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.

Terracotta Warrors VS Hype

"The Eighth Wonder Of The World!" That's the claim, at least, about the terracotta warriors. I went to see for myself. It was a miserable rainy day in Xi'an, and the bus ride out of the city took about an hour.

I wasn't even sure if I wanted to go see them. Another case of The Dread. I even checked reviews and thoughts of people online and everyone was soaking their pants about how stunning and "worth it" it was. I decided to blow the 110 yuan it takes to get in. That's a small fortune in China, about $17.

The experience starts with a kilometer-long walk through a gauntlet of tourist shops selling obligatory warrior statues, stamps, carvable name seals, postcard, knickknacks, and all sorts of predictable souvenir crap, right down to porcelain figurines of German Shepards. Don't ask me why.

All the shops are in a western-style outdoor mall. There's even a Terracotta Warriors KFC and Subway. It was a real travesty, and to make matters worse, when I got to the gate finally, I was told the ticket office was back down towards the start. "By KFC".

Fortunately there was a ticket hawker who inexplicably gave me one for face value after I refused to pay extra, though he kept asking for a tip, which I probably would've given him if I wasn't already so disenchanted with getting hassled for being a foreigner throughout Asia. He was standing around in the rain, saving me a twenty minute round trip, after all.

So I saw the terracotta warriors, and learned a bit about their history: commissioned by a 13 year old king so he'd have some friends when he died, rank discernable by size and decoration, blah, blah, blah. Just google it if that's what you're really interested in.

The statues are in three pits of varying sizes. The big one, pit A, the medium one, pit B, and the small one, pit C. After being thwarted by horrible sign postings, I went the recommended path, C to B to A, building up for the grand finale.

Sure, the size of the crumbling army is impressive, but who doesn't know that already? Who hasn't seen photos of the cavernous pit A, or close-ups of the faces, or heard that all of the faces are different? Tourists walk around the pit perimeters, looking down into them from a distance. Many warriors are lined up in battle formation, but most are still yet to be excavated, and many others are being patched together, to be ready for presentation.

What I did learn was how superior Chinese civilization of 2,200 years ago was to modern day western civilization: "Some of the unearthed brass weapons bore chrome-plated edges. This technology was discovered by America and Germany in the 1930s, but it was already mastered in China of 2,200 years ago! How impressive!"

Pit B still had a lot of unexcavated statues. They were under the original covering: thatched mats laid over wooden beams, resting on packed earthen walls. The soldiers stand in the corridors between the walls. Like I said, most of the roofing was still up, making the pit look like a field of petrified blankets thrown over wooden ribs.

I'm glad I went just because I would still be wondering if I missed out on anything had I skipped it. But I would recommend anyone else against going, unless you are going for one of the following reasons:

1. you (or your travel companions) have never heard of the "Eighth Wonder Of The World" somehow
2. you really need to see with your own eyes the scale of the pits (one thing that no photos or documentaries can really give you) and appreciate the feeling of space
   
3. unlike me, you're not a dirty traveler burnt out on tourist traps

Siem Reap, Angkor Wat, and The Dread

I've realized I've completely forgotten to write about the tourist mecca of Angkor Wat. It is the largest religious structure in the world, and undeniably one of the largest tourist attractions as well. I suppose it does warrant my attention.

Please do pardon me, but before we even set eyes upon this ancient city of temples I was filled with a sort of dread. It's the Dread that tells you that you won't actually be that impressed by something that should very well impress you.

The Dread is caused by the gradual dulling of your impressability by the parade of temples, wats, churches, cathedrals, stellae, museums, mountains, monuments, and mausoleums that you've spent the last three months looking at.

Now forgive me for sounding so cynical and jaded - I know you're probably reading this from a fluorescent-lit cubicle somewhere - but as Joe Walsh said, "I can't complain, but sometimes I still do."

Before our tuktuk driver even got within viewing distance of the ancient city of Angkor, before we got off the bus in Siem Reap even, my brain began to come up with a metaphor for Angkor, and Angkor Wat specifically:

I saw an ornate cake of ridiculous proportions and gaudy decoration. It was abandoned and forgotten in a jungle and teeming millions of ants crawled all over it, taking picture in flip-flops and sunglasses.

The Dread was not without reason, but it wasn't terrible either. I was impressed by the ruined temples and cities of Angkor - it's difficult not to be - but I wasn't awestruck by it. Everyone has seen pictures of it, and the closer you physically get to it - from America to Asia, Asia to southeast Asia, to Cambodia, to Siem Reap - the more you hear about it from other travelers. It would be hard to be surprised by the place.

The tourists were out in droves, no doubt about that. Siem Reap, being nuzzled right up to Angkor, is the place where everyone stays, and there are all sorts of everyones there: scrubby backpackers like us, couples on vacation, young families showing the kids something to forget before they get old enough to appreciate it, French checking out the old empire, Koreans in massive group tours, et cetera, et cetera.

Siem Reap is a town built on tourists, and the city handles it well. The dining and drinking district is great, with close alleys warmly lit and lined with open air restaurants to watch people from, and beer so cheap you can pass out on five dollars.

I'm glad I went to Angkor and Siem Reap, no way I couldn't be, but it was not the solemn holy experience I hoped it might be, under those crumbling towers and shady stone hallways. It was a great experience sneaking into the temple itself before dawn, and having an hour or so of solitude and quiet while the hordes were snapping photos in front Angkor Wat's reflection on the pool, but mostly it was a trip on the ultratourist bandwagon.

Fortunately there was enough great cheap food to eat, cheap cold beer to drink, and plenty of sun-scorched temples to scramble over and pick at and inspect along with everyone else. In fact I even learned something about the history that would come as no surprise to Jared Diamond. The whole kingdom collapsed due to environmental factors, specifically to some abnormally dry monsoon seasons that their advanced water management systems couldn't cope with. Among minor contributing outside factors, of course. I learned this after the fact of my three day visit, naturally.