Reflections on Turkey

Up at 5 a.m., we grabbed a quick breakfast and were on the bus for the airport by 6:30. It was an hour drive, and we got to see quite a number of balloons landing or packing up along the road. Another bus with about 40 Chinese tourists arrived just ahead of us, so the sleepy little airport had long lines.

The flight to Istanbul was uneventful, and once at the airport there we said our farewells to our tour leader and group members. We had a bit of a wait for the flight to Frankfurt, which was delayed due to some sort of air traffic control issue. That made our connection in Frankfurt very tight, so we had to move at a very fast pace through that airport.

Frankfurt to Chicago is a 9.5 hour flight, and the plane was a 747. We thought all of those had been retired, but this old bird was still flying. Mark managed to sleep a little, but Mary was not as fortunate. It turned out that the woman seated next to us was also returning from an OAT trip, but in Norway, not Turkey.

We finally arrived in Minneapolis about 11 p.m., and Katherine was kind enough to be our taxi. We got to bed about midnight -- roughly 27 hours after we had awakened in Cappadocia. We were very tired, but jet lag is strange, and we were up early again the next morning.

Turkey is a beautiful country. The time of year helped, because the winter rains make springtime very green. But the land is more lush and fertile than one imagines, especially along the coastal areas. Cappadocia has its own kind of desert beauty.

Another striking feature of Turkey is its blending of east and west. Turks like to think of themselves as Europeans (even though they make a big deal in Istanbul about spanning two continents). Western Turkey is very secular, with younger women dressing in European fashion, and almost no one pausing when the call to prayer sounds from the minarets. But as one goes farther east, the conservatism is dress and religious observance is quite obvious.

Smoking is something we had to get used to. Something like 60% to 70% of Turks smoke -- in the west, that includes many women, as well as men. We've gotten used to smokeless public spaces in the U.S., but smoke is everywhere in Turkey.

People asked us why we would go to Turkey, and why we weren't worried about safety there. Turkey has had its problems with political division and terrorism slipping across the border from Syria, but we generally felt as safe there as we would feel in any unfamiliar place in the U.S. We, too, have political division and mass shootings.

We would recommend visiting Turkey. We had a great time.

Kaymakli Underground (updated)

Hot air balloon rides at dawn are a big business in Cappadocia. More than 100 balloons launch every morning before the sun rises. It’s pricey and the balloons are big (up to 24 passengers in one basket). We said “no thanks” to that deal. But about three bus loads of Asian tourists staying in our hotel were very excited about it, and they were yelling and whooping in the hallway outside our room at 4 a.m.

So, after trying in vain for an hour to get back to sleep, we got up and went out on our balcony to see the balloons. Only 30-35 were visible from our vantage point, but it was still fun to see. As long as we were up anyway, that is.

At 7 a.m. we again met our group leader and one other member of our group for a hike in the countryside. We took a different trail this time — longer, flatter, and a bit more barren than yesterday.

Just about a block from the hotel we picked up a couple of escorts. Dogs roam freely here, whether owned or stray, so long as they have an ear tag indicating that they have been vaccinated. Perhaps thinking we would lead them to breakfast, these two mutts joined us and stayed with us most of the hike.

The larger one was part Anatolian Shepherd. He stayed behind us to herd us, and he even stuck his nose into the back of my knew once when I stopped to take a picture, urging me to move on and stay with the herd!

The smaller one could have been part Vizsla — in color and temperament, if not by blood. He scouted in front of us, sometimes ranging far and wide like a hunting dog to flush out any birds or other animals in our path.

It was kind of funny, but Mary did not appreciate strange dogs in such close proximity. The dogs mysteriously disappeared about 3 miles into our 3.3 mile hike. They must have finally decided we had nothing for them.

After a shower and breakfast we were on the bus to the ghost town village of Kaymakli. Here we visited one of the more than 300 “underground cities” of Cappadocia. Caves for shelter were dug into this soft rock beginning in the stone ages. But in the early centuries of the Christian era, when Roman patrols came to round up Christians, simple caves were expanded into vast, underground labyrinths.

