Religious Immersion

This blog has become rather laughably behind my actual travels, but blogging while on the road is quite difficult (since I’m doing things during the day) and so I’m going to just keep plowing through! This blog post covers the city of Konya, which we visited after Cappadocia.

We got into Konya in late afternoon and made our way by tram (the city has an incredible tramway system – so fast, efficient, and easy to use) to the downtown. We had found a couchsurfing host in Konya and we realized that our maps weren’t giving us a location. We stopped in Alaadin Tepesi, a nice green park in the centre of Konya to chill out and call Mustafa, our host.  We had to wait a bit for him to pick up, but it was a nice place to relax. When Mustafa finally picked up, he directed us further downtown towards the Mevlâna Museum, which is essentially the heart of the city.

Konya is an incredibly conservative and religious city, and my Lonely Planet describes it as being the Turkish equivalent to the Bible-belt in the States. This was, however, some of the appeal of visiting the city in the first place, for the fascinating religious sites.

Dark skies as we arrived in Konya - and lots of mosques.

The Selimiye Mosque, right in the heart of the downtown, beside Mevlana's Tomb, which you can see as the turquoise fluted dome.

 We finally found our way to Mustafa’s place, which was actually the café he runs, called Hiç Hane. The location was perfect, being just a few hundred metres from the Mevlâna Museum. And the café itself was an incredible place. It was mostly dark, with dim lights above the tables with sheet music as lampshades. There was a stage, lit with red light, where there were a few traditional Turkish instruments waiting to be played. The roof seemed to just be a tarp, but even when it was pouring rain everything stayed nice and dry and a comfortable temperature. There was interesting artwork on the walls and a tree growing up from the middle of the floor up through the ceiling. There was a large open area in front of the stage, where Mustafa told us there were sometimes whirling dervish performances – he himself danced and taught the whirling dervish spinning. A whirling dervish is someone who participates in  the old religious tradition of performing the sema, a ritual practice in which the dervishes spin continuously to find union with God. It was created in Konya after the death of Rumi – the Mevlâna – as a codification of the spontaneous spinning Rumi sometimes engaged in. Seeing the dervishes is one of the main reasons we came to Konya. But anyway, more on that later.

Kids playing outside, behind Mustafa's cafe.

The upper floor of the cafe, looking down. You can see the stage in the top left corner.

The Hiç Hane stage, lit up nicely.

 Çağatay, a server who worked at the café served us çay, and we just relaxed for a bit. There was a young girl hanging around, whose name we learned was Mariam (I am guessing on the exact pronunciation and spelling, but I think that’s what it was). Mariam would soon become our best friend in Konya. Mariam’s mother, whose name I never quite caught, we soon learned was an employee at Hiç Hane also

We went for dinner at a nearby restaurant, and then returned to the café. Mustafa told us he’d bring us back to his home to sleep, so we had to wait a while for the café to close up. It wasn’t too bad – we got the wifi password and were able to do some planning, and we Mariam proved to be a precocious and outgoing four-year-old, who was a lot of fun to play with despite the language barriers. One of the things I love about kids is that they are have no inhibitions about language. Mariam was well aware that we had very, very little Turkish, and that she had virtually no English, but that didn’t stop her from chatting away with us and often expecting a response. I get the impression that both her mother and Çağatay had better English than they would use, but were perhaps lacking the confidence to try. I noticed this, too, among students at METU using English – they were almost embarrassed to try in front of a native speaker. And the same can be said for my Turkish – sometimes I’m just too shy. But it’s not the same for kids, and that makes things a lot more fun.

Mevlana's tomb lit up at night. I really am obsessed by the turquoise dome - I think it's beautiful and you're going to see a lot of photos of it.

 Eventually, they closed up the café and it was time to head off. We went outside and found ourselves being ushered into a camper van. It was somewhere around this time that we realized that everyone we were with all lived together – Mustafa, Çağatay, Mariam and her mother. They seemed to be a ragtag group of friends, especially for Turkey and even more especially for Konya, seeing as it is so conservative. Mariam’s mother appeared to be a single mother and Mariam’s father did not seem to be in the picture. Mustafa told us he had a son, but the son didn’t seem to live with him. Çağatay was significantly younger than the other two (closer in age to Jess and I), but we had no idea of his story. Anyway, we were off, rattling around in the back seat of the camper, again chatting away with Mariam and wondering what exactly was happening. Not to say that we were uncomfortable or scared or unsafe (beyond the constant unsafe feeling of driving in Turkey, but that’s besides the point) – our hosts gave off a very nice vibe and seemed to be wholly genuine and unthreatening.

