Fethiye
II.II.III
FETHIYE
Bright and early, we woke up to catch yet another flight. Our next destination would be Fethiye – a laid-back coastal town on Turkey’s Turquoise Coast, aptly named after the colour of its waters.
Perhaps what struck me the most was how reminiscent the town felt of certain villages I’d encountered during my travels in Latin America and Nepal. I can’t quite put my finger on why – the roads here are clean and well maintained, and nowhere near as chaotic as those places – but it was just the vibe I got. Maybe it was just my travelling withdrawals acting up.
We didn’t really have much time to wander the streets. As soon as we landed, we rented a car – which Rohan would be driving – and headed straight to a villa Akash had booked for us. It was huge. And super fancy. We even had a pool, though no one dared jump in given how cold it was. Still, it felt good to bathe in a bit of luxury.
So far, this holiday had been everything I needed and then some. It had been just a few days since we left and I already felt like a brand new person. Work had really been doing a number on me and I only realised that once it got to be too much. I swore I’d never let it get that bad ever again.
Up next was yet another adventure that would have me flying high. Quite literally. With Rohan and me being the adventurous duo and the rest of the group leaning more towards the Modern Housewives lifestyle, we made our way to Mount Babadağ. Here, we’d be embarking on one of Fethiye’s most unforgettable experiences – paragliding.
Having done this back in Colombia and again in Nepal, I was thrilled at the idea of floating midair while gazing at the stunning vistas below. Rohan had his reservations about being flung down a hill into the big grand nothing, given it was his first time, but by the end of my pep talk, he was more excited than I was. And for good reason. After the usual ‘run, jump, sit’ routine, I found myself dangling in the sky – the gorgeous Ölüdeniz lagoon glowing an unreal shade of blue, framed by curving beaches and dense pine forests spilling down the mountainsides. I felt so damn grateful to be up there!
After a gentle landing on the beach, Rohan could hardly contain his excitement. He was just like a kid – and while I could absolutely relate, I couldn’t quite join in. The flight had been smooth and surprisingly calm, and once I’d taken it all in, I asked my guide to perform the aerial acrobatics I’d been dying to relive ever since my experience in Nepal. And lemme tell ya, it was great for my spirits, but so, so terrible for my stomach. I spent hours on the brink of hurling my guts out.
We met up with the others for lunch – and an impromptu dance rehearsal for a TikTok reel Priya wanted to post – before heading off on another archaeological adventure. First up were the Lycian Rock Tombs.
The Lycians were an ancient civilisation that inhabited Turkey’s southwest coast from around the 15th century BC until they were absorbed into the Roman world. They lived in a rugged region known as Lycia, stretching from modern-day Fethiye to Antalya, and developed a culture distinct from their Greek and Persian neighbours. Notably, the Lycian League functioned as a federation of cities with a representative voting system, an early form of democracy that later impressed Roman thinkers.
They’re best known for their unique burial practices. Believing the soul was carried to the afterlife by winged beings. For this reason, the Lycians carved tombs high into cliffs or placed them on elevated ground. Tombs here could be either simple chambers or feature ornate, temple-like façades and stone sarcophagi. These tombs, along with ruins at sites like Xanthos and Patara, remain some of the most striking reminders of a civilisation deeply shaped by its landscape and beliefs.
Following this, we headed to Kayaköy, an abandoned hillside village near Fethiye, often referred to as a ghost town.
Once a thriving Greek settlement known as Levissi, it was left empty after the 1923 population exchange between Greece and Turkey forced its inhabitants to relocate. Today, hundreds of roofless stone houses, churches, and schools cascade down the slopes, slowly being reclaimed by nature. Here, paths wind between crumbling homes, fig trees grow through collapsed walls, and the only sounds are wind and insects. It was eerily quiet, as if frozen in time – a powerful reminder of displacement, loss, and the ruthless passage of time.
Wandering through the ruins felt like roaming the remains of Shandora – an ancient city found on a sky island in One Piece. Man, what I wouldn’t give to visit a friggin’ sky island…
Our final stop was Butterfly Valley – a dramatic, secluded gorge along the coast, framed by towering cliffs that plunge straight into turquoise water. Here, we finally got to rest a bit as the sun set – a veil of soft, golden light draping itself over the landscape.
I figured this would be an incredibly intimate place to bring a date. That sudden burst of romanticism was probably inspired by all the stolen glances Priya and I had been sharing throughout the day. I knew she reciprocated my attraction. I just knew it.
The more I got to know her, the more I liked her. She was incredibly passionate about her work. She was an exceptional actress, and she knew it – though she also worked relentlessly to maintain that edge. She might have a bit of a diva attitude, sure, but that’s probably cause no one ever calls her out on it. I did – something she seemed to find intriguing. I didn’t fall for the princess-like exterior everyone else seemed subdued by. Instead, I felt like I could see right through her. I could make her happy.
I could picture us together. A Bollywood actress and a successful neurosurgeon. Sure, we’d be living half the world away from each other, but we’d make it work. Eventually, I’d move to India, and we’d live happily ever after. The stuff of fairy tales, right?
And that’s all it was ever gonna be. I rarely find anyone stimulating enough to truly pique my interest – and on the off-chance I do, I let my heart take over and start spinning these incredible, movie-like stories in my head. But life isn’t a movie, nor a fairy tale.