Did you know that the term "meander" has its roots in the name of the river Maeander, which winds its way through the plain where the Ionian cities of Priene and Miletus formerly stood? The relentless flow of the Maeander eventually silted over the harbours of both these cities. Today, the ruins sit far inland.

At 10 a.m., it is already scorching hot when we pull into the parking lot at Priene, but fortunately we will be shaded from the sun for most of our visit. The site is situated in a pine forest on the lower slopes of Mt. Mycale, and the experience of touring Priene is almost akin to stumbling across the foundations of an old farm in a Nova Scotia forest. The ruins of Priene date back to the Greeks of the 4th century BC. Unlike many other ancient sites in Turkey, the Romans had little interest in Priene and did not build over the Greek structures. Alexander the Great visited here in 334 BC and footed the bill for part of the cost of building the Temple of Athena.

To see the stone commemorating Alexander's contribution to Priene's Temple of Apollo, you will have to visit the basement of the British Museum in London. Other finds from the Priene site are in Berlin. It is becoming clear that a distressingly large number of Turkey's ancient treasures were plundered by 19th century archeologists, while the Ottoman rulers were seemingly asleep at the switch. This barn door was firmly closed by Ataturk's government, and Turkey now has strict prohibitions and harsh penalties for removing ANYTHING from a historic site. This is a real hardship for Rick, who loves to collect rocks when we travel. I literally have to watch him like a hawk.

The climb from the parking lot to the site is steep and hot, and an elderly French woman being helped up the hill by her solicitous husband is breathing like a deep sea diver. I admire her courage but privately review my CPR technique. This is definitely not a wheelchair-accessible site.

After photographing ourselves in the intricately carved VIP seats of the large theatre, we strike off into the trees in search of the "Sanctuary of Demeter".



I am enjoying the uphill scramble through the trees until a snake slithers out from under a rock just in front of my foot. It is thin and grey and looks like a dry stick. I immediately jump to the conclusion that I have narrowly escaped an agonizing death by snakebite poisoning, and thank my lucky stars for Rick's insistence that I wear lace-up hiking shoes and socks. Suddenly, I feel much less keen on locating the Sanctuary of Demeter. We move downhill to explore the agora, the foundations of ancient houses, and the Temple of Athena (designed by Pithius, a renowned architect who also designed the Mausoleum of Helicarnassus, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World).



The council chamber has a beautifully-preserved altar, decorated with bull's heads and garlands. The ancient Greek inscription on a pillar at the door of the "House of Alexander" supposedly states that "only the pure, clothed in symbolic white garments, are permitted to enter the sanctuary".*



A Byzantine castle is built over the ruins of another ancient temple. There is much to see. By the time we finish, we have been hiking up and down the hill for over three hours, and we are ravenously hungry.

We drive off along narrow country roads through glorious scenery, in search of a remote restaurant that had been recommended by the owner of the Swiss rental car agency. After driving about 7 km in a southerly direction, we take a right turn to the west, past Karine. We find the restaurant at the end of the road, beside a military outpost guarded by men carrying submachine guns.



When the soldiers get lunch breaks, they must eat very well! After eating so many peanuts and cherries in the car, we really should have skipped the mezzas but we give ourselves over to gluttony and sample a thick tzaziki and a delectable eggplant salad. Our fish is grilled to perfection..crisp on the outside, moist and flavorful inside. By the time we finish our meal, we just want to go back to the boat and have a nap but instead, we head for Miletus.

This was the birthplace of the philosopher Thales, one of the "Seven Sages", who famously said "Know Thyself!" (a motto inscribed on the Temple of Apollo in Delphi). Thales apparently also said he was glad to have been born a human instead of an animal, a Greek instead of a barbarian, and a man instead of a woman, which gives you some idea of the status of women and barbarians in those days. Miletus was the birthplace of the Greek alphabet (creating it by adapting the Phoenician alphabet). In the 5th century BC , Miletus approached Ephesus in size. It later fell into the hands of the Persians, was liberated by Alexander the Great in 334 BC and remained an important city until Roman times. St. Paul met with the leaders of his fledgling congregation in Ephesus here, on his way back to Jerusalem around 57 AD.

The huge theatre at Miletus is very well preserved, and in some respects doesn't seem much different from any large stadium today.



We take a moment to imagine Paul speaking to thousands of spectators. Only a puppy is here today. For obvious reasons, I wish that I could take him home.



We exit through one of the "vomitoria" (not what you might be thinking...just vaulted passageways designed to let the crowds exit in an orderly fashion). We continue along a dirt path toward the ruins of the city. A signboard points out the locations of the ancient "Harbour of the Lions" (now just a dusty field), the re-erected columns of the stoa (a long colonnaded porch) a temple of Apollo and various other important buildings. This is a site where you could really let your imagination run wild, but our energy levels are flagging. We take a quick look through the windows of the 15th century "Mosque of 40 steps" (closed for restoration), walk through its spooky graveyard courtyard, then decide we have had enough.



All in all it seems a bit of an anticlimax after Priene, but worth the trip if only for the translucent green onyx candle holder that I bought at the exit for only 30 lira. (I am still regretting that I did not also buy the exquisite mortar and pestle that was also on display.)

We decide to give Didyma a miss and head back toward Kusadasi. But after driving about 5 km, I read the description of Didyma in our guidebooks and decide that I really, really want to see it. Proving that he is a man of infinite patience, Rick doubles back, waves to the group of head-scarfed women that had waved to us enthusiastically the first time we passed the corner, then drives the slow 25kms to Didyma. At least it is an interesting drive, through farming country. We pass many trucks loaded with farm workers, many of whom are women wearing identical orange printed headscarves with the tails pulled across their faces, giving them the appearance of bandits.

At Didyma, Rick announces that he is "templed out". He waits in the car while I dash down the street for a quick look at the massive Temple of Apollo that once housed an oracle almost as prominent as the one at Delphi. The statues from this temple were also hauled back to jolly old England in the 19th century. From the gate, the temple looks pretty impressive even without the statues.



But after such a long day it is difficult to whip up any enthusiasm. (I think they call this sensory overload.) Instead of buying a ticket to go inside, I trudge back to the car and we drive back to Kusadasi, waving to our new friends at the corner as we pass them for the third time.

We have one last stop to make, at the large "Kipa" supermarket on the outskirts of Kusadaci. After loading the car with a huge load of groceries, we drive back to the marina and collapse in the cockpit. In spite of the volume of food we have bought over the past 24 hours, neither of us has the remotest interest in dinner. We turn in early, planning an early start for Ephesus in the morning.

*Historical references Blue Guide Turkey, Second Edition, 1995 and Fodors Turkey 7th Edition 2009