Winter in Fairyland

Turkey is a wacky place. The first person I met in Cappadocia was a Turkish-Macedonian man with whom I could only communicate with in Spanish. You see how complicated things can get here? Anyway, it was a very cold and slippery week, but beautiful nonetheless. Cappadocia reminds me of the American Southwest in many ways. That is, if there were 1,500-years old churches and vast underground cities carved into the rock of Bryce Canyon, Zion and Capitol Reef, then we'd have a real problem with the Turkish tourist brochures. But if you know the Southwest, check out photos of Cappadocia and compare for yourself.


Like many places in Turkey, this region is an incredible collaboration between geology and history. With just one of these elements, the area would be amazing; with the marriage of the two, it's outstanding. First, you have these crazy volcanic rock formations carving into and poking up out of the otherwise desolate landscape. Then, you have Christian hideouts from the Romans and other timid types digging entire cities into the cliffs and deep into the ground, replete with ventilation shafts, narrow winding staircases, hidden tunnels, you name it. On top of all that, you have Byzantine monks carving churches into impossible cliff faces and painting elaborate frescoes inside them. If only it had flying monkeys it could be the Land of Oz.



It was freezing cold and snowing the whole week I was there, putting a slight damper on my explorations. The blanket of snow only accentuated the beauty of the natural features, however, and served the dual purpose of keeping most of the tourists away. The usually very touristy Göreme is a ghost town in wintertime, and during my stay there was eerily quiet. I did a few hikes through some of the canyons, checked out a ton of churches, climbed into a few cliff dwellings, and was too overcome by claustrophobia to go too far down into the underground cities (some are seven levels deep - eek!).


In case of threat by an invading army, roll this stone in front of the only entrance, thereby blocking yourself into a your homey network of carved-out rooms. I guess it made sense at the time, but to me, nothing could be less appealing. Even an invading army.



The canyons are beautiful, and in every nook and cranny, there is something to explore. This area must have been heavily inhabited in it's time, and with each turn, there are homes, pigeon houses, churches, tunnels or storerooms carved into the rock. After a few hours of hiking, you begin to feel like you're being watched.


A bit creepy, but very cool.

More photos on the site (http://picasaweb.google.com.tr/home) as usual.

My warmest greetings to you all,

Deborah