Ankara Castle

Put your hand on the wall beside you. The stone is dark, rough, and cool, even on a warm afternoon. Somewhere below, a car horn sounds. Closer by, a cat moves along a ledge and a shopkeeper calls out to a neighbour. The wind up here carries the smell of roasting nuts and woodsmoke. You are standing on the oldest part of Ankara, a rocky hill that people have defended for well over two thousand years.

This is Ankara Castle, known in Turkish as Ankara Kalesi. It sits in the district of Altındağ, the historic heart of the city. Today Ankara is a capital of ministries and wide boulevards. But the city did not begin down there. It began right here, on this volcanic outcrop. The hill rises steeply above the plain, and that height made it a natural fortress long before anyone built walls.

The story of this hill reaches back to the ancient world. A Celtic people called the Galatians settled this part of central Anatolia in the third century before Christ. Later, Rome absorbed the region, and the town became Ancyra, a provincial capital. Down the hill, in the Ulus neighbourhood, the Temple of Augustus still stands. Its walls carry a long Latin and Greek inscription in which the first Roman emperor lists his own achievements.

The walls you see now are mostly Byzantine. The Byzantines were the eastern Roman Empire, ruling from Constantinople, today's Istanbul. In the seventh century, this region suffered attacks from Persian armies and later from Arab forces. The city shrank, and its people pulled back inside a smaller, stronger circuit of walls on the hilltop. The castle has two main rings — an outer wall and an inner citadel — and both grew out of those dangerous centuries.

Now look closely at the stones. This is the first surprise most visitors miss. Mixed into the dark rubble, you will find pale blocks of marble. Some are carved. Some carry fragments of Greek letters. Some are pieces of old columns, laid sideways like logs. The builders took material from the ruined Roman city below and fitted it into the defences. Historians call this reused material spolia. The walls of the castle are, in a sense, a museum of the city that came before.

In the ninth century, a Byzantine emperor named Michael the Third ordered repairs to the fortifications. Inscriptions in the walls record this work. Later, the Seljuk Turks arrived in Anatolia after the eleventh century, and control of Ankara passed between rival powers for some time. Eventually the Ottomans held the city. Each ruler patched, rebuilt, and adapted the walls. That is why the masonry changes from one stretch to the next, like pages written in different hands.

As you climb, you pass the towers. There are many of them along the walls, square and pentagonal shapes that push out from the line of stone. Their purpose was simple. From a projecting tower, defenders could shoot along the face of the wall at anyone trying to climb it. At the very top of the citadel stands the tower called Ak Kale, which means the White Castle. From there, the view opens in every direction.

Inside the inner walls is the second surprise. This is not an empty ruin. It is a living neighbourhood. Narrow lanes twist between old houses with wooden frames, plastered walls, and upper floors that lean out over the street. Laundry hangs from windows. Children play on the cobbles. Some houses have become cafés and small restaurants, with low cushions and carpets. Others are still family homes, and people have lived inside these walls for generations.

Within the citadel you can also find the Alaeddin Mosque, a small mosque linked to the Seljuk period. Its interior has a carved wooden pulpit, and reused ancient columns stand inside. If you visit, remember that this is an active place of worship. Dress modestly, remove your shoes at the entrance, and avoid prayer times if you only want to look around. Stepping inside, you notice how quiet it is compared with the lanes outside.

The streets below the castle have their own character. For centuries, this area was a market for trade, and Ankara was well known for the fine wool of the Angora goat. That wool is called mohair. Today the slopes are full of shops selling dried fruit, walnuts, spices, copper pots, and carpets. Shopkeepers often sit in their doorways, drinking tea from small tulip-shaped glasses. Many will happily talk, even if you are only browsing.

At the foot of the hill stands the Museum of Anatolian Civilizations. It occupies restored Ottoman market buildings, and it holds objects from the Stone Age through the Hittite and Phrygian periods. Nearby, an old caravan inn now houses a museum of industry and transport. If you have time, these places add context to what you see here. The hill was never isolated. It was always the top of a long story that spread down into the valley.

From the top of the walls, look out across the city. You can see how modern Ankara spreads far beyond this hill. In 1923, the new Turkish Republic made Ankara its capital, and the small market town grew into a large modern city. The distance between old and new is easy to see from here. Below are red tile roofs and minarets. Beyond them are apartment blocks, towers, and hills that fade into haze.

Before you leave, stand still for a moment. Feel the uneven stone under your feet, worn smooth by centuries of steps. Listen to the city below — the traffic, the calls to prayer, the voices in the lanes. As you walk down, keep looking at the walls. Look for a carved marble block, a broken column, or a line of old letters. Each one is a small piece of the city that once stood here, and it is still part of the wall today.