The fairy chimneys of Cappadocia...

...grace the front pages of glossy travel brochures for Turkey tourism, and rightly so. Any trip to Turkey without passing through Cappadocia is incomplete, and any trip with the area on the itinerary is sure to result in satisfied customers.

August 2006.
We chose Goreme, one of the hubs of tourism in Cappadocia (pronounced Kap-a-dok-ia and meaning "land of the beautiful horses") for our home base. We arrived in Goreme in the wee small hours of the morning, and we quickly located Elif Star Cave Hotel, which took us in with open arms.

Having wasted the previous day, we thought the better of sleeping for a few hours that morning and instead opted to join a day long tour of Cappadocia to squeeze in all the sights.

Our guide was a bright and bubbly Turk who had recently served his "sentence" in the military and who, he revealed to us, had earlier traveled around the USA as a "carnie," where he doled out funnel cakes in places as diverse and varied as Pagosa Springs, CO and Kankakee, IL. Will wonders never cease? The answer is probably no, since what he introduced us to that day certainly qualified.

First stop was an overlook of the Pigeon Valley, an ideal site to get an eyeful of the chimneys. These chimneys were created by volcanic eruptions of three nearby volcanoes, which covered the area in a thick layer of volcanic tufa and topped it with a smaller dollop of volcanic basalt.
Eons of wind and water erosion wore the soft tufa down, creating individual pillars of light colored tufa with caps of the darker basalt. Locals began referring to the formations as chimneys, believing them to be the only surface-level indicia of fairy houses beneath the ground's surface. And we can see the resemblance on some. In others, we see mushrooms, while others undeniably look phallic. At any rate, in Pigeon Valley nearby cliffs made of the same soft tufa had been carved out by early Christians into honeycomb shapes of niches for pigeons.
We speculate they may have wanted to attract the rats of the sky for an occasional feast, but our guide insisted the Christians merely wanted the pigeons around for their dung (good for fertilizer) and their shells (good for a base plaster layer for frescoes on cave walls).

A good hour of driving found us at the underground city of Derinkuyu, a most impressive site. Originally scratched out by Hittites in the second millenia BC, these cities were conceived of as sanctuaries during invasions of enemies. They carved two stories down, stabling their animals on the higher level, and they invented all manner of ingenious ways of killing, maiming and outsmarting any threat that dared try to broach their subterranean citadel. Later, in the early days of Christianity, converts (who were at the time persecuted legally by Roman overlords) happened upon these cities, expanding them and making them more sophisticated so as to accommodate thousands of people for months at a time. They planned the city carefully, drilling fifty three ventilation shafts, which were each several stories deep, through which the inhabitants below would receive light, fresh air, water, and a means of transport to move waste up and provisions down. Indeed, during one period of Christian persecution, ten thousand troglodytes lived in the underground city for two months. This was possible because the city stretched across several square kilometers and plunged down eight stories - up to eighty five meters deep. Each city was linked to others via secret but sealable passageways, so that should all the shafts of one city be covered by persecutors, the inhabitants could easily escape to an adjoining dwelling to wait out the danger and wear out their welcome in relative safety.

Midway through our subterranean tour the notion of safety was on our minds a bit as well when our overly cheeky carney guide (do they come any other way?) decided to make funny by showing us how easy it would be to carve out a new room in the cave. As he thrust a moderately large rock into the roof of one of the caves we were shocked and a bit dismayed at how much of the roof above our heads fell to the floor with his vigorous motions. The guide assured us that we were safe because these caves had been in use since Ionian times, but remembering that we were well over 30 meters down at that point and that the Ionians had the good sense to limit their tunnel lust to just two underground layers, we politely suggested that with too much scraping we would not be able to hear his witty jokes. Tour guides the world over simply love their corny jokes, so, true to form, we were quickly ushered through a long narrow passageway into the next chamber.

Appropriately, based on the fact that several members of our party believed that they had been saved from an overactive tour guide and some too crumbly walls, the next room on the tour was one of several large churches in the underground city. Like most religious buildings that eventually served as a Christian prayer facilities, this church was carved in the shape of a cross and displayed remnants of several biblical images near the nave. Unlike most churches we have been to however, this structure was sealed off by a large and very heavy looking mill-stone. Apparently, in times of crisis, these mill stones were rolled in place to block the tunnel-like entrance to the church because such heavy stone could not be moved from the other side due to the inability of a person in such a small tunnel to gain sufficient leverage. On the church side of the tunnel a small room was carved out so that the mill stone could be moved in and out of place as needed with the help of a long wooden fulcrum. The finishing touch on this architectural innovation was the inclusion of a small hole in the middle of the mill stone that would enable someone standing inside the church to thrust a sharp spear into the would be attackers on the other side of the wall. We guessed that the collection plates grew especially full on days on which ushers were required to perform such services on behalf of the assembled congregation.

After our assent back into the light, and after yet another healthy dose of sun screen, our tour leader escorted by foot into a nearby canyon and past some additional religious facilities. This church was carved into the side of the canyon wall and was etched from a much more durable type of stone. This tougher building material gave way to a more refined end result but surely a less secure congregation as defensive elements were very limited. In form this second church reminded us a bit of the magnificent rose colored structures we saw in Petra but in both grandeur and detail Petra made a more impressive showing.

By this time we had seen our fill of churches, and our bellies were grumbling. We had been travelling so quickly to get to Capadocia, that we had eaten very little. Upon learning that a free lunch was waiting for us at the end of a short and lovely walk along the valley floor we tightened up our shoe laces and bolted the several kilometers between us and our next feeding.
Fortunately, a friendly and famished group of Italians kept up with our feverish pace so that when we all arrived at the appointed lunch spot ready to sit down and eat we collectively looked a bit less desperate.

