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[1] Colossus Feet

[2] Dry Moat

[3] Greek John

[4] Marmaris

[5] Ataturk

[6] Goreme Panorama

[7] Cappadocia Volcanoes

[8] Hike Pic

[9] Tufa Balance

[10] Tufa Church

[11] Tufa Flows

[12] Tufa Rabbit

[13] Aaron on a horse

[14] Horse Riders

[15] Red Valley View

[16] Rose Valley

[17] Belgian Friends

[18] Selime City

[19] Salime Panorama

[20] Ihlara Gorge

[21] Ihlara River

[22] Silk Road Stop

[23] Underground Winery

[24] Fairy Chimneys

[25] Avanos Pottery

[26] Trail

[27] Rose Valley View

[28] White Valley Friend

[29] Uchisar View
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Merhaba! (Turkish 'hello')
When last I wrote, I was on Santorini Island in
Greece, preparing to depart for Rhodes Island on an overnight
ferry. It was that night that I finally made it to Paros Island,
although it was only for a layover on my way to Rhodes. I spent
most of my time chatting with a young female traveler from Maine
who'd spent close to two years in Japan and traveling in Southeast
Asia. She had only good things to say about her travels. Perhaps
it's because American mainstream culture fosters the view of Asia
as a wild and uncivilized (in the American sense, I suppose) place,
but after meeting many people who've successfully and happily
traveled in both the Middle East and Asia, my desire to visit
those places has grown. Not on this trip however...
Rhodes Island lies just off the coast of Turkey,
and over the course of the past several thousand years, has been
invaded, fortified and shaped by perhaps a half-dozen peoples.
From the Greeks, to the Ottoman and Byzantine Empires, Rhodes
has evolved into a fairly diverse place. Even modern day Greeks
come to vacation at the lush beaches of Lindos. Rhodes was also
the home of the Colossus (a 65m high bronze figure), although
it fell over close to 2500 years ago. Marking where his feet would
have been is a
pair of pillars capped by life-size bronze deer [1]. I have
no idea why that particular kind of memorial was chosen, but the
deer seems to be a symbol for Rhodes now a days (on the various
Rodian governmental icons, there was a deer). Rhodes City is split
between a new town and an old town, and actually reminded me quite
a bit of Carcassone in France - the old town is where the backpackers
like to stay and is where tourist shops as well as traditional
locals live, while new town has a McDonalds and very few buildings
more than 100 years old. The thing I liked most about Rhodes was
the dry moat [2]
that circled the old city. Between 15 and 30 meters wide, this
swath of green land seemed rather out of place considering that
the city walls were intended to repel invaders.; palm trees, grass,
a wide sandy-dirt path and a large number of what appeared to
be stone cannon balls (sometimes just one, but usually a pile
of them in a pyramidal shape).
Getting from Rhodes to Marmaris in Turkey ended
up being a very expensive hop. All told, it cost 101 euro: 28
for the catamaran ferry, 23 for the port tax and 50 euro for the
entry visa! (apparently, only Americans have to pay just a high
visa fee; most other nationalities pay less than 20 euro) The
Turkish lira has undergone heavy inflation for a long period of
time, and everyone here is a millionaire as a result. Here're
some examples of prices:
1.5 liters of mineral water: 500,000 Turkish Lira
(TL); dorm room in a hostel: 8,000,000 TL; one apple: 750,000
TL. The exchange rate is about 1,620,000 TL per US dollar. I've
purchased postcards that cost 100,000 TL, which is about $0.06
a piece. That being said, there are some Turks that try to fleece
tourists. Several of my first transactions weren't very pleasant
because I had very little idea of how much was an appropriate
price to pay. Another noteworthy thing about Turkey is that most
prices are negotiable, especially when there isn't a price posted
(which is just about everywhere, and allows a businessman so inclined
to have a 'tourist' price and a 'local' price).
I landed in Marmaris, Turkey. It's a
port town [4], that apparently is the international yachting
capital, and plays host to a very large international yachting
competition each year. It also has the largest bazaar in the southwest
of Turkey. I ended up having to stay the night in Marmaris (the
bus to Cappadocia the night I landed was full), and actually very
much enjoyed being able to wander around for about a day. Marmaris,
I think, was good practice for Istanbul.
The Marmaris Bazaar occupies perhaps five square
city blocks of space, and consists mostly of little shops. The
streets are covered by a steel and plastic barrel vaulted roof
that is a boon in the intense heat. In Turkey, it's customary
for stores to post a man outside who will call to passers by in
an attempt to get them to come in to the shop. I heard 'Hello
my friend, how are you?' and 'My friend, where are you from?'
quite a bit. There were leather shops, barbershops ('Hello my
