Göreme - a three time charm

Seems as if this narrative is taking longer than the actual vacation. Let's just attribute that to the demands of work, constraints of time and yes, of course, procrastination. Sometimes it's just too easy to get sidetracked by daily trivialities.

After taking leave of the welcome to Kapadokia wanderabout, it was time to make my way to Göreme and hunt down the hostel that would be called home for the first couple of days. Once back on paved roadways, it was just a short drive through Avanos and an accidental shot right through Göreme and almost to Uchisar. This is where the short attention span can really lead to some interesting discoveries, unfortunately, starvation required an illegal U turn (if there is any such thing on a rural Turkish roadway) and mad dash back to that single stoplight back the other way.

Navigating a car through a marketplace environment during the early evening only adds to the excitement of driving in the middle east, a Mr. Toads' Wild Ride adventure, and my sincerest apologies to the few pedestrians who did not quite make it into my line of sight. Faced with dozens of small signs pointing to "Cave House" this and "Cave House" that, it seemed the best option was to close my eyes and continue forward. At last it was there, the Nomad Cave House, found not with the assistance of directional signs, but through the guidance of a kindly old man waving me cheerfully away toward the correct destination and although Turkish was an unfamiliar tongue to me at the time, he seemed to be shouting, "... just a few hundred meters that way, my friend, and please, " he said, throwing some green fruit into my open window, " have these for your hunger!" Or so it seemed.

You always remember your first - part second

And now it is later... suffering the repercussion of extended vacations... an even more extended work load!

Anyway, there is some odd fascination with these carved out tuff caverns, and an even more odd sense of calm. Taking time to sit and contemplate just how complex the lives of the early population really were is one of the most humbling of experiences. Turning off the flashlight, sitting in total darkness, unsure if your eyes are even open, inhaling the cool, somewhat musty air and hearing nothing, letting your mind go still - bliss is the only word that can even remotely describe the feeling. And personally, pure relief! No technology slapping me in the face. No cell phone to interrupt the moment. No boss to create some meaningless task, no client to come up with some senseless need, no computer to bombard me with one form of media or another, no whiny doctor or clinician (not that any of our staff whine) to beg a favor, simply relief, the opportunity to appreciate and bask in one forgotten element of every life - just being.
Eventually you have to turn that flashlight back on and continue on, but every trip provides me with some way to find that one moment, or in the case of this vacation, several of those moments.
Climbing in the dark along some crumbling stairs, not certain how many levels up, reveals the pigeon hutch, as common in these cave communities as a Starbucks on nearly every street corner, although it is difficult to see the ancient Turks ordering up ,"martı gübresi , venti please." This version of guano was, however, instrumental in the local agriculture and a very important resource.

Soon it was time to go outside and skirt the hill that housed this complex. The more time spent in the cave rooms meant fewer hours of daylight to find my actual destination, plus there was still so much more to see.
Tramping along a hillside path, the nice man who had taken my money at the cave entrance was returning from tending his vineyard. Fortunately for me, language barriers have never been a concern, and the nice man seemed only too happy to show off his tiny patch of farmland.
Through a series of gestures and actual demonstration he was able to get across the message of his methods of cultivation. It was interesting to note that though maintained in what appeared to be a traditional manner, and looking at the accessibility issues and small size of the area, there were traces of ag chems (an empty bag of rebranded fertilizer used regularly here in California, and apparently commonly in the middle east too!) and soil amendments. What escapes me is the effort that he puts into bringing these additives to the location yet he still waters by hand when the terrain is a perfect fit for drip irrigation. This will be a question for the next visit! Another interesting thing was the texture of the soil surrounding the cultivated plot. It was a feeling of powdery tuff, but not chalky, and a mixing of clay. It really wasn't like the silt expected from years of erosion and decomposition. Not an easy texture to explain, it just needs to be touched.

You always remember your first...

One of the drawbacks to eager exploration is forgetting to get the name of the location that you are trying to learn about. The benefit on the other hand is the requirement to return to the same spot to fill in the gaps!

Still wiped out from the lack of sleep from the late night flight and the crash course (figuratively speaking) in middle eastern driving techniques, there was still that gnawing desire to find something special, something to claim as my own first discovery in a distant land. Such is what for the moment is to be known as the nameless kilisesi somewhere slightly Northeast of Göreme.

