Maçakizi, by Civilian London
Last summer, we took a short hop from Istanbul down to Bodrum to see our friends Murat Bozok (a Marcus Wareing protégé, and the man behind Mimolett, close to Taksim Square) and Jale Balci, of Antiochia Concept, the tiny Asmalımescit restaurant with a cult following which serves mezze from Antakya.
They’d both relocated their kitchens for the summer to the Casa Dell’Arte hotel in Bodrum. (No one summers in Istanbul). We love them both – Murat knocks out refined European dishes for the fine dining crowd, and we’d travel a long way indeed for one of Jale’s Antiochia Rolls – a slightly spicy beef burrito that is the most delicious thing we’ve eaten in Istanbul (and that includes the clotted cream-filled Turkish delight that we’re obsessed with).
Bodrum has been heating up, season after season. For the last couple of years it’s been on fire. We asked Rifat Ozbek, who has a house on the coast, where to eat; he sent us to Kocadon, where we had the most perfect grilled squid on the prettiest al fresco terrace in town.
We stayed at the new Aman, Amanruya (lavish, with glorious private villas, but also curiously monastic), and went to the launch party for the Mandarin Oriental and Mandarin Oriental Residences in Bodrum. There still wasn’t much to see — the hotel isn’t due to open for another two years — but the event was memorable: spumante stocks were drained dry, and the most aggressive liggers we had ever seen (and we’ve seen legion) besieged the sushi chefs in their pavilion, snatching up the sashimi as soon as it was cut and leaving the vastly expensive floating nigiri conveyor belts bereft of raw fish all evening. Two girls performed an aerobatic ballet routine, spotlit and dangling from hundreds of giant white helium balloons, and Eros Ramazzotti performed on the beach. We left just as Milla Jovovich was trying to force her way in past an epilepsy-inducing assault of flash guns. The smart money arrived and left by yacht, of course. Such is Bodrum.
During the summer season, Bodrum is awash with the feelgood factor. And on this July’s visit, we found the epicenter of it: Maçakizi. We can’t recommend it enough.
Maçakizi is a hotel and beach club, stuffed with Rifat Obzek-designed cushions and Matteo Thun bathrooms, conveniently – ahem – located next to one of the most luxe residential detox clinics in the world. There’s also a Nuxe spa in Maçakizi itself. Guests arrive from Istanbul by yacht and seaplane, alighting amid clouds of cigar smoke and trails of brightly coloured Pucci chiffon. If this rings Eurotrash alarm bells, rest easy – although the body self-conscious or thrifty would do well to give it a wide berth.
Maçakizi feels off the radar, but at the same time, the place to be. Waterfront decking creates a horseshoe shape around the coastline, with a bar, restaurant and DJ at the centre, and a fine dining spot on the cliffs above. Geese swim past, the Med sparkles, the Veuve flows, that Daft Punk song plays (yes, that one), and the beautiful people party until sundown. It’s like Nikki Beach gone right. If you haven’t planned your summer vacation yet, we can’t recommend it enough. It might just be the best beach club in the world. C