There's nothing quite like stepping into Rose Valley at first light. I've walked this route probably a dozen times now, and it still stops me cold every single time. You leave Göreme before sunrise, follow the ridge trail east, and by the time you reach the fairy chimneys at the valley's heart, the rock has turned this impossible shade of dusty rose. No crowds. Just you, the wind, and occasionally a hot air balloon drifting silently overhead. The trail is about 7 kilometres and gentle enough that you can keep your eyes up instead of on your feet — which is exactly how it should be. Pack a thermos of çay. You'll thank me.

I'll be honest — this stretch nearly broke me the first time. The descent into Kabak is steep, your knees will know about it, and the August sun shows no mercy. But then you arrive at Kabak Bay and you understand exactly why people keep coming back. The water is the kind of turquoise that looks photoshopped but isn't. From there, the trail climbs again toward Alınca through pine forest and ancient tombs carved right into the cliff face. There's a small pansiyon at the end where the owner makes the best gözleme I've ever tasted. This 22-kilometre section of the Lycian Way is demanding, deeply beautiful, and completely unforgettable.

Most visitors to Turkey don't make it to Rize province, and honestly, that's part of the appeal. The Fırtına Valley is lush in a way that surprises people — you picture Turkey as sun-baked and arid, and then you find yourself walking under a canopy of chestnuts and hazelnuts, crossing Ottoman stone bridges over a roaring river, the air thick with mist. I follow the path from Ardeşen up through the valley to Ayder, stopping at every tea garden I pass because the locals will be offended if you don't. This is a slower walk. An ambling walk. The kind where you arrive later than planned and don't mind at all.

Ihlara is one of those places that rewards patience. Most people arrive by tour bus, walk the first kilometre, take photos at the carved Byzantine churches, and leave. Which means that if you continue down the gorge for the full 14 kilometres to Selime, you'll have the whole canyon to yourself by midday. The Melendiz River runs alongside the trail, cool and fast, and the walls of the gorge rise up on either side like a cathedral nobody built. Every so often you duck into a frescoed cave church and stand in silence, aware that monks were living here a thousand years ago, also seeking something quiet and true. I always leave Ihlara feeling calmer than when I arrived.

This is the walk I recommend to everyone who tells me they only have one day and want to understand what makes this country extraordinary. You start in Şirince — a restored Ottoman village that manages to stay charming despite the tourist trade — and you wind downhill through silver-green olive groves, past wildflower fields and the occasional grazing goat, until Ephesus rises out of the plain below you. There's a particular moment, about halfway down, where you crest a small hill and the ancient harbour street comes into view. It hits you that you are approaching one of the great cities of the ancient world on foot, the same way every trader and pilgrim did for centuries. The distance is about 9 kilometres. Bring good shoes and a lot of water. Arrive at Ephesus before the tour groups do.