Duration: 6 days
Price: $1,900 per person (double occupancy, excluding international flights)
Group Size: 4-8 people
Inclusions: Airport transfers, family-run guesthouse stays, guided hikes, Sumela Monastery visit, seafood and hazelnut tastings, breakfasts, three dinners, local guides
Exclusions: International flights, tips, extra drinks
Start/End: Trabzon or Sinop airport

Day 1: Arrival in Trabzon and Coastal Welcome
You touch down in Trabzon, and we drive you to a family-run guesthouse near the coast—think wooden balconies, homemade jams at breakfast, and maybe a creaky floorboard or two for charm. Drop your stuff, take a quick walk along the shore where fishing boats bob and the air smells salty and fresh. First night’s dinner is a warm affair at the guesthouse—think grilled Black Sea anchovies (hamsi), cornbread (mısır ekmeği), and a bowl of steaming lentil soup, paired with tea from local leaves. Our guide, born in these parts, kicks things off with tales of the region’s history, from ancient Greeks to Ottoman traders, maybe over a glass of rakı if you’re up for it. It’s a cozy start, settling into the Black Sea’s laid-back rhythm, with waves lulling you to sleep under a quilt that smells faintly of lavender.
Day 2: Sumela Monastery and Mountain Hike
Day 2 takes you to Sumela Monastery, a 4th-century marvel perched on a cliff in the Altındere Valley, half-hidden by mist and pine trees. The drive winds through forests, and you’ll feel the air get cooler as we climb. At Sumela, we explore frescoed chapels and monks’ quarters carved into the rock—some paintings are faded, but their colors still pop, telling stories of Byzantine faith. The paths can be slippery, so sturdy shoes are a must, and it’s not always pristine—think mossy stones and a touch of wildness. After, we hike a nearby trail in the Maçka hills, maybe 3-4 hours, through dense woods where ferns brush your legs and you might spot a deer or hear an eagle overhead. Lunch is a picnic—local cheeses, olives, and bread baked that morning, eaten with views of jagged peaks. Back to the guesthouse for a free evening, maybe sipping tea on the porch, listening to the wind rustle through pines, feeling like you’ve stepped into a hidden world.
Day 3: Tea Plantations and Village Life
Morning’s all about tea—Turkey’s Black Sea coast grows some of the best. We visit a plantation near Rize, where rolling green hills are blanketed with tea bushes. A local farmer walks you through the process, from picking leaves to brewing the perfect cup, and you’ll taste tea so fresh it’s like drinking the landscape itself. The fields are lush, but paths can be muddy, so boots are handy. Then we head to a nearby village, maybe Fındıklı, where life moves slow—think stone houses, kids playing in the street, and grandmas selling hazelnuts from their gardens. You’ll try fresh-roasted hazelnuts, crunchy and buttery, and maybe chat with a villager about their family recipes. Lunch is at a local home—think muhlama, a gooey mix of cornmeal, butter, and cheese, served with warm hospitality. Afternoon’s a short hike along a river trail, spotting waterfalls or old wooden bridges. Dinner back at the guesthouse might feature laz böreği, a sweet-savory pastry layered with custard, ending a day steeped in Black Sea flavors and faces.
Day 4: Coastal Drive to Ordu and Hazelnut Haven
We hit the road toward Ordu, hugging the coastline where cliffs meet crashing waves. The drive’s scenic—think turquoise water on one side, forested hills on the other, with stops to stretch legs or snap photos of fishing villages. In Ordu, we visit a hazelnut farm, since this region grows half the world’s supply. You’ll see nuts drying in the sun, learn how they’re harvested, and taste them raw, roasted, or slathered in honey—simple but addictive. The farm might feel rustic, with tools scattered or a dog napping nearby, but that’s the charm. Lunch is at a seaside spot—fresh fish, maybe mackerel, grilled with lemon and herbs, plus a side of pickled veggies. Afternoon’s for exploring Ordu’s old quarter, with Ottoman-era houses and a cable car ride up Boztepe Hill if you’re up for it, offering views that stretch to the horizon. Night’s at another guesthouse, dinner on your own—maybe try a local pide joint, the Turkish take on pizza, and crash under starry skies.
