From the Lights of the Bosphorus to the Valley of Dreams: First Discoveries on Türkiye’s Aegean Coast
Travel notes by Nurmyrat Yylkybayev
It seems only yesterday that I was travelling through Gaziantep and Şanlıurfa, exploring Anatolia’s ancient monuments and attending the TEKNOFEST technology festival. And now Türkiye was calling me back onto the road. This time our route led through Balıkesir and Çanakkale, where the beautiful landscapes of the Aegean coast meet a remarkable historical and cultural heritage.
The press trip, held from 10 to 14 October 2026, was organised with the participation of the Culture and Tourism Office at the Embassy of the Republic of Türkiye, the Türkiye Tourism Promotion and Development Agency (TGA), and Turkish Airlines. Our delegation comprised eleven representatives of Turkmenistan’s public and private media.
Before departure, the participants were invited to the Turkish Airlines office in Ashgabat to learn about the itinerary. As I was away on another assignment at the time, I found out the details of our new route a little later.
Three of our colleagues left for Istanbul on the evening of 9 October. The other eight, myself included, flew out of Ashgabat in the early hours of 10 October.
Ashgabat by Night and the Lights of the Bosphorus
As usual, we arrived at Ashgabat International Airport well ahead of time, almost three hours before departure. I left my car in the designated car park, a very convenient arrangement.
Our beautiful airport looked particularly impressive at night. Bright illumination brought out the building’s distinctive architecture, while its spacious, light-filled interiors lent a special atmosphere to the start of our journey.
Check-in and baggage drop took very little time, leaving us an opportunity to take a group photograph at the Turkish Airlines counters.
Once on board, I noticed another aircraft parked nearby: a plane belonging to Turkmenistan Airlines. Under the floodlights, I could clearly make out the wing of our Turkish Airlines aircraft with its red emblem and the green tail of the Turkmen aircraft.
Soon the familiar tune Cradle Kisses began to play as we prepared to take off. The in-flight entertainment system offered plenty of films, but this time I chose to get some sleep. On a previous journey, I had watched Hamnet, a moving drama about William Shakespeare’s family. This time, however, sleep held more appeal than a movie premiere.
The night flight was uneventful. Most passengers were dozing, but our approach to Istanbul offered an unforgettable sight.
Even from the night sky, one could sense the bustle of a city that had once been the capital of mighty empires. Thousands of lights glittered along the Bosphorus, while ships, tankers and other vessels crossed its dark waters. Life here seemed never to pause.
After landing, the melody Sparkle Stream played in the cabin, followed by the flight attendant’s warm, familiar welcome:
“Ladies and gentlemen, dear children! Welcome to Istanbul, one of the world’s most visited cities, bringing together continents and civilisations and renowned for its culture, history and unique beauty.”
Istanbul: An Airport That Never Sleeps
Istanbul Airport felt like a living organism, moving to its own remarkably well-coordinated rhythm. Some travellers had just arrived; others hurried to their gates, bound for every corner of the world.
Despite the constant movement, everything seemed surprisingly orderly. The airport welcomed and bade farewell to travellers like cherished guests, offering somewhere to rest, a bite to eat, a cup of fragrant Turkish coffee or a taste of traditional sweets. The enticing displays of international brands beckoned even the most demanding shoppers. Of course, it would be easy to lose track of time among so many temptations—and, heaven forbid, miss your flight.
It was here that we met the three colleagues who had left Ashgabat the previous evening. While we were making our way through the night, they had already enjoyed several hours of the comforts of this enormous aviation hub.
Fortunately, our luggage had been checked through from Ashgabat to our final destination. This reminded me of an amusing incident on an earlier trip, when a travelling companion waited at a baggage carousel in Istanbul for a suitcase that was already on its way to Izmir. I told that story in an earlier Orient article, “A Journey to Izmir: From a Night Flight to Morning Adventures.” [Orient ↗]
After checking the departure boards, we headed for our gate. Our next flight was a domestic Turkish Airlines service to a town with an unfamiliar-sounding name: Edremit. Yet the board also displayed another name, Balıkesir Koca Seyit. At the time, I could not understand why one airport had two names.
An Unexpected Reunion with “Uncle” Ramazan
A pleasant surprise awaited us on arrival. There to welcome our group of journalists was an old acquaintance, a good friend and almost a relative—“Uncle” Ramazan!
