Kazdağları: Mountains No Photograph Can Truly Capture
After breakfast, two handsome Land Rover off-road vehicles awaited us. Their engines rumbling, they seemed to invite us on a jeep safari through Kazdağı National Park. It was one of the highlights of a press trip 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.
Such trips allow journalists from abroad to discover different sides of Türkiye. TGA’s work promoting the country’s natural and cultural heritage becomes particularly tangible on routes like this. Rather than seeing familiar promotional images, we can experience the places ourselves, speak with local guides and share our impressions with readers.
Soon the city streets were behind us. The road wound up through wooded mountain slopes, with glimpses of the sea appearing between the trees. The scenery changed at every bend.
Ancient Ida and the story of Sarıkız
Our guide explained that the Kazdağları mountains have been known since antiquity as Mount Ida. Ancient Greek mythology places the Judgment of Paris here, an event linked to the story of the Trojan War. The mountains also have their own local legends. One tells of Sarıkız, a young woman said to have tended geese on these slopes. According to the story, this explains the name Kazdağları: kaz means “goose” in Turkish.
Above Şahindere Canyon
From the wooden viewing terrace at Küçük Burun, we looked down into Şahindere Canyon. Pale rock faces dropped deep into the gorge, while densely forested mountainsides rose opposite. According to our guide, the canyon extends for roughly 25 kilometres, and we stood at an altitude of about 800–850 metres. But the numbers quickly faded in the face of the view.
Our group included professional photographers — people not easily astonished by beautiful scenery. Yet throughout the journey we repeatedly heard their amazed “Wow!” The contrast of pale cliffs, deep green forest and blue sky, together with the remarkable clarity of the air, looked more vivid than anything on a camera screen. “No camera or lens can do justice to this,” our colleagues said.
The guide also repeated a popular claim that the air of Kazdağları ranks second only to the Alps for oxygen richness. There is no reliable global ranking to establish such a position, so it is best understood as a local tourism description. The sensation of refreshing mountain air, however, needed no ranking.
The weeping pine
We also stopped beside a remarkable old pine, called Ağlayan Çam — the “Weeping Pine”. Our guide estimated its age at more than two centuries and related a local story about how it survived a forest fire. According to the legend, moisture appears on the tree at certain times, like tears for the trees that did not survive. He suggested that its unusual moisture levels may have helped protect it. This is a moving story, though not a scientifically established explanation of its survival.
A glass floor over the abyss
The glass-floored observation platform extending over the canyon offered a special thrill. Your mind tells you that the platform is a purpose-built structure, yet your eyes instinctively travel down to the rocks and forests far below your feet. Even a single step feels different from walking on ordinary ground.
At that moment a curious thought struck me: human beings are rather like moths drawn to a flame. We invent tests of courage, seek out extreme experiences and deliberately put ourselves in startling situations — although, these days, life already seems to offer enough excitement. Still, we approach the edge again, just to look into the depths and see the world from another angle.
Down to the waterfall — without a lift
After the panoramic viewpoints, we set off on foot towards the Ayıgölü waterfall. The guide had warned us about the descent, but it sounded easier than it proved to be. For city dwellers accustomed to the staircases of flats and offices — or, more often, to lifts — the mountain path was a real test.
I especially remember a wooden ladder made from two logs, with only one handrail. I confess my legs began to tremble. Perhaps it was a little fear, or perhaps muscles had suddenly been asked to repeat movements they had not made since childhood hikes. I wisely kept this to myself. Yet I had not felt an adrenaline rush like that for a very long time!
Among stone giants
At last the waterfall appeared, sheltered between immense boulders and strangely shaped rock masses. Great cliffs hung over it like silent guards protecting this secluded corner. Silvery streams fell over the rock and murmured between the stones, then settled into the calm, almost mirror-like surface of a mountain pool.
There was wonderful harmony between the sheer weight of stone and the gentle movement of water. Pebbles could be seen through the clear water, with trees crowding around the banks. Our guide explained that visitors sometimes swim here in warmer weather. We could only admire and photograph it — then make the climb back. Naturally, no lift had been installed among the boulders.
You have to feel it for yourself
Looking through the photographs later, I remembered our colleagues’ words. A photograph may be beautiful, but the most powerful sensations remain outside the frame. One has to breathe the mountain air, touch an old tree, listen to the water, feel the cool rock and even experience that tremor in the legs after a difficult descent.
That, perhaps, is the point of journeys like the ones TGA helps introduce to international visitors: we discover Türkiye not merely through promotional images but through our own senses. Kazdağları must be seen, breathed, heard, touched and truly felt. Only then do you understand why even professional photographers struggle to find the words.
