builders incorporated materials from the nearby Temple of Artemis and other Ephesian ruins, recycling ancient marble and stones into Christian architecture.

The basilica’s decline began with Arab raids in the 7th and 8th centuries, which forced the construction of defensive walls around the structure. By 1304, invading Seljuk Turks converted part of the building into a mosque, and in 1402, Tamerlane’s Mongol army destroyed it during their invasion. Earthquakes in the 1360s completed the devastation, leaving the impressive ruins we see today.

A Castle Built on Sacred Ground

Crowning Ayasoluk Hill above the basilica ruins stands a fortress that represents the practical realities of medieval defense. The Ayasoluk Castle, built during the Byzantine era around the 6th century CE, incorporates stones from dismantled Roman buildings, including materials from Ephesian structures.

The castle’s strategic position made it valuable to successive rulers. Seljuk Turks expanded it after conquering the area in 1090, and Ottoman forces later added their own modifications. The fortress enclosed fifteen towers connected by 1.5 kilometres of walls, protecting a small community that included a mosque, cisterns, baths, and residential quarters.

What makes this castle particularly fascinating is its relationship with the basilica below. Rather than destroying the Christian site, medieval builders incorporated it into their defensive strategy, using the basilica’s walls as part of the lower fortress complex. This created unique architecture where Islamic military architecture literally rests upon Christian sacred space.

Divine Intervention at the Neighbourhood Mosque

Our exploration of Selçuk’s religious landscape led us to the İsa Bey Mosque, a remarkable example of 14th-century Anatolian architecture. Built between 1374-75 by Syrian architect Ali ibn el-Dimişki, this mosque demonstrates the transitional period between Seljuk and Ottoman architectural styles.

The mosque’s segregated prayer areas for women represent traditional Islamic practice, though such arrangements can appear restrictive to visitors from different cultural backgrounds. These architectural divisions reflect religious interpretations that prioritize modesty and separate worship spaces, practices that have shaped Islamic religious architecture for centuries.

During our visit, we discovered that the mosque offers free Quran copies to interested visitors – a practice that connects contemporary Islamic outreach with the site’s long history as a religious centre. While there, we met a local man who was especially eager to talk to us about Islam. He explained that he hadn’t actually planned to visit the mosque at that time; he was on his way to complete some errands, but on a whim decided to stop by and pick up a Quran for a friend. Instead, he ran into us and was convinced that our meeting was no coincidence, telling us he believed it was divine intervention.

Our conversation quickly turned philosophical. He earnestly shared his belief that the Quran contains the answers to every question in life, presenting it as the ultimate guide to truth. At one point, he shared a rather striking perspective: he said that people who believe in God are the highest tier of lifeforms, followed by animals, with people who don’t believe, especially those who “act like they are their own god”, ranking below animals. I couldn’t help but laugh internally, realizing that by his definition I must be beneath the neighborhood cats lounging in the sun! He meant no offense, his words were offered with sincerity and a desire to share his worldview. Still, I got the impression he didn’t realize we weren’t religious ourselves, or how his ranking might sound to an outsider.

Echoes of the Population Exchange

Our journey to Şirince village, perched on a hillside 8 kilometres from Selçuk, revealed one of Turkey’s most poignant historical legacies. This mountaintop settlement, originally called Çirkince (meaning “ugly” in Turkish), was supposedly named by its Greek founders to deter other settlers from discovering their mountain paradise.

The village prospered under its Greek Orthodox Christian population, who spoke primarily Turkish despite their religious identity. By 1908-09, over 1,000 houses sheltered Greek families who cultivated vines, tobacco, figs, and olives while maintaining their distinct cultural traditions.

The 1923 Population Exchange between Greece and Turkey devastated Şirince’s established community. This compulsory transfer, formalized in the Convention Concerning the Exchange of Greek and Turkish Populations, displaced approximately 1.6 million people based solely on religious affiliation. Greek Orthodox Christians from Turkish territories moved to Greece, while Muslims from Greece relocated to Turkey. The abandoned houses we encountered represent this traumatic displacement.

The Grandeur and Complexity of Ancient Ephesus

The archaeological site of Ephesus, directly connected to modern Selçuk, represents one of the Mediterranean’s most significant Roman cities. As we walked among its ruins during the intensifying heat wave, the scale and sophistication of this ancient metropolis became immediately apparent. A local restaurant owner’s joke about Efes beer – suggesting we walk a few kilometres toward ancient Ephesus since “Efes” is simply the Turkish name for the ancient city – highlighted how thoroughly this archaeological site integrates with the culture. The beer’s naming represents a modern commercial connection to ancient prestige.

