Anatolia means ‘the land of the sunrise’, and each day I
witness the warm light that passes from the far edge of
Asia and shines onwards to Europe. Time is part of the
landscape in Turkey, where humans have witnessed this
same daybreak since time was first recorded. The rhythmic
play of shadow and sun details every stone fragment, lights
up engravings etched in ancient script, spelling out the
elaborate chapters in Turkey’s long and layered history.From the eastern border to Istanbul,
I follow the time-trodden grooves
in the stone streets, polished by
Greek and Roman soldiers, Silk
Road merchants, Christian pilgrims,
Byzantine monks, Catholic crusaders
and Ottoman sultans. At every site
I wonder, is it Bronze or Iron Age,
Paleolithic or Neolithic, and is it
Greek, Roman, Byzantine, Ottoman
— or all of the above? Exploring
Anatolia has changed my concept
of time. Indeed, Turkey redefines old.Mount Nemrut
On a morning hike up Mount
Nemrut, the peach-pink dawn
reflects off the silent stone figures
that guard the ancient summit tomb
of King Antiochus I. The view is
immortal — stretching out for miles
and miles over the deep and furrowed
valleys of the Taurus Mountains.
Up here, the hills have eyes; gigantic
statues of gods and creatures straight
out of Greek mythology all stare
blankly at the glowing horizon.
IM
AG
ES
:^ M
AT
TH
IEU
PA
LE
Y
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