Kicking back in Kilis en route to Syria

But the Turkish-Syrian border is a long one, and there are several other more adventurous crossing possibilities, including little Kilis, whence shared taxis make the run as and when there are enough takers. Kilis is a town of small pleasures. There are no major monuments to enjoy here, but on the other hand, there are down the backstreets any number of lovely old mosques and hamams (Turkish baths), not to mention a surprising number of narrow alleyways lined with old houses that gently evoke the grander delights of Şanlıurfa or Gaziantep.

The most obvious place to start one's wanderings is the square in front of the Canbolat Paşa Tekke Cami, just off Cumhuriyet Caddesi. To one side of this square stands the cute little Mevlevihane Cami, which dates back to 1525 and was once the semahane (ritual room) of a lodge of whirling dervishes. Its stripy facade immediately evokes the architecture of Gaziantep while echoing that of Aleppo (Halep), too, whereas the much larger Canbolat Cami, built only 28 years later, espouses a more familiar style of Ottoman architecture that has inevitably led to claims (unlikely to be true) that it's a work of Mimar Sinan. The mosque was built for Emir Canbolat, one of the powerful Canbolatoğulları family who held sway both in Kilis and Aleppo for several centuries, and replaced in importance the old Ulu Cami (Great Mosque) that had served as the main religious center during the long years in which the Mamluks governed Kilis.

The Canbolat Cami retains much of its külliye, or complex of associated buildings, although the ugly şadırvan (ablutions fountain) is a modern addition it could well do without. If you wander round it to the left, you'll come to the large Canbolat Paşa Hanı, a warehouse which smells overpoweringly of pekmez (grape molasses). This is because it has become a storage center for bricks of dried pekmez, a Kilis specialty made using a type of grape that can't be eaten fresh but is instead converted into raisins and then into pekmez. To reach the han, you pass through an abbara, one of the attractive arched passageways that are often thought of as a feature of Mardin but that also crop up in Urfa and Kilis, and indeed in most of the Middle East.

More or less in between the old dervish lodge and the mosque stands the multi-domed Paşa Hamamı, dating back to 1567 and one of many lovely baths dotted about the city. Turkish baths can be found all over the country, but they're also a feature of most of the Islamic world, and the baths of Kilis are closer in design to those of Syria than to those of distant İstanbul. In particular, they're almost identical to the wonderful and exotic Hammam Yalbougha an-Nasry of Aleppo, a popular tourist attraction which makes it all the more sad that most of Kilis' baths have been allowed to fall into dereliction. Happily, the tide has started to turn, and the Eski Hamamı (Old Hamam), dating back to 1562 and right beside the Cüneyne Cami (Little Heaven Mosque), is currently undergoing restoration. Meanwhile the Paşa Hamamı is open for male bathers, while the Hoca Hamamı, dating back to 1545, also welcomes women.

Kilis' geographical location ensured it one of those tempestuous relationships with history in which the town was forever changing hands as rampaging armies forced their way through. There's nothing to show now for its Hittite, Roman or Persian past (the grand early 20th century Neşet Efendi Konağı is slated to become a museum but nothing has happened yet), and between the fifth and 11th centuries this was a part of the world right on the hotly contested frontier between Christianity and Islam. Eventually it was the Mamluks, a dynasty based in Egypt, that managed to secure the area, and it was under the Mamluks that Kilis began to thrive as a trading center. But in 1516, after more than 250 years of hegemony, the Mamluks were defeated by the Ottoman Sultan Selim I, which led to a period of peace and prosperity during which many of the town's more impressive buildings were erected.

For most locals, however, life remained fairly tough, and the Kilis backstreets bear witness to that in row upon row of single-story houses that have proved far too small for modern needs. The result is unfortunate in that most now boast an attractive adobe or stone-built ground floor topped off with an ugly first floor of concrete or breezeblocks. Still, if you're not too picky, you'll enjoy inspecting the decorative details of door and window frames while noting the little round apertures inserted beside the front doors to let air circulate. Every now and then you'll also spot a beautiful cumba (bay window) with delicate wooden carvings along its frame, or a gate decorated with a pattern made out of nails. Many of the houses are also adorned with metal plaques to indicate that a member of the family has been to Mecca.

Tucked away along streets too narrow for cars to pass, you'll eventually stumble upon the Ulu Cami (Great Mosque, 1339), the city's finest surviving example of Mamluk architecture, and presumably sidelined by the Ottomans in an attempt to stamp their own image on their new acquisition. The Ulu Cami is a long, narrow building with multiple entrances onto a courtyard. Its style is usually compared to that of the Umayyad Mosque in Damascus, although there are also clear parallels with the Diyarbakır Ulu Cami, itself probably based on the Umayyad Mosque. It's an extraordinary find in such an out-of-the-way location.

Back on the main streets, it's worth seeking out the newly restored early 16th century Tabakhane Cami and, nearby, one of Kilis' more curious sights, the Öksüz Minare (Orphan Minaret), a single minaret with an enormous six-pointed star carved on its base that is all that survives from the early 19th century Mehmet Paşa Cami complex. Opposite the Tabakhane Cami, there's also a 19th century covered çeşme (fountain) of the type called in Kilis a “kastel.” As in İstanbul, the prosperous often showed off their wealth by providing access to drinking water for the ordinary folk. In this case, the philanthropist was the little known Salih Ağa, although another such kastel near the Mer-Tur Hotel was provided in the 17th century by the grand vizier Damat Mustafa Paşa, a.k.a. İpşir Paşa, whose murder was engineered by the janissaries in 1655.

The modern parts of Kilis may look much like those of any other Turkish town, but this is a place which still cleaves to tradition, in particular to its own cuisine. The Kilislis appear to have a very sweet tooth, and one of the dishes you should be sure to sample while here is katmer, a delicious pancake sandwiching walnuts, pistachios and cream. As a main course, look out for oruk kebab, which is flavored with mint and garlic, or for Kilis tava, which is rather like a large flattened meatball decorated with tomatoes and pepper. In one of the many kuruyemiş (fruit and nut) shops about town, you might also want to buy some of the local variety of “sucuk,” strings of walnuts embedded in fruit jelly that dangle from the ceiling like mobiles decorating a child's bedroom.

WHERE TO STAY: Mer-Tur Hotel: 0 348 814 08 34

HOW TO GET THERE: There are buses to Kilis from Gaziantep otogar (bus terminal) every half an hour; the journey takes one-and-a-half hours. A new bus station is being built at Kilis. Once it's completed, taxis to Öncüpınar/Aleppo will probably relocate there.