“Canadians!” came Mustafa’s voice booming from the front of the camper. “Do you want to drink some wine?” We were tired from a half day in Cappadocia and then the bus travel to Konya, but it wasn’t yet too late, so we consented. A few minutes later, we received another update – “I got a call from my friend, he’s having a barbecue, and he has invited us all, I hope that is ok”. We shrugged – why not? It was already proving to be an interesting evening.

We finally stopped at on a backstreet off in some corner of Konya, where we got out in front of what looked like an abandoned storefront. All the other stores along the street had those metal garage-door-like covers pulled down. Ours was open, and a light was on, but there was nothing in the windows. In front of the storefront was a barbecue with chicken roasting away, and a group of men sitting around and chatting.

We were introduced to everyone there, and they were all so friendly – we learned that they were all sculptures and artists of one sort or another, and many of them worked with Mustafa in selling their art. This also explained the location – the ‘store’ was actually the workspace for one of the sculptors – we toured around it a bit, and between the plaster dust, and broken statues and empty çay glasses were thousands – if not millions, seriously – of plaster sculptors. Many were of whirling dervishes – THE statue that fills every souvenir shop in Konya. Interesting to know that they aren’t all made in China, anyway!

Plaster dervishes!

A dervish mold.

Jess and Mariam being cuties exploring the warehouse.

A dervish standing stoically on the other side of warehouse mess.

The work room.

 The barbecue chicken was outright delicious, simple and tasty. We were also served beer and wine. And while we usually had no idea what was going on in the conversation, it was fun to be there.

But we were still exhausted, and getting more and more. When we finally packed up the barbecue and loaded back into the camper, we were grateful to be heading to bed.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t everyone else’s plan. We soon realized that everyone at the barbecue had also come home to Mustafa’s. Mustafa’s place – again, shared with his friends – would perhaps be best described as a hippy house. There was cool art and instruments on the walls, and lots of area to sit on the floor. Everyone crowded inside and sat on the floor, drinking wine and chatting. Meanwhile we were fading fast but tried to keep up with social etiquette by sitting with everyone. We hadn’t been told where we’d sleep or given any other directions. Mustafa himself seemed to disappear for a bit, I guess outside to talk on the phone or have a smoke.

Finally, Çağatay seemed to take pity on Jess and finally someone told us where we could sleep. Either we could have the couch in the main room, where everyone was still awake, chatting and drinking, or we could have Çağatay’s single bed. His room was actually disastrously messy – and those who have seen my own room will know that when I say it, it must REALLY be messy – but we opted for it anyway, since it was a private room away from the noise.

It was a fitful night. Our hosts stayed up late, and at one point Mariam woke up crying. Luckily, we didn’t have much to do the next day and we didn’t feel guilty about sleeping in. Nor about the late start we had as we waited for our hosts. Mustafa’s house was QUITE a ways from the downtown, so we had to wait for everyone to get ready before we could crowd back into the caravan and take it back downtown.

In the morning, waiting to head back downtown, Mariam asked Jess to paint her face. Adorable!

 When we got back to the café, we all had breakfast together. It was actually so nice, and the food was good, and even though there was still a major language barrier between many of us, at least we were breaking bread together and enjoying each other’s company. Here, I also discovered rose jam. I can’t believe I had been in Turkey this long and not had rose jam. It’s just rose flavoured jam but WOW I THINK IT’S DELICIOUS. This breakfast spurred a passion for rose-flavoured foods since then.

After our meal (sometime after midday) we finally headed out into the city, and walked to the nearby Mevlâna’s Tomb and Museum. Mevlâna is the religious name for Rumi, a poet and religious philosopher from the 13^th century. He is associated with Sufism, and is known especially for tolerance in his teachings.

Mevlana's Tomb.

That lovely turquoise dome.

