Kaş is a whitewashed harbour town on the Mediterranean coast of Türkiye that never fully separated from the Lycian city underneath it. Antiphellos began as the port of an inland town and outgrew its parent, and its sarcophagi still stand at street corners. In the middle of Uzun Çarşı, the old bazaar street, the King's Tomb holds its ground: a fourth-century-BC sarcophagus with a high pointed lid and lion heads carved into the stone. Café tables press up to its base. Nobody knows whether a king was ever inside; the name comes from the lions. Its long verse epitaph is in Milyan, an old Lycian dialect nobody has deciphered. An English traveller counted more than a hundred tombs here in 1840; most were later broken up for building stone as the town spread.
The water at the town's door does something unusual. A few hundred metres out the bottom is already far below anything you can see, with no current and almost no swell over it. That is why freedivers set their lines here, and why the world championship came in 2022. Your first descent on a rope is weightless and very quiet, with the surface shrinking overhead. The same depth keeps other things. A C-47 Dakota, retired from the Turkish army and deliberately sunk in 2009, lies intact on the seabed with both engines still in place. Near it a full-size replica of the Uluburun wreck stands in for the real Bronze Age ship, which lies far too deep to visit. Among the cargo raised from that ship was a gold scarab carrying Nefertiti's name, the only one ever found. You swim off the rocks at Küçük and Büyük Çakıl, the small and big pebble coves, down ladders bolted into the stone. And a few minutes west of the square sits a small Hellenistic theatre of twenty-six rows that never had a stage building. From the top row the stage in front of you is the open bay, with the Greek island of Meis on the horizon, twenty minutes off by ferry.