Forget Capri, Türkiye’s Turquoise Coast Is the Mediterranean’s New Luxury Hotspot

Like most millennials, I’ve watched Mykonos, Santorini and Italy’s Amalfi Coast go from aspirational destinations to Euro Summer rites of passage. But with their soaring popularity come the crowds, €30 Aperols and the realisation that you’re holidaying somewhere you’ve already experienced parasocially; all of which I’ve written about. At length.

Obsessed, as I was, with The Odyssey this summer, though, I still wanted the fantasy — with less turmoil and fewer “deathless gods” (yes, I’ve read the book, too) — of days spent coursing along an impossibly blue coastline.

Enter Türkiye’s Turquoise Coast. Stretching along the country’s south-western edge, it offers much of what draws the hordes to the Mediterranean’s more famous playgrounds: ancient ruins, crystalline water, excellent food and glamorous hotels, but with stretches of untouched coastline and rugged, forested terrain.

In fact, as we wound our way down the mountain from our first stay at Perdue — a clifftop bolthole perfect for honeymooners or, in my case, the newly engaged — I realised the glistening waters below were disappearing beneath great umber plumes. A wildfire was burning through the landscape, one of more than 1,600 to have blazed across Europe and the UK this summer.

It was a sobering puncture to the Mediterranean idyll. Helicopters carrying Bambi Buckets hovered overhead as we left the forested mountains behind and headed towards Homer’s “wine-dark sea” — a reminder, too, of how precious the landscape is; how much it needs protecting.

Further along the coast, secluded bays house a new generation of design-led hotels making the area a serious alternative to the usual Mediterranean circuit.

One such hotel is Yazz Collective, an Ibiza-meets-Turquoise-Coast retreat accessible only by boat and almost invisible from the sea until you enter its private bay, it feels less like a resort and more like a Bond lair.

The Vibe

As part of a new, slower approach to travel I’ve been trying to adopt (to middling success), I avoided researching Yazz Collective. But on the occasions I did have to search something, I’d invariably clock those all-too-ubiquitous travel buzzwords — ones I’m equally guilty of using — like ‘barefoot luxury’ and ‘polished ease’. Both felt slightly incongruous with an arrival that saw us chauffeur-driven from our hotel, ferried to a waiting port and deposited by yacht at what is essentially a private island. Barefoot, sure, but understated?

And yet, as I weaved past the outdoor watersports centre and art therapy area, I kinda understood what everyone was getting at. The aesthetic is barefoot but considered: natural materials and earthy tones against pine forest and dazzlingly blue sea, while just 16 guest houses keep things intimate (read: exclusive) rather than resort-like.

By day, the pace is slow: swims in the bay, long, wine-soaked lunches and afternoons on sunbeds as superyachts drift in and out of view. Suffice to say, the people-watching is excellent. Then, as the afternoon sun slips towards the horizon, things become more convivial, as those aboard the yachts — freshly gussied up after a hard day sunning themselves — come ashore for dinner.

Yazz began life as a beach club, and occasionally would-be revellers pull into harbour, ruddy-skinned, and ready to party. I witnessed as much on my first night. As I was twirling a forkful of linguine vongole and not feeling particularly glamorous (blame the day drinking), three women in matching white outfits tumbled off a docked boat, joined by a single man, trim, tanned, and with an appetite for rakı. The quartet seemed to know their way around the restaurant, so perhaps they knew precisely what they were doing. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling they were chasing a night Yazz wasn’t particularly interested in giving them.

For the most part, though, the crowd is more relaxed: well-heeled couples, Turkish families and yacht-dwellers are happy to let lunch bleed into dinner rather than dance around the DJ booth.

The Rooms

The same aesthetic runs inside: earthy tones, linen, wood, stone, and huge picture windows. All suites come with king-size beds, private outdoor space and walk-in rain showers. Mine also had an added outdoor shower and a private chill-out pool, though the ocean was within skipping distance.

Early mornings were for coffee on the terrace, or, if I was really early, on a lounger, letting my toes tap the pool like a piano before the sun beat down too heavily.

There are thoughtful details, too: a pillow menu, yoga mats and widescreen TVs with Netflix and YouTube (we watched Jason and the Argonauts while unpacking, which was pleasingly campier than I remembered). The bathrooms are cool and spacious, stacked with Le Labo products.

Food & Drink

Breakfast is quite the undertaking. The options are dizzying and we dedicated ourselves to exploring them (it’s a tough job etc, etc.) The Turkish breakfast was a table-swallowing spread of freshly baked bread, cheeses, dips, fruit, sucuk and great slabs of honeycomb. Then, we’d order from the hot menu, too. Menemen one day; meats and eggs the next.

The wider menu is mainly Mediterranean. At lunch, we ate ceviche and crab crudo with a crisp local white; for dinner, I found myself eating more pasta than I’d expected on a trip to Türkiye. Not that I was complaining.

There are, however, moments when Yazz’s superyacht clientele makes itself known. One evening, I almost ordered the lobster linguine before doing the currency conversion and realising it hit around the £250 mark.

Though we rarely had room, sütlaç, Türkiye’s creamy rice pudding, was a favourite.

The Facilities

There is plenty to do at Yazz, though the longer I stayed, the less inclined I felt to do it. I enjoyed a gentle hatha yoga class beachside and signed myself up for paddleboard yoga. Then, I fell victim to the aforementioned breakfast, lay down under the shade of a pine tree and slept through the hour-long session.

I was, in theory, equally tempted by everything from canoes (especially the glass-bottomed ones), waterskiing and wakeboarding to SeaBobs, wakesurfing and E-Foiling; you know the watersport famously loved by Mark Zuckerberg, if you want to go full billionaire cosplay. All come at an expense, but the main cost I wasn’t willing to fork out for was losing snoozing time, and so I skipped the water hoverboard (and most everything else).

Back on dry land, there’s an outdoor gym and personal training, plus pickleball, badminton, beach volleyball, and table tennis. There’s workshops aplenty: ceramics, candle-making and, on the day I arrived, straw hat painting. Everything is outdoors and open, including the spa where treatments are performed by Balinese therapists overlooking the ocean in secluded treatment rooms seemingly carved into the rockface.

But the best facility is arguably the bay itself. With nowhere you need to be and almost everything arranged within a few minutes of the water, Yazz makes it all-too-easy to build a full itinerary only to abandon it completely.

Don’t Miss

Contrary to everything I’ve just said about relinquishing plans to Yazz’s slower pace, the standout moment of our stay did, in fact, involve one such plan.

On our penultimate evening, we stepped aboard Moonday for a private sunset cruise. Yes, we went full Bond. As we pulled away from the bay, champagne was poured (and quickly quaffed), and cherries and pistachios were nibbled at as we cruised along the coastline to watch the sun slink into the Mediterranean.

How to book

Rates at Yazz Collective start from £500 per night for a Deluxe Room on a bed-and-breakfast basis, with a minimum two-night stay. Boat transfers to and from the hotel are included in the room rate.

Private sunset boat trips start from £380, while non-motorised watersports start from £60 and motorised options from £80.

What to pack