 The tradition of the whirling dervishes – known officially as the Mevlevi – was inspired by the philosophy, teachings, and practice of Rumi after his death, and the Museum was once a dervish lodge (where the whirling dervishes lived and trained and worshiped). The Museum had a number of Mevlevi relics, including many of the possessions of Rumi himself. Some of the rooms were set up to replicate as they would have looked at the time, allowing visitors to get a sense of how the Mevlevi would have lived. The kitchen building was perhaps the most interesting, showing the practice boards of the whirling dervishes, and showing/describing the process of a new devotee joining the lodge.

Then we went into the tomb itself. It was strange building, with a strange vibe because on one hand it is officially a museum and there are items in cases with descriptions, etc., and people chatting quietly as they sometimes do in museums – but since there were so many people crowded there it combined to make a general commotion that wasn’t all that quiet. And then on the other hand was the fact that this place still very much has religious meaning and importance to a lot of Muslims as it’s the place where the Mevlâna’s body lies – a site of pilgrimage. So a lot of people were praying and chanting around the tomb itself, but other people were just pushing forward to get photos and there were security guards asking everyone to just keep moving. I expected the tomb to be a quiet place of reverence, but that’s not really what I experienced. I acknowledge also that the prayer methods of Muslims – and specifically Sufis or their descendants – are different from those that I’m familiar with, but the experience gave me a lot to think about and process in terms of what some people consider to be an important religious experience for their selves. It was not what I expected but I feel like, after some long reflection, I will be able to say I learned something there.

The tomb from the gardens.

Mannequins showing dervish teachers and students. In the foreground, you can see the board used to practice spinning.

Dervish mannequins in the Mevlana Museum.

 The building itself was absolutely beautiful, especially Rumi’s tomb. It was big and ornate, surrounded by the tombs of his friends and followers, and the walls and ceiling were even more ornate. There were some other religious relics in the building, such as a miniscule Qu’ran that was so small it made the calligraphist blind, and some of the Prophet Muhammed’s beard. Again, there was much religious reverence, but not in a quiet and calm way. Anyway, it was all very interesting to look see.

The intricate art above Rumi's tomb, and the tomb itself down at the bottom. The turban size indicates the importance of the person buried there - Rumi's was of course the biggest in the room.

Tilework near Rumi's tomb.

The tomb, from outside.

 Afterwards we sat outside in the garden areas around the tomb and enjoyed the sun and warm weather in the grass. Here, Jess decided she was rather tired and wanted to take a break from sightseeing, and I embarked on a bit of at “mosque crawl”. Since Konya is known for its religious conservatism, why not explore that by seeing some of its best mosques. I checked out two mosques, the Aziziye Camii and the Sahib-i Ata Mosque complex, plus a historical madrasa – a school where the Qu’ran is taught – called the Sıraçalı Medresi. I really enjoyed the Aziziye Mosque – it was beautiful inside and out, and very calming. The Sahib-i Ata Mosque was much more simple and plain, but also much busier – and while I didn’t have enough time to see the attached museum in detail, I did get to see the intricate tiled interior, which was cool.

Outside of the Aziziye Camii.

Inside the Aziziye Camii.

I liked this door in the side of the Aziziye Camii.

Gate to the Sahib-i Ata Camii

Inside the Sahib-i Ata Camii.

Red brick and blue tiles of the Sahib-i Ata museum, a former dervish lodge.

The Sıraçalı Medresi. Along the back wall you can see the pretty blue tiles, many of which have fallen away. Then lighting of this picture doesn't quite capture their beauty, but isn't that true of a lot of pictures?

The outside of the Medresi.

When I met up again with Jess, we grabbed some dinner and then headed to the Mevlâna Cultural Centre – we were going to see the Mevlevi – whirling dervishes – perform live.

On the way to the cultural centre, we passed a monument to Konya's fighters who had died in the Turkish war of independence. It was a very pretty monument. 

Wooden columns of the war memorial.

The walkway in front of the war memorial - flags and cannons!

Every Saturday, the Mevlevi perform their ritual, the sema, for free for anyone who wants to watch. We grabbed a decent seat near the front and settled in, not knowing exactly what to expect.

