Rug-a-dub-dub

Turkey is quite different to the Middle East. You notice a change in scenery immediately; the roads are better, there is more colour, better buildings, solar power, etc. Our independent memories of a previous journey here encouraged an expectation that Turkey would be easy-going compared with where we had just been. In my opinion, Turkey is one of the best travel destinations I have so far visited.

A night in Antakya did not tickle our fancy so we shot through to Cappadocia, roughly in the centre of modern Turkey. After more than 10 hours on a bus we finally alighted in magical Göreme. Truth be known, it was photos of Cappadocia's whimsical "fairy chimneys", rippling pink tufa valleys, and troglodyte accommodation that inspired me to start travelling back in 1998.




Cave No. 6 (below) of the Shoe String Pension was particularly hospitable. We bumped into Mark there, a great guy I went to law school with in Canberra. We became quite friendly over a few Efis beers and a backgammon board. Weisie and I also befriended one of the owners, Isa, who spent a considerable amount of time driving us all over Cappadocia in search of the perfect carpet.




We ended up purchasing two very special hand-made, woollen pieces: a traditional-looking rug (carpet) and something called a "suzzani", which apparently differs from the ubiquitous "kilim" in that it is woven on the floor without the aid of a loom. Both were naturally dyed and well-worn from domestic use. We dedicated three days to researching and haggling (over apple tea) and were pleased with the result - that is, until we had to carry them home (they added 12kgs to our already bulging luggage). Choosing just the right carpet is a daunting and time consuming endeavour.




The list of natural and man-made wonders in the region would make this a very long and potentially (even more) boring blog. I will therefore limit myself to a short tale about a long walk through "Pigeon Valley" in Göreme. We were guided by two friendly dogs, Bingo & Keno, who waited patiently by an unseen path every time I was sure of a short cut. The dogs probably saved us from spending a night out in the cold (although I secretly relished the possibility of having to rely on my well-honed survival skills). On this one day, we weathered four seasons (from sun to rain to snow), inspected colourful, old cave-churches, undertook some ad hoc archaeology, watched pigeons do back-flips, and paused under a number of trees growing mistletoe...

Below, Keno is pictured looking out over the so-called "Love Valley".




My journal (22/02/05):

We departed Göreme on a glorious day. Bought our last pide [Turkish pizza] from our favourite restaurant for the journey to Konya through the vast Anatolian steppes, flanked by distant snow-capped peaks. We were in the cradle of civilisation - I could feel it. Konya was not the conservative backwater we had expected. It was huge, green, had trams, trains and a real bus system... The walk to the hotel hurt - our bags were laden, but a kindly political refugee from Iran helped us carry them. Mark was staying at the same hotel! We dropped our bags intent on the museum but were accosted by a carpet salesman called Elvis who entertained us in his shop for 3 hours on various topics, especially Islam - he was well read and very objective.

We went to Konya primarily to visit nearby Çatalhöyük and see the remains of the oldest and largest Neolithic Age city yet found (dating from circa 6,500 BC). The effort to get to the site was monumental. We hitched a ride part of the way and the driver decided to check out the site with us. Together with the museum/site keeper we were an odd bunch (below, making our way to the main dig site) but we were the only people there and had the site to ourselves. You would have to be archaeology buffs to enjoy this place - we absolutely loved it.




Our penultimate destination in Turkey was Eğirdir - a place that is difficult to pronounce but lovely beyond words. On the way there, we witnessed a number of families sending their sons off to the military for compulsory service (there was music, much kissing of hands and foreheads, wailing and tears). When we finally arrived at the tranquil lake-side town of Eğirdir, Mark waved at us from a window in a hostel nestled high on the crowded peninsular. He kindly ran down to help us cart our bags up the hill. The hostel provided a marvellous panorama of the lake and nearby mountains.




Mark, Weisie and I spent a few days cooking, eating, drinking and playing backgammon (usually against the quick-tempered but likeable Muslem, who was a student living in the hostel). We spent one day trekking along part of St Paul's trail passing goats, flowers, springs and snow, to the top of the Mt Sivridaği pictured above. It was hard work but the views were magnificent. In a saddle near the summit were the ruins of a roman villa. Its relative inaccessibility meant that artefacts were still strewn all over the place - Mark and I found some wonderful fragments of plates and decorated jars.




We finally left Mark to finish his epic journey through Turkey. We made for Istanbul (12 hours on a bus) and stayed in the hotel district near the Topkapi Palace. Colette, who we first encountered in Jordan and later in Syria, paid a surprise visit and we shared a final meal together nearby. Unfortunately, my laptop computer died the next day (which is why it has taken so long to post this leg of our journey). But thankfully, after much money and messing about, it was fixed and our photos of Istanbul were salvaged.




One of the highlights of Istanbul was quite literally the highlights - the ones Weisie had put in her hair. We both tidied ourselves up for job interviews that were scheduled to take place the day after our return to London. But before that ordeal, we first passed through Athens, a city we have visited several times and adore. The Acropolis, however, did not hold us in awe as it once did. I suppose that happens to you after a couple of months on a road like the one behind us.