Hurtling through the ink-black countryside, the 1980 Chevrolet Impala taxicab lurched around slow-moving trucks on the twisting two-lane road. Fortunately, I was in the back seat where, if I huddled down far enough, my view of both the speedometer and the road was obscured. This, plus a lively discussion with my backseat companions — Gwen, an expatriate sailboat owner, and Margo, an American journalist living in Germany — probably saved me from a nervous breakdown. Meanwhile, my husband, who later proclaimed our chauffeur to be a good albeit fast driver, struggled to converse with him even though the man spoke only Turkish.

We had all met minutes before in Turkey’s Dalaman Airport (DLM), where we were quickly whisked into the waiting cab. We were headed for the seaside city of Marmaris to begin our Turkish adventure aboard Gwen’s 75-foot, custom-built sailboat, Hellem Nooh.

Screeching to a halt, gravel spitting against the undercarriage, the cab arrived at our destination, Albatros Marina. The smiling driver hoisted our bags out of the trunk, and we walked down the dock to the boat.

Everything stowed below deck in our cabins, we met on the aft (the back, to landlubbers) deck. We collapsed in comfortable captain’s chairs as balmy Mediterranean breezes tickled our necks and stars twinkled merrily in the navy blue sky, while the lights of Marmaris provided the perfect backdrop for the swaying mast. As we raised our glasses of Champagne for a toast, we all agreed: It doesn’t get any better than this.

At dawn, I crawled onto the deck to investigate. Colorful wooden fishing boats glided by as the sun inched its way over the surrounding hills. From the bow of the boat, the distant, white-washed, hillside buildings of Marmaris seemed to tumble straight into the sea.

To give us a feel for the country, Gwen treated us to a typical Turkish breakfast. We wolfed down homemade yogurt, fresh fruit, fresh-baked Turkish bread, cherry jam and local white cheese. The only concession to America was the music, a collection of classic oldies from the 1960s and ’70s.

When the crew arrived, we set sail. Our skipper was a red-bearded New Zealander named Richard. His first mate was a lively Turkish girl named Arzu, who Margo dubbed “our own little Turkish delight.” They prepared to sail while we relaxed in comfortable deck chairs and enthused about the view.

The area we would be sailing through is known as the Turquoise Coast, and as we pulled into Dalayan Bay for lunch, we could see how they arrived at the name. The water is translucent turquoise, so clear that when I dove in for a quick swim, I could distinctly see the color of my toenail polish without sticking my foot out of the water.

“Okay, you lot, into the dinghy,” Gwen yelled to us from the deck. “It’s time to pick up lunch.” With Richard at the helm, we squeezed into the tiny boat and motored toward an idyllic-looking stretch of beach.

Though it seemed an unlikely spot for a fish market, for those in the know this is the place to purchase freshly caught blue crabs. Sure enough, a smiling woman baked brown by the sun appeared with full crab traps by her side. After she, Richard and Arzu — our ever-ready interpreter — settled on a price, the woman indicated that the money should go to her husband. Seated cross-legged under a shade tree on a handmade carpet, smoking a Turkish cigarette and drinking tea, he was clearly the CEO of the operation.

Back on the boat, Gwen boiled the crabs in water seasoned with dill, parsley and lemon; and we sat down for a feast of finger food.

The next morning we sailed in a drizzle; but by the time we stopped for lunch, the sun was shining. We anchored in a sheltered cove across from Gemiler Island. As we scanned the island’s cliffs, we made out the ruins of an ancient village almost obscured by a thick tangle of trees. Virtually ignored by guidebooks, this Byzantine town flourished during the fifth and sixth centuries.

Itching to explore, we pulled the dinghy up on Gemiler’s rocky beach and hiked up a steep path to the top of the island. Besides having a glorious view of the cove dotted with sailboats, the island was full of ruins.

An impressive basilica, with part of the dome intact and the cross of Justinian the Great still visible, set us speculating about the island’s early inhabitants. Bits of mosaics appeared underfoot, waiting for someone to brush away the centuries of dirt and expose more. We scrambled along a stone-arched corridor that ran down the hill to the sea, surprised that no information was available about this treasure-laden village.

Dolphins escorted our boat into Ruin Bay, nicknamed “Rickety Tickety” by Gwen, due to its unusual dock. The structure is made entirely from scraps, including pieces of painted wood, tree limbs and weathered boards.

We shared the dock with numerous gulets filled with German tourists. Gulets are spacious, broad-beamed, two-masted wooden charter boats of varying sizes which are generally motor-propelled. While not as intimate as our charter, these boats are popular in this part of the world.

We walked down the eccentric deck and went off to check out the ruins of Cleopatra’s Bath House. Legend has it that it was built for Cleopatra during one of her visits to the area because of a hot water spring in this part of the bay.

Gwen got a break from her cooking duties as we treated ourselves to dinner in the outdoor taverna. Under the stars we ate cold eggplant and tomato appetizers on hot bread followed by plates of fresh grilled tuna, spicy meatballs and cooked tomatoes, all accompanied by cold beer.

