Ankara is a city of eras laid over each other, and the old quarter around the citadel is where you feel them most. This mosque, named after Ahi Şerefeddin, belongs to the thirteenth-century Seljuk and early Anatolian beylik period in the hilly Ulus district, close to the citadel walls. The name Ahi points to something characteristic of medieval Anatolia: the Ahi brotherhoods, associations of craftsmen and tradesmen that combined guild, charity and a code of honour, and that held real influence in cities where the central power was weak. I can say less about the building than about the neighbourhood, so treat this as a stop for atmosphere.
The old town of Ankara sits on a rocky hill above a flat plain, and the streets climb around the walls past wooden houses, craft workshops and small cafes. From the top of the citadel you look out over a sea of apartment blocks to the hills beyond, and on clear days see the Anıtkabir, the mausoleum of Atatürk, standing on its own rise. Ankara became the capital of the new Turkish republic in 1923, a modest town of dusty streets chosen partly because it was far from the coast, and today it holds more than three and a half million people.
Do not skip the Museum of Anatolian Civilizations, a restored Ottoman bazaar near the citadel, which holds a superb collection of Hittite, Phrygian and earlier finds from across the plateau. It makes sense of everything you ride past in the countryside.
Riding in central Ankara is for the patient, with heavy traffic, one-way systems and steep, narrow streets near the citadel, so the best approach is to park and walk. Ride out on a Sunday morning to see the city at its quietest. Fuel and food are everywhere, with simit, the sesame bread rings, sold from carts, and kebab houses in every street. The city sits at about nine hundred metres, so summers are hot and dry but evenings are cool, and winters bring snow and wind. May, June and September are the best months.