friend, do you need a shave/haircut?'), clothing shops, jewelry
shops, etc. At the recommendation of someone at the hostel, I
ate several of my meals at a traditional Turkish kitchen, where
the food is very cheap (prepared in very large, shallow pans and
put on display - you point at what you want) and Turkish men come
to eat, mostly alone and in silence, while they're on break from
work. Meal price: less than 2,000,000 TL ($1.33). I did decide
to go for the haircut/shave though, and it was quite an experience.
First was the shave with a straight razor, then the haircut (more
like a trim), and the facemask, and the ears (they light the end
of what looks like a long metal qutip (sp?) and flick your ears
with it to burn off the little white hairs) and finally a shoulder
massage. The guys wanted 40million ($25), but I haggled them down
to 30. Turns out, it was only worth about 10million. Ah well :)
Another thing about Turkey is their legalized obsession
with Ataturk
[5], the man who founded the republic of Turkey in the early
part of this century. He really was a visionary as well. Ataturk
made Turkey a secular state with no state-religion (although 99%
of Turks are Muslim - that being said, many don't practice, just
like with other religions), enfranchised women so they can hold
jobs, land, etc. (Turkey has even has a female prime minister),
and otherwise modeled the Turkish state after some parts of Western
governments. Because of all these progressive reforms, his likeness
is found on every unit of currency; seemingly every town bears
at least one road with his name and a statue of him. I've often
seen a picture of him hanging on a shop wall. I believe it's even
against the law to say anything bad about him!
The night bus from Marmaris to Cappadocia was an
interesting experience. Long-distance travel in Turkey is usually
done on these overnight busses, which are nice Mercedes ones that
tour companies use. Unlike our pathetic Greyhound system in the
U.S., the Turkish busses have a steward that comes by several
times on the trip with your choice of tea ('cay' here - in Marmaris,
I was offered turkish tea on several occasions spontaneously.
Drinking tea with someone is a traditional form of meeting someone,
and there's even a saying that translates roughly as 'One glass
of tea shared makes fifty years of friendship'), coffee or a soft
drink. Just before coming around with the drinks, the steward
comes around with a bottle of scented cologne, which you rub into
your hands and perhaps arms and face to refresh yourself.
Finally, I arrived in Cappadocia, which is in the
center of Turkey. I stayed in a small village, popular with backpackers,
named Goreme, which lies in the heart of the
exotic landscape [6] that makes Cappadocia so interesting.
Here's a bit of history on the region:
Millions of years ago, there were four
volcanoes [7] that, through I suppose a series of eruptions,
covered all the surrounding land in layers of ash, dust, mud and
lava. The ash, mud and dust congealed into a substance called
'tufa', which is a bit like cement. The lava turned into basalt
and obsidian. The volcanoes also ejected large chunks of basalt
or pyroclastic stones that embedded themselves in the tufa, compressing
the rock below them, making it denser than its surroundings. The
volcanoes died out, and the forces of erosion took over, wearing
away the tufa and basalt. Tufa, being a porous substance, and
slightly flaky on the exterior, wore away quickly. In some areas,
the tufa was the most prevalent substance, and as wind and water
wore it away, large valleys were created. In a place nearby, called
the Ihlara Gorge
[20], as the lava cooled into basalt, the ground split open,
forming a gorge with sheer walls. Because tufa is easy to dig
into, this area became a perfect place to settle if you wanted
to hide from someone else. The Hittites and the Christians used
the area the most, delving into the tufa valley walls, creating
cave houses
[10], underground cities (which were only inhabited in times
of war, as they were extremely defensible), and (by the hands
of the Christians) more churches
[33] than you can shake a stick at. Goreme sits in the middle
of a large valley, flanked on either side by what would appear
to the naive eye as sand dunes, etched by a recently fallen rain.
Starting from the top ridge, the white tufa falls toward the valley
floor in a cascade of branching flows
of solid tufa [11]. It's really quite beautiful, and very
difficult to describe (I've been trying to come up with a good
analogy by which to describe it for several days and am still
at a loss). Some of the tufa is tinged yellow from a high concentration
of sulfur, other is red from iron, while most is white from calcium.
Speckling the landscape inside Goreme's large valley are giant
basalt cones, rising 20+ meters from the ground. Into these have
been carved rooms and homes, and many are
