Friday, February 11, 2011

Mt Nemrut to Harran

Thursday 6th May. Trip to Mt. Nemrut.

And so on to Mt Nemrut. We got up early for breakfast so we could check out and be ready for our nine o’clock pick up. Looking at my bulging suitcase, beside Hubbie’s neat little one, I realised he was right, I had brought too much stuff again. I had brought clothes for all eventualities, hot weather, cool evenings, clothes for scrambling around the hills and for evenings in the hotel. I had also allowed for the fact I might need clean clothes everyday. The Kelebek offered a laundry service at 15tl a bag instead of the pay per item that many hotels provide, making more of the contents of my suitcase redundant.

So, embarrassed by the size of my suitcase, but more concerned about the walk up Mt Nemrut, I limped up the the bus and met our guide Serkan. After introducing himself, he remarked I looked tired, so I explained about my fall, keeping the news about my dodgy arms to myself. After all, I didn’t want to start the trip looking like a total wuss. But I needed to check out the route up to Mt. Nemrut. After all, I hadn’t come all this way to watch the others have all the fun.

I asked Serkan what was the ascent like. He told me that it was quite difficult and the path was rough underfoot. İt was not looking good for me. My ankle was very swollen and several shades of purple, black and blue. However Serkan was quick to assure me he would get me there. He said that sometimes they had mules or donkeys for hire. With this, I relaxed to enjoy the trip, and who knows, maybe by the next morning my foot would be okay. I’m an eternal optimist.

Anamika and Sabya joined us in the minibus and we were ready for off. It was just the four of us and we were to pick up one more person on the way to Kayseri. She had just arrived on the morning flight from Istanbul.

Our mystery guest was an Australian girl Megan, from Adelaide. She had come from Istanbul, after volunteering for several months at an orphanage in Kenya. EAMO

Our first stop was at Karatay Han outside Kayseri. This han dates from the 13th century and stood at a junction of roads leading from Syria, Iraq, eastern Anatolia and Iran to Kayseri and Sivas. It is hard to imagine that the quiet village of today was once a teeming trade center. 



The inscription over the door reads:
"This building belongs to God, who is One, Eternal, and Everlasting, August and Magnificent Sultan, King of Kings, the Shadow of God on Earth, Keyhüsrev son of Keykubad, Commander of the faithful in the year 638".



Unfortunately the Muhtar who held the keys was not there and we could not get inside. We got a brief history of the building and a promise that perhaps it would be possible to get in on the return journey. Unfortunately for us, Sean and I were not coming back, as we had plans to continue eastward to Mardin.

Later, we stopped for tea and there were my beautiful snow covered mountains waiting for me again. Megan had never seen snowy mountains before, while they were the norm for Anamika and Sabya as they both live in Switzerland. We began to get to know each other over the tea as we exchanged basic facts about ourselves and the countries where we live.

We did a lot of driving, with just some brief stops. We were on our way to Adiyaman, about 600km from Goreme. We spent our time on the bus chatting and getting to know each other as the group was small. I took advantage of the small numbers and sat on a double seat on my own......probably a relief to Hubbie ......and propped my foot up.

Our next stop was in the Tekir Valley for lunch. Driving through the mountains was very beautiful and reminded me of alpıne valleys, the scenery is stunning. As we were warned, however, the lokanta where we stopped for lunch was far from pretty but made up for it with its tasty food.

I must say, the men have it all their own way. As I made my way out to the toilets, around the side of the building, I was followed and charged to use the “turkish” facilities. Paying has it’s advantages as it means the facilities are tended and clean. However , not only do the men not have to squat, they did not have to pay either!!

From here, it was on to Kahramanmaraş for some of their famous ice cream. The ice cream is made from milk and powder from the tubers of wild orchids. It is first mixed and then pounded to improve it’s elasticity. The ice-cream is hard and is served with a knife and fork. We had ours with chocolate sauce which immediately froze on top of it. The way my luck was running İ had visions of my ice cream skidding off my plate as İ tried to cut it. It was worth the effort, as it was delicious and İ managed not to disgrace myself on this occasion.