After a short walk through the orchards and meadows it was time to try to negotiate a path that really didn't exist. Sure, there were bare spots among the weeds and trees, but no definitive trail, no signs directing the visitor to that elusive entrance. And then there it sits, a stone stairway leading down to a heavy metal door, then, crap, the discovery that this is only the maintenance shed/cave. The real entrance is further up the hill over a few piles of rocks and some makeshift steps carved out of the dusty earth. After paying the nice man at the entry 3 Lira, you are handed an old tin flashlight and he gestures some very simple instructions that really required no translation. The flashlight must be jiggled intermittently to ensure that the batteries maintain the correct position or you could be left in the dark. These are instructions that must be followed, because once inside the cave, you are on your own!

Passing through the gate though, the magic seems to take over. Even though it seems to be plainly ornamented with some red pigment, simple lines and symbols you can't help but wonder who had done this and how and why. With the limited amount of light, how were they even able to define the lines? What tools were used to carve out these rooms and passage ways? Considering that the original caves had been carved out roughly two thousand years earlier as living and community areas as well as shelter from the elements and enemies these areas were created out of necessity. Add to this the fact that, in some cases, nearly 1,200 to 1,400 years ago these dwellings were commandeered by religious orders or zealots, and not always without bloodshed, and converted to their own use, altered and decorated in a manner appropriate to their beliefs, these structures take on a significant role in human history. A large part of the fun in exploring these caves is that there is a maze of passageways to navigate and many times there is no light at the end of the tunnel, just a big, dark room!

The massive stone doors are nothing less than intimidating, especially after having negotiated several twists and turns hunched over in a tunnel and fighting a tempermental flashlight. That annoying thought springs to mind, "What if there were a massive earthquake and that door somehow managed to dislodge and roll closed. And where does that dark stairway lead to?" Little thoughts like that, though drift away as you turn the next corner.

Apart from ventilation shafts and what seem to be waste repositories (nice way of saying sewerage pits) there are other mysterious pits and holes to watch out for in the floors. There is almost a hint of Indiana Jones type adventure, only without the treasure and the beautiful yet bitchy side kick.

Working your way up through the stairwells, if they can really be called that, and skull craking hobbit sized doorways you do come into some very remarkable rooms! More on that later.

First days of Middle East

Originally planned as a month in the Balkans and wandering around Romanian monasteries, a cheap ticket from Frankfurt to Istanbul kinda changed everything. Hated by travel agents, the idea of an itinerary is useless to me... see that butterfly and gotta follow. The above picture is on the road from Kayseri to Göreme, but getting ahead of myself here...
For some reason the idea of cave homes and towns seemed really appealing so the destination unknown soon took on the name of Kapadokia (Cappadocia) and no better choice could have ever been made!
Landing in Istanbul was nothing short of an experience, swine flu hysteria had taken over the airport. We were greeted at the door of the plane by staff wearing face masks and yellow suits. Passengers had to hand them declarations of health (seriously!) stating that we had not been around anyone with swine flu, in any countries harboring the disease, had not within the previous 24 hours exhibited any symptoms (coughing, sneezing, bleeding from orifices and so forth) of the infection or felt ill. It took every bit of control within my being not to cough on one of them, but a new environment and sensibility took hold, thankfully.
After being herded past the medical station directly before customs the disappointment set in. The Istanbul International Airport was exactly that. A cosmopolitan shopping center with all of the trappings of downtown Manhattan. The thought occurred to change my ticket from Istanbul to Kayseri to my beloved Marrakech but no, the decision had been made and a rental car was waiting for me, this was no time to resort to running to the sanctuary of the familiar. So, after taking a redeye into Kayseri and arriving at three A.M., it was decided that this was going to be a damn good trip one way or another, and so it was.
The car was delivered to the hotel a little after noonish, teaching me to understand "Turkish time", but also discovering the unprecedented graciousness of Turkish hospitality. It was only the begining of understanding genuine friendliness and the simple feeling of trust, concepts very very foreign to the American psyche!
This was also time for the thrill seeker to become acquainted with probably the most exciting yet terrifying, energizing yet subduing, empowering yet humbling experience known to humanity... driving in the Middle East! Years of sky diving and scuba diving, rock climbing and caving, ice skiing or even commercial fishing could never prepare one for the adrenaline rush that comes with the application of rubber to the pavement where the laws of the road and sometimes even physics exist only in the imagination of the uninitiated! Breaking away from the paved roads made all of it worth while, finding hidden pockets of tourist free areas where one could escape and wander unfettered. Since no dirt road is a stranger to me the route to the destination led to a number of discoveries and some surprising historical landmarks that would not exactly fall under access to the disabled guidelines. And thanks to some springtime storms only a couple of weeks prior to my arrival there was a brilliant display of wildflowers and some very healthy orchards. Granted, the car rental company probably wasn't aware that their nice Kia sedan would be subject to some serious off road exploration, but the mysteries that lay around each curve and twist were beckoning, there could be no turning back.

