After a brief stop at Nysa, we continued west, leaving behind the larger, more monumental sites of the previous days. The roads grew quieter, the landscape softer, and by the time we approached Lake Bafa, the rhythm of the trip had begun to slow.
This part of western Anatolia feels noticeably different. The dramatic ruins give way to a more lived-in landscape of farmland, low mountains, and small villages, where the past is not separated into archaeological sites but scattered across everyday life.
We arrived in Kapıkırı in the late afternoon, reaching Agora Pansiyon just as the light began to soften.
Lake Bafa
Lake Bafa is not just a lake, but the result of a long geological transformation. In antiquity, this was part of the Latmian Gulf, connected to the Aegean Sea and bordered by important port cities like Miletus. Over centuries, sediment carried by the Büyük Menderes River gradually filled the gulf, cutting it off from the sea and creating the lake that exists today.
What remains is a landscape that feels slightly out of time. The water stretches quietly beneath the mountains, dotted with small islands and edged by olive groves and wetlands. Birdlife moves across the surface, and the surrounding hills rise in dramatic formations that feel both ancient and untouched. There is a stillness here that contrasts sharply with the scale and energy of the sites we had just left behind.
A Different Kind of Stay
Agora Pansiyon felt immediately different from anywhere else we had stayed. Nestled among gardens and shaded terraces, with hammocks strung between trees and rooms decorated with kilims and folk details, it had a quiet, unpolished charm that made it easy to settle in.
We were staying in the Agora room, which looked out toward the lake, and after checking in and freshening up, we made our way to dinner. What followed was one of the most memorable meals of the trip, not just for the food, but for how connected it felt to the place itself.
Dinner by the Lake
The meal began simply: olives, their own olive oil, and freshly baked bread, but it quickly became something much more layered. Agora Pansiyon’s restaurant has been recognised with both a Michelin Green Star, which highlights restaurants committed to sustainable gastronomy and local sourcing, and a Bib Gourmand, awarded for high-quality cooking at good value. Sitting there, surrounded by the garden and the quiet of the lake, it was easy to see why.
From the garden menu, we ordered sebze yoğurtlaması, seasonal vegetables roasted in the oven and mixed with garlic yoghurt and cold-pressed Memecik olive oil. The roasting brought out a deep, almost smoky flavour in the vegetables, balanced by the freshness of the yoghurt. We also had the Latmos salad, a mix of greens, tomatoes, cucumbers, dried figs from the nearby mountains, dried tomatoes, pine nuts, and walnuts. It was one of those dishes that feels simple at first but reveals more the longer you eat it.
From the lake, we ordered yılan balığı ızgara, grilled eel, a regional speciality. Slow-cooked over the grill, it was rich, deeply flavourful, and unlike anything we had tried before. Victor chose nohutlu ekşili köfte, a dish of meatballs and chickpeas in a lightly sour tomato-based sauce, where the acidity comes from lemon, sumac, or pomegranate molasses. The contrast between the richness of the eel and the brightness of this dish worked particularly well.
During dinner, one of the brothers who runs the pansiyon came over to speak with us. He was warm, welcoming, and clearly proud of what they had built here. At the end of the meal, he brought out kalburabastı, a traditional dessert made with flour, semolina, and walnuts. By the time we finished, the pace of the place had begun to settle in. Nothing felt rushed, and everything felt intentional.
Into the Latmos Mountains
The next morning, after a comfortable night’s sleep, we set out toward Gölyaka, where our hike would begin. The route into the Latmos Mountains quickly revealed a different side of the region. The rock formations here are striking, large, rounded granite shapes that seem almost sculptural, rising out of the landscape in unexpected ways.
This area has been inhabited for thousands of years, and evidence of prehistoric life can still be found in the form of rock paintings hidden within the mountains. These paintings, some dating back to the Neolithic period, depict human figures, animals, and scenes that suggest ritual or communal life. Though we did not see them directly on this hike, knowing they exist adds another layer to the landscape, a reminder that this has long been a place of meaning and habitation.
The Monastery of the Seven
The trail leads to the Yediler Monastery, also known as the Monastery of the Seven, a Byzantine site built directly into the rock.
The monastery reflects a period when the Latmos Mountains became an important centre for monastic life. Its integration into the landscape is striking, with structures shaped by and embedded within the natural formations.
Inside, faint traces of 13th-century frescoes remain. Though time has worn them down, you can still make out figures and fragments of scenes. There is something powerful about their fragility, not restored or overly curated, but existing as quiet remnants of devotion in a place that still feels remote.
A Long Lunch
After the hike, we returned to Agora Pansiyon for lunch, ready for something simple and satisfying. We had originally planned to order dolma made with grapevine leaves, but when those were not available, they prepared a cabbage version instead. It was a small adjustment, but one that reflected the flexibility and seasonality of the kitchen. Alongside it, we had a seasonal salad of cabbage, apples, and greens, lighter and slightly sharper than the night before.
From the lake, we ordered topan kefal tava, large mullet fried in olive oil without flour, and levrek ızgara, grilled sea bass. Both dishes were understated, allowing the quality of the ingredients to come through.
Ruins Among Daily Life
Later that afternoon, we explored the remains of Herakleia at Latmus, scattered throughout the village. Herakleia was founded in the Hellenistic period, but the landscape it occupies has a much longer history. What is now Lake Bafa was once part of the sea, and the city itself was once positioned along a coastal edge rather than inland.
Walking through Kapıkırı, ancient stone walls appear beside modern homes, fragments of the past woven into daily life. It is not a site you visit so much as one you move through.
Herakleia and the Moon Goddess
The region is deeply tied to mythology. According to legend, this was the land of Endymion, a shepherd who lived in the Latmos Mountains. The moon goddess Selene fell in love with him, visiting him each night as he slept. In some versions of the story, Zeus granted Endymion eternal sleep so that he would remain forever young, allowing Selene to love him without the passage of time.
The stillness of the landscape makes the story feel strangely fitting. There is a quiet, suspended quality here, something that feels unchanged. Not far from the village, we came across the necropolis of Herakleia. The graves were carved directly into the rock, shaped out of the same stone that defines the surrounding landscape. Some were simple, others more structured, but all felt deeply connected to the terrain.
Seeing them up close was striking. It was not just the form of the tombs, but the way they seemed to belong to the land itself.
Evening at the Pansiyon
That evening, we returned once again for dinner. We ordered yoğurtlu şevketibostan, a dish of wild chicory served with garlic yoghurt and olive oil, and the Latmos salad again, unable to resist returning to our favourite dish.
From the lake, we chose smoked eel, something we had seen being prepared earlier in the day. Watching the process made the meal feel even more connected to the place.
Onward
The next morning, after breakfast, it was time to say goodbye to Lake Bafa. After the scale of the previous days, this place had offered something quieter, more grounded, and more connected to daily life. Selene felt like the right presence here, subtle, constant, and tied to the rhythm of the landscape.
As we began the drive west, the mountains gave way to flatter land, and the journey shifted once more. The next stage would take us to the great cities of the Ionian coast, where history would once again take centre stage.
Up next, we continue deeper into ancient Anatolia, with the cities of Didyma, Miletus, and Priene.
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