Back on the bus we set out for our fınal destination, Adiyaman. We checked in, our room was 301, on the third floor, Anamika and Sabya were in 310 on the fourth floor and Megan was in 402 on the ground floor  annex – strange numbering which left us slighty confused trying to find our rooms. Why is it when you can’t walk, everything is either up or downstairs and no lift!

Dinner was “tavuk saute” Chicken stirfry and it was spicy. Sean was doing a Christy Moore on it, the perspiration rolling down his face as he ate. We were told that the food in this region was spicy. In response to questioning we were told that yes, this was a less spicy version for the uninitiated." Serkan ordered some yoghurt for us to combat the heat of the spice  In spite of it’s heat the food was very tasty but I'm not sure I would want to have eaten the local version. 



Again we stayed and chatted over the meal. We were so lucky, there was varıety in age and accent but we all hit it off very well. And everyone was keen on photography... Oh happy days!!

We didn’t stay long as we had been warned that our wake up call was three o’clock – in the morning! İ must be some kind of masochist. This was supposed to be a holiday. We went to sleep early only to be woken by what seemed to be a tour group arrivıng at around 1 o’clock in the morning and the concept of being quiet was beyond them as they excitedly checked out each others rooms. They were probably having the same difficulty as we did locating them.

That was the end of sleep for me. I was glad when the wake up call came at three, up and at ‘em, definitely better than lying in the dark waiting for the time to pass. İ hoped the donkeys were in good form!!


Friday 7th May Mount Nemrut.

We set off at 03.30 and the bus seemed to career around bends İ couldn’t see. I was glad it was dark, as I have mentioned İ don’t do heights. Unfortunately, İ began to feel unwell. İ put it down to tiredness and the lack of sleep. Then the stomach cramps began. God, apart from having a pain in my foot, İ was beginning to be a real pain in the neck. We appeared to be far from civilisation. İ could probably cope with the indignity of stopping the bus to be sick but this had a more ominous feel to it.

İ had to hope if bus tours came here regularly, there was bound to be some kind of facilities. I was so glad when we arrived at a ticket booth, we'd arrived! Oops, not quite yet. On we went twisting and winding our way up the mountain as my guts twisted and knotted in tune.

My first question was not about the donkey but rather where are the facilities. İ made a bolt for the loo having managed to hide my predicament. İ was the only one there, so İ checked every booth. Sometimes you can be lucky and find a European loo, and sure enough, the last one was a ‘proper’ loo. Just one problem, the door was resting against the back wall. So back to the hole-in –the –ground. I will never give out about them again.

When I arrived back outside poor Hubbie was waiting for me, the others had gone on ahead to make it up in time for sunrise. My mule was also waiting for me along with his owner, to carry me up the hill. I climbed up on a wall and onto my mule. The poor beast, I felt sorry for him as he had to climb the very steep slope with me on his back. He left the path to follow a track and his owner had me by the arm to try and keep me steady. All I can say is let me go up in a balloon anyday. By now, having seen the path, I knew it was too uneven for me to walk back down again. That left only one alternative, the mule again.



We reached the top of the hill in time for sunrise. The whole point of torturing ourselves climbing up this mountain is to see the famous statues erected here around a burial mound by King Antiochus in 62B.C. The powers that be, decided the best time to do this is at sunrise! The statues are huge and impressive, but philistine that I am it was the valleys below that caught my eye. What a place to be buried. You were certainly half way to heaven and the views were to die for.








After listening to a history of the tumulus and statues, I kept myself amused taking photos of the statues, putting off the evil moment of going back down the mountain. However it was soon time to mount up.

