We continued our Lycian trek and visited the necropolis at Myra to see the rock tombs that had remnants of red, yellow and green paint on them when Charles Fellows did his explorations here in 1840. Gorgeous now, they must have looked stunning in full and brilliant colour.
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| Myra Lycian tombs |
Myra used to be a small trading port, catering to sea-going traffic around the Mediterranean, and after St Paul was arrested in Jerusalem and sent to Rome for judgement, the boat carrying him there stopped on Anatolian shores here at Myra, in 61AD. Not far from his home town of Tarsus, just down the coast. This was the last time Paul was to see Anatolia, as he was killed in Rome in 67AD.
Myra, today, is called Demre and there are well-preserved Lycian ruins all over town.
It is also famous as the place where St Nicholas spread Christianity.
A basilica church, a low-set many-domed Greek Orthodox, built in his honour by the people of Myra after his death is currently being renovated, for due to his efforts spreading the word, Myra has the reputation for being the first Christian city in history.
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| St Nicholas's basilica |
Nicholas was evidently a kindly man, and frequently gave gifts to the poor, and that has carried through the ages and merged with other legends that enable a fat old amiable man to come to many believer’s homes at Christmas, bearing gifts.
In the basilica garden there is even a statue of St Nicholas, carrying a sack, surrounded by children.
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| St Nicholas |
St Nicholas is a still a big favourite, and is the patron saint of many cities, New York and Moscow included; and so beloved that Nicholas 1, of Russia, once contributed to an earlier restoration of the basilica’s belfry and middle dome.
Fishermen around the coast often dressed their boats with images of St Nicholas to keep their rudders strong and safe, and even today there are many icon centres all over town.
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| Icons of Nicholas kept in the centre |
We camped at Myra down on the waterfront where a lot of boat building and repair is happening. Right on the road way. Workmen have their tools, including their electric ones, under temporary tarpaulins by their boats, by the water. These must be there for many months looking at the state of repair of some of the boats out of the water.
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| Boat building on the road |
Not far from there we found a tarpaulin-covered cafe where two men cooked us up another delicious seafood dinner.
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| Our dinner cafe on the beach |
We thought we might be the only diners, but were soon joined by a man who said he was the chef from one of the boats docked on the wayside for repairs. He sat himself down with us for dinner. And from what we could make out, we think he’d been trained at the Sheraton in Istanbul. Certainly, he knew his way around a kitchen, for when the salad was served, he wanted it dressed in a very specific way, so tootled off into the little makeshift kitchen — he clearly knew the two men there well — and quickly whisked together a chopped garlic, lemon and pomegranate molasses, in a tea cup, then dressed our salad with it.
Eccentric.
Delicious.
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| Salad with special dressing |
We arrived back at our campsite to find the owners had a fire blazing in a wheelbarrow. They were waiting for it to turn to charcoal so they might barbecue dinner. We had to tell them we had eaten. But that, too, would have been fun. Also, in the time we were away they had set up an open sided loggia-style cabana with kilim covered sofas all around, enough for dozens of people. We must have been the first campers of the season, we think.
All this effort for the three of us, plus a couple of fellows in pup tents, from Istanbul, who were walking the famed Lycian way.
So, we enjoyed the comforts offered, and stayed awhile chatting until bed time.
oooOOOooo
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