There was spoken introduction, all in Turkish. We couldn’t understand of course, and it was hard to tell if what was being said was a story, a background on the ritual, or some part of the worship itself. It seemed to carry on for quite some while. But then finally the dervishes entered the arena.

The sema was fascinating. It was very ritualistic, with a lot of repetition, and sometimes I wondered how long a particular part of the show would continue. But at the same time, I was awed by the precision, the concentration, and of course the spinning. The entire ceremony does not involve spinning, but a good portion of it does. There was background music, almost haunting. The whirling itself was rather simple, in that each dervish simply spun around while moving in the larger circle around the arena. But in practice, this was quite an impressive feat. For an individual to spin, arms raised above their head, for so long, at a constant speed, while keeping the same pace as everyone else, was just mind-boggling to me. And when each dervish stopped they didn’t appear dizzy at all! They were able to immediately walk (backwards) in a straight line, and that was just so amazing to me.

The arena, before the ceremony.

The dervishes enter the arena. Their black cloaks symbolize their connection to the material world.

The dervishes in a line.

The dervishes kneeling. The "Master" of the ceremony is lit up.

The dervishes walk in a circle, bowing to the Master, 

After three circles, the dervishes drop their cloaks.

They begin spinning. The Master keeps his black cloak, and circles around the dervishes to ensure the ritual is being performed properly.

Dervishes spinning.

Whirling.

You can see the Master walking among the dervishes.

Spin.

Whirl.

Twirl.

Then the light went green.

Overall I found watching the ceremony humbling. This is a unique form of worship, and I had never seen anything like it before in my life. I won’t pretend that I fully understood every part of the ceremony, but I’m so glad I got to see it, and I think it will stick in my mind for quite a while.

After the ceremony, we headed back to Mustafa’s café. They served us fruit and nuts and çay (which was incredibly generous!) and we listened to a small live duo play acoustic 90s Turkish pop and traditional songs. It was a great atmosphere, though again we found ourselves outright exhausted at the end of the night!

Again, that turquoise fluted dome, which we passed at night on the way home - beautiful, as always.

In the cafe, listening to live music. Great ambiance.

Again, people came back to the house with us, but this time we just went to straight to bed – back into the close quarters of the single bed – since we had to get up early to catch our bus the next morning.

And so the next morning we arose early and headed out – Çağatay and some local kittens saw us off – and headed back to the bus station. Thus ended our time in Konya, and we headed off to Eğirdir, which would be nearly the opposite in experiences. I appreciated Konya, because I think it gave me a lot to think about in terms of Islamic traditions and practices, and I feel I learned a lot about the faith. Sure, Sufism is perhaps just one branch of the Islamic tradition, but it's an important one, and gaining insights into it have, I think, helped me understand Islam better. And that's just one of the many things I hoped to do in this country!

Kittens saying goodbye to us on behalf of Konya!

Real Time Update: Since I’m going to probably be behind for the rest of my travels, I’m going to make the Real Time Update a regular thing. I’m writing this from a family-owned pension in Sinop, up on the northern Black Sea coast of Turkey. We’re headed east now, along the coast – it’s incredibly beautiful!

Goodbye Ankara, Hello Jess

My time in Ankara and at the Middle East Technical Institute has come to an end. It's a strange feeling, being done my undergraduate degree, but it's an even stranger feeling to be saying goodbye to my home and friends from the past four months.

My last few days in Ankara were a mix between packing, saying my goodbyes to friends, and trying to show Jess around a bit. I took Jess to my favourite neighbourhood restaurant for ciğer (if you’re a dedicated blog reader, you’ll remember that is liver) the night she arrived, then spent the rest of the evening editing my last undergrad essay and catching up.

The next morning, we went into the old town area of Ulus, which I’ve written about in one of my earliest posts about Ankara. We visited the old Roman baths, which I hadn’t seen yet. They were a little underwhelming, but still cool to visualize a time in which Ankara was a Roman settlement. I also saw and learned about some Roman ruins which were found where I wait for the dolmuş every morning, so that was pretty cool too.

The Roman baths.

The baths

The large pool at the entrance to the baths.

Temple of Augustus and Rome, a Roman temple which is now partially converted into a mosque and partially preserved as it was, which we passed on our way up from the baths to the castle.