The Temple of Artemis ruins, reduced now to a single reconstructed column, still commanded respect as the remains of one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. Though little survives of this massive structure, which once measured 137 metres long and featured 127 columns each standing 18 metres high, the site’s significance resonates across millennia.

Ephesus declined through a combination of geographical and political factors. The Küçük Menderes River gradually silted up the harbour, cutting the city’s vital connection to maritime trade routes. Natural disasters, including a devastating earthquake in 614 CE, damaged infrastructure repeatedly. The rise of Christianity displaced traditional pagan worship, while Gothic invasions in 262 CE destroyed much of the city, including the Temple of Artemis.

I was captivated by how Ephesus’s grandeur was engineered. The ancients combined brute force and technical innovation. Iron pins and lead clamps held massive marble slabs together, damping seismic shocks and locking the city’s great structures in place (though unlikely they knew how well that method would stand up to an actual earthquake).

Workers used wooden cranes, pulleys, and earth ramps to raise monolithic columns, guiding tonnes of stone into precise positions.

We realized that knowing Latin wouldn’t have helped us decipher most Ephesian inscriptions. The city’s later inscriptions switched entirely to Greek, the region’s lingua franca after Alexander the Great’s conquest. An odd feeling – usually we lament not knowing Latin, but this time, it wouldn’t have helped at all. Amid these weighty ruins, we saw samples of the ichthys fish symbol (colloquially known as the Jesus fish symbol), scratched into ancient stones, symbolizing early Christianity. In Greek, it’s written as ΙΧΘΥΣ, and is sometimes seen abbreviated using a symbol resembling a pizza cut into eight slices.

The Temple That Bridged Empires

Among Ephesus’s countless architectural treasures, the Temple of Hadrian stands as a masterpiece of cultural synthesis. This elegantly proportioned structure, built around 117 CE, demonstrates how Roman architects embraced and transformed Eastern design traditions through its distinctive Syrian arch.

The temple’s facade tells multiple stories through stone. Tyche, goddess of city fortune, crowns the keystone wearing walls as her crown, symbolizing her protection over Ephesian prosperity. Above the inner doorway, a relief of Medusa emerges from acanthus leaves, not the terrifying monster of myth, but a protective figure surrounded by the Mediterranean vegetation that inspired Corinthian column designs.

Roman Domestic Life Preserved in Paint

The Terrace Houses of Ephesus shattered our expectations of ancient Roman domestic architecture. These luxury residences, inhabited by wealthy families from the 1st to 7th centuries CE, revealed that Roman homes were far more colourful and sophisticated than typical stone ruins suggest.

The houses featured extensive frescoed walls with floral motifs, geometric patterns, and figurative scenes painted directly onto plaster surfaces. Archaeologists have carefully restored many of these paintings, revealing the artistic sophistication of domestic Roman decoration. The mosaic floors display intricate geometric and figural designs, demonstrating the high level of craftsmanship available to Ephesian elite. These restorations represent authentic ancient artwork, not modern interpretations.

The houses incorporated sophisticated engineering, including hypocaust heating systems that circulated warm air beneath floors and within walls, and plumbing that provided both hot and cold running water. These amenities matched those available in Roman public baths, demonstrating the luxury standards of Ephesian wealthy families.

The Library That Conquered Death

The Library of Celsus stands as Ephesus’s most iconic structure, and deservedly so. This magnificent building, constructed between 110-135 CE, served the dual purpose of housing scrolls and honouring the dead. Tiberius Julius Aquila commissioned the library as a memorial to his father, Tiberius Julius Celsus Polemaeanus, who had served as Roman consul and proconsul of Asia. The building functioned as both a repository of knowledge, holding approximately 12,000 scrolls, and as Celsus’s mausoleum – his marble sarcophagus rests in a crypt beneath the building.

Fire destroyed the library’s interior around 262 CE, though the façade survived until earthquakes brought it down in the 10th or 11th century. Austrian archaeologists reconstructed the façade between 1970 and 1978, creating the impressive sight that draws crowds today for both daytime visits and evening light shows.

As we left, we saw people lined up for hundreds of meters lining up to see the evening light show – many of them coming in from cruise ships.

See more images from Selçuk and Ancient Ephesus

Troy: Where Legend Meets Archaeological Reality

Standing before the ancient walls of Troy, we grappled with questions that have fascinated scholars and visitors for centuries.

Troy, designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1998, sits on the mound of Hisarlık in northwestern Turkey, approximately 4.8 kilometres from the Dardanelles. This ancient city served as a crucial bridge between Anatolia and the Mediterranean world for over 4,000 years.