Since our waistbands were substantially tighter than when we started, we leapt at the suggestion of a hike the next morning. We climbed to an overlook exposing a white-sand beach bordered by pure turquoise water. Continuing on, we scrambled over gray shale rock and through a pine forest until we reached a dry, red-soil valley dotted with olive trees which eventually led to the ruins.

This Byzantine and Roman village, called Lydae or Chydae, sits on a headland overlooking the open sea — handy for spotting marauders. There were enough remains of the town’s two mausoleums, agora (marketplace and council chamber) and various houses to sense what it was like in its heyday.

In addition, the area is strewn with bits of history in the form of Corinthian columns, sarcophagi, plinths and ancient inscriptions. We were amazed that we could explore these rich archaeological sites uninterrupted by crowds or officials.

During the next few days, we sailed back up the coast. Margo and I scribbled down Gwen’s recipes for exotic dishes like “swooning imam” (stuffed eggplant) and boregi (baked phyllo dough stuffed with cheese, veggies or meat) while my husband basked in the sun, reading. At night, we anchored in sheltered coves and ate dinner by lantern light under the stars.

On our final day, we sailed into the Marmaris marina. As we walked down the dock toward town I was overcome by culture shock. The city has become a mecca for both boaters and party-goers and was bustling with tourists. We settled into a table at an outdoor restaurant in the marina and sipped on a cold beer while we watched the swaying masts.

Refreshed and somewhat adjusted to our new surroundings, we headed for the city’s bazaar to do a little shopping. Steeling ourselves for the typically aggressive Turkish shopkeepers, we picked up souvenirs and gifts in the fascinating maze of booths and shops. Then we stopped by a carpet shop. After purchasing a small carpet, my husband announced he’d like to have a traditional Turkish shave, so we proceeded to a local barber shop. Turkish shaves are quite a production, including many hot towels, shaving cream applied with an old-fashioned brush, a straight razor shave and, finally, ear hair singeing. Margo and I drank glasses of hot mint tea as we watched in fascination.

All too soon, it was time for the drive back to the airport. As we climbed into the taxi, I experienced the conflicting feelings that assail me at the end of every trip.

Though I had a terrific time and was taking home many happy memories, my Turkish adventure was over, and who knew if I’d ever come this way again?

Diversions

Marmaris has one of the world’s largest natural harbors, making it a magnet for the boating set. The harbor area is the place to hang out over a drink at one of the open-air restaurants; at night the bar scene can be intense. Crazy Daisy (Bar St. 121, tel 90 252 412 48 56) is a hot spot for the party set who want to dance ’til dawn.

Legend has it that Marmaris has had a castle since 3000 B.C., but today’s Marmaris Castle, which overlooks the harbor, dates from the 16th century and is currently a museum. For the younger set, there’s the Atlantis Waterpark (Uzunyali 203 Sokak, Siteler Marmaris, tel 90 252 412 64 86). There are slides, rides, a traditional swimming pool, a bowling alley and an Internet café.

You don’t have to be a shopper to enjoy the typical Turkish covered bazaar just off the seafront. It is a feast for the eyes and senses. Though some of the shopkeepers can be irritatingly persistent, it’s a much easier place to navigate than the bigger bazaars in major cities; and with a little bargaining, there are deals to be had in handicrafts, carpets, leather and jewelry.

Visitors with rental cars might consider a drive to the Mountain of Roses olive farm (Resadiye Mah. 30, Datça, tel 90 252 712 83 77) in Datça. The 100-acre olive grove produces olives, olive oils and beauty products and includes a 10-room guesthouse.

Boating Trips Along The Turquoise Coast

Gwen, the sailboat owner we traveled with, retired from the cruising business not long after our trip. The following outfits, however, offer similar itineraries.

Geographic Expeditions tel 415 922 0448 offers a 16-day cruising and walking tour of Turkey called Sailing the Sapphire Seas, which includes 10 days along the Turquoise Coast. Prices start at $5,595.

Boundless Journeys tel 802 253 4677 offers a 13-day tour of Turkey, which includes six days cruising the Coast. Prices start at $5,695. This company also offers private group departures for five to 11 people; prices depend on the group size.

Yachting in Turkey tel 90 232 421 80 02 located in Izmir, Turkey, is a charter company offering scheduled departure “Regular Yacht Cabin Cruises,” private crewed yacht charters for small groups and boat charters for those wishing to sail along the coast themselves. Prices depend on the size of the boat and the type of charter.

Dining

Ceasar Restaurant
One of the best in the marina area; friendly, with covered patio. Eclectic menu includes seafood linguine, Albanian liver, steamed fish curry. Yacht Harbour, Mugla, $$$

Natalie’s Steak House
The place for carnivores looking for a steak fix — there’s a humongous 32-ounce T-bone. Also boasts award-winning Italian and Turkish wines and a harbor view. Uzunyalı Blvd. 32, Marmaris, tel 90 252 413 93 14, $$$

Ney Restaurant
Hidden up some steps in a 200-year-old house with open-air patio. Savor traditional Turkish dishes such as boregi (eggroll-like pastry) and mucver (zucchini pancake). 26 Sokak 24, Marmaris, tel 90 252 412 02 17 $$