Day 5: Sinop’s Shores and Historic Walls
Day 5 takes us to Sinop, a port town with a vibe that’s half-sleepy, half-lively. We explore its ancient fortress walls, built by Greeks and beefed up by Ottomans, with views over the Black Sea’s endless blue. The town’s got history—exiled poets, pirate raids—and our guide shares its tales while you wander cobbled streets, passing fish markets and cafés. Lunch is a highlight: seafood straight from the boats, think shrimp sautéed in butter or fried mussels, eaten at a harbor taverna with waves lapping nearby. Afternoon’s for a beach walk or a short hike to a cliffside lookout—windswept and wild, with gulls circling above. If you’re lucky, you might catch locals playing backgammon under a tree, happy to teach you a move. We stay in a Sinop guesthouse, maybe with a garden view, and dinner’s a group feast—perhaps barbun (red mullet) and a salad bursting with greens, paired with stories swapped around the table.
Day 6: Farewell and Coastal Reflections
Last day’s light but memorable. We take a morning stroll along Sinop’s shore, maybe dipping toes in the chilly Black Sea or collecting smooth pebbles as keepsakes. The guide might share a final story, like how locals believe the sea hides sunken treasures from ancient ships. We visit a small market for souvenirs—hand-carved wooden spoons or bags of hazelnuts to take home. Lunch is casual, maybe at a seaside shack serving köfte (meatballs) with fresh bread and ezme, a spicy tomato dip. If time allows, we stop at a scenic coastal viewpoint, the sea stretching out like a farewell wave. Then it’s transfer time to Sinop or Trabzon airport, leaving you with memories of misty monasteries, tea-scented hills, and the Black Sea’s untamed heart—a raw, real slice of Turkey you won’t forget.
Why the Black Sea Stands Out
This coast isn’t like Turkey’s sunny south—it’s wilder, greener, with a moody edge that feels alive. The Black Sea’s got its own rhythm: waves that roar, forests that hum with life, and people who welcome you like family. Sumela’s cliffs, tea plantations, and hazelnut farms aren’t just sights—they’re pieces of a culture that’s fiercely proud and a bit mysterious. Our guides bring it to life with personal stories, maybe about their uncle who fished these waters or a legend of mountain spirits. It’s not always polished—roads might be bumpy, guesthouses simple—but that rawness makes every moment feel authentic, like you’re part of the landscape, not just passing through.
Cultural Threads of the Region
The Black Sea’s a tapestry of influences—Greek, Laz, Hemshin, and Ottoman, all woven into its food, music, and stories. You’ll hear it in the twang of a kemençe, a local stringed instrument, or taste it in dishes like hamsi pilav, rice baked with anchovies. Villages keep traditions alive—tea pickers in colorful headscarves, elders telling tales of shipwrecks, or festivals where locals dance the horon in circles. We build in moments to connect, like sipping tea with a farmer or watching a craftsman carve a flute. These encounters aren’t staged; they’re the Black Sea’s soul, showing a Turkey that’s resilient, diverse, and deeply rooted.
Tastes and Textures of the Coast
Food here is hearty, tied to the sea and soil. Breakfasts might be eggs fried with sucuk (spicy sausage), fresh honeycomb, and tea—always tea, served in tulip-shaped glasses. Dinners feature hamsi in every form—fried, baked, or stuffed—alongside cabbage rolls or bean stew that warms you up. Hazelnuts sneak into everything, from desserts like helva to snacks tossed with salt. You’ll try kuymak, a cheesy cornmeal dish that’s pure comfort, and bread so crusty it crackles. Meals are often at guesthouses or tavernas, with hosts who pile your plate high and share their own recipes. The air’s always fresh, carrying scents of grilled fish or pine, and every bite feels like the Black Sea itself—bold, honest, and unforgettable.