Heraclea Pontica

Listen first. Gulls call over the harbour, and somewhere a ship's horn sounds across the water. The Black Sea wind carries salt and a faint mineral smell from the steelworks along the shore. Under your feet, the modern streets of Karadeniz Ereğli climb toward a green headland. Almost nothing you see looks ancient at first glance. Yet you are standing on one of the oldest Greek cities on this coast, and its name never left. Ereğli is simply what centuries of speech made of Heraclea, the city of Heracles.

The city began as a colony in the sixth century before Christ. Settlers came from Megara, a Greek city near Athens, and ancient writers say Boeotians from central Greece joined them. They chose this spot with care. The headland gave shelter from the open sea. The hills behind gave timber, and the plains gave grain. For Greek sailors working the long, stormy Black Sea coast, a safe harbour here was worth a great deal.

The land was not empty when they arrived. A local people called the Mariandyni lived here already. Over time, the Greeks reduced many of them to a kind of bonded labour on the land. Ancient authors compared their position to that of the helots of Sparta — people who worked the fields but were not free citizens. It is an uncomfortable part of the story, but it shaped the city's wealth for centuries.

Now for the legend that gave the city its name. According to Greek myth, Heracles performed twelve great labours. The last and hardest was to bring Cerberus, the three-headed dog that guarded the underworld, up into the light. Locals and ancient writers alike claimed that Heracles went down into Hades through a cave on this very peninsula. That is why the Greeks named the place after him.

The story continues in a darker way. Legend has it that when Cerberus came out into daylight, the dog was furious. Foam fell from its jaws onto the ground. Where the foam landed, a poisonous plant grew — aconite, also called wolfsbane. Ancient writers really did connect this coast with aconite, and the plant does grow in the region. So here, a myth and a real flower meet on the same hillside.

You can visit caves on the edge of town that carry this legend today. They are known in Turkish as Cehennemağzı, which means the Mouth of Hell. Inside, the air turns cool and damp, and the light drops quickly. Here is a surprise many visitors miss: in later centuries, Christians used part of the cave system as a place of worship. The gateway to the pagan underworld became a sacred Christian space.

Heraclea grew rich and confident. It became a mother city itself, sending out colonists of its own. Its most famous daughter was Chersonesus, on the Crimean peninsula across the sea. Heraclean settlers also helped found Callatis, on what is now the Romanian coast. Think about that for a moment. This harbour was once a hub, with ships and families moving outward across the entire Black Sea.

In the fourth century before Christ, the city took an unusual political turn. A man named Clearchus seized power and ruled as a tyrant. What makes him striking is his education. Ancient sources say he had studied in Athens under the philosopher Plato. A student of the man who wrote about the ideal, just ruler became a harsh dictator — and he was eventually assassinated. Philosophy, it seems, did not guarantee good government.

The city also produced real thinkers. Heraclides Ponticus, whose name simply means Heraclides from the Pontus, was born here and also studied with Plato. Some later writers credit him with the idea that the Earth turns on its own axis each day. Another son of the city, Memnon, wrote a long history of Heraclea. Most of it is lost, but a summary survives, and much of what we know about this place comes from it.

One of the most remarkable rulers was a woman named Amastris. She was a Persian princess, a niece of the last Persian king Darius the Third. She married into the ruling family of Heraclea and later governed in her own right. She went on to found a new city along the coast, which carried her name. Today that town is called Amasra, and its name still echoes hers, just as Ereğli echoes Heracles.

Heraclea's long independence ended with Rome. In the first century before Christ, the city sided with Mithridates, a powerful king of the Black Sea region who fought Rome. A Roman army besieged Heraclea, and the city was captured and plundered. It recovered slowly. Later it became part of the Byzantine world, the Greek-speaking eastern continuation of the Roman Empire, and later still part of the Ottoman lands.

As you walk, look for fragments rather than grand ruins. Stretches of old wall and the remains of a castle rise on the higher ground. Ancient stones sometimes appear reused in later buildings, a column here, a carved block there. Modern Ereğli was built on top of the ancient city, so most of Heraclea lies under homes, shops and roads. The town's museum holds finds from the area, and it helps to see them before or after exploring outside.

Before you leave, turn back toward the water. The harbour that sheltered Megarian ships still shelters vessels today, though now they carry steel instead of grain and wine. The headland still breaks the wind. The caves still breathe cool air. Every time someone in this town says the word Ereğli, they are saying the old name of Heracles without thinking about it. Listen for it as you walk away — a Greek hero, still living in everyday speech.