Bozcaada

BOZCAADA, TURKEY—For me, it starts with an enticing offer: “I just put the chocolate layer cake in the oven. Come back tonight when it’s ready,” says Lisa Lay of the Café at Lisa’s.

Although I didn’t arrive on this wee Turkish isle with plans to sample such a decidedly Western baked good, I was intrigued. Lisa, an Australian native and local journalist, is hailed for her worldly cuisine and her vast knowledge of this island tucked in the Aegean Sea, where the Turks and Greeks have long commingled.

After promising to return, I take my leave and follow Lisa’s advice on exploring this bucolic land dotted with deserted coves, 17 windmills and myriad vineyards.

“You can walk or bike anywhere, except for the military base and, of course, private property,” Lisa says.

Bozcaada, known as Tenedos in Greek mythology and said to have been where the Greeks concealed their fleet during the Trojan War, has had a long history with viticulture. While roaming through the local history museum, I come across an ancient coin bearing an inscription of grapes.

Even the portside bicycle shop gets into the grape scene. I’m told that when I return my rented bike, I’ll receive a complimentary glass of wine. Clearly, sampling as much wine as possible will be one of my priorities.

Cycling past colourfully trimmed houses and bougainvillea-covered walls, I visit the island’s largest wine producer, Talay, where I’m offered 10 different wines to sample, including the Vasilaki Domisek, a crisp white with floral tones. After that, it’s a bit difficult to get back in the saddle, but more wines await at the next stop, Camlibag (Yunatci).

“We were the first Muslims on the island to start a winery, in 1925. Before that, it was the Greeks who made the wine and the Muslims just tended the grapes,” says the fourth-generation owner, Hasim Yunatci.

While I savour a glass of sweet kuntra — it resembles a smooth port — Hasim explains that he’s protecting the local kuntra grape.

“They’re like a pinot noir, but not as difficult.”

Back at Lisa’s to check out the cake — it’s still warm — she gives me an informal education in the local grape varieties: cavus, vasilaki, kuntra and karalahana. Despite all the drinking, I remember a few key points: the whites made with vasilaki grapes have citrus notes; cavus is a nice white table grape; the cabernet/kuntra blend is low in tannins.

The next morning, I devote my time to art and nature. After all, the landscape has inspired painters, sculptors and poets since antiquity — maybe even Homer himself, who often spoke of Tenedos. Down a foliage-draped lane, the façade of the Rengigul Art Gallery, with its brightly hued murals, stands out. Classical music emanates from a window, in which an artist paints a contemporary seascape. Another gallery, the two-storey Bozcaada Sanat, seems obsessed with abstracts of wind turbines. Some are dramatic close-ups of the blades; others have a surreal quality.

After that, I’m inspired to cycle to the wind turbines on the island’s westernmost point. It’s an easy ride along a treeless expanse with old stone vineyard houses set among row upon row of grapevines. In the distance is a dense stand of pines and beyond, a long row of wind turbines, which provide all the energy to fulfill the island’s needs.

Visiting an island without some beach time would be sacrilege. So the next day I take a dolmus (group taxi) to the last stop, Ayazma, the island’s most popular beach. I walk further on, in favour of exploring smaller and more isolated coves. My five-kilometre walk along a little-trafficked road brings me to a handful of paths that meander to sea-lapped coves, where I have the golden sands to myself. I could spend an afternoon on each of these.

Back on the dolmus, I settle beside a couple who tell me they had planned to stay three days, but they’re leaving early:

“It’s a pleasant island, but there’s not much to do here,” they say.

I’m not sure that they’ve visited the same Bozcaada as I have. I’m staying a few more days.