From Göcek to Greek Islands: A Not-So-Touristy Guide to Coastal Turkey

If the Amalfi Coast had a less obvious cousin, it would be the Turkish Riviera. Stretching along Turkey’s southwestern edge, this stretch of coastline is all slow mornings and salt-slicked afternoons, ancient ruins, beach bars on stilts, and towns filled with cats and grilled sea bass.

I didn’t plan this trip with my usual precision. Instead I followed instinct and tips from locals, went on one or two questionable taxi journeys, and ended up on secluded bays on the Turkish coast, staring up at Lycian rock tombs, gliding past reed beds, and developing a mild dependency on freshly-squeezed pomegranate juice.

This guide isn’t just a list of places to visit in the Turkish Riviera, but it highlights the places that actually made me feel something. From Göcek’s yacht-studded calm to the beach club platforms in Kaş, I’ve tried (and sunned, and swam, and snacked) through the best of coastal Türkiye. If you want slick Mediterranean resorts in Turkey and barefoot coves, rooftop rakı and Lycian tombs, and you’re not above befriending a café-owner’s cat, read on.

GÖCEK

Yachts come to Göcek to anchor in the bay and do nothing, and somehow, that makes her more alluring than anywhere else on the Turkish Riviera. Tucked into a bay of twelve surrounding islands, this suspiciously pretty natural harbour town on the Aegean coast remains sheltered from the tourist path, yet quietly famous among sailors and in-the-know holidaymakers. 

An island-hopper’s dream in Coastal Turkey, you can charter a gulet from Göcek marina and flit between the Twelve Islands — Tersane, Yassıca, Domuz, Cleopatra’s Bath — each one a pocket of sea-laced silence. Don’t expect beach clubs blaring house music here. Instead, think pine-fringed coves, wine in a paper cup and ruins of the ancient city of Karmilassos (Kalmice) under the waves. 

I spent the day swanning about at D-Resort Göcek, one of the Small Luxury Hotels of the World, and arguably the town’s five-star jewel resort. Though we weren’t staying the night, we were still shuttled in a buggy to the shore for lunch. If heaven has a beach restaurant, D’Breeze is it; a waterside deck of pale wood sat on the shallows of the turquoise Aegean, framed by slatted pergolas and airy sails. If you’ve got the time, stay a night or three to bury your toes in the floury sand (rumour has it that the sand has been exported from the Maldives) on the resort’s immaculate private beach.

Tucked into a more secluded stretch of the Göcek marina area, you’ll find a quiet residential enclave, Portville Villas Göcek, lined with man-made canals that flow right up to the back doors of a handful of exquisite, low-rise waterfront houses and holiday rentals, where you can moor your boat just steps from your breakfast table. In the town, my favourite places to stop were the carpet shop-slash-tea cafés between sleepy lanes, where kilims unfurl from ceilings like magic carpets while you sip rosehip tea.

FETHIYE

Fethiye is rough-edged and surprisingly romantic, a bit like a scruffy friend that knows how to throw great dinner parties. Yes, it’s touristy but it's full of surprises. Someone will try to sell you a leather belt with your name stitched into it, but look closer at the surroundings here and it reveals layers of history.

Look for rooftop bars and breakfast spots (and wild dolphins) along the promenade on Calis Beach, or take the Calis Boat Water Taxi (bring cash) into Fethiye proper, gliding along the canal that weaves its way lazily into the heart of the old town. Spot turtles and egrets as you sail, as well as locals trying their hand at fishing. Once you’re in Fethiye, hidden among the tourist buzz is Paspatur, the old bazaar, with its mosaic lamps and alleyways shadowed by rows of colourful umbrellas. Just a short drive away is the ghost village of Kayaköy, all faded blues and crumbling churches. 