The Oral Tradition Question

One of the most intriguing aspects we discovered was the relationship between Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey and historical fact. These epic poems weren’t initially written documents but rather oral traditions passed down through generations of travelling bards called aoidoi. Archaeological evidence suggests these stories (like the story of the Trojan Horse) were orally composed and performed, likely accompanied by a lyre, sometime in the 8th century BCE before being transcribed.

The poems contain significant embellishment, they’re not non-fiction in the modern sense, but rather traditional tales that wove together historical events, cultural memories, and mythological elements. Modern scholars believe these oral traditions preserved genuine Bronze Age details, including descriptions of weapons, architectural features, and place names that had disappeared by Homer’s time.

The Trojan Horse: Myth or Memory?

While no direct archaeological evidence proves the existence of a wooden horse, the story likely preserves memories of actual siege tactics. Ancient armies did use various deception strategies, and the horse story may represent a folk memory of how Troy ultimately fell, whether through trickery, betrayal, or siege engineering.

The Nine Layers of Time

Troy’s archaeological complexity becomes apparent when examining its nine distinct settlement layers, designated Troy I through IX. Each represents a different period of occupation spanning over 4,000 years, from around 3600 BCE to 500 CE. These layers weren’t built simultaneously but rather represent successive cities constructed atop their predecessors’ ruins.

Troy I, the earliest settlement (3000-2550 BCE), featured massive limestone fortifications. Troy II (2500-2300 BCE) showed remarkable wealth and sophisticated urban planning. Troy VI (1750-1300 BCE) and Troy VIIa (1300-1180 BCE) correspond most closely to the period when the legendary Trojan War would have occurred, showing evidence of violent destruction that aligns with Homer’s narrative.

Construction Mysteries Revealed

The ancient builders demonstrated remarkable engineering skills. They chiselled limestone blocks using bronze tools and wooden wedges, creating walls that incorporated a distinctive “sawtooth” pattern common in Mycenaean architecture. The fortifications reached heights of over 9 metres, with wooden and mudbrick superstructures atop limestone foundations.

Regarding lead pipes, archaeological evidence suggests lead was indeed used in joints and connections of water systems, though the full extent of its use in Troy’s infrastructure remains under investigation. The builders had access to advanced metallurgy, including bronze working and sophisticated water management systems.

Environmental Changes Over Time

Troy’s decline wasn’t solely due to warfare. The ancient city’s strategic position near water sources gradually changed due to natural sedimentation. The coastline shifted over millennia, and what was once a major harbour became landlocked. Climate changes and the silting up of waterways contributed to the city’s eventual abandonment as a major trade centre. The land where the water used to be is now farmland.

We found seashells embedded in the excavated soil, evidence of Troy’s ancient connection to the sea and the geological processes that have reshaped this landscape over thousands of years.

The Troy Museum Experience

Our visit to the recently opened Troy Museum in nearby Tevfikiye village provided essential context for understanding the archaeological site. Tevfikiye, a small village in Çanakkale Province, houses this award-winning museum that opened in 2018 and contains over 2,000 artifacts spanning Troy’s entire history. The striking cube-shaped building, clad in weathering steel, was designed to echo the archaeological excavation process, its height matches the depth of Troy’s excavation layers.

The museum’s interactive displays helped us visualize how the ancient city would have appeared at its height, complete with digital reconstructions of the citadel and lower town. Particularly impressive was the replica of Schliemann’s famous “Treasure of Priam,” the original of which remains in Moscow’s Pushkin Museum.

Ayvalik: A Minor Stop with Major Impact

After the history lesson at Troy, Ayvalik served as a more relaxed interlude in our journey. We made a visit to çöp(m)adam, a social enterprise that demonstrates how traditional communities can embrace innovative solutions to modern challenges. The name itself contains a clever Turkish pun: “çöp” means “garbage” or “trash” in Turkish, while “madam” adopts the French word for “female.” Together, “çöp(m)adam” literally translates to “garbage ladies”, a playful yet meaningful reference to the project’s mission of transforming waste into fashionable accessories.

Founded by American social entrepreneur Tara Chantal Hopkins, çöp(m)adam addresses women’s employment challenges in a country where female workforce participation historically faced cultural barriers. The project employs local women who create unique handbags, accessories, and home goods from recycled materials, including fabric waste from local manufacturers. It provides women with their first salaried employment opportunities, enabling financial independence in a traditionally male-dominated economic environment.

