Turkey's turquoise coast - the hottest new escape for British travellers

There are hotels, and then there are places that feel like entire worlds. Sherwood Exclusive Kemer is one of the latter. Set between the glittering Mediterranean and the looming Taurus Mountains, it's a resort that doesn't just pamper you with cocktails and cabanas, but sweeps you into Turkey's extraordinary crossroads - where East meets West, where three empires rose and fell, and where the past still whispers from stone and sea.

Sherwood is vast - it can host up to 1,300 guests - yet it never feels crowded. That's the magic of 130,000 square metres landscaped with palms, fir trees and banana groves. Bougainvillea climbs up whitewashed balconies, and the air is perfumed with oleander and jasmine.

You move between 11 pools and 12 slides in what is said to be the largest aqua park in the region. Children race shrieking down flumes so fast they're convinced they'll never stop until they blast into the pool. For little ones, there are shallow child-friendly pools shaded by palms. For adults, quiet corners where the mountains are reflected perfectly in still turquoise water.

By the beach, two long piers stretch out to sea. At one end, cabanas with four-poster beds for those who want glamour; at the other, the hum of watersports - parasails blooming like carnival balloons, jet skis buzzing like hornets, and a new craze, motorised wing foiling, that makes surfers look as if they're levitating.

It's the little things that make Sherwood sparkle. Like the waiters who don't just serve drinks, they perform them - skating across the pool terrace on roller skates, balancing mojitos with a grin, high-fiving children as they go. One afternoon a barman winked as he placed a concoction in front of me: "This cocktail exists only once," he said. "Enjoy it - tomorrow it will never exist again."

Or the two women in the hotel gardens, perched cross-legged at a hotplate, flipping gozleme - paper-thin pancakes stuffed with cheese and herbs - straight from the pan into your hand, still sizzling.

Dining here feels like a world tour. Eight restaurants in all: five à la carte (Turkish, Italian, seafood, steakhouse, Asian), two snack bars, and one mega international buffet where you can wander from sushi to kebabs to gelato in the time it takes to top up your wine. Street food stalls serve flatbreads and sizzling meat skewers until late, and the 24-hour café is where night owls sip Turkish tea from hourglass glasses and swap stories.

Everywhere you look, something is happening. Pottery classes, archery, paddleboarding lessons, impromptu dance workshops. One family I chatted to had spent the morning painting bowls, the afternoon on the slides, and were already signed up for beach yoga the next day.

It feels less like a hotel and more like a village fête stretched across a Mediterranean paradise.

Then there are the nights. A ten-piece band weaving Turkish rhythms into Western anthems, DJs sending lasers dancing across the bay, Elvis impersonators swivelling their hips as children squeal. One evening I found myself watching teenagers dance wildly to a Madonna remix that melted seamlessly into a Turkish folk song. This is Turkey in microcosm: East and West colliding, and nobody wants it to end.

Step outside Sherwood and adventure continues. Down at Moonlight Bay, we joined an evening cruise aboard a pirate ship so tall it looked borrowed from Pirates of the Caribbean. The decks rang with music and laughter.

At the helm was Captain Fatih - known locally as "the Legend of Kemer." Thirty years at sea, sailor's cap perched proudly, he didn't just steer - he danced. Through the crowd he moved, pulling passengers into conga lines, twirling children, raising glasses with grandparents. "I can make anyone dance," he declared. And by the time we docked, he had.

One of our guides put it simply: "Turkey is where the whole world meets." He was right.

Here, three great empires - Roman, Byzantine, Ottoman - rose and fell. They left their mark in mosaics, amphitheatres, carved tombs and domes. "People came here, they created, they made art," the guide said, "and that tradition still carries on."

The streets are full of it: colourful shops selling hand-loomed textiles, antique kilim rugs and slippers in jewel tones, saffron-scented Turkish delight, dried fruit glistening like jewels, and antique Ottoman mirrors and ceramics glowing in the sun.

In Myra (today's Demre), you can still stand in the stone theatre where Alexander the Great accepted the surrender of the city in 334 BC. Above it, honeycombs of Lycian tombs are carved into the cliff - their façades like upturned boats, testament to a people who built beauty into the rock. The place is a reminder that history here is not distant - it's under your feet.

Nearby lies the Church of St Nicholas, the 6th-century basilica of the man who became Father Christmas. Pilgrims still come to pay homage at his sarcophagus, in a town where gladiators once fought below and saints prayed above.

But nothing compares to Kekova, where an earthquake long ago dropped an entire city into the sea.

Drifting over in a glass-bottom boat, you see it shimmer beneath the waves: Roman walls neatly bevelled, staircases leading nowhere, alleyways half-buried in sand. Half-submerged Lycian houses carved from massive rock, doorways and lintels still visible under the water.

We floated above ancient port walls, the sea so clear they looked close enough to touch. Starfish clung to stone steps that once led merchants down to their ships. In a bay we anchored and swam, suspended above history, the ruins ghostly below, the mountains rising green and stern above.

As we drifted past a tiny island, only reachable by boat, a solitary Lycian sarcophagus loomed from the water, its stone lid shaped like an upturned hull. Looking up, we saw more tombs scattered across the hillside. A scene unchanged since the Lycians thrived here, more than 2,000 years ago.

And when the sun finally broke after endless blue skies, I ducked into Kemer town. Thunder rolled off the mountains, the call to prayer echoed across rooftops, and I found myself sipping beer at a bar called Deja Vu. A little snapshot of what Turkey is all about: unpredictable, layered, alive.

All of it framed by the Taurus Mountains. At dawn, they shine silver; by afternoon, green and gold; by dusk, pink and purple. Behind you, the peaks; before you, the Mediterranean. Between them, Sherwood Exclusive Kemer sprawls like a carnival in the garden of empires.

So why Sherwood, and why now? Because Turkey is rewriting the resort holiday. It's not just cheap sun. It's a storybook you step into.

Here, roller-skating waiters, pirate captains, mountain sunsets and Lycian tombs all belong in the same week. You'll eat gozleme in a garden, stand where Alexander once stood, and swim above cities lost to earthquakes.

It's playful, it's generous, and it's Turkey at its best: where East and West meet, and where the past is never far away.

If you go:

Flights: Direct London-Antalya, 4.5 hours. Transfer: 60 minutes.

Who it suits: Families (aqua park, kids' pools, endless activities); couples (mountains, cabanas, romance at sea).

When to go: Spring/autumn for ease, summer for energy.

Prices: From £950pp for seven nights all-inclusive with flights and transfers. Pirate ship cruises from £30.

More info: www.sherwoodhotels.com.tr