Cappadocia

I felt another case of The Dread coming on as I found myself traveling towards Cappadocia. I really knew nothing about the place except that I had been told I absolutely must go there by Laura in Urumqi, Jamie in Kazakhstan, Phil in an overpriced expat pub in Aktau, and every other traveler I'd met who'd been to or knew anything about Turkey.

And why not feel The Dread? Every other "must see" place had been overhyped and overcrowded and overcharged. The Dread was strong as I got off the bus in Goreme. It was a town built for tourists, with it's streets lined with tour shops, restaurants, souvenir stands and boutique hotels built into the volcanic rock cones that the region is famed for, known commonly as "fairy chimneys".

But The Dread soon receded! Cappadocia turned out to be one of the most stunning places I've been on this trip, and Goreme even turned out to be quaint and pleasant. And furthermore, I got my slacks sewn back up in five places after wearing them daily for almost three months for a mere seven dollars.

The best part about the whole region - and Cappadocia is a massive region and not just a canyon or town for those as ignorant as I was when I arrived - is that you can walk out of the most touristy town for 30 minutes and be completely alone out of eye and earshot of anyone else, away from the coachloads of tourists the place unsurprisingly attracts.

The region is a result of a shitload of volcanic ash that compressed itself into layers of rock of varying hardnesses, and was subsequently eroded into canyons walled by smooth fingers of crumbling rock cleaved and divided by dry water sluices, sheltering fields of dick-shaped stone pillars. And nearly everything was carved out by a number of ancient peoples, many of whom were early Christians that fled here to escape persecution, that built well-organized cave homes with pigeon roosts, windows, shelves, staircases, and light and air shafts. And that's not to mention the churches with disintegrating murals or underground cities built for protection.



I spent one day hiking without much aim through a number of canyons, climbing up and down the walls at will, hiking over the spongy ground to the next canyon to slide and scrape down, seeing only one other couple hiking around. The canyon floors were covered in long grass cut only by well-trodden foot paths, small trees were blooming with what looked like white and pink cherry blossoms. The natural beauty, the mysterious history behind the abandoned dwellings, and the absolute silence and solitude had me in awe at every turn.

I spent another day hitch-hiking a 50 miles or so in a loop that brought me from Goreme through the city of Nevsehir to an expansive underground city that housed several thousands of people during times of strife, to crumbling canyon with a pristine river running along the flat grassy bottom below vertical walls spotted with empty carved windows and doors, and back through Aksaray to Goreme.



I spent another day exploring a short network of canyons so riddled with multi-floor houses and churches that the entrance was walled off and you had to pay to get into the "open-air museum".

Cappdocia is touristy as hell, and the natural beauty is undeniable. But the real beauty is that despite the busloads of mononational group tourists, you don't have to see anyone else if you don't want to. The Dread has no place here.