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Published: April 7th 2009
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Last blog entry finished at Bergama and ancient city of Pergamon.
To go back to where we left off 6months ago:
October 2008:From Bergama we headed East towards Cappadoccia a journey of three days across two vast flat plains;the first of which took us to Pamukkale. The campsite here was in a small garden, attached to a hotel, part of which was taken up by a swimming pool fed from the springs from the travertine terraces. It amused us that we plugged our electric cable into a tree! It was not long before the owner had sold Chris a book on Hierapolis(ancient site above the terraces).
The next day we visited the site but first we had to climb up the extraordinary bright white, calcium deposit formed terraces; like being on a ski slope without the snow, and, as shoes not allowed, in bare feet. Of course it was warm and sunny so not too much of a hardship if one avoided the sharp stones. Hierapolis, when we had recovered our breath and shoes, was a revelation, spread out over the hill and with one of the best partly reconstructed theatres we had seen. In the centre of the "city"
Pamukkale
Not one of the bikini clad beauties! is an ancient spring fed swimming pool in the middle of a modern cafe. We wondered why there were so many skimpy bikini -clad women around(unusual in Turkey). If not in the pool, they were posing on the "snow"rocks for their camera wielding partners.
We arrived back at the campsite/hotel looking forward to dinner on the roof terrace cooked by the owner's wife who was a pleasant soul although she seemed rather bored and lost without any hotel guests. Of course, it turned out to be an inferior meal served in a strip-lighted room; on our own apart from host and wife eating on a separate table;no view of lit terraces; and TV on in the corner to add to the ambience.
As different as could be, the next night found us parked on the side of Lake Behsehir watching the sunset turn it a gentle shade of mauve, and no-one around. This is one of the lakes in so-called Lakeland district of central Anatolia. It was a long but fascinating drive to here, crossing flat yellow plains with barely seen mountains on both sides in the grey heat haze, passing mounds of red and yellow apples piled up
on the roadside by just- picked orchards. Our lunch stop was by a ruined caravanserai next to Lake Egirdir.Going to get bread at the neighbouring mini-market, I(H) was beckoned to a truck where I was given freshly picked black grapes;delicious and only £1 a kilo.
Not so beautiful was the poverty-stricken state of the villages down the road. Many of the old, still occupied wooden houses were falling down. Good to see the old men(and the young) sitting outside the local cafe as usual, and watching us circling round looking for the exit. However, when asked for directions, they are unfailingly helpful.
We emerged from the mountains to see Konya spread out below us. This is the town of the Whirling Dervish sect but we whirled on by,by the by-pass. In fact they say that the place to see a WD performance is in Istanbul. From here we crossed one of the plains a straight road stretching as far as the eye could see with just a smudge of a mountain range in the distant heat haze. We stopped in the middle of that plain at Sultanhani, a town renowned for a restored and majestic 13thC caravanserai. Unfortunately it
seemed to be falling down again and from the many birds in and on it resembles one huge, exotic pigeon loft. Laid out on tables were ancient tools and domestic objects(including another sewing machine):a prop-buyers dream!
Next day we set off, after one of the coldest nights and earliest wake-up calls from the muezzin we have had so far, across another endless plain with no discernible distant mountains or hills for the first hour or so:a strange experience.
We arrived at the Ihlara Valley in Cappadocia in time for lunch and a scramble up dusty slopes to look at the Selime Katedrali carved into the rocks. We found this,the first of a series of rock churches we are to see, fascinating with its carved doric columns and remnants of frescoes. More challenging was the way up to it along steep and narrow channels worn into the rock and steps which had been worn into toe-holds but we were the only visitors-no tourist coaches here! After a brief stop to marvel at a deep rift canyon and be assailed by three local children looking for sweets in exchange for some dubious red, pippy berries, we drove across more plains dotted with
bags of potatoes and arrived at Goreme.
Suddenly a vista of conical stone formations,tourist buses and tat-sellers appeared before us, and the back of another British motorhome which we duly followed up an extremely steep and cobbled road to the top of the village and Kaya Camping.
No sooner had we settled on our chosen pitch than we were greeted by an exuberant Italian woman bearing small cups of sweet espresso which made a change from apple tea. This is the first and last we see of her as she goes off the next day leaving only us two Brit vans on the site. Ruth and John in the other van we are to meet again after Xmas but that's another story. This camping site turned out to be a good one with heated indoor showers, quiet away from the tourists and local mosque and best of all, the view which was wonderful overlooking the neapolitan-ice-cream coloured rocks and deep valleys from which the myriad hot air balloons floated up in the dawn light. One day we walked down to the Open Air Museum in Goreme to look at the many cave churches with frescoes some dating from 9th century.
Capadoccia
Goreme from above There are so many holes and caves in the surrounding yellow rocks they look like giant cones of Swiss cheese. Another walk from the campsite took us down into the Rose Valley, an eerie place because of the quiet and the sense of being watched from the "windows" in the monumental rocks on both sides as we went deeper and deeper. Every so often there were signs of cultivation;fruit trees and vines so we expected to meet a cave-dweller at every turn. Disappointingly we only saw a couple on a moped and an unexpected tea stall.
After a few days deteriorating weather drove us to leave our idyllic spot and head south to the Mediterranean coast.
And on to the next blog!....
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