An entire village could disappear underground, along with much of their livestock. Food was stored to enable survival for long periods. Wineries, grinding mills, churches, communal kitchens, and more were carved into solid rock. In the case of this city, ingeniously hidden ventilation shafts carried fresh air down to seven levels deep. It was amazing.

These cities were used off and on during times of persecution, war, bandit attacks, and other calamities into the Ottoman period, with generation after generation adding spaces as needed. Some of the passages were so small that a few people in our group turned back. These are not cities for the claustrophobic.

From here the bus drove us to the Pasabaglari Natural History Site. This is a formation of stone chimneys — some with dug out caves, others not — that are only slightly unique, but which are protected. We were given an hour free here, but it was blistering hot with very little shade, so most of the group finished early.

In keeping with the underground theme, we ate at a very upscale restaurant that is completely under ground. The proprietors found an area of rock that had not previously been dug, and using modern machinery in 2006, tunneled in deep to create kitchens, storage rooms, and six large dining rooms, all opening into a central, domed atrium. The ambiance was great, the soup and salad pretty average, but the main course was a stew, slow-cooked in a clay pot — a traditional local dish. It was very good.

Following lunch, the group voted unanimously to spend an hour in Goreme, where we had dinner the previous night, in order to see the scenic town in daylight and/or to visit the shops there. Even Mary did a little bit of shopping — just enough to use up our last few Turkish Lira.

After a couple hours of R and R back at the hotel, we took the bus once again to our Farewell Dinner. Ersin did the OAT thing of reviewing the trip in detail, but took forever to do so. The meal was very good, and we even had decent red wine, a first for Turkey.

We catch a plane early in the morning to begin the long trip home.

Pigeon Valley

The sun was streaming through our hotel room window by 5 a.m. and we were up at 6. At 7 a.m. we joined our tour leader and one other member of the group for an early morning hike through the Pigeon Valley.

The Valley gets its name from the many bird shelters that were carved into the soft stone among the strange rock formations that go on here for many miles. It’s sort of Turkey’s answer to the Badlands of South Dakota, except that people have lived here for thousands of years. They carved cave homes for themselves in the soft rock, but they also carved roosts for birds so that the droppings could be gathered for fertilizer.

Getting down into the Valley was something of an ordeal. The path was very steep, and wherever there was loose sand or gravel things got very slippery. Once down, we were surprised at how much vegetation there was. There is water at the bottom, and it tends to be much cooler.

Once we got used to the fact that there was grass and shrubbery on the valley floor, the next surprise was agriculture. There are vegetable gardens and orchards hidden down here that we could not make out from the top. Some have elaborate irrigation systems in place.

We passed a cave home that appeared to be occupied. Our approach was announced by a very large and protective kangal — a breed of dog unique to Turkey, also known as an Anatolian Shepherd. Fortunately, it was on a chain. They have a reputation for being viciously loyal to their owners.

An elderly woman, working in her garden, noted our passing. Ersin, our tour leader, indicated that she probably does not live in the cave year round, but only part time in the garden season. She would have a more modern home in town.

The views in the valley were quite stunning, and the work of the cave carvers over the centuries is fascinating. One can easily spot the few cave dwellings still in use, because they almost always have an electrical power source and a satellite dish.

We finished our hike in the next village, called Göreme, almost 3 miles from our starting point. Just about the time we were realizing that we were entering a different village, and had not circled back to our starting point, Ersin surprised us by having our bus waiting there to whisk us back to the hotel.

We had about and hour to shower, change, and grab breakfast before joining the entire group back on the same bus to retrace our route and return to Göreme once again. This time the bus let us off at the Göreme Outdoor Museum.

From about the 4th century AD until the 10th or 11th century, this had been a Christian monastery devoted to St. Basil. The monk cells, refectories, churches, and tomb chapels were all carved from the rock. Frescoes on the walls of the churches date back 1,000 years, and the caves have done a fine job of preserving them.