still inhabited [30] or used in conjunction with traditional
dwellings. There are even a few pensions that tout themselves
for being 'caves'! In other places, are odd
projections of tufa, capped by a basalt pyramid [9] that served
to shelter the underlying tufa from the elements that wore away
the surrounding stone. Some of these projections are called fairy
chimneys [24] (the legend says that once upon a time, humans
and fairies lived together in peace in these tufa houses, but
when a fairy and a human fell into forbidden love, it broke the
peace, and the fairies left forever), others that are penile in
form give their valley of residence the name 'Love Valley'.
My first day in Goreme, I visited the 'open air'
museum, which is a tufa house village complete with some nine
churches created by Christains in hiding. The floors of many of
these churches were covered in now open and empty graves. Many
were decorated too, some by a technique that applied a reddish
paint directly to the tufa surface, while others
had frescoes [31] (in which a layer of plaster is applied
to the surface first, and the paints applied while the plaster
is still somewhat wet) on them. In some churches, there were no
images of people, as the decorations were done during an iconoclastic
period of Christianity (when representations of people were forbidden),
while others are completely
covered in rich imagery [32]. In some of them, the faces of
the people had been scratched off. Islam prohibits representing
people in religious art, and so over many years and through misunderstanding,
the faces of the Christian frescoes were marred. It was neat to
be able to walk around this village and see the rooms and architectural
elements carved into the tufa. Afterward, I hiked through the
Sword Valley (so named for its preponderance of large pointed
basalt and tufa shapes that I suppose resemble swords pointing
toward the sky). This was a real thrill because I could clamber
into and around the various dwellings that I found in my hike.
At one point in my wandering, I spied a large flock of pigeons.
These were the first truly wild pigeons I'd ever seen, as I don't
think the ones that inhabit cities really count as being wild!
My second day in Goreme, I went on a guided tour.
We covered some 220km that day, and saw enough for another email
itself, so I'll have to condense a little. Our first stop was
Pigeon Valley, where for many years, the locals had cultivated
pigeon colonies for their guano (dung). Once a year, they would
collect the guano and use it as a fertilizer for the local crops
(potatoes, squash, grapes (for wine) and sunflowers). Next, we
visited an underground city, which delved some 80m underground.
Apparently, nearly every village in this area has such a city
beneath it, although some are more extensive than others. All
of them are ventilated by a large number of air
shafts [41], that appear to be wells from the surface. When
a village was about to be attacked, everyone (including animals)
moved underground, and they would draw large
basalt millstones [23] across the entrances. The access tunnels
between levels and from the surface were also intentionally made
small and narrow so that an invading force would be easy pickings
for the defenders. Next we hiked a part of the
Ihlara Gorge [20], which yawns very suddenly open in the rolling
hills of the area (it's closer to the volcano, so here there is
less tufa and more basalt). The sides of the Gorge are like huge,
vertical, tightly pressed fingers of basalt. Here erosion works
differently from the tufa, as basalt is a much harder stone. Between
the slabs of basalt, water freezes in the winter, and over the
course of several cycles of freezing/expanding and melting, slabs
are shorn off the sides, continually widening the Gorge over time.
Here too, Christians took refuge, as except from nearby the Gorge
is invisible in the countryside. The land surrounding the Gorge
is mostly brown, yet inside the Gorge is a lush greenery, cultivated
by the river that runs the Gorge's length. The hike was fairly
easy, although there were a few times when we had to either climb
up over, or under large blocks of basalt that had fallen from
the Gorge's walls. Our next stop was by far my favorite - Selime,
a monastery and village carved into a cliff face of tufa [18].
This spot
[37] also happens to be featured somewhere in Star Wars: Episode
I. I don't remember where it was, so I'll have to watch the movie
again sometime :). Selime was my favorite spot because we were
allowed free run of the place, and could climb through the wending
tunnels and explore the unidentified rooms that reached upward
from the base of the cliff to perhaps 50 meters above the road
below. This place was like an underground city with a view. Next
we visited a fortress on the old
Silk Road [22] - the caravans from the East would stop at
these stone fortresses for protection from thieves. But when Europe
started using Asian routes, or using ships (which were faster
