Antalya

My wife and daughter had already been to Antalya, and our five-year-old wanted to go back. Her idea of a perfect vacation is straightforward: beach, sea, repeat. My wife and I, meanwhile, would usually choose exploring over another day on a sunbed.

We wanted the trip to work for her, so we planned it mostly around beach time—but not entirely. We also wanted to introduce her, very gently, to the kind of activities we enjoy and, hopefully, get her interested in them.

So, here we go: Antalya’s old town, Göynük canyon, the ancient ruins of Phaselis, and the Tünektepe trail. The last bit was rough but AMAZING. Let’s get to it.

Kaleiçi

Kaleiçi is Antalya’s old town, built around a small natural harbor that has been used since Hellenistic times. It was our first outing of the trip—something of a warm-up before we attempted anything more ambitious with our daughter.

We arrived shortly before sunset and started at the viewpoint next to the elevator overlooking the marina. From there, the entire harbor is laid out below: old walls wrapped around the water and ships packed tightly along the piers. We took the elevator down and walked around to the other side.

On the far side of the marina, the view opens toward the Mediterranean and the mountains along the coast. Great sunset spot!

And then there were cats. This is Turkey, you know. A few of the local professionals were kind enough to pose for portraits.

Once it got dark, we went back up into the old town, and Kaleiçi changed its mood completely. The narrow alleys were lined with small restaurants and cafés, with garlands and colorful lamps overhead. We also passed Hadrian’s Gate, which is almost two thousand years old.

Göynük Canyon

Göynük canyon is about 36 kilometers southwest of Antalya’s city center, just north of Kemer. It’s a light hike and a pretty good starter route: the path is easy—around five kilometers there and back. Cars also shuttle visitors in both directions, so walking the full distance is optional.

At the upper end, the trail reaches the narrow part of the canyon. That’s where the paid activities start: boat tours, body rafting, and a zipline.

One frustrating thing about restricted-entry parks around Antalya is their working hours. They tend to open around 9 AM and close around 6 PM, which leaves no chance to catch soft morning or evening light. Fine for a family outing; terrible for photography.

When we visited, the entrance fee was 250 TRY (≈$5) per adult and free for kids. The boat ride cost another 1,650 TRY (≈$34) per person. Even in the morning, the upper area was already crowded, and the line for the boat took around an hour. By the time we were leaving, a much larger wave of tourists was coming in.

Overall, it worked well as a first hiking experience for a kid: manageable distance and fun activities at the end. Without that purpose, though, I wouldn’t go there specifically.

Phaselis

Phaselis was an ancient port city founded in the seventh century BC around three natural harbors. Sea trade was basically the reason it existed; for a long time, it was the busiest port in eastern Lycia.

The city is about 20 kilometers farther south along the coast than Göynük Canyon. When we arrived around opening time, we found a long line of cars at the entrance. At first, we assumed everyone had come early to see the ruins. Nope. Turned out, most of them were locals heading to one of several beaches around Phaselis.

The main ruins are fairly compact. Most sit around the main street, with a theater, baths, agoras, and an aqueduct nearby. Around an hour is enough to see the highlights without rushing.

Past the main street, there’s a large and crowded beach on the right. Walk a little farther, though, and you’ll find a quieter corner on the left with a nice open view. But as I was leaving, the beach crowd had already started moving into that corner.

Tünektepe

Tünektepe is a 618-meter hill overlooking Antalya. Until 2024, visitors could reach the summit by cable car. Then, on April 12, one of its support poles collapsed and hit a cabin, killing one person, injuring seven, and leaving 174 more trapped in the air for almost a day. The cable car has been closed ever since.

Officially, the road and all trails to the summit are closed as well. However, Tünektepe is still a hiking destination. People keep going up on foot.

Initially, we considered going together. But after a closer look, we agreed it wasn’t suitable for a five-year-old, so I went alone. Spoiler: that was a good call. This trail is not for a five-year-old AT ALL.

Going up in the dark to catch the sunrise was off the table: I’d be hiking alone on an unfamiliar route. The plan was to start during the day and reach the top for the evening golden hour. The obvious downside was doing the whole climb under the August sun.

Water, electrolytes, some carbs, something salty. Packed and ready.

And this is where it begins.

The trail doesn’t ease you in with a warm-up stroll. It punches you in the gut with a solid incline right from the start. And to be honest, 10+ kg on my shoulders under Antalya’s August sun hit hard. After the first couple of steep sections, the thought of turning back started creeping in.

I have one trick for whenever I start struggling on a hike: I go into what I call donkey mode.

In donkey mode, I stop checking my progress or thinking about how many kilometers are left. I slow way down, ignore the destination, look at my feet, and just walk. Works every time. Not just on hikes.

Donkey mode got me to the first trees. I looked up and saw the abandoned station on top of the hill. Not close, but visible.

Some time later, I reached the crash site. The collapsed support pole was still lying across the rocks, with the cables running down the slope.

The sun had started to go down, the heat was easing off, and overall, things were getting easier.

When I reached the forest, I stopped for a break.

With the evening sun, I expected the forest section to be nice and smooth. All I had to do was follow the markers until I found the rope. The route was marked by small pyramids of stones left by fellow hikers and arrows painted on the rocks.

At first, it was indeed nice. Then the route sent me crawling down near-vertical rocks, climbing back up the same kind of rocks, and doing it all over again. The markers became messier and harder to spot. Sometimes, the only viable way forward was straight through thickets of something incomprehensible. Eventually, I got lost. Then I got lost again.

I knew I had to calm down and stop rushing. At the same time, golden hour was about 30-40 minutes away. Missing it after all this would have been extremely disappointing.

As I pushed through yet another patch of bushes, I finally saw this God-blessed thing.

The rope section itself was surprisingly easy. After everything before it, climbing with the rope almost felt like a rest. But when the rope ended, there was still one short but steep section left before the asphalt road. I put the pedal to the metal, and the moment I climbed onto the road, my leg nearly cramped. But I made it. Phew!

From there, I was just one turn away from the summit.

And just around that turn, I bumped into this.

It was about 5 minutes until the golden hour. For a second, I was worried that security would spot me climbing over the gate and turn me away. But everything went smoothly: I climbed over it and finally saw THIS.

The route down followed an asphalt road all the way, so it was going to be longer but much easier.

When I hopped back over the fence, I pulled out the last of my salty sticks and the rest of my water, and I was the happiest man alive.

Honestly, years from now, I won’t remember another gadget I bought or another piece of code I wrote. But I will remember making it to the top of this hill. This is life.