By the time we reached Pamukkale, the landscape had already begun to shift. After the mountains around Sagalassos and the stillness of the lakes, this felt immediately different, more open, brighter, and more exposed.
We checked into Venus Suite Hotel, where we had a large room on the top floor, a welcome comfort after a full day of driving. That evening, we went out for dinner at Kayas Wine House. At first glance, it looked like one of the more touristy places in town, but inside, the atmosphere felt more local. Groups of Turkish families gathered around televisions to watch football, and the mood was relaxed and lively. The food was simple but satisfying, a mix of meze, small shared dishes, alongside grilled meats and vegetable-based plates.
Unfortunately, the night that followed was far less restful. Somewhere nearby, a dog barked almost continuously. We tried everything, earplugs, turning up the air conditioning for background noise, even attempting to block it out under the pillow, but nothing worked. By morning, we were running on very little sleep.
The original plan had been to start early, but the lack of sleep and the need to change rooms shifted things slightly. The hotel was full, so we had to pack up our bags and leave them at reception before heading out, knowing we would move into a different, slightly smaller room later. It wasn’t the ideal start, but after breakfast, strong coffee, and a couple of ibuprofen, we decided to push on and make the most of the day.
Hierapolis
We entered Hierapolis through the south gate under a clear blue sky, already warm even in the morning. Almost immediately, the wildflowers caught my attention, scattered throughout the ruins. It is one of the reasons I love visiting ancient sites in the spring; the contrast between stone and new growth softens everything.
Hierapolis was built with its natural surroundings in mind. Founded in the late second century BC and later flourishing under Roman rule, it became a major thermal centre where bathing, healing, and ritual were closely connected. The mineral-rich waters flowing from the cliffs above shaped not only the landscape, but the purpose of the city itself. Today, Hierapolis and Pamukkale are recognised together as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, designated in 1988 for their unique combination of natural and cultural history.
We began by walking uphill toward the theatre, its structure rising above the rest of the site. Even from a distance, its scale was clear. Built into the hillside, the Theatre of Hierapolis dominates the landscape, a reminder of how central performance and public life were in Roman cities. Though we didn’t linger long, it set the tone for the site, monumental, exposed, and deeply connected to the terrain.
The Plutonium: Gate to the Underworld
From there, we continued on to the Plutonium of Hierapolis, which quickly became my favourite part of Hierapolis. This was where the figure for the day revealed itself: Hades, the Greek god of the underworld. Known in antiquity as the Ploutonion in Greek and Plutonium in Latin, this site was believed to be a literal entrance to the underworld, a place where the boundary between the living and the dead felt dangerously thin. Ancient writers described it with a sense of awe and fear. The Greek geographer Strabo wrote of a cave filled with such dense vapour that “one can scarcely see the ground,” and that any animal entering would meet instant death.
The cave still emits carbon dioxide gases from deep within the earth, creating a low-lying, invisible layer of toxic air. In antiquity, priests would perform rituals here, demonstrating their divine protection by entering the space unharmed, while animals brought near the opening would collapse almost instantly.
From the steps above, visitors would have watched these ceremonies unfold, part religious spectacle, part proof of the gods’ power. The priests, standing closest to the source, appeared to command death itself.
It wasn’t until modern excavations, led by Italian archaeologist Francesco D’Andria, that the site was fully understood again. His team uncovered the remains of the temple, steps, and pool described in ancient sources, confirming that this was indeed the legendary Pluto’s Gate.
Exploring the South Side of Hierapolis
From the Plutonium of Hierapolis, we continued through the southern part of the site, where the ruins begin to spread out, and the structure of the city becomes easier to read. Nearby stood the Temple of Apollo at Hierapolis, built above a geological fault line that once released the same gases that fed the Plutonium. It was not just a temple, but part of a sacred complex where natural phenomena and religious belief were deeply intertwined. Even without its full structure, its position within the landscape still feels intentional, anchored to the earth in a way that reflects its purpose.
From there, we moved through what remains of the Agora, its open space hinting at what would have once been a lively centre of trade and gathering. Today, only fragments remain, but the scale is still readable, a reminder that this was a functioning city, not just a ceremonial one. As we continued, we passed the remains of a nymphaeum, one of many monumental fountains that once animated the city with flowing water. Like in Sagalassos, water here was both practical and symbolic, a way of shaping the environment while also displaying wealth and engineering.
Further along, traces of a Byzantine basilica appeared, marking yet another shift in the life of the city. What had once been a place of Greco-Roman worship gradually transformed into a centre of early Christianity, layering new meaning onto the same ground. And then, it was time to visit the white travertines.
Walking Through Water and Stone
The travertines of Pamukkale are unlike anything else. Mineral-rich thermal waters flow down from a cliff nearly 200 metres high, depositing layers of calcium carbonate over time and creating a landscape that feels almost sculpted.
Walking here is a physical experience. Shoes have to be removed, and the surface shifts underfoot between smooth mineral deposits and shallow pools of warm water.
We made our way down along the terraces, moving carefully as the textures changed beneath us. The white formations, reflecting the sky, feel almost unreal, especially against the otherwise dry surroundings.
After a while, we stopped for a break and had our packed lunch, tuna and olive sandwiches, along with strawberries we had picked up the day before. It was simple, but exactly what we needed.
The Northern Ruins
After lunch, we made our way back up and across to the northern part of Hierapolis. Here, the scale of the site becomes even more apparent. The remains of the main street stretch out across the plateau, leading toward a larger agora, the northern baths, and eventually the necropolis.
The necropolis extends for over two kilometres, forming one of the most extensive burial grounds of the Greco-Roman world. Walking through it, the repetition of tombs becomes almost rhythmic, a reminder of the city’s role as a place of healing, and ultimately, of death.
