Cyzicus

Listen first. Wind moves through olive trees, a tractor hums somewhere across the fields, and maybe a dog barks from a farmhouse. Under your feet, the ground is soft earth and broken stone. It does not look like much at first glance. Yet you are standing in what was once one of the great cities of the ancient world. Its name was Cyzicus, and for more than a thousand years, people from across the Mediterranean knew it well.

Look at the land around you. The ruins sit at the narrow neck of the Kapıdağ Peninsula, between the modern towns of Bandırma and Erdek. In ancient times, this peninsula was described as an island, joined to the mainland by bridges or a causeway. Over the centuries, silt and sand filled the channels. Today the island is no longer an island. The city sat exactly on that join, with harbours on either side. That position gave Cyzicus its power.

Ancient writers said the city was founded by Greek colonists from Miletus, a powerful trading city on the Aegean coast of what is now Turkey. Milesians founded dozens of colonies around the Sea of Marmara and the Black Sea. They chose places like this one: sheltered water, good soil, and control of a sea route. Ships moving between the Aegean and the Black Sea passed close by. A city here could watch them, trade with them, and tax them.

The Greeks also gave this place a myth. According to the legend of Jason and the Argonauts, the heroes landed here on their voyage to find the Golden Fleece. A local king named Cyzicus welcomed them. But the ship was blown back in the night, and in the darkness, the Argonauts and the king's people fought without recognising each other. The king was killed. It is a sad story, and the city carried his name ever after.

Now for the first surprise. Cyzicus was famous for its money. The city struck coins in electrum, a natural mix of gold and silver. These coins are known today as Cyzicene staters. For a long period in the classical age, they worked almost like an international currency. Merchants around the Black Sea and the Aegean accepted them. Each coin carried a tuna fish, the symbol of the city, alongside a changing image. Museums around the world now hold examples.

That tuna is not a random choice. The waters of the Marmara were rich in fish, and tuna migrated through these straits in great numbers. Fishing and salting fish brought steady wealth. So when you think of Cyzicus, think of harbours full of boats, salt in the air, and traders counting golden coins on the quayside. The sea that you can glimpse from the higher ground here was the city's real treasury.

Wealth attracts war. In 410 BC, during the long war between Athens and Sparta, a major sea battle took place near Cyzicus. The Athenian commander Alcibiades surprised the Spartan fleet and won a decisive victory. Centuries later, in the first century before Christ, King Mithridates of Pontus besieged the city. The people of Cyzicus held out, and a Roman army under the general Lucullus came to relieve them. Rome remembered that loyalty, and the city prospered under Roman rule.

The Roman period left the most visible ruins. The largest of them was a vast temple linked to the emperor Hadrian, built in the second century. Ancient sources praised it as one of the most impressive buildings of its time, and some writers counted it among the wonders of the world. Earthquakes later brought it down. Today you see scattered blocks, foundations, and fragments of carved marble. Try to picture enormous columns rising above the fields where farmers now work.

Here is the second surprise. Look for the remains of the Roman amphitheatre, the oval arena where crowds watched games and shows. Its arches were built across a small stream. Some historians think the stream could be used to flood the arena. That idea is debated, so treat it carefully. But standing near those broken arches, with water still running below, you can understand why people tell the story.

The local people have their own name for these ruins. Many call the area Belkıs, after the Queen of Sheba in local tradition. Nobody claims she ever came here. It is simply what villagers called the old stones, perhaps because such huge buildings seemed to belong to a legendary queen. There is also a popular tradition that marble from Cyzicus was carried to Constantinople and reused in later churches. Ancient cities often became quarries, so the story is believable, even if individual pieces are hard to trace.

Cyzicus faded slowly. Earthquakes struck again and again across the late Roman and Byzantine centuries. Harbours silted up. Trade routes changed, and people moved to safer or newer towns along the coast. The great city became a village, then fields with stones in them. Archaeologists have worked here in recent decades, and excavations continue to bring new walls, streets, and objects to light. Much of the city still lies under the soil you are walking on.

As you move around, pay attention to the textures. You will see neat blocks of cut stone next to rough rubble and brick. Different builders, in different centuries, repaired and reused what was already here. Grass and wild plants grow through the gaps. In spring, the fields turn green and bright with flowers. In summer, the earth is dry and pale, and cicadas fill the air. The ruins look different in every season, and each one shows something new.

Before you leave, stop for a moment. Turn toward the water, then toward the hills of the peninsula behind you. This narrow strip of land once held temples, markets, harbours, and tens of thousands of lives. Now it holds olive trees, quiet farm roads, and a few broken arches. As you walk back to the road, look down now and then. A fragment of pottery or a worked stone might be lying in the dust... a small piece of the city that once stood here.