Fethiye is a place that rewards curiosity. Look behind the souvenir stalls, and you'll find saffron-stained spice shops and quiet cafés filled with old men watching football over mint tea. The ruins here aren't as hidden as you’d think, they live in the town. The Lycian rock tombs are carved high into the cliffs like ancient penthouses watching over the city. 

ÖLÜDENIZ

Ölüdeniz Beach: an electric turquoise lagoon, gold-sifting-into-white sand, and an ever-rotating sky of paragliders who look like technicolour jellyfish floating across the sun; no wonder it’s the most photographed beach in Türkiye and one of the top beaches on the Turkish Riviera.

Every morning, paragliders fling themselves into picture-perfect adrenaline from a dizzying 1700m off Babadağ Mountain, circling over the Blue Lagoon and landing like giant butterflies on the beach‘s promenade-turned-runway. It’s totally thrilling to watch if you like your lounging with a hint of voyeuristic adrenaline. If throwing yourself off a cliff isn't your scene, fear not. The top of Babadağ is worth visiting for the views alone and there are three panoramic restaurants at different levels. The Babadağ Teleferik cable car whisks you from the base near Ölüdeniz beach up to one of the highest take-off points for paragliding in Europe. The journey takes about 15 minutes as your gondola ascends over pine forests. Sit down for lunch at 1,700 meters where the sky is blue on-minute and the next it’s cloud-draped. Order a glass of wine, a plate of mezze, and stay for the sunset.

We boarded a lazy six-island boat tour, a quaint and peaceful bob in-and-out of secluded coves that define the best boat tours in Ölüdeniz. The star, however, was Butterfly Valley. Accessible only by boat or masochistic hike, this dramatic V-shaped gorge hugged by cliffs is home to wild thyme, waterfalls, and if you’re lucky, the elusive Jersey tiger moth. The beach? White pebbles, warm sea, one makeshift beach-bar with a hammock or two, and no mobile reception. Paradise. The tour also swings by St. Nicholas Island, Cold Water Bay (where a chilly freshwater spring tickles your ankles), and Aquarium Bay, which is exactly as clear and fishy as it sounds.

Where to stay? I booked into Liberty Lykia Hotel in Ölüdeniz, which offers perfect views of the lagoon and easy access to all the coastal highlights.

KAŞ

Kaş is the kind of town you plan to visit for two nights, and then somehow start looking up real estate. That’s what happened to me. We hopped into a taxi on a whim and ended up in a whitewashed Greco-Turkish coastal town in southern Turkey, built on winding hills and sunshine. Climbing bougainvillaea, Ottoman balconies, and Lycian tombs right there, in the middle of town. The Turkish flags flutter like postcards in the breeze, and the streets are paved with cats, the unofficial mascots of Kaş.

Unlike other beach destinations in the Turkish Riviera, Kaş doesn’t do sandy beaches. It does cliffside cool. Kaş beach clubs are built on wooden platforms along the cliffside, where sun loungers spill down into the water and Aperol Spritzes dot tables. You jump straight into the sapphire sea, then climb back out to grilled halloumi and deep house at sunset. There’s a disused helicopter landing spot where you get the best view of the entire town. On weekends, the town buzzes with Turkish holidaymakers, especially stylish Istanbulites in search of a break from the city, which means the restaurants are excellent. My top pick is Sardelaki for fresh seafood, traditional flavours, all blue tables and sea breeze

And here’s a delicious little twist: from Kaş, you can quite literally see Greece. The island of Kastellorizo (or Meis, as it’s known in Turkish) sits just 2km offshore. In just 20 minutes by ferry, with passport in hand, you’re stepping off the Turkish coast and into a sun-bleached Greek dream. Kastellorizo is a tiny, theatrical slip of an island, all neoclassical mansions in sugared-almond pastels of peach, turquoise and faded lemon lined up along a harbor. It’s entirely possible, and wildly romantic, to have breakfast in Turkey, lunch in Greece, and be back on your Kaş sunbed by cocktail hour. How often can you say that?