Next, we headed up to the Ankara castle again, and here we ran into my language tandem partner, Oğuz, and my German friend, Tobi, with whom we had been planning to meet up on campus later in the evening. They waited while we took a tour of the castle, and then we joined them to explore the Museum of Anatolian Civilizations. I had been meaning to hit up this museum for ages – I heard it was really quite good – but as many people know, it’s actually rare that you are a tourist in your own city unless you make a really concerted effort. Anyway, I was glad that Jess’ arrival finally gave me an excuse to go. It was a very cool museum, with artefacts spanning from prehistory to the Ottoman period. It was perhaps the best-labelled (in English) museum I’ve seen yet in Turkey, and there were some really cool gems.

Jess in the Ankara castle.

The Museum of Anatolian Civilizations. The building itself, which you can see has very high ceilings was once a sort of hotel for Silk Road traders.

In the Museum of Anatolian Civilizations

After the museum, Tobi led us through a market which I didn’t know existed, and then to dinner. We eventually all headed back to campus, where we enjoyed a drink of rakı, a traditional Turkish drink that tastes like black licorice, and wine in the METU stadium (which is known colloquially as ‘Devrim’, meaning ‘Revolution’, because the word is painted in large white letters across the seats, despite the best attempts of the university administration – a classic piece of METU student life which I will miss.

The next morning, we returned to campus one last time, for me to bid farewell to the Middle East Technical University campus one last time. I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: It’s a truly beautiful campus and a really nice space to complete a degree.

Me at the sign of the Middle East Technical University. I will miss this place dearly! :(

After a period of packing and cleaning back home, we headed out again, this time to Kızılay, the downtown area, to check out Kocatepe Mosque. I had visited the outside of this mosque during my first week in Ankara, I had visited, but I hadn’t gone in. Finally, I got the chance. The mosque is relatively new, but it is still stunning. The inside is spacious, calming and above-all, beautiful.

Kocatepe Camii

Inside Kocatepe Mosque

The ceiling of Kocatepe Mosque.

At the mosque, we met up with my Italian friend, Nicola, and then my German friend, Janina, some of my last friends left in Ankara, and the last two “Diyarbakır Gang” members left. We had a seafood dinner, and just happened to pick a restaurant not 100 metres from where an excited crowd was forming. You see, the night before was election night in Turkey. In a massive electoral upset, the ruling AK Party lost its majority control of Parliament (for the first time since it came to power in 2004). Meanwhile the HDP, a pro-Kurdish, women’s, and LGBTQ rights party passed the 10% threshold (at a comfortable 13%) to become a recognized party in the Turkish parliament. This was a historic moment, since a pro-Kurdish party had never before reached the threshold (of course, the unusually high threshold of 10% was implemented for precisely this reason). So with this electoral result, (pro-)Kurdish and other liberals were ecstatic. People literally cried when they saw the results – many had never dreamed they would see it in their lifetimes.

The crowd by our restaurant was chanting, waving flags, and holding up peace signs. Some people made speeches. It was exciting and energizing to see HDP flags beside Kurdistan flags beside Turkish flags beside the rainbow LGBTQ flag. Leaving the restaurant, we made sure to slide through crowd and feed off some of the energy.

Crowd forming in downtown Ankara

In the crowd, you can pick out the red Turkish flag, the green, yellow and red Kurdish flag AND the rainbow Pride flag, all in a sea of HDP flags. What a momentous event to witness live in Turkey!

Meeting my kitten quota: This lil guy is probably too young to be sold, though we saw him at a pet shop downtown. But of interest is that her breed is 'Ankara'. The fluffy white with stunning blue eyes originate here in Ankara. 

The four of us had a coffee in another little shop, chatting away, but finally it was time to say goodbye. The finality of this goodbye made me the saddest yet, and to be honest I had to blink back some tears.

The next morning (after a long night of packing – it always takes me forever, and most of it is always done last minute. I’ve come to accept it as just a reality) I said goodbye to my fantastic flatmates (though I think I’ll be seeing them again soon, so the sadness wasn’t overwhelming) and we headed out early to the bus station. It took us about five hours to finally reach Göreme, in Cappadocia. I visited Cappadocia back in March with a group of other international students, but this visit would prove to be incredibly different and a whole new experience for me.

