The village of Kaş(Pronounced kosh, rhymes with gosh) has been named one of the 52 Places to Go in 2015 by the New York Times. Ranked #52, they characterize it as a gem... While the nearby town of Kalkan has fallen victim to hordes of hard-partying Brits (many a Kalkan restaurant now serves "Full English" brekkies), the old fishing village of Kaş remains relatively untouched. Known largely as a divers’ paradise, the city has a hippyish sensibility, partly owing to a number of jazz-playing waterfront watering holes.
How could we resist?
‘no question that Kaş feels more authentically everyday Turkish than Kalkan: more everyday shops, a working feel to the waterfront, and a different tourist vibe. Where Kalkan is dominated by families and older couples, Kaş harbours more 20-something groups and young marrieds. The café’s feel a bit grittier, the slopes a bit steeper and rockier over town. I never did find the jazz, although there was some great food, a good bar, and a very weird beach.
The local bus (the dolmus) may be the cheapest way to Kaş, but it is also the hottest and requires the longest vertical climb. Halfway up, we opt’d for a taxi, roughly 50 tl each way (£12). discounted for booking the round trip. The coast drive is great, a good view of the Turkish and Greek islands just offshore and the local beaches dotting the steep coves.
The driver left us at the harbour entrance, next to a narrow strip of gardens and café’s that passes for the local tourist area. A quick pass through the flowered streets brought us to Sempati Restaurant, a lovely spot for (more) meze, meatballs, rice pudding, and (still more) Efes. Hidden back in an alleyway, it’s surrounded by art and textile shops, a refuge from the midday sun and heat.
A wander along the harbour shore brought nice breezes and views of the anchorages; a short climb deposited us at the upper entrance to the Cinarlar Beach Café. We wandered in and down among the tables, winding along a beige stone cliff, down around some huts, some platforms, some crowds, some-thing unexpected.
I’m not sure how best to describe this. Imagine a narrow steep cove, ocean lapping up onto a sandy beach at the bottom. Up the sides of the cliffs are wooden platforms, and each platform is covered with lounge chairs, filled with people sunning themselves. As far as you can see, up and down the cove and the coast beyond, are arrays of small platforms, filled with people. The lower ones are used for diving, the blue waters filled with bobbing heads riding the swells up and down. Waiters scurry about delivering drinks; young boys stage diving competitions off the rocks. It’s just amazing to sit and watch the whole crowded, water-loving, sun-worshipping scene..
The competition for lounge chairs was as fierce as the story, the main difference being the blue waters throughout.
A little (more) beer, some people-watching, mugging in the sun, and it felt like we’d pretty well done Kaş. It take a little time to settle into the vibe and I’d still recommend Kalkan as a sleepover destination, but the town has it’s charms.
and it’s Nutches.