Breakfast Bliss and a Beach Day on Bozcaada: Ayazma Beach & More Village Explorations
Being the organised travellers that we are, our first task this morning was a bit of old-fashioned hand-washing. By 8.30am the roof terrace was already baking, so everything was hung out in the full glare of the Bozcaadan sun. If there’s one thing Turkey excels at—aside from tea, cats and hospitality—it’s laundry-drying weather. But the real excitement was breakfast at the Alicante Hotel. If it was anything like the breakfasts we’d already enjoyed in Turkey, we knew we were in for something special, and honestly, we weren’t disappointed.
As we stepped inside the sunny breakfast room, Okan greeted us with a warm smile while Rabia worked away in the little kitchen area preparing the morning feast. Within minutes, our table disappeared beneath those classic Turkish breakfast dishes that make you question every breakfast choice you’ve ever made back home. Freshly sliced tomatoes and cucumber, still-warm bread, a selection of local cheeses, olives glistening in olive oil, rich tomato paste—and then my absolute weakness: Turkish preserves and butter. Today’s offerings were bitter orange, rose petal and peach. A trio of perfection. Okan told me that the preserves were all made by Rabia! A plate of mayalı pişi the savoury doughnuts were then added to the mountain, and we were asked how we wanted our omelettes. I chose mine with soft white cheese. To complete the feast, we were served either orange or lavender juice—and let me tell you, the lavender juice was exceptional. This breakfast has been the best of our trip so far, and it’s going to take some beating.
On a last-minute whim, we decided today would be a beach day—a rare luxury on this particular journey. With the temperature hovering around 27–28°C, it seemed like the most sensible idea in the world. Bozcaada has several good beaches, but we settled on Ayazma Beach, the island’s most famous. Even in late September, we expected it to be busy, judging by the number of people who’d arrived with us on yesterday’s ferry. The village is small, so finding the bus stop near the port was easy enough. Two minibuses were waiting, though it took us a moment to figure out which one was headed to Ayazma. For reasons known only to the bus gods of Turkey, the timetable was pinned inside the bus rather than outside. Still, once aboard, it was just 100 TL for the ride.
The journey was a pleasant one, passing low rolling hills and acres upon acres of vineyards—the kind of landscape that captivates you immediately. Knowing Bozcaada’s long wine-producing history, much of it inherited from the island’s former Greek population, it would have been more surprising not to see vineyards.
The minibus dropped us off on the road above the beach. It was a good vantage point from which to scope out the best location to plonk ourselves. The beach was big. I’ll admit, it was thick with sunbeds and parasols, which always makes the natural-beach lover in me wince, but today I was more than grateful for the chance to collapse onto a sunbed and do absolutely nothing. It’s so good to see that Aegean blue again!
Before settling down, we wanted to explore a small monastery we’d spotted on Google Maps. So, back up the hill we went. As the road curved, we passed a café bar on the corner, and right beside it was a tiny stone building. This was Ayazma Monastery—or more precisely, Agia Paraskevi Monastery—a Greek Orthodox site built in 1734. Historically, it was an important pilgrimage spot for the island’s Greek community, best known for its holy spring and its festival held every year on 26 July.
The building looked far more like a small chapel than a monastery, almost swallowed by the footprint of the café next door. At the side, we noticed a small arched opening with steps leading down into a dark recess. It wasn’t clear what this was—a spring chamber, perhaps—but curiosity got the better of Peter, who ventured in for a look. I stayed firmly at the entrance, keeping a watchful eye out for snakes, spiders and any other creeping horrors. In the end, there wasn’t much to report, but I’m glad we saw it. These little remnants of Bozcaada’s Greek past fascinate me.
With that curiosity satisfied, we finally surrendered ourselves to the beach. As we stepped onto the sand, the curve of golden coastline opened up before us. And from this point on, the day went blissfully silent, because all we did was swim, sunbathe, doze and repeat. It was exactly what we needed.
In the late afternoon, we pulled ourself away from the beach and moseyed back over to the bus stop. Here we caught the minibus back to the village. Showered and changed, we made our way up to the roof terrace to take advante of the sun – my own personal environmentally friendly hairdryer!
Before heading out to dinner, we took some time to take our explorations of the village a little further. Directly opposite the Alicante Hotel was the village mosque, and close to it the town square with a statue of Atatürk at its centre. An open market surrounded the square, full of handcrafted products, honey, olive oil, soaps and pottery. Tempting though it was, it’s far too early in our travels to start gathering things to bring home. That comes later, usually in a mad panic the day before flying.
Whilst wandering around the back streets we stumbled across a few pieces of street art tucked away next to a lovely little wine-tasting spot that immediately went onto our “tomorrow evening” list. But tonight we chose Asmalı Meyhane for dinner—a popular restaurant just steps from the hotel. It felt like the perfect place to try one of Bozcaada’s local wines, so we ordered a bottle of Vasilaki white. Crisp, refreshing and thoroughly enjoyable. The food was good, the service a bit chaotic, but not disastrously so. Turkey excels in hospitality, but customer service is sometimes a step behind—two very different things. It didn’t spoil our evening.
We ended the day with a gentle wander along the waterfront before heading to bed, pleasantly tired, slightly sun-warmed, and very happy with our decision to take a lazy beach day on Bozcaada. Well it would have been rude not to!
