We set sail on the 7th, without doubt to the great relief of the people of Adalia, and cast anchor again at Lara. Here there are considerable ruins, but none of them very interesting. Our next stoppage was at Eshi Satalia, the ancient Sidé, where we remained four days. The Roman theatre is of vast dimensions and in good preservation, and it is noticeable that, as is evident from marks of crosses on the stones, it had been repaired in Christian times, which shows that theatres were still used after the conversion of the inhabitants to Christianity. The proscenium was in ruins, as usual, and some of its sculptures lay in the arena. In comparatively modern times it had been utilised to form part of the city wall, but the theatre itself was in wonderful preservation. Sidé is now absolutely desolate, probably because the aqueduct which supplied the ancient city is broken, and there is no water whatever on the site. This accounts for the theatre being so well preserved. I spent all my time among these lonely ruins to very good purpose, drawing and studying. The architecture is some of it even absurd: for instance, the triumphal façade at the entrance; but the sculpture is all far superior to the architecture. Although not in the very best style, it is exceedingly good, and cut with astonishing freedom and boldness. As I said, the site of Sidé, and even the neighbourhood, is absolutely deserted. Nevertheless, news of our being on the coast had got about, and a Turkish dignitary came down from the interior, ostensibly to offer us civilities, but in reality to watch our proceedings. He was invited on board, but refused, saying, with a great assumption of dignity, that he had ridden an hour to the coast to visit the captain, and now the captain should come to him. The real fact was he was afraid. The captain accordingly came in the jolly-boat, the crew of which was in charge of a midshipman who charmed the Turk so much that he wanted to buy him, and made an offer of 2,000 piastres for him.