Villa Dundar Apart Hotel in Kas

I initially left just a rating, but after the host messaged me directly asking me to change it and responded here, I’ll go into detail.

Main reason was getting shocked by their dishwasher 2 times. It was minor but those appliances draw a strong current and in retrospect I got lucky something worse didn’t happen.

The kicker was that I negotiated a price with Anya’s husband. When we arrived, they refused to honor that price unless it was paid in cash. When I pressed, he told me I should be grateful to be staying at Villa Dundar and I should actually be paying double. None of this is to mention the piles of dead ants, broken screens that let in mosquitos, constant construction noise, broken shower door … like I said I originally didn’t think it was worth getting into but they messaged me and begged me to change the rating.

If you want to charge high season prices, your property should be prepared to host guests !

The locals we spent time with in Kaş agreed that the situation was ridiculous, that Turkish people would never have stayed one night. Next time I’ll think like a Turk.

UPDATE: ERDEM HAS SENT THREATENING MESSAGES AND POSTED FAKE NEGATIVE REVIEWS ON MY BUSINESS PROFILE IN RETALIATION. I HAVE FILED COMPLAINTS WITH GOOGLE AND TURKISH AUTHORITIES. BE CAREFUL.
Kaş was the destination we had saved for last, the final stop on a journey through Türkiye that had taken us to 15 different accommodations, each with its own charm. We had hoped to end on a high. Instead, we left counting the hours until we could check out.

We arrived in searing heat with two young children, expecting at least a warm welcome. Instead, we were met by a woman who spoke only Ukrainian — no Turkish, no English — and could only communicate through a phone translation app. We’re fluent in both Turkish and English, but neither was an option. From the outset, even the simplest exchange felt like a challenge.

She warned us not to drink the tap water. In every other place we’d stayed on this trip, we were provided complimentary bottled water — a small courtesy, but an important one. Here, there was nothing. No welcome bottle, no jug in the fridge. Just a laminated sheet informing us we could buy a 15-litre container for €15–20. With no nearby shops and 35°C heat, we had no choice but to get straight back in the car to find supplies.

Later that evening, we tried to cook for the children, only to find the stove didn’t work. The gas bottle was not working (You need to turn a physical bottle and off), and the numbers provided for assistance went unanswered. My husband eventually found the same woman downstairs, who admitted she didn’t know what to do and called her daughter, Anna — one of the owners.

Soon after, Anna’s husband, Erdem, rang. I explained that we had no functioning stove, and no way to communicate in Turkish or English. His response stunned me. He called me “weird” and “strange” for expecting those things in a very defensive way, including the ability to speak to someone in the national language. He then told me, “If you don’t like it, pack up and leave,” despite it being 8pm with two distressed children.

Anna arrived shortly after with a replacement gas bottle. But ten minutes later she returned, saying Erdem was wanting a list of all my complaints. I told her I would speak with her once my children were settled. To her credit, she respected that and left.

The disappointments didn’t end there. The online listing stated the apartment had a washing machine — it didn’t. The attic layout, with low sloped ceilings, made the kitchen and dining area awkward to use. The showers were cramped. The pool looked murky. The nearest shop is 2.5km away, up and down hills that’s not realistic on foot with children.

The only bright spot was the cleaner. She went out of her way to help, even offering to wash our clothes at no charge to make up for the missing amenities. Her kindness stood in stark contrast to the owners’ attitude.

Kaş itself is worth visiting. But this property, in its current state, is not. We left disappointed, frustrated, and certain of one thing — we won’t be back.