Eternal Flames of the Chimera

I can’t tell if Turkey is an amazing place to be at this moment in time or not. Unlike Albania and Serbia, pandemic rules here are quite restrictive. There is a curfew in place and a complete ban on dining at restaurants. On the other hand, the sky is sunny, the sea is warm and the amazing archeological sites along the Mediterranean coast feel truly abandoned with no one but us exploring them.

Mount Olympus of Lycia, one of many mountains of the classical era named for the home of the Gods, is the background to the ancient and overgrown ruins of the city of Olympos. Built over a small river flowing through forested mountains and into the turquoise sea, the setting is more impressive than the ruins themselves.

The people who lived here thousands of years ago worshipped Haphaestos, the god of forge and fire. It would have been difficult to live here and not appreciate the power of this god when you live under a mountain that has been on fire for thousands of years.

These are the eternal flames of Mount Chimera, named for the mythological fire breathing beast with three heads that originated here. With a lion head at the front, a goat head protruding from its back and a serpent head on its tail, the ancient Greeks debated whether the Chimera was a real creature that roamed the mountains of Lycia or just a metaphor for nature, with lions dominating the remote mountain tops, goats grazing the middle slopes and snakes at the base. The sailors in passing ships could see the burning fires dotting the mountain and may have imagined the Chimera wandering its slopes, leaving fires in its wake.

The kids and I hiked up a steep path through the thick forests of Mount Chimera as the sun slowly dropped behind the mountains. Seeing the flames shooting up from the ground, the kids sprinted ahead to go see and NG assaulted me with a stream of questions as the light of the flames danced over her excited expression. I was impressed as well.

Flames burst out of the ground all over the mountain and they have been burning continuously for millennia. This is due to chemical reactions deep in the earth that produce pressurized natural gases. The effect is like having free gas stoves spread out all over the place.

The piney mountain air contained a pleasant hint of propane. This, along with the campfire feeling of the flaming mountainside, was reminiscent of camping and barbecues. My stomach growled and I imagined how great it would have been if we had brought marshmallows.

We hiked back to the village by the light of a full moon. Our cabin is surrounded by groves of pomegranates and oranges that hang heavily from the branches. The owner told us to pick whatever we want and the kids seemed happy to feast on nothing but fruit. But with little else to eat at home, we drove to a small market nearby. There are a couple of restaurants as well, but they were closed.

Going to a restaurant in Turkey, we have found, is like trying to buy drugs. In Antalya, on our second day in Turkey, I noticed a man standing on the sidewalk watching me as I approached. He looked up and down the street and then came over to me. “Psst. You looking for a restaurant?” That was our last meal in a restaurant as we just haven’t found anything open since then.

On our drive down the coast we stopped at a roadside cafe where the owner nervously had us sit at a table in the back next to the kitchen. After a few minutes, a police car, lights flashing, pulled up to the restaurant. The owner abandoned the roasting kebab and frying fish. “Go hide now,” he told us. Tola and the kids huddled by the bathroom and I ducked down behind the table, but the police still saw us. Either way, the smell of cooking food would be hard to hide.

The owner returned to finish cooking and told us we needed to pretend that we ordered the food as take away. The police stood watching as we waited. The owner brought us the food in boxes and the police still watched. So our meal became take away and, mouths watering, we got back in our car and left with no place to eat.

It’s fortunate that we travel with our own private chef. On this occasion at our cabin in the mountains she cooked us a magnificent meal of spaghetti goat bolognese as the kids told her about the eternal flames of the Chimera.

The next day she wanted to go see for herself.

This time we leave the kids at home and hike high into the mountains where we see endless forests and mountains on one side and endless coast on the other. The flame vents reach the very top of the mountain. A ring of small birds is gathered around a flame. They scatter as I approach.

Further down the mountain, a cat is curled up asleep next to a warm flame. A local is using another one to barbecue some meat.

This might have been a paradise for prehistoric people. There is always a warm fire nearby. No need to invent it!

The remnants of an ancient temple lie scattered around the lower flames, the marble blocks blackened by fire in some places. This would have been a temple to Hephaestus where people may have offered sacrifices at the eternal flame for the god. The marble altar now provides a comfortable bench on which to sit while warming oneself over the fire.

Later, during the Byzantine era, a church was built over the ruins of the temple. This too now lies in ruin. Only the flames remain.