Descending to the Mediterranean – Konya to Silifke

The leg from Konya to Silifke is about 160 miles, so it’ll take me 2-3 weeks to walk it. I estimate I’ll be passing through this area in mid-November.

The route climbs from Konya’s 3350 feet to over 5000 feet, and then drops to sea level. Most of the drop occurs over a 25-mile stretch 80 miles outside Konya, so for a week after I leave Konya I’ll still be on the Anatolian plateau.

The first part of this leg, while I’m still on the plateau, follows the route of the Istanbul-Baghdad railroad. The railroad was built in the early 1900s, mostly before World War I. Envisioned as part of a rail link between Berlin and Mesopotamia, the railroad would have extended German and Ottoman economic control into Mesopotamia, balancing British and Russian influence in that region. However, construction was slowed by political and technical difficulties. After WWI the Istanbul-Baghdad railroad was eventually finished, and parts of it are still in operation today, but the vision had for it when construction began in 1903 never came to fruition.

At the edge of the plateau is Karaman, a city of about 132,000 people. This area is known for the extinct volcano Karadag (literally: Black Mountain) and the Binbirkilise, which literally means 1,001 Churches. There aren’t really 1,001 churches, more like 50 ruins, but the area was a hotbed of early Christianity. Once Christianity moved into the cities though, these kinds of outposts out in the boonies often fell by the wayside.

By the way, before Karaman took its Turkish name, it was known in another language as Larawanda, which literally meant “a sandy place.”

About 15 miles out of Karaman I’ll reach Sertavul Pass at 5400 feet. Over a two-day period I will drop from Sertavul to about 600 feet. Imagine driving up a hill that requires you to shift down a couple gears and go slow just to make it — that’s what the slope is like, except, of course, instead of going up I’ll be going down. It’ll take me over half a year to cross Turkey, and I won’t see too many slopes like this one, so I imagine it will be a refreshing change of pace.

Shortly after beginning the descent from Sertavul, near a village called Gecimli, I’ll pass the Alahan Monastery. Alahan was a Christian monastery built in the late 5th century and then abandoned a couple hundred years later. UNESCO is considering Alahan for inclusion on the World Heritage Site list.

A day or so after Alahan, I’ll reach the town of Mut. Mut has about 29,000 people and lies at the foot of the Taurus mountains. The area is known for its apricots, but since I’ll be passing through in November, I don’t expect to see any of those.

After passing through Mut I’ll still have a week of walking up and down rolling hills before reaching Silifke near the Mediterranean.

Much of the road between Mut and Silifke follows the Goksu River. The Goksu (literally: Sky Water) originates in the Taurus Mountains and drains into the Mediterranean. In 1190 during the Third Crusade the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick Barbarossa drowned in the Goksu River. If all goes well, I will not share his fate.

After about a week rolling along the Goksu I’ll head into the town of Silifke, population 55,000. It looks like the weather around these parts will be a nice change from Konya and the Anatolian plateau, where November’s nighttime temperatures hover around freezing. Silifke’s Mediterranean climate means that even in November the temperatures are likely to fluctuate between the mid-50s (Fahrenheit) at night and the mid-70s during the day (mid-teens to mid-20s Celsius).

Silifke is about 5 miles inland from the Mediterranean, so I probably won’t see the sea until my first day out of town, when I’ll begin an entire week walking along the Mediterranean. As in, so close to the sea that I could pick up a rock, throw it, and it would land in the water. Since by this time I will have been inland for about three months, I will probably be very happy for the change of scenery. More on the post-Silifke walk later, though.