Thirty years after she first visited, our writer is relieved to discover that the town has managed to swerve the worst excesses of tourist development My favourite memory of Akyaka? The second evening of our most recent visit: the beach floodlit by the last embers of a flaming sunset, the mountains that stand sentry around the town softening into deep purple hues. Before our eyes, all was transformed: sunloungers stacked away, waiters whisking back and forth with tables, menus and small rechargeable lamps. A little further along, in one of the bar areas on the beach, a trio of Turkish women, their hair in shades of pepper and smoke, sat with their toes in the sand, happily knitting. I recalled other beaches in Turkey, where oligarchs and influencers preen and pose, and thought – yes, this is exactly where I want to be. Akyaka – a small town, huddled on the eastern end of blue-washed Gökova Bay – is an old friend of mine. Thirty years ago, working as a holiday rep, I visited on a weekly basis, popping in to see the handful of clients who were staying at simple pansiyons (small B&Bs) in the town. Back then … well, actually, back then it wasn’t that different from today, which is something that can’t be said about many of the Turkish villages and small resorts I knew in the mid-1990s. Continue reading...