Phocaea

Listen first. Small waves slap against the stones of the harbour, and fishing boats knock gently at their moorings. The air smells of salt, diesel, and grilled fish from the waterfront. Under your feet, the ground looks ordinary, just pavement, rock, and the low walls of a quiet Aegean town. But beneath modern Foça lies Phocaea, an ancient Greek city whose sailors once reached the far end of the Mediterranean.

Phocaea was one of the twelve cities of Ionia. Ionia was the name the ancient Greeks gave to this stretch of the western Anatolian coast and its islands. Cities like Miletus and Ephesus belonged to the same league. Phocaea was smaller than many of its neighbours. It had little farmland behind it and a rocky coastline in front. So its people turned to the sea, and the sea made them famous.

The Greek historian Herodotus wrote about the Phocaeans in the fifth century before Christ. He said they were the first Greeks to make long sea voyages. He also wrote that they sailed in fast warships with fifty oars, not in the round, slow merchant ships that other traders used. These were serious vessels for open water. With them, Phocaean crews explored the Adriatic, the coasts of Italy, and the shores of Spain.

Here is the first surprise. Around 600 BC, sailors from this harbour founded a colony in what is now southern France. They called it Massalia. Today we know it as Marseille, the second city of France. So when you stand on this waterfront, you are standing at one of the starting points of that great port. Phocaeans also founded settlements on Corsica and in southern Italy, including the town of Elea.

Now look at the shape of the bay. Two natural harbours sit side by side, separated by a rocky headland. This gave ancient sailors shelter in almost any wind. It is one reason a small city could become a sea power. The headland and the offshore rocks still frame the view today. If you walk along the water, you can see how the town wraps itself around these sheltered curves.

The city's name likely connects to the Greek word for seal, phoce. Ancient Phocaean coins sometimes carried the image of a seal. And here is a second surprise. Mediterranean monk seals, one of the rarest seals in the world, still live along this coast. The rocky islets offshore, sometimes called the Siren Rocks, are part of their protected habitat. Seeing one is rare, but the animal on the old coins never fully left these waters.

The most dramatic story about Phocaea comes from the sixth century before Christ. The Persian Empire was spreading across Anatolia, and a Persian army arrived at the city walls. According to Herodotus, the Phocaeans did not surrender. Instead, they loaded their families, their goods, and even the statues from their temples onto their ships. Then they sailed away, leaving the empty city to the Persians.

Herodotus adds a powerful detail. Before leaving, the Phocaeans threw a lump of iron into the sea. They swore never to return until that iron rose back to the surface. It was a vow that could not be broken by nature. Yet, as the story goes, more than half of them soon grew homesick. They broke their oath and sailed back to this harbour. Whether every detail is true or not, the tale has lasted for two and a half thousand years.

The city did not disappear after the Persians. It lived on through the Hellenistic, Roman, and Byzantine periods. Archaeologists have uncovered remains of a temple dedicated to Athena, the goddess of wisdom, on the headland. They have also found an ancient theatre, among the older theatres known in Anatolia. Much of the ancient city still lies beneath the houses around you. Excavation here is slow, because people live on top of the past.

Later centuries added new layers. In the late Middle Ages, merchants from Genoa, the Italian trading republic, controlled the town. They were interested in alum, a mineral used to fix colours when dyeing cloth. Alum was valuable across Europe, and mines lay inland from here. After the Genoese came the Ottomans. Pieces of later fortifications still stand along the waterfront, showing how the town kept defending the same harbour against new threats.

A few kilometres outside the town stands another monument worth knowing. It is a stone tomb carved from the bedrock, locally called Taşkule, which means stone tower. It dates to the period when Persia ruled this coast. Its design mixes local and Persian styles. Standing beside it, you feel how this land sat between worlds, Greek and Persian, sea and inland, for many centuries.

Back in town, notice the old stone houses near the water. Many have tall windows, wooden shutters, and upper floors that lean slightly over the narrow streets. They reflect the Greek and Turkish families who shared this town until the early twentieth century. The streets are narrow because they follow very old paths. In the evening, chairs come out onto the pavement, and the smell of the sea mixes with coffee and jasmine.

So take a moment here, before you walk on. Look at the line of the headland and the small islands beyond. These are the same shapes that the Phocaean sailors saw as they rowed out toward Italy, France, and Spain. Their ships are gone, and most of their city lies hidden. But the harbour still shelters boats, and the town still looks to the sea. As you leave, listen again to the water against the stones.