After visiting the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus, we left Selçuk behind and began the drive west toward the Aegean. The shift was immediate. For days, the journey had been defined by ruins, ancient cities, and the slow uncovering of history, but now the landscape softened. Vineyards replaced stone, olive groves stretched across rolling hills, and the focus shifted away from the past and toward something more immediate, rooted in the land and in how it is lived today.
Our first stop was at USCA Winery, set among the hills just outside Urla. After the intensity of the archaeological sites, this felt like a reset, less about interpretation and more about presence.
From there, it was a short drive into town, where we checked into Narımor Urla Butik Otel, a place that immediately signalled a slower pace. The hotel has a calm, boutique feel, with a thoughtful balance of traditional Turkish elements and a more modern aesthetic. Our room was bright and spacious, with soft, natural tones and carefully chosen details, and after days of constant movement, it felt like the first place where we could properly pause.
Urla and the Aegean Wine Route
Urla is not just a coastal town; it is part of a quietly emerging wine region that has been gaining recognition in recent years. The Urla Wine Route brings together a collection of small, independent producers, many of whom are focused on low-intervention winemaking and native grape varieties, creating wines that feel distinctly tied to the landscape.
What makes the region particularly interesting is how it blends old and new. Winemaking here dates back thousands of years, to the ancient Ionian cities that once lined this coastline, yet what you see today is a more contemporary revival. Small producers, modern techniques, and a renewed focus on terroir are reshaping the identity of Turkish wine.
Driving through the area, you begin to understand why. The landscape is gentle but varied, with rolling hills, sea air, and fertile soil, all of which contribute to wines that are expressive but balanced. It feels like a place where agriculture, food, and lifestyle are deeply connected, not just for visitors, but as part of everyday life.
After days spent exploring ancient cities, Urla offered something different. Not a place to interpret history, but a place to experience how the region continues to evolve.
A Lively Saturday in Urla
As the evening set in, we headed out into Urla, where the atmosphere was noticeably different from that of the places we had been before. Rather than a single focal point, the town revealed itself through its main streets, busy, lively, and full of people. It was a Saturday, and the energy reflected that. After the quieter rhythm of ruins and smaller towns, it was surprising to find restaurants full, tables packed, and a real sense of life in the air.
We tried a few different places for dinner, only to find each one fully booked, something we hadn’t experienced elsewhere on the trip. It was unexpected, but also reassuring, a reminder that Urla is not just a stop for visitors, but a destination in its own right, particularly for domestic travellers enjoying a weekend away.
Eventually, we found a table at Hiç Lokanta, and it turned out to be one of the highlights of the evening. Set within a former Greek theatre, the space blends an industrial edge with a warm, inviting atmosphere. At the same time, the menu reflects a modern take on Aegean cuisine, centred around local produce and their own olive oil. We kept things simple, ordering an aubergine pide, Urla artichokes, and a local herb salad. Each dish felt grounded in the region, the kind of food where the ingredients speak for themselves, and the artichokes in particular stood out, fresh, delicate, and clearly at their peak.
By the time we left, the streets were still full, and the walk back to the hotel, through warm evening air and a town still buzzing with energy, felt like a natural close to the day.
A Slower Morning
The next morning began at a slower pace, with a breakfast that lived up to expectations. At Narımor, knowing that the hotel is home to a Michelin-starred restaurant, we had expected something special, and it delivered. It was a traditional Turkish breakfast, a generous spread of small dishes, cheeses, olives, jams, eggs, and fresh bread, but elevated in both quality and execution. We sat in the hotel’s light-filled bar area, the space carrying a quiet, understated charm that made it easy to linger, and for the first time on the trip, there was no urgency to move on.
Alaçatı and the Aegean Coast
From Urla, we drove to Alaçatı, stopping first by the beach where we walked along the boardwalk, taking in the open view of the Aegean before heading into town. Alaçatı has a very particular character, windmills rising above the rooftops, narrow cobbled streets, and stone houses softened by greenery and flowers.
For lunch, we stopped at Sota Alaçatı, taking a table just outside along the cobbled street. The meal once again reflected the season, with artichokes appearing yet again, alongside a fresh spring salad, squid, and octopus. The food felt simple but intentional, bright, balanced, and deeply connected to the produce of the region.
Çeşme and the Coastline
From there, we continued to Çeşme Castle, where the coastal character became even more pronounced. Rising just above the harbour, the castle immediately anchors the town, its solid stone walls and towers standing in contrast to the lightness of the sea beyond.
