Seeking tranquility in southwest Turkey

Who's booking a holiday in Turkey this year? With big name travel companies like Mark Warner pulling out of the country following terrorist attacks in Istanbul and Ankara, prices are on the slide and there's value to be had in package deals, particularly from the UK. At Ilios Travel, a UK company specialising in Turkish villas and hotels, Lucy Cook is being realistic about the kind of customer it is likely to sell to this year: bargain hunters and repeat customers are the only ones booking right now.

To date the majority of attacks in Turkey have taken place in the south and east of the country and in Ankara and Istanbul. There has been little disturbance in the southwest and it was here that we holidayed last September, in a resort where most of the guests have been coming for years – and in some cases decades. The resort was on the Bozburen Peninsula, in an area dubbed the Turkish Riviera. It didn’t feel remotely like the French Riviera. There were more cows on the beach than people some days, and the hinterland was wild and mountainous – think dust tracks rather than corniche roads.

We were headed to the entrancing-sounding Dionysos Hotel, named after the ancient god of wine and fertility.The Monarch flight to Dalaman was packed and the atmosphere was relaxed and giggly. It hadn't taken a lot of persuading to take up the offer of a week in a boutique hotel that promised mountain treks, a beachside café, organic food from its own farm and early morning yoga. All we had to do was to find our own way there.

Arriving mid-morning, the welcome blast of heat on the tarmac soon turned stifling as we hurtled off on a two-hour taxi ride through fairly featureless suburban and highway landscapes, passing endless outdoor restaurants with tables set under trees. Everywhere there were posters of Kemal  Atatürk, founder of the Turkish state, and crescent and star flags flying from balconies and windows.We passed through Marmaris, a large resort with depressing stretches of shops selling designer knock-off, and English pubs touting fish and chips and football games.

After Marmaris the road wound around the bay past Icmeler, a series of opulent-looking hotels and apartments jutting towards the water favoured by Russians. Signs flew by for Turunc, a mini Marmaris far below the road with a string of restaurants looking out to sea. Finally, we reached Dionysos, a mountain eyrie where a village of terracotta roofed houses is not a village at all, but a hotel carved into the rocks, the rooms terracotta-roofed bungalows looking out over Kumbuluk Bay and the Taros Mountains.

A flight of steps took us directly down to the poolside bar where we were welcomed by the owners, Rin and Ahmet Senon, who looked cool as a breeze in light linens. Mid-September is heading towards low season, but it's still pushing 30 degrees, and cold drinks are called for before we head back up to our room, which has its own little terrace and a front door guarded by the Nazar, a blue eye-shaped amulet that protects against the evil eye. The rooms are simply furnished, with tiled floor and woven rugs that can be bought in a shop on the property, next door to an honesty grocery where you can buy wine, beer and snacks on tick.

You need to be fit for Dionysos. There are flights of steps everywhere – up to the rooms, down to the pool, and to the breakfast restaurant which is lower still. The hotel’s own beach club is a half-hour trek down through pine woods and then along the coast road, with the option of a detour to the ruins of Amos, an ancient town with a beautiful, tumbledown amphitheatre and an Apollan temple with stunning views up and down the coast.

The pebbly beach lies far below, a further 10 minutes’ walk. Walking back up was the real exercise of the day, in 28-degree heat, treading on wild thyme and sage all the way, and occasionally stepping over a wild tortoise or two.

With most guests taking a shuttle bus up and down, we felt smug and entitled to enjoy three marvellous meals a day, starting with breakfast of fresh rolls, cheese and honey, and moving on through mezze for lunch and evening meals that involved fresh produce from the hotel’s organic farm including spiced wind-dried beef, amazingly colourful salads and about 25 different ways with aubergine.

Evening meals on the candlelit terrace generally ended up with guests gravitating towards each others’ tables, sharing bottles of wine. While there were some brave young couples, the majority of the guests were older, heading into retirement or already there, and apt to turn in early. Owners Rim and Ahmet, who live on the property, circulate most evenings and are charming company – he the wealthy scion of a steelmaking family who diversified into hotels and built Dionysos on the site of an ancient clutch of farmhouses; she, half French, half Syrian who came to a nearby town on holidays in the 1990s and never went home.

There are precious few rules at Dionysos and a lot of places in which to relax: hidden terraces, patches of garden and the immense infinity pool overlooking the bay. The staff-guest ratio, 65 to 62, means that you’re never too far from a long, clinking glass, a tidied room, or an immaculately turned-down bed. Early morning yoga is on offer, along with cooking demonstrations and a visit to the estate’s olive press which produces a green, peppery oil that wins prizes.

Did someone mention shopping? A day trip to Marmaris is the set-piece of the week at Dionysos, with a gorgeous 40-minute boat taking us there, and the promise to collect us much later. People scattered. The options are to visit a 15th-century castle that sits at the top of the harbour, to ramble along the seafront looking at the yachts and the grisly-looking pirate ships that roam the bay in the afternoons, pounding out disco music.

We bought fine white Turkish towels in the bazaar, bags of pale, sweet-tasting pine nuts and Turkish delight studded with pistachio. Then it was off on the minibus to a leather shop with a hidden salesroom full to the rafters with fakes – Chanel, Hermès, YSL, Céline. You name it, they had it.

For some, this is the high point of the holiday, but others see Dionysos as a place to stay very quiet and do very little. There’s little to disturb one all day except the buzzing of bees. You can look up and see the odd eagle, spot porcupines and wild boar, hear the distant wail of the muezzin call to prayer. The peace is enchanting. But it’s a long way to go for a very quiet holiday.

Orna Mulcahy was a guest of Dionysos Hotel

An earlier version of this article incorrectly named the founder of the Turkish state as Camel Titlark