Hopefully one day I’ll get around to detailing Olympos, where I had a great and relaxing few days, clambered beautiful ruins, breathed the gas of the eternal flame, met some good folks, and tried to stay dry in the road-closing, power-cutting downpour. But not today. Today we’re jumping ahead (and we’re still behind) to central Anatolia, and the balloon-monitored unusualness that is Cappadocia.

Cappadcia has apparently become of the world’s most popular tourism spots, which helps explain why it managed to feel somewhat busy even in the depths of low season. Makes sense though – while it bears some resemblance to the badlands of Alberta, the landscape is like nowhere else, nevermind the huge ancient settlements carved into the sides of the valleys and the rock spires scattered everywhere you look. As usual, the most interesting and rewarding day was farthest from the most touristed spots, involving long hikes down isolated valleys and a romp up what appears to be the last un-touristified old village spire in the area. After many hours of walking, we (we being myself and a Czech couple I met when we disembarked from the same bus in the early morning) came to Çavuşin on a whim between valley hikes, and after tea, started wandering up the massive stone spire at the end of the village, beside a small gorge. We made it about halfway up, and, having decided not to brave a very rickety ladder barely perched on a small ledge, were about to head down in search of another path when a Turkish teenager appeared above us. I asked him how to surmount the large ledge in front of us, and he explained, in serviceable English, that we could either go down and around, or he could help us scramble up the face. Obviously we went with the latter, and a few moments later he was showing us to the ancient church cut into the face of the cliff. The frescoes weren’t as well preserved as some of the other churches we’d found, but the isolation combined with its size and the adventure of reaching it (a narrow ledge with large gaps) made it easily the most memorable. The rest of the old cave city was equally rewarding, full of connecting passages and beautiful views of the town on one side and the plain on the other. From here we walked ridges back to town, and ended another day in the fabulous Göreme teahouse.

The food in Göreme left much to be desired, being a very dissatisfying combination of unappetizing and expensive, but the teahouse was perfect. We actually asked our hostel-owners if they’d make us dinner the second night, after the first day had been so disappointing, but they demurred, and we later bumped into the chef playing cards with his buddies at the teahouse, which explains the reticence. I approve of his priorities. Anyway, the teahouse. Windows permanently steamed, it was full at all hours, although we always managed to snag a (often the last) table. It was exactly what you’d imagine a teahouse to be in a country where drinking is uncommon – full of (mostly older) men talking, playing backgammon or cards or some extra-complicated cross between rummy and dominoes. The tea was cheap and delicious, and when we left the waiter never had any idea how many we’d had, which makes sense, as no one could keep track of so many tables and so many teas, and they didn’t bother to write things down. We stopped in at least half a dozen times in our three days, and always left happy and warm. It is a good place.

I could go on about the landscape, or upload some of the hundreds ( :s ) of photos I’ve taken, but Cappadocia is already long behind, so I’ll move things along momentarily. The one other standout moment came at the end of our last day. We’d watched the sunset with a busfull or three of asian tourists from a popular rock, and were taking the scenic route back to town in an attempt to use up all of the gas we’d put in the rental car. We stopped at a small town near Göreme to check out the castle (closed) and decided to have a nose around to see if we could find something edible and reasonably priced before returning to the culinary wasteland from whence we came. Juri was craving pide (turkish pizza) and there was a small, fluorescent-lit shop near the castle. We approached, saw no food or customers, and almost turned back, but decided to forge ahead. The proprietor was sweeping towards the back, and assured us he was open, though he only had cheese or meat pide today. We went for two cheese and a meat, and sat down at the only table, squeeze between the till and the drink/ingredient fridge, to wait. We proceeded to watch him roll out the dough before pausing to throw a single massive log into the huge brick oven at the back of the restaurant. It didn’t take long before our three long, skinny pizzas were sitting inside the red-glowing oven, toasting by the open fire. Turkish pizza, it transpires is very simple, but when freshly fire baked, very, very good. The cheese was basically just bread/dough wrapped around cheesy goodness, served with lemon, chilli, and cilantro. It was divine. On the way back to the car, we grabbed three doner ‘for the road’ and managed to be much better fed and much more full for much less than we’d spent in Göreme. A very successful end to a successful day (day also included underground city and canyon hike. City especially was very cool).

And then on to Ankara, and then on to Safranbolu, which is peaceful and pretty and between the new town and the old town, a great combination of small and sleepy and beautiful and cheap and just big enough. More on that later, though.