Church Your Own Adventure

A) Ask if I need a ticket
B) Walk in confidently 
Take two photos casually. Large hand claps on my shoulder and muscles me toward the exit while aggressively lambasting me for taken forbidden photographs. 
"I'm sorry - I didn't know."
"Haven't you already been to the first seven churches?"
C) Admit to not having been there and sneaking into this church
D) Give him ammunition to say that I already knew
"Well then you have visited seven churches where photos were forbidden so don't pretend you didn't know."
E) "OK," put camera in backpack and continue to eye the frescos
F) "OK," snap photo of his face and run away

Profile: Turkey

Meet Turkey

- Under the Black Sea
- Home of Istanbul, the city of two continents were East meets West (Europe - Asia)
- Has been home to Greek, Roman and Ottoman empires through the ages to name the most influential
- Officially secular thanks to Atatürk and his 1923 war of independence but high majority of practising Muslims (and current political party of power is pushing for a more Muslim state)
- Uses the Latin alphabet also thanks to Atatürk

Stray Dog Rating (out of 5): I purposely lowered Bulgaria in case I needed to rate higher and I still have to raise the ceiling and give 5.5 cats out of 5. Not only small towns but in Istanbul the vermin were brazen enough to repeatedly jump up on empty chairs at dinner. Dogs 3.5, oh and I noticed because members of my tour group patted each flea-infested one within whistling distance.

Sidewalk Safety: Actually the sidewalks were smooth and reliable but anywhere off track, path, cave, dead end, cliff top would be littered with broken glass. As for traffic, the entity with greater momentum always won. [Physics Lesson: р = m(v) where m is mass, v velocity, р momentum] Therefore if you were a pedestrian basically any vehicle that wasn't at rest took precedence. However if you were an aggressive bus you would overtake cars going down a mountainside even if they were practically forced off the road to make way for you.

Cuisine: Stop with the kebaps! Many places I was lucky to find a pide (squashed football shaped pizza without sauce) but often resorted to the meza (bland appetiser dips of eggplant or sort of salsa). The Cappadocian dishes slow cooked in clay pots you got to crack the lid off of with a hammer was alright, the pickled vegetables plate the best. There was a finger-shaped crumbly sweet nutty dessert i had once that i couldn't understand the name of. On the cheap one could get a tost sandwich - essentially pide between bread on a grill. The beer wasn't much better as Efes, a mediocre pilsener and i don't like pilsener, was so popular it was usually the only option most places. Cities might offer a tiny step up with Bomonti 100% malt or if you were super lucky Efes dark for a premium. (Maybe since Muslims aren't supposed to drink and most don't.) Shout out to Patos Rolls - essentially spicy Doritos with each one (you guessed it) rolled up.

Rambling Impressions: A country with vast historic significance as many important civilisations were rooted in this land. The ruins of these are innumerable and intriguing, although some have not been kept in very good repair, while others have been reconstructed well.
Istanbul is dazzling and offers a unique experience although it is very much a tout town where haggling and enticement quickly loses its charm and becomes exhausting. I'm not much for religious buildings but these mosques are impressive in their stature and ornament, while the history of the 2500 year old massive Aya Sophia makes it excellent. Other cities and towns, including the more religiously conservative ones in the east where almost all women are covered, exhibit their riches in less showy ways and many are quite comfortable and beautiful. Altogether the country is astounding from its great green mountains and rolling fields to the aquamarine waters of the coast. Being primarily on tour my interactions with the locals was often as a group and through a translating guide but they seem a very humble, modest and eager to please people who hold pride in their country. Despite the food I would like to return to hike the 500km Lycian Way from Fethiye, studying more of the gluttony of ruins along the way and making better use of the gorgeous beaches.

Guardian: Will you be my guardian?