As soon as we arrived, we were itching to get out and explore. Two prominent valleys have their trail heads just outside of Göreme, so we thought we’d start there. The sun was hot and intense, and there were only a handful of fluffy white clouds in the bright blue sky (this is going to become especially important later).

We hiked leisurely through the first part of the valley, gawking at the incredible geological structures and exploring caves and cave churches. We met some fellow travellers and had some good conversations with them.

Cool geology, just outside of Göreme,

Jess, awestruck by Cappadocia,

From atop a "fairy chimney", looking out over Cappadocia towards Uçhisar.

Vineyards below huge rock formations.

Looking out towards the distinctive colours of Rose and Red Valleys (which we never reached - do read on).

Stones arches along the path.

Then we signage towards the valleys we wanted became less and less clear. A man selling oranges at a crossroads told us one route was closed, and directed us down a new path, but again it quickly became unclear what the proper route was. However, we weren’t too worried – there was so much to see around us, and we thought we’d peer into a particularly extensive looking cave.

Extensive it was, indeed. It appeared to have been a house or something, and tt was a full three stories, with spiral(ish) staircases and everything. Of course, these huge caves are a little eerie but with a good flashlight app on our phones, we got caught up in peering into every nook and cranny.

Looking out from the cave at the cliffs.

Jess peering from a second-story cave window.

Up on the third level, we noticed there was a narrow path leading along the edge of the cliff, and we thought it might lead to additional caves. We followed it, and while we realized it wasn’t bringing us to more cliffs, there did seem to be some semblance of a path continuing onwards, with more interesting things to explore. And so we followed.

We went over rocks and through meadows and even crawled through a cramped tunnel (seriously, right on our stomachs with no room to move our heads) and were generally having the time of our lives.

Jess climbing into a narrow tunnel.

And then the dark clouds came.

Perhaps because of the cliffs and/or our general distraction, we hadn’t seen them come in. There had been a couple light rain clouds, and there had been some light spitting while we were in the caves, but it had been more refreshing than anything else. Now the clouds were truly ominous and we knew rain was coming.

We checked our phones for our location and the distance back to the nearest real trail. Now is about as good a time as any to really sell what I think is the most incredible phone app since Instagram (just kidding, I think it’s waaaaaaay better than Instagram): Maps.Me. Jess introduced me to this app when she arrived and I have fallen immediately in love (with the app, not her, just to clarify – sorry, Jess). Maps.Me allows you to see your exact location, and has super detailed maps not only of cities but also of a lot of trails and dirt roads in the country. You can downloads maps for literally the entire world. And you don’t need to have wifi or cell service on – it just uses the free location finder on your phone. It has been incredible to travel with this app – it has made life incredibly easy for us already and we’re only a week into our travels.

So anyway, we could always turn back from where we were, but at this point that seemed like it would be longer than simply connecting up with a closer trail, and there was no guarantee we wouldn’t get even more lost and find ourselves stuck somewhere. Not only were the dark clouds coming in, but we were starting to become very cognizant of the disappearing daylight hours – already it was late afternoon, and especially if the sky was obscuring the sun, we didn’t know how soon it might become truly dark.

Using our GPS, we directed ourselves towards the closest trail, and scrambled up some cliffs to the top of a ridge. Then the skies opened up. It didn’t take long for us to be soaked. And we realized very quickly from the ridge we were on that there was at least one other valley between us and the path, and that even getting down from the ledge into the next valley, let alone getting up the other side, was next to impossible. And then there was a lot of thunder and lightning and we realized we were not in a very good place for that to be happening.

The next little while is a bit of a blur, but I remember running, crouched, across a field, and we eventually clambered down a few metres from the top of the cliff to try to consult the GPS in the semi-dryness of an overhanging rock. Of course, now the phone wouldn’t even pick up GPS signal. Anyway, the thunder and lightning moved on a bit in the sky, and there were some (very) brief lulls in the rain, and we reassessed our plan. Instead of trying to cross back to the trail, we figured we could instead follow some dirt roads, used by the local farmers to reach their vineyards, to get back to a REAL road, and then work out a way to get back to Göreme. It would be longer, but at least there was a better path to follow.

Dark clouds approaching.

