We wait, and we wait, but still nobody comes.

The 10am dolmus to Saklikent is going nowhere. It cuts a solitary vehicle in the bus station now all the other dolmus’ – to Kaputas, Kas and Patara – have long since departed. There is a problem. This dolmus needs a minimum of four passengers to make the once-a-day, hour-long journey to this awe-inspiring gorge and… there are only two of us.

In desperation we phone one of the local travel agents that offers daily trips to the gorge but their bus has already left. When all hope of anyone else turning up is fading, one of us has a bright idea  – to pay for the other two seats.

We are finally on our way.

A dolmus can be flagged down at any point on its journey but, running 45 minutes late, we are the only passengers. Other hopefuls who might have expected to travel some of this route have probably long given up the wait. And as we trundle along, watching the slow rhythm of Turkish life in the small towns and more rural villages, I wonder why we hadn’t thought of paying for the other two seats earlier.

Usually, this dolmus will break the journey with a 30 minute stop at Xanthos, a welcome respite in the hot summer months, allowing passengers to take refreshments in the café, or pop across the road to visit the ancient ruins of Xanthos, a Unesco World Heritage Site. But today we have time to catch up, and we go sailing past.

Saklikent, meaning hidden city in Turkish, is one of the deepest canyons in the world, at 300m deep. Now in May, when most of the snow from the Taurus Mountains has melted and passed through the gorge, around 4km of this 18km long canyon is walkable.

We pay the small entrance fee, work our way along the narrow, snaking bridge through the vast, towering crevice in the rock, and marvel at the sounds and sight of the melt water roaring through the ravine below us. On the other side, the gorge is quieter and even more spectacular. Many tourists happy to sit here, sheltering from the sun under the hanging trees, enjoy what the little café, and the view, have to offer, but we decide to walk the gorge. Armed with jelly shoes – which we hire here for a small price – we tentatively clamber across the slippery rocks into the icy water.

Now it depends on the time of year as to the depth of the water, and how fast it flows. Sometimes it’s little more than a trickle, maybe just calf deep, but not today. We join the other tourists, laughing and clinging to the sides of rocks as we wade up to our thighs in the freezing water, our legs being pulled involuntarily beneath us from the force of it.

Eventually, hanging on to each other for support, and narrowly managing to stay upright, we make it to the turn in the gorge – in reality only a few metres away. Here the water changes again. It’s calm and shallow, we’re in shade, and the view of the rocks rising above us on each side is truly awe-inspiring.

We head off into the canyon, on one of the most memorable of walks.

The dolmus to Saklikent leaves from Kalkan bus station at 10am, but it is advisable to check the time before you travel. On the odd occasion when the water is deemed dangerous to enter the canyon walk is taped off, although you can still sit at the café tables and enjoy the view.