He was pleasant enough even if he wasn't all that eager to help. This was likely due to his lack of confidence in the language so I allowed him to explain the way back to Kusadasi in a mix of Turkish and broken English. Seemed simple enough - only two more kilometres hike on top of the 20+ I've already done up and down the other side of a mountain today. Once I had covered those two and reached the only road I paused, looked longingly at the coast just too far to cross, swim, return and still collect my all-important laundry before the next day's sunrise departure, and turned away from the national park's eventual dead end. Rather than stand still I carried on but turned to watch each vehicle as it passed, waiting for the dolmus (mini bus) that the pleasant man had promised would take me to town where I could find a real bus to cover the next 30km to the city. Cars, vans and tractors came and went, despite making myself look as weary and pathetic as I was the only vehicles to give me any notice were the damn kids on their motorbikes, hurling words at me and laughing as they continued past. On I went losing both faith and steam. Finally after 45 more minutes I reached a small village and on a restaurant stoop sat a wise-looking old man so I broached him with 'Kusadasi?' and though he stared directly at me he made absolutely no indication that he'd even registered, let alone a motion as to how I should get there. Exasperated I turned to see if there was anyone else around but nobody seemed concerned about the misplaced foreigner. Finally the waiter came over, seemingly out of obligation, and I inquired with him but he didn't have much good news. I could make out that the dolmus was no longer running, however when asked what I could do instead he just shrugged! There wasn't even a taxi around. When pressed he thought real hard and then spat out a list of directions in Turkish; not helpful. I had him slow down and focus on kilometres (that word translates) and what seemed like town names from the nearby street sign. With only a hazy understanding that I had at least 3 more kilometres before there was even a possibility that anything besides walking might happen I purchased a water and chocolate bar from the shop next door and forged on. How long will this take? My laundry! Ravenously I finished the bar in under a minute and only one minute more a car idled up behind me - a real POS. I'm not sure what they said but I took it to mean sit on top of the old man in the dated blue suit in the back. So I did and after a brief attempt to converse ending with him showing me a business card from England I just sat quietly and hoped this would work out. As I did that I observed how the freshly groomed, bearded blue collar driver egged on the old man who got heated up about everything. The passenger had the greasiest jet black hair I have ever seen and only spoke when spoken to. Along the route we passed a massive black wild boar lying dead still in a field. I smacked my first into my hand to simulate hit by a car and prom king 1954 agreed wholeheartedly - "Dolmus!" he exclaimed with glee. I chose to believe the dog in an equally prone position near it was just napping. Half an hour later we pulled in and the passenger had to get out to open our broken door handle where I spilled into the street. The geezer pushed me back in as he ambled off God knows where. Now sharing the backseat with only eight sacks and some trash we continued to Kusadasi indeed and as soon I'd oriented myself I too eagerly shouted 'OK' and he pulled over. I offered the driver a tenner for 'gaz' but he kindly refused. He also refused to let go of the shifter so I shook his left hand and departed to gather my garments.

Tweet: Ruined

Alright Greece, Turkey, it has been a blast but I think I'm ruined for awhile. Love the history but reached the saturation point. What do you have to offer Macedonia?

Profile: Albert, Arms Dealer

Meet Albert

- Proud Australian, lives on 100 hectares just outside of Melbourne
- Arms dealer, sells antique guns but primarily restores WWII era duck amphibious vehicles
- Not in the phone book
- Married, no kids, both him and his wife love to travel albeit separately
- Excellent knowledge of history, especially battles and wars
- Embarking on a 120 day Drago tour from Turkey via Georgia and Azerbaijan through to Mongolia in an oversized 4X4 with plenty of engaging activities on the way
- See you in Melbourne, Albert!

Turkey Torture

First they incapacitate your arms and make it such that with any movement you will choke yourself. Next they intimidate by waving blades dangerously close to your head. Perhaps the most terrifying is the flaming coil, lit and touched to your ears and face. Speaking of face, it is stuffed into a sink and burning liquid rubbed aggressively into it. The blades return targeting the eyes while the ears are stuffed with cotton. It is so traumatizing I came out looking like this.