Only a few days earlier we had travelled together through Gaziantep and Şanlıurfa. In my earlier article “On the Road to TEKNOFEST: Gaziantep, a Reunion with an Old Friend and the Legend of Suzi,” I explained why I call him uncle. He bears a striking resemblance to my late uncle, whose memory still takes me back to childhood. [Orient ↗]
And now, in a new place on a new journey, we were gree ted by that familiar, almost family-like face once again. As soon as we settled into the bus, I asked Ramazan the question that had been bothering me since Istanbul:
“Ramazan, tell me at last, why does the airport have two names?” As it turned out, Edremit is the town near the airport, while Koca Seyit refers to Seyit Onbaşı, a celebrated Turkish soldier who distinguished himself during the 1915 Gallipoli campaign.
We had barely left the airport, and already we had discovered a chapter of Turkish history.
Breakfast in the Valley of Dreams
Knowing that our flight from Istanbul had arrived a little late, Ramazan decided not to waste time and drove us straight to breakfast. After a night flight and busy airports, it felt as though we had entered another world. Amid tall pines, fig, chestnut and apricot trees and magnolias, near the picturesque Manastır Stream (Manastır Çayı), a welcoming spot awaited us with the lovely name Düşler Vadisi—the Valley of Dreams.
Our hostess was Emine, a delightful woman with a gentle, welcoming voice. She spoke warmly about the food she had prepared, proudly explaining that she made everything herself. Judging by the homely atmosphere, it appeared to be a small family-run business.
Before long, we were enjoying a proper Turkish village breakfast, or köy kahvaltısı.
The table filled with all kinds of treats: several varieties of cheese, Turkish sucuk sausage, freshly sliced vegetables, an array of homemade jams and desserts. The hot dishes were particularly tempting: kaşar cheese fried in butter, menemen—eggs cooked with tomatoes and peppers—and patlıcan kızartması, fried aubergines.
There was so much to choose from, and the aromas awakened our appetites even after a sleepless night.
The beauty around us also stirred memories of home among our group. Some recalled Firyuza, others the scenic retreat of Chuli in the foothills of the Kopetdag mountains, not far from Ashgabat.
Indeed, something about the cool air, the greenery and the sense of peace felt familiar. Nature can awaken warm memories of home even thousands of kilometres away.
Adatepe: The History of Olive Oil and the Legend of Refika After such a hearty breakfast, we thought Ramazan might finally take us to the hotel for some rest after our sleepless night.
Not a chance!
Our next stop was the Adatepe Olive Oil Museum (Adatepe Zeytinyağı Müzesi) in Küçükkuyu, Çanakkale Province.
Opened in 2001 in a former soap factory, the museum is dedicated to the centuries-old traditions of olive oil and soap production.
Inside was a fascinating collection: huge stone millstones, old presses, giant clay storage jars, photographs of former olive-mill workers and metal tins bearing colourful labels from years gone by.
During the tour we learned how olive oil was made, from crushing and pressing the fruit to storing the finished product.
I was curious about where the machinery had come from. When I asked, our guide told me it had been manufactured in Italy. The conversation then turned to the modern geography of olive oil production. According to our guide, Spain remains the world leader, while Türkiye has considerably strengthened its position in recent years, overtaking Italy in some seasons.
Another section was devoted to traditional soap-making. We learned that the prepared soap mixture used to be poured into moulds, left to harden, cut into individual bars and stamped by hand with the maker’s mark. Yet what caught my attention most was a portrait of a woman near the museum entrance.
It depicted Refika, the heroine of a local legend, a Greek girl who lived in Adatepe in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. She was known for her beauty, lively nature, lovely singing voice and dancing. Both the Greek and Turkish residents of the village were fond of her. The upheavals of history forced Refika to leave her home, but her memory lived on in the stories of the villagers. According to local legend, her likeness was later recognised in an old portrait found on the Greek island of Chios.
Today, the beautiful Refika’s image adorns labels on local olive oil, recalling a time when different communities lived side by side in this region.
Our visit ended at a small shop beside the museum, where rows of metal tins of Adatepe olive oil lined the shelves. Each carried Refika’s now-familiar portrait.
A five-litre tin cost 3,950 Turkish lira. Yet more interesting than the price was the realisation that behind this everyday product lie centuries of tradition, human stories and the history of an entire region. Only then did Ramazan finally take us to the hotel.
Behind us were a sleepless night, two flights, Istanbul’s enormous airport, an unexpected reunion with an old friend, a homemade breakfast beneath the pines and a glimpse into the history of an old olive mill. The first day had been so full that by the time we checked in, it felt as though we had been travelling for an entire day rather than just a few hours.
And still ahead lay legendary Mount Ida, ancient Assos, the Troy immortalised by Homer and the historic sites of Gallipoli. But more about those places in the next travel notes.