A valley between us and where we wanted to be.

And so we trudged, through the rain and the cold – it was truly cold now with the wind and rain, and sometimes we thought the rain was in fact hail, since the drops were so cold and sharp – as fast as we could along these windy dirt roads, consulting our GPS frequently, until we finally – FINALLY – emerged onto a paved road. From there, we still had to trek back to a major highway, and the rain just kept pouring down. We sustained ourselves on some ketchup chips which my mom had sent from home via Jess (thanks Mom, it was a huge morale booster at the time). When we finally got to a crossroads, we sheltered in a bus stop. There were two Turkish men there – one told me that the bus they were waiting for would take us back to Göreme, the other said it would not. When the bus arrived, I asked the driver, and he said he’d take us to Nevşehir, the big regional city, not Göreme, but we were so cold and tired that we consented.

When we arrived in Nevşehir, a man on the bus pointed in a general direction and told us we could catch a dolmuş back to Göreme. Unfortunately, we didn’t quite understand his directions, and found ourselves wandering around the city, still cold and still wet. Finally we gave up, and took a taxi back to Göreme. It was much more expensive than we wanted to pay, but at least, finally, we made it back to our hostel, drenched, exhausted and dirty. It was quite the adventure, and we learned a valuable lesson about straying off the path and about preparing ourselves for all weather conditions – we would be much wiser in the days to come.

The next morning, we got up at the ungodly hour of 3:45am. Why? To have the classic tourist-in-Turkey experience of seeing the sunrise over the beautiful landscape in a hot air balloon. And wow, was it ever cool. It was expensive, but oh-so worth it. There’s not much to tell about the process itself, except that to emphasize over and over that it was beautiful. It was beautiful. Really beautiful. Just look at it!

Filling the balloons.

Other balloons filling.

Our balloon starting to rise.

Our captain controlling the heat to begin lift off.

Beginning to rise.

Looking up at the other balloons about us.

Rising together.

First light.

And there is the glorious sun!

The farms below.

Balloons down in the valley.

Panorama of what I could see.

Sunrise is beautiful.

Look at them all.

Balloons over fairy chimneys.

Floating over the scraggly rocks.

Up high.

Up.

The sky just full of them.

After the balloon landed, we thought we’d head over to the Göreme Open-Air museum to see some well-preserved cave churches. I didn’t take too many pictures because a) you’re not supposed to take pictures in the churches, and b) I took most of the pictures I wanted when I came in March. A new highlight for me, though, was seeing the Karanlık Kilise (Dark Church). I had to pay extra for admission but since I get into Turkey’s museums for free (the benefit of being a student in the country for a semester) it was worth it, and allowed me to see something new. Again, there were no pictures allowed, so you’ll have to take my word that the frescos on the walls were simply incredible. Because the church has so little light (hence the name Dark Church), the wall paintings have faded very little over the hundreds and hundreds of years that they’ve been there. Almost every surface of the cave was covered in paintings, and I was the only person inside, making it a very calming place to explore.

After the Open-Air Museum, we also visited the Tokalı Kilise just down the street, also with impressive wall paintings and an interesting basement with old tombs. Again, sorry no pictures L

Engravings above a church door - something I find so fascinating to look at.

The Open-Air Museum. You're looking at an ancient cave nunnery.

On the walk back to Göreme, we decided we still weren't exhausted enough from our early morning rise, so we chose to venture off the road in search of the nearby Saklı Kilise, meaning “Hidden Church”. This is somewhat difficult, since, as the name suggests, the church is hidden. Luckily, as we headed up the cliffs, a man standing nearby who had just recently himself looked for the church was able to give us some pretty precise instructions and tips. The hunt for the church involved a scramble up a steep cliff, and then a walk along a pretty ridge, overlooking Göreme and the nearby valleys, while looking out for a small staircase down to a ledge. We found the church, and while you cannot enter because of a locked metal gate, it was still very cool to peer inside, and appreciate how the church location had been carefully chosen and carved out in order to hide from non-Christian invaders during the Byzantine times.

Jess looking out off the ledge towards Love Valley and Uçhisar.

Looking off the ridge back towards the area we explored (and got lost in) yesterday.

The mystique and glory of the Saklı Kilise or 'Hidden Church'.