Tweet: Oedipus

Having realised he'd killed his father and cursed his kingdom by marrying his mother, he gouged out his eyes and wandered this land of Thebes. Today I hiked it - just 'cuz

Profile: Sammy, a Cellist

Meet Sammy

- From Guatemala
- Can (some of) speak 5 languages, none of which are Turkish
- Only 23 years old
- Began playing cello 6 years ago on a whim thanks to a free lesson on the way home from the football pitch
- Plays 0 other instruments
- Has traveled either with the Youth Orchestra of the Americas or to teach cello to Germany, 5 places in Switzerland and now Turkey
- Bashful when asked to duet pop music with a 60 year old pianist
- No hesitation to perform his preferred classical pieces for a crowd of 7, plus passersby, at a street side cafe
- Confident enough to play on request in a gorgeous water cistern cum automobile garage cum fancy restaurant lit by 200 candles and providing impeccable acoustics with its arched dome ceilings busy with diners

Guardian: Three Shepherds

They must have spotted me first because they were staring up at me when I first caught sight. I acknowledged them jovially but, being a hundred metres above them on the precipice of the cliff, that was as far as it went. However the three must have followed along from below since as I gradually meandered down into the valley there they were at the base of the trail. Without any English we greeted each other as best we could and I carried on with my hike while the funny part was that they followed. Actually I'm not sure who was guiding who. I would head off in a direction and they'd end up not far behind. Then I'd pause for a photo and they'd be up ahead on the path. Since we couldn't communicate vocally I just observed and found it funny that they were the quintessential cartoon crew. First you had the young, strong hero with his muscular build and quiet confidence. The wise elder had long whiskers and moved slowly, just watching most frequently. Finally there was the goof, always playing a joke or bounding ahead. I never did figure out whether it was just out of curiosity or companionship that they stuck with me but for well over an hour, even as I'd clamber up into a cliffside cave and disappear for 15 minutes, they would appear nearby upon my return. Finally I reached my destination, the open air museum, but was separated from it by a deep valley. Eventually I found a barely passable route down but it proved even too steep for these obviously well-trodden veterans. As I began my descent I whistled a goodbye and they wagged their tails and padded off.

Kapadokya Chimney

Waking naturally to the morning light I peeked out the window to discover a speckled sky. Without time for socks I snatched my camera and skipped up the stairs to the rooftop. The door was locked but I was persistent and tried the window which was open. As I moved the flower pots off the ledge to gain access I discovered a key. I replaced the pots and unlocked the door. Though a single shot couldn't capture it I counted well over 50 dotting the sky with every watercolour.

Looking for that unobstructed pic I headed across the road, cold ankles and all, to the field of green. As I crossed I spied (hey, that's the name of this blog!) a windowed chimney structure in the distance that seemed especially striking. 

Having traversed the dirt paths between, it was immense and imposing from the base. With a boy's excitement I rushed into the nearest ground room, spun around and went to the next. In no time the rooms were exhausted but no way up was seen, unless I could somehow shimmy through a chimney narrower than my shoulders starting 3 metres off the ground.

Circling the massive stone pillar I saw some more entrances on the back side. Getting to the first stage up a dusty path was easy enough but as I headed up the next the loose rock beneath my feet gave way and I skidded back down to the start. Trying a few different tacts the result was the same that I'd always end up sliding out of control in a cloud of dust back to the bottom, nearly face planting a couple times. Finally I gathered some steam and got a run at the part with the faintest of footholds and achieved the second stage!

I found one tiny empty half open enclave with no entrance. And so I looked up again. Here there were signs of a rocky 'stairwell' if you call a spattering of shallow indents straight up and to the side a stairwell. Above were metal rings implanted in the wall but the rope that was obviously supposed to be moored there to pull your way up was missing. Assessing the climb, with my series of recent rocky slides fresh in my mind, I decided it was semi dangerous. So I carefully spotted my route before beginning.

It was hairy at times, alternating footholds and hand to make sure I maintained good contact but after a couple minutes I was released from hugging the rock and had a narrow grassy pathway. It ran back around to the front and here I found another mini climb over a sharp drop. I took that too. It was only after I'd hurried to get in the self timer shot that I looked down the other side and saw the equally steep fall under the loose ground.

From this height I could enter the first chamber on the front side. It lead to another, and another and another. Some I had to pull myself up through narrow chutes a couple metres off the ground while others had actual legitimate staircase cut into the rock.

Almost every one had a breathtaking view of the cliffs and rocks and fields and balloons around. 

All the way on the far side, past the pigeon hole room, I made it outside again but the route up further looked too dicey (I do have a line).

Back through I found a tunnel going down into darkness. With the light from my camera I followed it to the first bend where it was sheer black. I cursed that I didn't have my torch but I didn't even have socks on so I decided not to follow it down.