This led to the first exposure to an honest to goodness ancient monastery/cave church and dwelling. A place for the imagination to run wild, to wonder whose footsteps you might be walking in, to seek out the souls still living in the memory of the environment, stepping in a dung pile that could very well be a deja vu like flashback to where a previous resident may have stepped in something similar in that very spot.

Adventure 2009 begins

As with every vacation that is in the Western hemisphere, the home base is Germany, Moerfelden/Walldorf to be specific. And finally, after 27 years of threatening to visit Rüdesheim, the deed has been done! Yes, yes, it is a tourist trap, but still a quaint village and the home of Germany's finest brandy distilley, Asbach.

Matt and Sabine, apart from being the best friends in the world, are also profound food junkies. A quarter of a century ago Matt taught me how to make some simple traditional German dishes beyond the good ol' wurst type things, and it has been a culinary competition ever since.

After one of the most enjoyable transatlantic flights ever (the company was very good and lively... a wonderful change after the past several trips!), came the welcome home barbecue at another friends house. While not in any way conceding defeat, Matt could probably hold his own in a cook off! The shame is that we cannot get the specific cuts of meat in the good ol U.S., even when you show the butchers full diagrams and explain the seasoning and aging. Yes, it has been tried, several times in the Fresno area with no success!

The next day was a short road trip to Rüdesheim. Please note the angelic little figure in the adjacent photograph...

for some odd reason a scenario for the next Omen sequal comes to mind, The Omen 31, Damien in Disguise.

Not quite that evil, all of the time, he is an 8 year old Tasmanian Devil, very hard to keep up with. The benifit is that once a year my parenting skills are tested and once a year my reasons for having chosen to remain childless are justified. Kids are fun when you can give them back to their parents. Unfortunately there is that little bit of psuedo-parent pride in the child. He is a genius and one helluva soccer nut. The kid's got potential.

So, the first three days were the usual homecoming before taking off for the real vacation. Pretty much eating way too much, bike riding all over town and catching up on the past years events. It's kind of telling that you are family and no longer guest when you drop the kid off at school, gossip with the other parents and run back home to get packed before your flight. To my way of thinking, this is the way all vacations should start!

Post trip musings - preface

Well, have been back from Turkey for about two weeks and am finally getting around to putting some words to, well, the screen, and sorting through a load of pictures. After how many trips to how many places it's about time to start keeping some sort of journal, regardless how consistent or sporadic it may be.
That said, it might be a good idea to preface this with a bit of my own philosophy about travel and what it truly entails, and although food may appear to be a dominant theme in nearly every jaunt, well, to be realistic, it seems to be the basis of my travel, there are other ideals that are preserved, oh, and talk about preserves, my best friend in Germany makes the best Himbeer jam... sorry, one of those Ellen DeGeneres moments... so back to the post.
A commonly held belief is that every journey must have a beginning and an end, that there must be a distinction between what is perceived as reality and other than reality. It is here that we discover the difference between simple travel/tourism and the wonder of the immersive experience. This is not to discount the person who flys half way around the world to have their picture taken in front of some landmark or other. This is to express the joy of embracing the environment and people surrounding that monument and that moment. It extends beyond simple curiosity to allowing the experience to exist and become a part of the reality that is life. In achieving this we discover that after departing that destination there is a piece of our life missing, that we have indeed allowed an addition to what is our identity. This is the journey, and depending on your belief system, ones identity is in a continual evolutionary state, thus, it is a circle. No beginning and no end.
Well, that's my thought anyway.
So now to start playing catch up on the pictures and observations of the most recent jaunt. An attempt will be made to keep it in some sort of chronological order, but A.D.H.D. is my friend, so there is no telling where this may lead!