I decided that yesterday (you see, I am catching up!) would be a day to explore and enjoy what Demre has to offer. But first let me introduce you to the Kent Pension and the Topuz family. I shared my meals with the family; here I am with Aisha and Vesile - Saleh is asleep on the couch. One evening Vesile got the job of juicing the lemons - you can imagine the aroma in the room!
On a tip off from Saleh I approached the ruins of ancient Myra via an area of greenhouses and an orchard, thereby entering the site by the back door. It was interesting to see the amount of reconstruction that is going on, introducing modern supporting structures and replicating stonework to infill what has collapsed and/or is missing. The site is confusing; the one large building that remains more or less intact of a once great city is the amphitheatre. There is a huge quantity of salvaged stones, including many with carving of character masks (pertaining to the theatre) but also beautiful decorative foliage and stylised ornament, such as the "egg and dart" frieze pieces. It is miraculous that these have survived with their detail and subtlety intact.; fortunate perhaps that the region does not suffer winter frosts.
Behind the amphitheatre is a rock face into which tombs have been cut. The practice must have proved popular judging by the jostling for space that is the overall impression. Studying individual tombs one gets clues as to the occupant such as the rather grand one with images of combatants in the pediment - someone of high military rank, perhaps a general? The small tomb to the side intrigued me; was this for his second in command? his wife? his dog?
Heading back into town I had a squint through the broken pane of a glass-house. For a humble vegetable/fruit from the Americas the tomato has risen almost to world domination it seems when such large areas of arable land are devoted to its cultivation. Also widespread around here are citrus orchards, and at this time the scent of orange-blossom lies heavy on the air.
A local hardware store's stock defined some other local agricultural activities, including bee-keeping.
I was on my way to the church of Saint Nicholas. Yes, Father Christmas was a Turk - deal with it! He was the Bishop of the Demre diocese in the 4th century. Noted for his generosity to the poor, to children and to mariners his fame spread, not least by the busy sea trading routes of that era. (Note the crucifix adapted into an anchor) Once canonised the church in his name became a place of pilgrimage, though later looters from Bari in Italy stole his remains and took them there. The church became derelict and suffered a catastrophic flood that buried a large part of Demure in several metres of mud, but excavation work mass revealed much of the original building and many murals and mosaics have been preserved. I was particularly taken with the natural stone mosaics, including some circular ones known as opus sectile.
Thoughth exterior is hardly worth a photo - it is shrouded in protective awnings of steel and corrugated plastic - I like the cool mysterious cloisters and chambers of the interior. I also poked my nose into the workmen's store room - a midden of restoration paraphernalia (and probably parafinalia too!).
Coming soon; Robin walks the Gelidonia Peninsula!
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