Meadow; Uçhisar in the distance.

The afternoon involved a long nap – between the early morning rise for the balloon, and the little sleep the night before that from packing to leave Ankara, I was just plain done.

When we awoke in the early evening, we headed out to the nearby Sunset Point to – you guessed it – watch the sunset. Unfortunately, the sun was obscured by more ominous rain clouds, and we didn’t see much. By the time we got to a restaurant for a late dinner, the rain came down at a torrential rate, and the roads and sidewalks were rivers.

Attempt at a sunset.

Dark skies before torrential rain.

The next morning we decided would be devoted to some serious hiking. We left Göreme in good time, and walked along a ridge of vineyards to the start of Love Valley. I didn’t take a lot of photos in Love Valley, because they’d, again, be very similar to the ones I posted in March, but then as we continued from Love Valley into White Valley, things became new for me. It was a really lovely hike through light forest and meadows between the stunning white valley cliffs, and the only other person we saw was a cheery grape farmer with his tractor. We had a picnic lunch of tantunis (chicken wraps with delicious sauce) in some shady grass, enjoying the smell of wildflowers and the twittering of songbirds.

A new morning, walking through vineyards and fruit trees.

Grapes.

Headed to Love Valley.

We came across a tractor on the path.

Farm walls.

Carved tunnel for rivers and hiking.

Jess, still awestruck.

Love Valley cliffs.

More arches.

White Valley. The view for lunch.

White Valley cliffs.

White Valley path.

 White Valley stretches from Göreme almost to Uçhisar, which has the big cave castle with the best panorama views of Cappadocia, and that’s where we were headed. We emerged from White Valley into some more vineyards, where a man with a fresh fruit juice stand seemed to be waiting just for us, and then walked along dirt roads to Uçhisar.

In Uçhisar, we climbed up the castle for the stunning views, and relaxed there for a while.

Panorama from Uçhisar Castle.

Uçhisar cat.

 To get back to Göreme, we decided we’d hike back through Pigeon Valley, which essentially runs parallel to Love and White Valleys, but on the other side of the highway. I was late afternoon now, so the sun wasn’t as intense, and the light off the cliffs and trees was really relaxing. Again, we saw few others on the route. The section of the valley we hiked was less pigeon-y than other parts of the valley, but that didn’t by any means detract from the beauty. It was nice walk, not too long by any means, and we emerged from the valley right into the town again. After a dinner, we again headed up to Sunset Point for a better view than the night before (though not as perfect as the sunset a few nights later in Eğirdir – you’ll have to read the next post to hear about that).

I thought this old wagon looked cool, leaving Uçhisar.

Looking into Pigeon Valley.

Hiking Pigeon Valley.

In Pigeon Valley.

Jess walking through the trees.

The next morning was our last in Cappadocia. We were headed for Konya in the early afternoon, so we got up in good time to be able to visit the underground city of Kaymaklı. We had to take a combination of bus and dolmuş to get there, but it was cheap and easy to do so. At the transfer in Nevşehir, this is also when we learned how silly it was to take a taxi back to Göreme two days prior during our “adventure” in the rain – the dolmuş stop back to the town had been just steps away from where we were and would have saved us tons of money. Oh well, live and learn.

Everyone knows I'm a cat person, but this puppy kept following me around in Kaymaklı and was just too cute!

 The underground city of Kaymaklı was equally fascinating on my second visit, and the fact that I wasn’t in a big tour group allowed us a bit more flexibility to peer into some particularly dark cave rooms with our phone flashlights. It’s a lot of fun to imagine an eight-story underground city bustling at its height. Pictures in the dark do little good, but Jess did pose as a cave gremlin for this great shot:

A good look for her, no?

Can you spot the demon?

And thus ended our Cappadocia adventure. As I said before, the freedom and the more time outside made it more enjoyable over my last visit, and I was really glad I got to see more stuff there. Then, we were off to Konya for the next set of adventures – hopefully it won’t be long til that post is up too!

P.S. If you’re wondering where I am in real-time, I’m posting this from İzmir, on the west coast of Turkey, 6 nights after leaving Cappadocia. I’m going to try not to get too far behind on blogging, though of course there will always be a delay.