The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
Turkey’s ‘slow cities’ hold the key to happiness
Cittaslows such as Akyaka offer a pace of life that never feels rushed, says Annabelle Thorpe
Sunday mornings in Akyaka are a gentle, slow-paced affair. On the banks of the Azmak river, couples sit in camping chairs sipping coffee from flasks; parents unpack stoves and picnic blankets while children dip their toes in the icy waters, watched uncertainly by gaggles of ducks and geese. In the centre of town, the beach is just waking up; sunloungers are unstacked, menus are placed on the tables that sit in clutches on the sand. Beyond, the trails through Akyaka Orman – its great, green forest – are already freckled with hikers and strollers; the latter perhaps taking the forest path to one of the waterfront cafés for a leisurely breakfast.
It’s a Sunday morning, but it could be any day of the week. Akyaka is not a place that rushes. One of Turkey’s 22 “Cittaslows” (the second to be inaugurated, in 2011), the town has deliberately stepped away from the mass tourism model that characterises the nearby resorts of Marmaris and Dalyan. Every Cittaslow must meet more than 50 criteria, with a focus on sustainability and quality of life; everything from creating green spaces and pedestrian areas to supporting local farmers and reducing noise pollution. In recent years, the town has also benefited from its newfound status among water sports fans; the regular winds push reliable waves into the Gulf, making nearby Akcapinar beach one of the best places in the world for kite-surfing.
Twenty-five years ago, when I was a holiday rep in Turkey, Akyaka was a sleepy, slightly ramshackle town, known for the fish restaurants that line the Azmak and the elegant houses that fringe the bougainvillaea-draped streets. In the 1970s, a Turkish architect, Nail Cakirhan, restored many of the houses in a traditional Ottoman style – wooden balconies, whitewashed walls and warm, scarlet-hued roofs. Today, all new homes must be built in the same style, giving the town a pleasingly low-rise feel, without an apartment block or sprawling resort in sight.
This time round, I was staying five minutes’ drive out of town, in a small hotel where every other guest (like everywhere in Akyaka, seemingly) was Turkish. We’d found our way to the Iskelem via a new booking platform, otelz.com – Turkish-owned but English language, which gives the chance to discover small independent hotels that can be difficult to find on western sites. Set on a small inlet, backed by towering, forested mountains, the Iskelem shares the small bay with two other low-rise hotels, each with their own jetty.
Days quickly slipped into an easy routine; a lazy breakfast by the water, an hour with a book, before my partner was whisked off to the kiting beach while I explored the town. I took slow walks along the Azmak, looking out for heron and kingfishers, and swam in the shallow waters of the town’s main beach. Akyaka is split into two halves by a lush, pine-filled wood; the lower part full of restaurants, bars and souvenir shops, the upper half more workaday – supermarkets, banks and the pleasing sense of a Turkish town going about its business.
One afternoon we hopped on one of the new, solar-powered boats that glide up the Azmak. The town’s Cittaslow status is evident everywhere. The restaurants that dot the riverbank offer local dishes, made with produce from the surrounding farms; when we ambled back into town, the streets were quiet and tranquil, free of bars blasting out thumping music or vendors shouting their wares. On market day – Wednesday – we joined the crowds of locals shopping for everything from hardware and clothes to vegetables and cheese; local women with piles of watercress, bundles of fresh herbs and scarlet tomatoes spread out on sheets, picked that morning from their own gardens and farms.
On our last night, we ventured into town in time for sunset and waded out into the sea, the water a shimmering petrol-blue. Behind us, palm trees were silhouetted against a magenta and gold sky, the lamps on the restaurant tables like fireflies in the dusk; beyond, the mountains rose, dense with forest, bottle-green against the darkening sky. Afterwards we headed to the street behind the beach, Nergiz Sokak, for dinner at the Azmak Corba Salonu, a no-frills lokanta, where crispy pide (pizza) bubbling with cheese and a spicy Adana kebab, accompanied by glasses of Sprite, cost the princely sum of £18.
As we walked back through the quiet streets, it struck me that Akyaka’s “slow town” status has saved it from the fate of overdevelopment that characterises many of Turkey’s most picturesque resorts. Sometimes, schemes like this can seem like a lot of talk for not much result, but with Akyaka there’s a palpable awareness of the worth of a slower pace of life, both for locals and tourists. It’s a place that benefits from coming off-season – spring and autumn, when there’s even more time and space to really revel in the town’s spectacular scenery. For me, having watched so many other Turkish towns change, it’s wonderful to discover a place that feels like the country I fell in love with almost three decades ago. Next year, we’re going back for a month.
Annabelle Thorpe was a guest of otelz. com, staying at the Iskelem Otel (00 90 252 243 40 09; izkelemotel.com.tr), which offers doubles from £72 B&B; and Holiday Extras, which offers a week’s car parking plus an overnight stay at Gatwick from £225. EasyJet (easyjet. com) flies from Gatwick to Izmir from £104 return