The guide's minivan eases away from Antalya just after dawn. Citrus groves and low hills blur past as the Mediterranean sun climbs and the day opens with stone—columns, steps and an amphitheater that still breathes sound. At Perge you step off the bus into a Roman street where carved thresholds and column drums keep their cool in the shade; at Aspendos the theatre's stones throw long, perfect shadows that show why music still fits inside these walls. Later, the forest hush of Kursunlu wraps visitors in pine-scented air and water that insists on moving, cascading over stepped ledges into pools the color of fresh coin.