The Antique Pool and Museum
We returned toward the centre of the site and stopped for coffee overlooking the Cleopatra Antique Pools. Unfortunately, the pool was closed that day, otherwise we would have taken the chance to swim among the submerged columns.
Instead, we sat with coffee and shared some of the baklava we had picked up earlier, taking a moment to slow down.
At the Hierapolis Archaeology Museum, the focus shifted from landscape to detail. Among the sculptures, one stood out in particular, a statue of Hades with Cerberus, the multi-headed dog that guarded the underworld. After seeing the Plutonium earlier, it felt like a continuation of the same thread, mythology and place reinforcing one another.
By late afternoon, the lack of sleep began to catch up with us. We returned to the hotel, checked into our new room, and took a much-needed nap. That evening, we went to Mehmets Heaven, where the terrace offers a view of the travertines in the distance. The food was simple: grilled meats, vegetables, and meze, but the setting made the experience. As the sun began to set, the terraces softened in colour, blending more naturally into the landscape.
Aphrodisias
The next morning, after breakfast, we left Pamukkale and drove toward Aphrodisias. We decided to explore the site counterclockwise, and almost immediately, something stood out. At Hierapolis, the scale had been impressive, but the experience of understanding it had felt more fragmented. The signage was surprisingly limited for such an important site.
Aphrodisias, by contrast, felt entirely different. The layout was clear, the pathways intuitive, and the signage detailed without being overwhelming. It made it much easier to understand how the city functioned.
This was a city built around beauty. Named after Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, Aphrodisias became one of the most important artistic centres of the Roman world, particularly renowned for its school of sculpture. The abundance of high-quality marble nearby allowed artisans to produce works that were exported across the empire, shaping the visual language of Roman art.
Entering the Sacred Centre
We began near a residential structure before making our way to the Tetrapylon, one of the most striking entrances of any ancient site. With its rows of elaborately carved columns, the Tetrapylon once marked the ceremonial gateway to the sanctuary of Aphrodite. Even in its reconstructed state, it feels theatrical, designed to impress and to prepare visitors for what lies beyond.
From there, we entered the sanctuary itself, where the Temple of Aphrodite once stood.
Originally a pagan temple, it was later converted into a Christian basilica, reflecting the same religious transformation we had seen elsewhere, but here, the architectural adaptation is especially visible. The structure itself tells the story of shifting belief systems.
A Stadium Like No Other
Continuing on, we made our way up to the stadium. And this is where Aphrodisias truly surprised us.
The Stadium of Aphrodisias is considered one of the best-preserved stadiums in the ancient world. Its elongated form, carved into the landscape, still feels complete, with rows of seating stretching out on either side. Standing there, it was easy to imagine the crowds, the events, the energy that once filled the space.
Civic Life and Public Space
From the stadium, we made our way back down into the heart of the city, where its civic life once unfolded. We passed through the Bouleuterion of Aphrodisias, the council house where political decisions were made. With its semi-circular seating still visible, it offered a clear sense of how the city was governed, something we hadn’t seen as distinctly at other sites.
Nearby, the Agora opened up into a broad public space, once the centre of daily activity. Though much of it now lies in fragments, its scale is still apparent, a place where commerce, conversation, and civic life would have intersected.
From there, the city shifted again. We moved toward the baths and the urban park, where the atmosphere felt noticeably different. The Hadrianic Baths of Aphrodisias spoke to the importance of leisure and social life, not just hygiene, but gathering, relaxation, and ritual.
Nearby, the long reflecting pool of the urban park stretched out through the ruins, adding a sense of calm and symmetry to the space. It was one of the most visually striking parts of the site, where architecture, water, and landscape came together in a way that felt carefully designed rather than incidental.
Performance and Spectacle
From the urban park, we continued toward the theatre, set into the slope of the hill and overlooking the city below.
The Theatre of Aphrodisias reflects the city’s connection to performance and culture, something deeply tied to its identity as a centre of art and sculpture. Though smaller than the great theatres of Ephesus or Hierapolis, it feels more intimate, a space designed not just for spectacle, but for refinement.
Standing there, it was easy to imagine performances unfolding against the backdrop of the landscape, another expression of the city’s emphasis on aesthetics and experience.
We completed the loop at the theatre and its adjacent baths before doubling back to find a shaded bench where we could stop for lunch. Afterwards, we continued exploring the site.
The Sebasteion
One of the most significant parts of Aphrodisias is the Sebasteion, a monumental complex dedicated to the imperial cult. Here, relief panels once depicted emperors, gods, and conquered peoples, blending mythology and political propaganda into a single visual narrative.
Unfortunately, the museum, which houses many of these reliefs, was closed during our visit. It was disappointing, especially knowing how important these works are to understanding the site, but in a way, it became part of a broader pattern we noticed throughout the trip: places unexpectedly closed, access uncertain, plans shifting.
Even so, Aphrodisias remained one of the most complete and rewarding sites we visited. Few places make it as easy to understand how art, politics, and religion shaped a city.
On the Road
The drive from Aphrodisias toward Lake Bafa was one of the longer stretches of the trip, so we decided to break it up with a stop at Nysa.
Compared to the larger sites, Nysa felt smaller and quieter, but it still had moments that stood out. The theatre, partially under restoration, was particularly impressive, while the stadium stretched along a natural valley, its scale surprising in contrast to the rest of the site. It was a brief stop, but a worthwhile one.
By the time we left, the rhythm of the trip had shifted again. From mountains to terraces, from the underworld of Hades to the elegance of Aphrodite, each place carried its own atmosphere. As we drove on toward Kapıkırı, the landscape began to change once more.
It’s pretty amazing to see the sites I’ve only read about in books. Have you visited these legendary ancient sites?
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