See more photos of Troy here

First Impressions of a Continental Bridge

The journey to Istanbul had begun with a business class flight, featuring a surprisingly excellent grilled duck leg – tender, juicy, and far exceeding expectations for airline cuisine. The connection through Madrid provided time to relax in the lounge before boarding Turkish Airlines for the final leg.

Turkish Airlines, the country’s flag carrier, serves traditional Turkish mezze platters on international flights, featuring selections like ezme (spicy tomato paste), muhammara (red pepper and walnut dip), and various cheese preparations. The cold appetizer service, while authentically Turkish, presents flavours that challenged my unaccustomed palates with their intensity and unique spice combinations.

Our first night’s accommodation was a newly constructed hotel that showcased both the promise and pitfalls of Istanbul’s rapidly expanding tourism infrastructure. While the breakfast buffet displayed beautiful presentation, the protein selection was limited. One memorable detail was the availability of purple olives, which are actually black olives that have been treated with a natural fermentation process, giving them their distinctive colour and slightly different flavour profile. The newly opened hotel gleamed with modern finishes, yet a closer look revealed shortcuts beneath the polish: water from the sink’s U-trap had a slow drip, hinting at rushed plumbing work.

Walking Through Conquest

In the morning, we met a subset of our group tour that also signed up for this optional walking tour. It began at the Gate of Charisius of the Theodosian Walls, the massive fortification system that protected Constantinople for over 1,000 years until Ottoman Sultan Mehmed II finally breached them in 1453. These walls, built in the 5th century, stretched for 12 miles and featured double lines of defence with towers and gates. The conquest of Constantinople marked the end of the Byzantine Empire and the beginning of Ottoman rule over this strategic city.

Our guide also shared a local idiom about fig trees, explaining that calling a “fig tree” appears complimentary but actually suggests they ruin everything around them – much like how fig trees’ aggressive root systems can damage foundations and infrastructure.

Mihrimah Sultan Mosque

We visited the Mihrimah Sultan Mosque, designed by the master architect Mimar Sinan in the 16th century. This mosque, one of two built for Sultan Süleyman’s daughter, demonstrates the sophisticated engineering and spiritual symbolism of Ottoman architecture.

Mosque architecture reflects Islamic principles and practical needs. The mihrab (prayer niche) always faces Mecca, orienting worshippers toward the holy city. The minbar (pulpit) stands to the right of the mihrab, while the main prayer hall remains free of furniture to accommodate prostration. The qibla wall (facing Mecca) receives the most decorative attention, often featuring intricate calligraphy and geometric patterns.

The building process showcased the ritual of wudu (ablution), which Muslims perform before prayer. The wudu process follows specific steps: first, practitioners state their intention and say “Bismillah” (in the name of Allah). They then wash their hands three times, rinse their mouth three times, cleanse their nostrils three times, wash their face three times, wash their arms up to the elbows three times, wipe their head once, clean their ears, and finally wash their feet up to the ankles three times. This purification ritual prepares both body and mind for prayer.

Church of St. Mary of the Spring

The Church of St. Mary of the Spring, known as Zoödochos Pege, represents a significant Orthodox Christian site. Emperor Justinian I built the original church here in the 6th century. The current structure dates to 1835, rebuilt after Ottoman forces destroyed the Byzantine-era building.

The church’s Byzantine art reflects the Eastern Orthodox tradition that survived the Iconoclastic periods of the 8th and 9th centuries. These paintings, featuring saints and angels with golden halos, represent the triumph of iconophiles (image-lovers) over iconoclasts (image-breakers). The artwork employs traditional Byzantine techniques, using gold leaf backgrounds to suggest divine light and eternal glory.

The holy spring beneath the church has attracted pilgrims for 1,500 years. Orthodox Christians believe the water possesses healing properties, and the site remains active for religious ceremonies.

Culinary Discoveries

Our lunch featured a carefully curated selection of Turkish dishes, including pide, often called “Turkish pizza” but more accurately described as boat-shaped flatbread topped with various ingredients. Traditional pide dough contains flour, yeast, water, salt, and sometimes yogurt or olive oil. The boat shape is formed by folding the edges, creating a rim that holds ingredients like minced meat, cheese, or vegetables seasoned with Turkish spices such as cumin, paprika, and parsley.

The meal also included various mezze spreads, including hummus and spicier preparations, along with vegetables cooked in clay pots – a traditional method that infuses food with earthy flavours while retaining moisture and nutrients.

The Art of Turkish Coffee

Turkish coffee preparation represents a centuries-old tradition that UNESCO recognized as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. The process begins with finely ground coffee beans, ground to a powder-like consistency much finer than regular coffee. The coffee is brewed in a cezve (a small, long-handled pot traditionally made of copper) with cold water and sugar if desired.