The Capadocia region of Turkey is awash with interesting things to see and do, so after our lunch and after a quick dip in the pleasant cool stream that cut through the canyon floor we made our way by bus to a caravanserai. This ancient Muslim building looks like a cross between a temple and a fort and as our guide explained it takes this peculiar form for good reason. For centuries the Silk Road, which connected Istanbul to Beijing (although when we were in Xian we remember a tour guide telling us that Xian was the end point for the Silk Road) was dotted with places at which travelers and traders could bed down for a few days when their teams needed a break. Not unlike the motels, fuel stations, and burger joints along Route 66, these outposts were conveniently located somewhere near the limit of where a team of fully loaded camels and horses could travel in one day.

Apparently the distance between these Silk Road roadhouses varied according to the conditions of the country in which they were located. In the 100 plus degree heat in which we were standing as we listened to this factoid, it was easy to imagine that the relatively short distance of 40 kilometers was about as far as your could drag yourself in central Turkey.

Those who chose to stay in this particular break point were treated to some fairly modest luxuries. In their heyday the 15 metre high walls of the caravanserai contained opulent fountains, religious buildings, places to shop and eat and large rooms for animal storage. We were shocked that a.) the structure had no designated sleeping facilities and that during cold nights 'guests' just slept in the animal storage chambers with their livestock; and b.) for the privilege of sleeping on the floor amid the camels, horses and who knows what else that was pulled along between Asia and Europe, each group had to pay a fraction of a percentage of what they were transporting. Unless you were the unlucky soul who had decided to move fresh produce or dairy products from China to Turkey, this hefty fee made the caravanserai sound to us like an exceptionally poor value for money.

Once back in Goreme, the small town in Cappadocia we chose to call home during our visit to the region, we pondered out a value for money dilemma of our own. As we have zig-zaged across the globe we have crossed paths with numerous other travelers who have traipsed through Turkey and who have also found themselves in Capadocia. Each and every one of them has made some comment about how amazing the famous Capadocia hot air balloon trips are, but a decent number of them have admitted that the 200 plus dollar price tag per person on the 1 hour trip was too steep to justify and that their plan was to come back and do it later in life. We too are on a limited budget for this trip and based on what we have spent so far that one hour ride would cost us over 4 days of our budget. Nevertheless, taking into account how costly it would be to get ourselves back to Turkey and also trying to put into perspective what 460 bucks would mean to us once we were back home, we decided to leave our spend-thrift ways on the ground and let Cappadocia balloons take us for a ride. As we slunk down the stairs of our hotel and reluctantly admitted that we had decided to pay the fee for the flight the hotel owner informed us that there were no spaces available for several days. At first we suspected that this was another wily ploy on the part of the hotel owner to get us to stay a few more days, but further inquiries in town at several balloon companies confirmed what she had said. At first we were disappointed by the news, as we had been looking forward to the pricey balloon trip for several months, but as we pondered our savings and remembered how much we had teetered on the fence before having actually made up our minds, we felt better about what had happened and declared that that 'savings' would be well applied to some other exciting adventure at some other time. Such is the skewed financial logic of a traveler at the end of his road, we supposed.

Despite the quasi disappointment, we were in for a good night. We chowed down on cheap Turkish grub - kebabs, which are sandwiches filled with tomatoes, lettuce, shaved meat and other extra veggies - and then we wandered the quaint little town of Goreme (backpackery, to be sure, but in a laid back, quaint sort of way), with its carpet shops, jewelery stores, and open air restaurants. After Steven had praised every dog in the village, we settled down at a terraced cafe overlooking the little town, satellite dishes and stone houses peppered among the rocky spires - many of which themselves housed some sort of shop, hotel or restaurant. We gazed down at the pedestrians, lazily meandering about, ultimately plunking down on bean bags under the canopy of a hookah cafe, and we watched as the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon, sinking past the rocky cliffs in the distance and imbuing the town with mauve hues.
Later, we marched back to our hotel, excited by our choice of lodgings, because we were to spend the night in a cave ourselves. The Elif Star rooms back into a cliff and are carved out of its soft stone, such that entering our room threshold, we stepped into the rock. The ceiling was low, and the room was cool - a nice change after the heat of the day. But it was well stocked with a fluffy comforter and the walls decorated with attractive Turkish rugs to keep the night chill out. We knew we were in for a good sleep.

The next morning, after a leisurely breakfast of french toast - with real maple syrup, one of those things we hadn't come across in ages - we made our way to the Goreme Open Air Museum, one of the region's highlights. Set about a kilometer away from Goreme, it was an easy but sweaty walk, so by the time we arrived we were grateful to plunge into the cool, dark interiors of the many churches, monasteries, convents, and dining rooms etched into the nearby cliffs and the fairy chimneys. So many churches in such a little space! These early believers must have been exceptionally devout, given the number of buildings devoted to worship, study, and communion, one right next to another. Many of the churches (and even a few dining halls) boasted fine frescoes depicting the life of Jesus, Mary and various disciples, including John, Peter, and Lazarus - all followers of Jesus who were said to have concluded their preaching circuits in Turkey. Usually, a plaster base layer was applied to the walls that was made of pigeon shells, and then the frescoes were painted on top with pigments made from local flowers and plants. We also had to conclude, though, that these early believers must not have been very concerned - or, at the least, very aware - of public safety and hygiene because, in almost every church we entered, we saw a multitude of coffin-shaped holes in the ground of the church, usually not more than a foot deep, where the dead were buried.

Here's to hoping the water supply was safely located a long way away.

And that concluded our visit to Cappadocia. We wish we would have stayed longer, lingering amongst the chimneys and taking in the views from multiple angles. But the schedule called, and we had to get ourselves to Istanbul (which was once called Constantinople) in a hurry.

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