Join me for the olive harvest in Turkey with my Turkish in‑laws
- Emely Freja Petersen
- 5 days ago
- 4 min read
In Turkey, autumn marks the start of the olive harvest. It’s the time when villages come alive, and generations gather in the groves to carry on the traditions.
I’m so lucky that my Turkish boyfriend Ender and his family have the most beautiful olive groves, and I’ve been allowed to join the harvest in a small mountain area not far from their charming little house and self-sufficient garden. Here, time moves a little slower, and you really feel the nature and elements around you.
Click on the arrows on the pictures to enlarge them and read the captions.
Family tradition
Although it sounds idyllic and truly allows you to be present in the moment—becoming a meditative practice—and even though I consider myself very active, olive harvesting is not for the faint-hearted. Wow, it’s hard work! By the end of each day, we were completely exhausted and went to bed like lights!
I’ve participated a little before, but this was the first time I experienced the entire process from start to finish. It’s amazing, and the result is truly liquid gold!
Even though Ender’s grandparents are over 80 years old, they naturally wanted to help—but we took care of most of the heavy work. While we labored and sweated, grandma made sure the most delicious, nourishing lunches were ready for us. Sometimes we had a picnic under the olive trees, other times the food awaited us when we returned, tired but happy.
There was something magical about sitting in the shade and eating her homemade dishes, made with the kind of love that only exists in Turkish grandma kitchens. I would always choose grandma’s food over a Michelin-starred restaurant!
The process
In Ender’s family, olives have always been hand-picked, or small rakes are gently run through the branches. Longer branches can be used to knock down the top olives. We lay out large tarps underneath and collect the olives this way. This year, however, we had an electric rake, which was really heavy to lift. I did as much as I could, but without Ender, I don’t know what we would have done.
We gather the olives into large sacks, and when we get home, we filter out the leaves on a bamboo ramp that Ender’s grandfather built himself. As you can probably tell, I’m a big fan of them and have the utmost respect for their lifestyle and how they make and do everything themselves. I hope this year’s olive harvest opens the door for us to learn from them and, hopefully, carry their knowledge and traditions of living in harmony with nature forward.
In the old days, the olives were carried down in baskets on donkeys. They even pressed the oil themselves on stone mills with the help of donkeys. Today, we load the olives into our pickup truck and take them to a factory that presses them for us.
From 420 kilo to 72 liters of liquid gold
After four days of hard work, we collected 420 kilos of olives. Four hundred and twenty kilos! This was pressed into 72 liters of the purest, most natural, organic olive oil—without chemicals, additives, or filters. Just pure nature. And I promise, it’s the best olive oil in the world.
And that’s just one grove! We still have another grove to harvest next week! After we finished the first groove we rewarded ourselves with a good scrub and a massage at a Turkish Hamam.
There’s a very special feeling in bottling your own oil—knowing that it comes from trees in a small, lush valley high up in the mountains, nourished by winter rain and the sun’s warmth. Every drop is the result of decades of careful attention, hard work, and a culture passed down through generations.
When I first met Ender’s family, they teased me about how little olive oil I used. Now, Ender and I go through at least 30 liters a year!
The oil isn’t sold; the whole family uses it generously. I can’t imagine a meal without that delicious oil anymore—it’s worth every bit of the hard work!
You cannot eat an olive straight from the tree. They must first be prepared, for example by soaking them in a brine for several weeks—the classic way to make them edible in our region. I don’t enjoy eating olives myself, but I love the oil!
The Olive Tree in Turkey – A Heritage Older Than Civilizations
Turkey is one of the oldest regions for olive cultivation in the world. Archaeological evidence of olive production along the Anatolian coast dates back to the Bronze Age. The olive tree has always symbolized peace, fertility, and prosperity—and in Turkey, it has been an indispensable part of everyday life: liquid gold.
Olive trees can live for hundreds of years. In parts of Muğla (where we live), there are trees so old that no one knows who planted them. They simply stand there as quiet witnesses to history. And what beauty they are! In this country, olives are not just an ingredient—they are cultural heritage, tradition, family, and identity.
A Loving Reminder
I’ve lived in Turkey since 2019, and I just love this unique, wonderful country. The nature, the food, the culture, the hospitality… and all the little experiences that weave themselves into your heart.
Everyone should experience the real Turkey, nothing like the fake Gucci stores, flashy restaurants, and people shouting at you.
If you also dream of experiencing authentic Turkey, you are welcome to join our trips:
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