Morning meanderings through Antalya's old quarter
I woke up early today, as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the wooden shutters of my Ottoman-era room. Despite being on day 191 of my journey, my body clock still operates like I'm heading to work—up by 6:30, regardless of having nowhere particular to be.
The boutique hotel in Kaleiçi is a fascinating blend of history and modern comfort. My room features stone walls that must have witnessed centuries of stories, yet I have perfectly functional Wi-Fi and a rainfall shower. After a quick breakfast on the hotel's terrace—fresh bread, olives, cheese, and the obligatory morning coffee—I set out to explore more of Antalya's old quarter.
I left at 8:20 for the Antalya Museum, which opens at 8:30. The walk took exactly eight minutes, leaving me standing outside the gates with my customary buffer time. The guard noticed me waiting and gave an amused smile as he unlocked the entrance two minutes early.
"You must be German or Northern European," he said in English. "Always on time."
I smiled and admitted to being Norwegian, which seemed to satisfy his cultural punctuality assessment.
The museum was nearly empty at this hour—just how I prefer it. I wandered through the halls of Roman statuary and ancient artifacts, marveling at how this region has been a crossroads of civilization for millennia. The collection of sarcophagi is particularly impressive, with intricate carvings telling stories of lives long past. One room contained pottery that reminded me of Hasan's workshop in Cappadocia, though these vessels were over 2,000 years old.
After two hours in the museum, I headed toward Konyaaltı Beach. The weather is mild today—about 12°C and sunny—not quite warm enough for swimming but perfect for walking. The beach stretches for kilometers, with the dramatic backdrop of mountains meeting the sea. I removed my shoes and let my feet sink into the cool pebbles, watching small waves lap against the shore. The Mediterranean has such a different character than the North Sea back home—gentler somehow, more inviting even in early March.
I found a small café overlooking the beach and ordered a Turkish coffee, which arrived thick and strong with a small glass of water on the side. As I sipped it, I noticed several local men playing backgammon at nearby tables, their concentration intense as they moved pieces with practiced precision.
A group of tourists arrived—Germans, I think—and I overheard them discussing the International Conference on Sustainable Transportation happening in the city today. It made me think about my own carbon footprint on this journey. Nearly 200 days of constant movement, flights, buses, trains... I try to offset where I can, but it's impossible to travel the world without impact.
I pulled out my notebook and jotted down some thoughts about sustainability and travel. Perhaps this is part of what I'm searching for on this journey—how to experience the world while helping preserve it for future generations. No answers yet, just questions.
It's nearly 11:00 now, and I'm back at the hotel. I plan to spend the afternoon exploring more of Kaleiçi's winding streets and visiting Düden Waterfalls. The hotel owner, Ahmet, recommended a seafood restaurant near the marina for dinner—apparently, they serve a sea bass baked in salt that's a local specialty.
Five days in Antalya feels right. After the otherworldly landscapes of Cappadocia, this coastal city offers a completely different perspective on Turkey. The contrast is striking—from inland rock formations to Mediterranean shores in just one day of travel. I'm glad I decided to include both in my journey.
309 days remaining. Sometimes that feels like forever, other times like it's slipping through my fingers too quickly. I wonder what version of myself will be boarding that flight home to Kristiansand next January.