
Anatolia
Two continents, ten layers of civilisation, one quiet interior.
This is Turkey
Most trips to Turkey unfold within a triangle: a weekend in Istanbul, a balloon flight over Göreme, a week on the Aegean or Lycian coast. It's an understandable triangle, but it leaves most of the country untouched. Between the Bosphorus and the Armenian border lies an Anatolian plateau as big as France, with wheat fields running to the horizon, extinct volcanoes, cave dwellings still lived in today, and the ruins of Ani standing in silence a stone's throw from the closed border with Armenia.
Turkey is not a bridge between east and west, that's the tourist-brochure version. It's a country where Hittites, Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, Seljuks and Ottomans each left their layer, often literally stacked one on top of another: a Byzantine church inside an Ottoman fort, built on Hittite foundations. Anyone who sees only the coast sees the backdrop. The interior is where the country stays itself, even when no traveller is watching.
The regions
What the map calls one country feels, on the ground, like a series of landscapes with little in common, apart from the history buried beneath all of them.

The tuff valleys aren't a backdrop, they're still inhabited villages: dovecotes carved into the rock, underground cities where early Christian communities sheltered for generations. Beyond Göreme lies Mustafapaşa, where Greek Orthodox and Ottoman façades stand side by side.

Greener and damper than the rest of the country, with tea plantations on slopes that look almost too steep to climb. The Hemshin valley has its own language and its own rhythm: wooden yayla huts high in the mountains where families return every summer.

Not the coast of the big resorts, but of small harbour towns, Lycian rock tombs carved above the water, and a sunken city at Kekova visible only from a boat. The coastline is jagged enough to never feel crowded.

The least visited part of the country and the richest in history: the medieval Armenian capital of Ani, abandoned on the border with Armenia, Lake Van with its island church of Akdamar, and steppe where shepherds still travel on foot with their flocks.

Flat, quiet and lit in a way few travellers expect. Lake Tuz Gölü changes colour with the seasons, Konya was the Seljuk capital and remains the heart of the Mevlevi order, and stone caravanserais still line the old caravan routes that once sheltered travellers for centuries.

People and table
Turkish cuisine has become synonymous abroad with kebab, but travel through the interior and you taste something else: mezes that vary by region, hamsi, anchovy, worked into everything on the Black Sea coast, from bread to dessert, and village bakeries in Cappadocia where bread is still baked in underground tandır ovens.
The hamam isn't a spa experience for tourists, it's a social ritual that has existed for centuries: steam, marble and a conversation that moves slower than you're used to. Hospitality here rarely means an outstretched hand for a tip; it means a third glass of tea you never asked for, and a host genuinely disappointed if you refuse.
Landscape and nature

Just behind the Black Sea coast, mountains rise above 3,900 metres, with alpine meadows, glacial lakes and hiking trails that open in summer once the snow has just melted.

Turkey's largest lake, highly alkaline, home to its own fish species and a shoreline where flamingos and other migratory birds gather in spring and autumn.

The former capital of the Hittite empire sits alone on a hilltop amid farmland: no queue, no souvenir stand, just wind over walls three thousand years old.
Verder kijken dan de highlights
Beyond the Istanbul-Cappadocia-Antalya triangle Those three places are rightly famous, but they're also where nine out of ten travellers stop. We look at what comes after: eastern Anatolia, the Black Sea coast, the steppe around Konya.
The interior outweighs the coast The coast is beautiful, but it's also the part of Turkey that most resembles any other Mediterranean coastline. The Anatolian plateau has no equivalent elsewhere.
Timing decides whether the interior works The steppe can turn scorching in July and August, while the coast is packed at the same time. We plan around those two realities, not past them.
Local knowledge of politically sensitive borders Parts of the southeast lie close to border regions that need attention. Our local experts know the current distinction between what's calm and what isn't, region by region, and shape their own routes accordingly.
What's possible
These aren't day trips from a brochure, they're the kind of moments a journey through Turkey can be built around, at whatever pace suits you.

Not the large cave hotels along the main road, but a small-scale address in a less-visited village, where the owner can tell you the history of the house themselves.

Join in, or simply watch, as bread is still baked the traditional way, in an underground tandır oven, with a family that has done this for generations.

From yayla to yayla, the summer huts where Hemshin families bring their flocks. A landscape few foreign visitors ever get to see.

By small boat rather than a day-trip catamaran, past sunken ruins and bays you'd never find from the road.

The abandoned medieval city on the border with Armenia, with a local guide who knows its layered history: Armenian, Georgian, Seljuk, Ottoman.
This is a starting point, not a complete list. The real plan takes shape in conversation.

The Anatolian plateau, east of Konya. The Turkey most travellers skip.
Wanneer reis je?
The coast is walkable nearly year-round, but the interior has a narrower window. In July and August the steppe can climb above 35 degrees by day, while winters in eastern Anatolia and on the plateau are harsh and snowbound. Kars and Erzurum then see temperatures well below freezing.
Late April to June is the best period for the interior: the wheat fields are green, the mountain passes have just opened and it isn't yet scorching. September to mid-October is a second good window, with softer light and fewer crowds in Cappadocia.


Every hundred kilometres, another layer of history, and in between: simply a country that farms, bakes and waits for the harvest.
Turkey isn't a bridge between two worlds.
It's a country that has never given up its own layers.
Goed om te weten
A few practical points to bear in mind when planning a trip through Turkey.
A few things travellers often ask us before setting off on a trip through Turkey.
Or perhaps this
Still weighing it up? That is no problem at all. The right country often only becomes clear once the conversation starts.

A region without hard borders, where tundra and pine forest live under a light that swings between two extremes throughout the year: months of sun or months of night.

An island that has gone its own way for millions of years, and it shows in almost everything.

An island where Indian, African, Chinese and French influences live side by side, far beyond the image of a villa on the beach.

The next step
A cave house or a yayla hut, coast or steppe, two weeks or three. Tell us what draws you to Turkey and what you're curious about, and we'll build a route around it together.