and carried more, and also avoided the taxes the Ottoman Empire
charged for the use of its section of the Road), the Silk and
Spice Roads fell into disuse. We then went to Avanos, which is
world famous for its pottery. We had a guided tour of one of the
towns most famous family workshops, and I have to say that my
respect for quality pottery has increased quite a bit as a result.
One of our group even tried her hand at making
something with a manual wheel [25]. Then we were ushered into
the 'exibition room' (a.k.a. sales room). I think the cheapest
piece there was about 30million TL, while the most expensive went
for thousands of dollars.
The next two days, I spent hiking
in the area [26]. Each day, I took with me 2-3 liters of water,
as it is hot hot hot here. Apparently, it gets as hot as 45-50
degrees Celsius here! (that's 110-125 in Fahrenheit) My first
day, I wandered through the
Rose Valley [27] (called that for its rose colored tufa) among
the tufa flows and projections. Usually, the trails looked like
dry streambeds (this area doesn't get a lot of rainfall), and
would wend their way under thickets, up slopes of tufa, through
tunnels or along narrow trenches that the rainfall had cut into
the tufa. I was really surprised
at how much flora there was in the valleys [35], but I guess
they serve as a kind of funnel, collecting rainfall from the ridges
high above as well. At one point in my wandering, I came across
a church. There was a Turkish man stationed in a cave nearby,
with a few drink cans on display. The price of admittance to the
church was one million TL. What really made me think though, was
that this fellow sat here all day waiting for the occasional hiker
or small group of hikers to wander by. This was a recurring theme
in Turkey. In the Marmaris Bazaar (and the Goreme commercial area)
there are multiple vendors selling essentially the same goods,
all courting the same customers. It's a marvel to me that any
of them actually sell anything considering that there aren't *that*
many people who actually buy. I think a lot of the vendors don't
actually make much money, but then again, it doesn't cost much
to live either. You could live fairly well on less than 50million
a week ($33), and that includes everything from food, to renting/owning
a house, etc. In my second day of hiking, I hiked the Love Valley
(with those phallic projections) and the
White Valley [28] (named for its pure white tufa) to a small
village called Uchisar. The village wraps itself around the base
and mid-section of a small atoll that thrusts itself up out of
the surrounding ground and is capped by another tufa village.
The view from
this point was just stunning [29] - you could see the various
tufa valleys stretching out like fingers and arms, the plateau
of harder basalt rock in the distance, the rolling soft brown
hills of the general Cappadocian countryside and faintly the shape
of one of the volcanoes.
One thing that I have been extremely impressed by
is the friendliness of the Turks. In the commercial areas, it's
harder to tell if the friendliness is genuine or just part of
an attempt to get money out of you. But even in the Marmaris Bazaar,
it struck me as being unusual. I had tea several times (for no
charge) with random people (a guy at the bus station, a waiter
at a harbour-side restaurant, and in the Turkish cafeteria), and
chatted a little with them. While I was walking along the main
road from Goreme to the entrance of the Love Valley, no less than
four cars honked, slowed down and gesticulated about given me
a ride somewhere. I don't think I've ever seen that happen in
the States. While I was wandering around the Marmaris Bazaar trying
to find the youth hostel (which was very well hidden), several
people spontaneously gave me directions. When driving, there are
a couple of Turkish-isms that I thought were interesting as well.
The overnight bus would flash its bright-lights at on coming cars
as a kind of 'here I am, be aware of me' gesture. Cars will often
honk at each other as a way of saying 'hello', and especially
when you pass someone in your lane. When I was hiking along the
roads, sometimes a car would honk as it drove by and the driver
or someone would wave to me.
Tonight I head to Istanbul, then to the ruins of
Ephesus, and finally to Athens to fly back to the U.S. I have
only another 8 days of travel. If I get the chance to come back
to Turkey, I'll certainly take it - it's a beautiful country,
with many many things to see. Next time, I'll spend some time
on the Mediterranean coast and in the east part of Turkey near
Mount Nehmut (where the large carven heads are).
Now reading: nothing. I finished Lord of the Rings
the other day (and am really looking forward to seeing The Return
of the King on screen - of the three, it's my favorite), and will
soon start re-reading Crime and Punishment, by Dostoyevsky.
Aaron
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