The brewing process requires patience and attention. The cezve is heated slowly over medium heat, allowing the coffee to warm gradually. As it heats, dark foam begins to form. The key moment arrives when the coffee approaches a boil – the foam is carefully distributed among the cups before the coffee itself is poured. This foam is considered essential to proper Turkish coffee service.

The resulting coffee has an earthy, intense flavour that can surprise newcomers. The grounds settle at the bottom of the cup, and the coffee is never stirred once served. The texture is notably different from filtered coffee, with a slightly grainy consistency that reflects the traditional preparation method. This coffee culture extends beyond mere consumption – it plays a role in social rituals, including traditional marriage customs where the bride-to-be serves coffee to the groom’s family.

Living History in Modern Times

Our exploration revealed parts of town where residents have built apartments directly on top of the old city walls that once surrounded Constantinople. These informal settlements demonstrate how Istanbul’s residents have adapted historic structures for modern needs.

Cruising the Continental Divide

The Bosphorus cruise provided perspectives on Istanbul’s architectural evolution across different periods and empires. This narrow strait, connecting the Black Sea to the Mediterranean, serves as the boundary between Europe and Asia, making Istanbul the only city spanning two continents.

As the ferry glided along the strait, we caught sight of Hagia Sophia and the Topkapi Palace (which I will get into in a later post).

Historic yalı (waterfront mansions) line the shores, representing the Ottoman elite’s summer residences. These wooden structures, many dating to the 18th and 19th centuries. People still live in these houses today, and for a time, they could lounge on their patio overlooking the river, but not many more due to the tourist traffic.

We observed the Ortaköy Mosque, a 19th-century gem celebrated for its ornate baroque revival design, delicate stonework, and prominent twin minarets.

The cruise also revealed the Rumeli Fortress, constructed in just four months in 1452 by Sultan Mehmed II as part of his conquest preparations. This fortress, along with the Anadolu Fortress on the Asian side, allowed the Ottomans to control Bosphorus traffic and cut off Byzantine supply lines.

From the water, we observed the Dolmabahçe Palace, a 19th-century Ottoman palace that served as the empire’s administrative center during its final decades.

The Spice Route’s Istanbul Hub

The Spice Bazaar, built in 1664 as part of the New Mosque complex, served as a crucial link in the global spice trade. Historically called the Egyptian Bazaar because it was funded by revenues from Egypt, the market connected Asian spice producers with European consumers.

Turkey’s position along historic trade routes gave it access to spices from across Asia, but the country also produces distinctive spices that reflect its unique climate and culinary traditions. Turkish red pepper flakes (pul biber) vary in heat levels and include smoky varieties like isot biber from Şanlıurfa. Sumac, made from berries of the Rhus coriaria bush, provides a citrusy tartness that’s become essential to Turkish cuisine. Turkish spice culture developed over centuries of trade and cultural exchange. The Ottoman Empire’s vast territory allowed for the cultivation and trade of numerous spices, while the empire’s diverse population contributed different culinary traditions. This history explains why Istanbul’s spice markets offer such variety and why Turkish cuisine incorporates flavours from across the Mediterranean, Middle East, and Central Asia.

The spice market today caters heavily to tourists, a far cry from what it used to be, with vendors selling everything from traditional spices to novelty items like “Turkish Viagra tea” (likely a blend of herbs with no proven medicinal properties). However, authentic spice shops still operate here.

An Unexpected Group Dynamic

That evening, we met with the rest of the tour group. Our group gathered around a street-side table in Istanbul, waiting for our eighth and final member who had been delayed. Our group had clicked immediately, and someone joked that the missing traveller might be the odd one out. At that moment, a man walked past our table with a distinctly sour expression. We called out the missing member’s name as a joke, not expecting it to actually be him – but it was!

His taxi driver had taken him on an expensive detour around the city (taxi drivers across Istanbul are notorious for being scammers), explaining his mood. Once he joined our table and shared his story, his demeanour shifted completely. Later that evening, several of us continued to a rooftop bar, where conversations flowed as easily as the drinks. Istanbul’s Sultanahmet district, where we stayed, contains numerous hotels with rooftop terraces offering views of the city’s distinctive silhouette of domes and minarets.

Our group of eight travelled around the country in a van, staying in budget hotels and exploring destinations that attracted a younger backpacker crowd. The tour format allowed for spontaneous discoveries and shared experiences that individual travel might have missed, as more posts will soon show.

See here for more images of Istanbul