Early morning on Fethiye’s sunlit harbour and the marina is crammed with hundreds of yachts, gulets and sail boats all ready for another day exploring Turkey’s glitteringly beautiful Lycian coastline. Rising above them, the bright white hulk of the Fethiye-Rhodes ferry gleams in the sunlight, ready to follow its two-hour route along the coast, past the resorts of Gocek and Marmaris, tracing the long spine of the Datca peninsula and crossing open water to arrive at the island of Rhodes. It’s one of the easiest ways to combine a holiday in these two neighbours – a quick two-hour hop from the distinctly un-European Turkish coast to the more familiar slow pace of Greece. At 7am, the harbourfront is quiet, except for the line of backpackers, day-trippers and couples all waiting to board. There’s a feeling of muted excitement – a palpable sense of adventure at travelling between countries without getting on a plane. Our escapade – a fortnight exploring the Turkish coast and Rhodes – began with a few days in Kalkan. This former fishing village, tucked into a mountainous, horseshoe-shaped bay and famous for its picturesque cobbled streets, has grown into a major resort over the past few decades. And there is plenty to discover nearby. Its fast road to Patara – one of Turkey’s most spectacular beaches – routes directly through the ancient site of Roman Patara. Once a flourishing maritime city and capital of ancient Lycia, the fields are dotted with ruined temples, a triumphal arch and a necropolis area, with more ruins being excavated and restored. A new visitor centre opened a few years ago, making the site more accessible and easier to navigate, but most cars still head straight through to the long boardwalk that leads out on to Patara’s miles of unspoiled sand. And thanks also to the loggerhead turtles, who come to lay their eggs on the sands, development is outlawed, save for the thatched-roof beach cafe and a small section of loungers. So, happily, it’s nature that dominates here, with the Lycian mountains looming beyond the Xanthos plains – vast hulks of khaki and mauve. Although most visitors to Turkey focus on the beaches, heading inland offers the chance to glimpse a more authentic side of life. It’s barely a 10-minute drive from Kalkan up to the mountain village of Islamlar, but it’s another world entirely, the air thick with birdsong and the trickle of the mountain streams. This is the place to come for a slow lunch of meze and freshly caught fish, sitting in a kosk, with views out towards the sea. The following morning, we head in the opposite direction, up to the village of Bezirgan – another peaceful inland village – for a traditional Turkish breakfast at Sahika Bahce, with tables set in a lovely, flower-filled garden. After several days of exploring, our thoughts turn to Greece. With an early ferry departure, we decide to stay near the marina for a couple of nights beforehand. We head to the Hillside Beach Club, a sprawling, all-inclusive resort tucked into a beautiful, forested bay just outside the town. It’s a chance to recharge batteries before the inevitable gear change between Turkey and Greece. It’s only about 25 miles between the two countries, but in spite – or, perhaps, because – of the proximity, the history between the two is not a happy one. In 1923, after a three-year war, a population exchange saw 1.6 million Muslims and Christians move – some forcibly – between the two, in the hope of creating two ethnically harmonious nations, free from sectarian divisions. The radical policy left the Turkish coast dotted with empty hamlets and half-deserted villages – like Kalkan. The exodus was mirrored in the Greek islands that lie closest to the Turkish coast, including Rhodes, which explains the ancient mosques that dot the island and the sense of Ottoman history entwined with Greek. After our beautiful journey out of Fethiye – with the Taurus mountains in the distance – our hotel, Elissa, makes us feel as though we have taken a step back and slowed down, in everything from its architecture to the atmosphere. What the places have in common is a rich history. Rhodes Town, just ten minutes from our hotel, boasts one of the most complete medieval centres in Europe, with a lattice of lanes dating from the 14th Century. Then under Turkish rule, which lasted almost four centuries, the town is still dotted with mosques and Ottoman buildings. After a day exploring, we head inland to discover some of the villages that lie between the rolling khaki hills. First stop is Apollona, home to Paraga, said to be the best taverna on the island. Run by bearded, sparkly-eyed Giannis, it specialises in traditional Rhodian dishes – casseroles baked in clay overnight, platters of marinated lamb and several varieties of bread. We eat silky aubergine and beef so tender it melts like chocolate, and tell Giannis, quite honestly, that it is the best meal of the trip. From Apollona it’s an easy drive to Embonas, the most isolated of the island’s villages and said to be the most traditional. It’s more touristy than expected, but the leafy main street has a nice mix of tavernas, cafes and gift shops. For the last few days, we venture further south. We stay close to Lindos, with its acropolis and tangle of picturesque lanes. We dip into the town but the cruise crowds are overwhelming, so we flee to the sleepy resort of Pefkos for a dip in the calm waters of Lee Beach. Later, as we sit on the terrace at the Lindos Blu hotel, it feels as if I should almost be able to see Turkey, so close across the water. While Greece and Turkey are perceived as so very different, our trip has shown that there is as much that unites these two neighbours as divides them. Together, these fascinating countries offer an extraordinary insight into their entwined histories – and the perfect way to carve two holidays out of one.