Photos are not allowed in the caves in the museum, but everyone was sneaking a few when the guards weren’t looking. There were lots of photos, however, that we only wished we could have taken.

In the refectories, the rock carvers had taken care to leave stone tables and benches as unmovable furniture. In the adjacent kitchens, the ceilings were still blackened from cooking fires. Since there were no chimneys, those who cooked must have been constantly breathing smoke.

While the three churches and two chapels we visited were all wonders to behold, the final church (which few people even seemed to notice, because it is outside of the museum, down by the tour bus parking lot) was by far the largest and the most impressive. I wish we could have photographed the detailed and very well preserved frescoes here.

The bus took us from the museum to an overlook where we could view a formation known as the “Three Beauties,” or the three “Fairy Chimneys” of Cappadocia.

Another photo opportunity was at a spot known as the “Valley of Imagination.” The shapes here remind viewers of various things. The camel formation is fairly obvious, but for many of the others, one must use his or her imagination (hence the name).

We overheard a guide from another group pointing out a rock formation that remind some of J-Lo (pop singer Jennifer Lopez). That one required more imagination than we could muster.

A final photo stop provided a panorama of the valley, but it was already 93 degrees Fahrenheit in this barren, shadeless land, so we weren’t eager to linger.

The bus took us on to yet another village, Avanos, where we stopped for lunch at a restaurant on the banks of the Red River — the largest river that both starts and ends within Turkey. Because we have all been eating so much, and because of the heat, we all opted to skip straight to dessert.

Genuine Turkish ice cream is very hard, and in this location, unlike the street vendors, it is served in slabs in the traditional way. It was quite good.

We had some rest and refreshment time at the hotel. Ours was longer than for some in the group, as they chose to buy the optional performance by Whirling Dervishes. We had seen a similar performance in Egypt some years ago, so opted out.

When the Durvish performance ended, the entire group went together to a late dinner. 

Silk Road

Bright and early we walked out of Old Town to get to the bus, and then left Antalya for good. It would be a long bus ride to Uçhisar, just outside of Nevşehir, in the Kapydokya region, as the Turks call it. The Bible calls it Cappadocia.

We traveled on modern, interstate-like, divided highways almost all the way, following the route of the ancient Silk Road. Much as highways in parts of Europe paved over Roman roads, our guide told us that they had literally poured asphalt over the old caravan trail.

Several places along the way we saw, still standing and renovated “caravansarai.” Literally, caravan palaces — though there was nothing palatial about them, even when they were built by the Seljuk emperors in the 12th century AD.

These mini-fortresses were spaced approximately a day’s travel by camel, and were provided as a way of subsidizing the silk trade. Caravans could stay the night for free, protected from bandits. They could feed and water themselves and their animals at government expense for up to three nights, but then they had to keep moving.

We traveled into the Taurus Mountains to an altitude of nearly 6,000 feet about sea level, where there were pine forests. Then we descended onto a high plateau where opium poppies are grown. In Turkey, this crop is highly regulated.

Farmers must be granted a permit for a certain number of acres, and their market is a single customer, the government. At this time of year the poppies are flowering in beautiful white and vivid purple.

Our lunch stop was in the city of Konya. This is considered to be one of the most conservative areas in Turkey, and one can see immediately that almost all of the women are observing hijab in their attire. The big draw here is the monastery where the “whirling dervishes” or Sufi sect was originally formed, more than 700 years ago.

Rumi, the founder of the order, and other key figures in the origin of Sufism, are buried here. Muslims come from all over the world to pay their respects, even though the monastery is no longer in use and there are no live Dervishes here. Officially, it is a museum. But the mosque is still used.

While visiting here, we were approached by a couple of groups of young women. They were a class of high school students who had been brought to the museum by their English teacher with the assignment to find some English speakers and have a conversation. A couple of the girls were clearly enjoying it, and the others were along for the ride. But when they found out we were Americans, they thought they had hit the jackpot. It was fun to chat with them.