With breakfast about to be served I came back to the climb up and now had to negotiate it down. This seemed even more dangerous but also inevitable. I took a moment to rest and enjoy the view before beginning the descent.

As stones fell away beneath me I breathed deep and followed the three points of contact rule strictly. There was another deep breath, this a sigh of relief as I reached the top of the gravel slide and then skipped and slid my way down. With a sense of accomplishment I hiked back and picked the gravel from between my toes all before breakfast!

Not a Tweet: Cap Off

Over 200 photographs today and not one fully captures the magnificence of Cappadocia. Favourite ever hike! Thanks Lee for the suggestion.

Turkish Delight

But I'm still eating.. And now I'm dancing. Hold hands. Circle. Kick left. Kick right. Alright I can sit cross legged for a short time. Nope, accept the pom poms from the Turkish man and do as he does. Fire myself up with a few laps, poms spinning, or more like flailing. What now? We're wooing the annoying dancing tourist. Quick set of push ups. Now she's veiled and squeezing our biceps. Thumbs down? To me? Cmon lady! Guess she chose the Turkish prince. But the young Turkish girls chose me, and we're free dancing to Turkish music.. What happened to my dinner? Ah, who cares - pass the wine.

Not a Tweet: Not a Video Either

Was the vid posted in the last entry of blue dogs singing about submarines and the pictured subject matter? I couldn't verify as the foul government here has also blocked YouTube.

Not a Tweet: Hot Balloons

What a view to wake up to!
[Obligatory 'hot air' dad-joke removed due to corniness]

Lost in Translation: Pomme de Terre

Englishish: Apple slices of potato
Where: Next to potato chips (French fries) on menu in Antalya, Turkey
Presumed Translation: Potato wedges

Cappadocia: More adjectives than your cappuccino order

Apparently it takes nearly a full revolution of the little hand to reach a new world.. but I'm giddy for the land of fairy chimneys and underground cities described as other-worldly/lunar and bewitching/fascinating. Cappadocia here I come (eventually)!

Tour's Description:

"..an extraordinary region of lunar-like landscapes that has bewitched travellers for centuries. We stay here for the next three nights.

Cappadocia fascinates all travellers. Shaped by wind and water, its otherworldly rock formations have to be seen to be believed. Rock hewn churches, cave homes and incredible underground cities wait to be explored. In times of peace the people in this region lived on the land but in times of war or persecution they took to living underground."

Not a Tweet: I'm On a Boat

Not going anywhere fast.. Two days of sun (and risk of thundershowers), sunken treasure, islands and relaxation. Everyone on tour is psyched to sleep on deck at 5°C

Two Sides to Every Mountain

The backside of the mountain hosts an incredible snapshot in time. Following Turkey's independence war there was natural tension between the Turks and the Greeks who had resided here for generations. In a bold policy in 1923 the countries organised a population exchange such that 1.5 million Greeks immediately had to give up their homes and livelihoods to move to Greece while half a million Turks were 'returned.' With the number imbalance the Turks were welcomed home by their pick of house and in many cases business. I'll report how the Greeks fared when I get there in a few weeks time.

With such plentiful options the less hospitable villages were left by the wayside which brings us back to the backside of the mountain. Here lies the ruins of a village named Kayakov after 90 years of neglect and it is completely picturesque. Ballparked at 400 structures from houses to churches, schools to stores, the stone walls stand as testaments to the pre independence Greeks, while the roofs have all disintegrated. This picture hardly begin to do justice to the narrow streets grown over with wildflower and the water tower sprouting fully grown trees. Amazing!

Following an hour of intense hiking, first straight up and out the back of this village and then down along the boulder strewn cutbacks, another treasure is discovered. The blue lagoon is nestled among the hills and trees with water coloured true to its name. At sunset the waters are still tepid and a welcome refresher having worked up a lather up and over the mountain. It is true that Turkey has a gluttony of jewels.

Not a Tweet: Prime Turkey

TurkPM: They are saying bad things about me on the twitter and the face book and the you tube - better plug up tubes. No chance of this backfiring.. #TwitterIsBlockedInTurkey

Tweet: Good Morning, Turkey

Now just cut it out with the 5am call to prayer. #RememberEarplugs