Originally built by the Genoese in the 14th century and later expanded by the Ottomans in the 16th century under Sultan Bayezid II, the castle reflects Çeşme’s long-standing importance as a strategic coastal point. Positioned along key maritime routes across the Aegean, it would have played a role in both trade and defence, watching over a coastline that has always been shaped by movement, exchange, and conflict.
Today, that history feels quieter. From the top, the views stretch out across the port and into the open sea, where fishing boats and small yachts now replace the fleets that once passed through these waters. The town unfolds below, and for a moment, the layers of Çeşme, past and present, feel closely aligned.
After exploring the castle, we walked along the seafront, the pace of the day easing once again. Compared to the inland archaeological sites, Çeşme feels more expansive and open, defined as much by the water as by its history, and offering a different perspective on the region.
An Afternoon Back in Urla
By the afternoon, we returned to Urla, settling back into its slower rhythm. We stopped at Girit Pastanesi 1950, a place we had noticed the night before, full of people of all ages gathering over tea and dessert. This time, we joined them, trying kazandibi, a traditional Turkish milk dessert with a caramelised base, ordering the almond version. It was rich, slightly smoky, and deeply comforting, one of those simple pleasures that feels entirely tied to place.
OD Urla: A Final Meal
That evening, we experienced one of the most memorable meals of the trip at OD Urla. A driver arranged by the restaurant picked us up and took us out of town, along winding roads that gradually opened up to views of olive groves and vineyards. Arriving at the restaurant felt like stepping into a different world, a striking, glass-fronted space set within the landscape, surrounded by gardens that supply much of what appears on the menu. Chef Osman Sezener’s approach is rooted in locality and seasonality, with a strong emphasis on sustainability. Much of the produce is grown on-site or sourced from within a small radius, and the cooking is centred around fire, using a charcoal grill to draw out the natural flavours and textures of each ingredient.
We began the evening with a Haziran Kuzubağ 2022 red wine from nearby Denizli, a choice that immediately grounded the experience in the region. As the meal progressed, it paired beautifully with the dishes, reinforcing the connection between what was on the plate and the landscape surrounding us. We opted for the tasting menu, which unfolded slowly over the evening, each course building on the last. It began with a series of smaller dishes, marinated sea bream, a delicate nettle soup, and two small bites, one of beetroot with cheese, the other smoked fish, each setting the tone for what followed. The dishes felt restrained but precise, allowing the ingredients to take the lead.
As the meal progressed, the flavours deepened. A sea bass tartare with radika and cress was followed by asparagus with free-range egg and pastırma, a dish that balanced richness with freshness. The sea bream that followed was particularly memorable, served with celeriac prepared in two ways, a silky purée and delicate ribbons, alongside a Bornova Misket sauce that tied everything together.
The transition into warmer, more robust dishes felt natural. Shrimp with tarhana and orzo brought comfort and depth, followed by a beef short rib with morel mushrooms, freekeh, and truffle, a dish that leaned more into richness, though by that point, I was already starting to feel full.
These dishes were followed by a parsley sorbet that acted as a brief reset, light, refreshing, and perfectly timed. From there, the meal moved into its richest course, a beef short rib with morel mushrooms, freekeh, and truffle, a dish that leaned more into depth and intensity. I don’t normally eat meat, so I gave this dish to Victor, but he would soon return the favour with dessert.
The meal eased naturally into dessert, beginning with chocolate and berries, before moving to a torched Turkish coffee rice pudding, a familiar flavour reinterpreted with a slightly deeper, more caramelised edge. To finish, a selection of small sweet bites, black mulberry jelly, leblebi, and peanuts brought everything to a close.
What stood out most was not just the quality of the food, but the clarity of the concept. Nothing felt unnecessary or overly complicated. The dishes were confident, grounded, and deeply tied to their place of origin.
A Gentle Ending
The next morning, we took things slowly once again, lingering over another long breakfast before heading to the coast one last time. From there, we drove toward İzmir, stopping in Balçova for a final meal at Özaydın Pide before continuing to the airport.
After days spent moving through ancient cities, tracing layers of history across Western Anatolia, it was here, along the Aegean coast, that everything seemed to settle. Not because the journey was ending, but because it had come full circle. From ruins to living towns, from past to present, the region reveals itself not in a single moment, but in the way these layers exist side by side.
And perhaps that is what stays with you most. Not just what you saw, but how it all connects.
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