Syria Street
The colonnaded main avenue, its columns re-erected for hundreds of metres, is the spine of the visit and the only stretch fit for a pushchair.
Arkiyolok — CC BY-SA 4.0 · Biologg — CC BY-SA 4.0 · Biologg — CC BY-SA 4.0 · Biologg — CC BY-SA 4.0
In May 2022 some fifteen thousand people sat on the stone tiers of Laodicea's western theatre for a symphony concert, the first full house here in sixteen centuries. That evening sums the place up: a vast Hellenistic and Roman city that lay buried under farmland outside Denizli until Pamukkale University began digging in 2003, and which still yields a new street or temple most seasons. The odd part is that most people visiting Pamukkale drive straight past it without knowing it is there. Founded by Antiochus II in the mid-third century BC and named after his wife Laodice, the city grew rich on black wool and banking, rich enough that when an earthquake flattened it in AD 60 the citizens declined Rome's help and rebuilt it themselves. Today you walk the colonnaded Syria Street with its re-erected columns, pass the monumental Trajan fountain and Temple A, and reach the fourth-century Laodicea Church, one of the earliest church buildings in Anatolia, sheltered under a glass roof with striking mosaic and cut-marble floors. This is one of the Seven Churches of Revelation, which brings Christian pilgrims, but the ruins justify the detour on their own. The thing to know before you get out of the car: the site is far larger than it looks from the gate, flat, exposed and almost shadeless. Two in the afternoon in August is a punishment here, so come first thing or after five, and bring water and a hat. The paving is ancient and uneven, so a pushchair works only along the main street; small children flag after an hour, while families with teenagers get a wide, uncrowded place to roam. Do not count on a café inside the site, so carry what you need. Getting there is easy: roughly 12 km and 15 minutes by car from Pamukkale, less from central Denizli, with parking at the gate. The Denizli–Pamukkale dolmuş passes the turn-off but leaves you a kilometre's walk in the sun, so a taxi suits anyone without a car. The neat plan is a morning stop before Hierapolis, or the reverse: the travertines early, then Laodicea in the last hours of daylight, when the columns turn gold.
The colonnaded main avenue, its columns re-erected for hundreds of metres, is the spine of the visit and the only stretch fit for a pushchair.
A fourth-century church under a glass roof, with rare mosaic and cut-marble floors, among the earliest church buildings in Anatolia.
A 2,200-year-old auditorium rebuilt almost entirely from its own original stones and reopened with a concert in May 2022; the view over the plain rewards the climb to the top row.
Goncalı Mahallesi, on the Denizli–Pamukkale road, Denizli
Yes, if you have an extra half day: the glass-roofed church and the restored western theatre have no equivalent at Hierapolis, and the site is far quieter. With only one day and small children, stick to Pamukkale; Laodicea neither replaces it nor adds enough to justify two more hours in the sun.
A taxi takes about 15 minutes from Pamukkale and less from central Denizli; ask the driver to wait, as taxis are rarely waiting at the gate. The Denizli–Pamukkale dolmuş is cheaper but drops you at the turn-off with a shadeless kilometre to walk, a poor choice in summer.
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