The land in this area is about as flat as anywhere on the planet. Rainfall is scarce, and the population density is pretty thin. Small towns with grain bins and stacks of hay bales could have been in Kansas or Utah, if the mosque and minarets were simply swapped for a church and steeple.

We finally reached our destination about 6 p.m. A day on a bus is tiring, even when you aren’t the one driving. We had another big dinner, after which we were pretty much ready for bed.

Perga

Breakfast on the terrace was, again, very pleasant, but we could tell from the start that today was going to be a hot one. Indeed, it was 88F by noon. We had to walk out of Old Town, as the bus cannot get through the narrow, winding streets.

Our destination: the ancient ruins of Perga (PER-geh), only about 10 miles away but with morning traffic nearly an hour’s drive. Founded by Bronze Age Hittites, ruled by Persians, Greeks, Romans and Byzantines, Perga has been around a long time. But most of what is visible today dates from Roman times, roughly the 2nd century AD.

We had seen most of Perga’s treasures yesterday in the museum, but there is still plenty left to see. A fortified city gate still welcomes visitors. Just inside, a large agora is to the right and a huge, very well preserved Roman bath is to the left. We decided that, much like today, women probably went to shop while men waited at the bath, which also functioned very much as a men’s social club.

A bit farther in along the main street is the old Greek city gate. When the Romans expanded the walls they left this old gate in place. It no longer was part of the fortifications, but held many statues of the city’s founders, of emperors and their wives, and of the gods (now all museum pieces), so it served as a memorial.

The main street of Perga must have been a wonder to behold in its day. Gently sloping up hill toward the acropolis, it consisted of two wide lanes separated by a flowing stream of water. Along both sides were wide, covered sidewalks. The roof was held up by great marble pillars, and mosaics made up the walking surface.

At the top end of the street, a giant fountain issued the water that would flow down the median, and the fountain was fed by diverting water from a nearby river, which was also the waterway by which Roman ships brought goods up from the Mediterranean Sea.

Not much has been excavated on either side of this central thoroughfare, but digging here is still underway. It is unusual to be able to visit a still active archaeological site.

On the way out, we walked through the stadium — the city’s sports arena — also quite well preserved. There is also a theater here, but we did not visit it. There is another theater nearby, at another Roman city, Aspendos. We will visit there shortly. And besides, it’s getting very hot!

On the way to Aspendos we stopped at a very small restaurant (if one could even call it that — more like the front yard of a house, with tables and chairs). Here, two elderly women were rolling out dough and baking it over a wood fire. An elderly man was shuttling wood to the fire from a wood pile somewhere out back.

They were making gözleme, which is basically a “pancake” stuffed with cheese. They were delicious, and we each got two, served with a “salad” of fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and olives, and accompanied by a fresh-squeezed mixture of orange and pomegranate juices, all for 20 Turkish Lira — about $3.35 U.S. Amazing!

Aspendos was not far from the restaurant. Very little has been excavated here, but the theater has been in almost constant use (though not always as a theater) since its construction 1800 years ago. It is, therefore, one of the best preserved Roman theaters we have seen anywhere.

 

Despite the heat, we climbed into the cavea, or seating area. Mark made it to the top, 40 rows up. Coming down was the difficult part. The pitch is steep and there are no railings, but the view from the top was worth the effort.

Aspendos is also known for its remarkably engineered aqueduct system, which remains largely intact. The bus drove us out to a place where we could get a panorama of the length, which unfortunately is difficult to capture in a photo. But we were also up close to a very small segment where we could see how it was built.

Back at the hotel by late afternoon, it was a good day to cool off at the pool. Our German friend was showing herself once again, but we ignored her and read our books. Then after showers, we adjourned to the bar across the street, where the local beer is incredibly cheap, the rock music is loud, and we are by far the oldest customers in the place. A great way to end a very hot day.