This time there was no convenient wall to stand on, and the rock suggested wasn’t high enough. If I used my arms to lever myself up, it sent shock waves up my arms so I suffered the indignity of being more or less hoisted on board. To be honest this was the least of my worries.

We set off down the mountain. All I can say was that I was petrified. Actually, being turned to stone and left there would have been preferable. I’d rather have run up and down the mountain 10 ten times than go back down on that mule again. I had the constant feeling I was going out over the mule’s head. İ was a wonderful source of amusement to all around me. The man leading the mule....the four legged one...... was keeping a good grip on me and telling me not to be afraid. Every so often we had to stop as I kept slipping forward and he had to hoosh be back. I was holding on to ropes on the saddle, front and back, and now have skinned knuckles to add to my tales of woe!! Hubbie was keeping pace with us along the path and I noticed he was taking more photos of me and the mule than he had taken on the whole trip so far. Complete strangers were taking my photograph. I have nightmares of coming across my descent on YouTube some day. I was the entertainment for many that morning. 



Finally, my little wall appeared and I dismounted. The good leg was nearly as wobbly as the bad one but recovered quickly on contact with terra firma. But there was a wonderful sense of achievement and great smiles and support, among the wise cracks from the rest of the group.

From here we wove our way down the mountain and, fair dues to Ümit our driver, he negotiated the hairpin bends on the road safely and without sending me screaming for the nearest loo. There was quite a bit to be seen in the area. 
We stopped first at Arsemia, where we saw a carving showing a hand-shaking scene between King Mithradates and Hercules, carved in about 50 B.C. Also we saw the largest rock inscription in Anatolia. It tells of the political intentions and the religious beliefs of the Commagene Kingdom, that Arsameia was its capital and that Mithridates, the father of Antioches, was buried there.



We could also see the tumulus on Mt. Nemrut and another on a mountain opposite that, the tumulus for the royal women.



We also stopped to walk across the Roman bridge of Cendere, built in the 3rd century. Three of the original four columns are still standing. From here it was up again to visit the tumulus for the royal women of the Commegene kingdom.


view from the tumulus

We then returned to the hotel in Adiyaman. It was hard to believe it was only 09.30. It seemed like we had put in almost a full day and memories of the mule were fading rapidly. After checking out, we were back on the road and heading for the Ataturk Dam. It was a spectacular sight and again provided great photo opportunities for trigger happy tourists. We even recorded the group for posterity.







memorial to those who lost their lives while building the dam

We then headed for Şanlıurfa . Again to our amusement, in the hotel, Megan, the single member of the group had a double bed, Serkan had three beds in his single room and the two married couples had rooms with twin beds – what were they trying to tell us? But at least here there was a lift to save me hobbling up and down the stairs. After a half an hour to relax in the nice cool room we set out for lunch. It was absolutely delicious. Some had Urfa Kebabs and others pide. There was lots of sharing and tasting.




Then it was a walk through the Bazaar area to the Pool of the Sacred Fish. Here, it is reputed that Abraham was thrown into the fire by Nimrod, the fire changed to water and the sticks became fish. For this reason, this is now an area of pilgrimage for many religions.



It is situated in a beautiful park. In spite of the crowds, it has a very peaceful feel to it. We were approached on a number of occasions to stand into photos with people. It was quite funny, we were beginning to think we were celebrities – I didn’t think news of my exploits with the mule had travelled that quickly!




Again, I had the experience of speaking with some of the locals, I had quite a chat with one security guard, which ended with us being invited to drink tea. Unfortunately, time didn’t allow. We were going to see Abraham’s Cave, reputed to be the birth place of Abraham himself. On the way we passed family food stalls. Local families cook food and sell it, with all the proceeds going to charity.
                                            
On to Abraham’s cave where we had to don a long robe to cover up and also wear a headscarf. These are provided at the door. Luckily, I had my own scarf, I usually carry one in my bag when travelling in Turkey, you never know when it will come in handy. There were two entrances, one for men and one for women. They were totally separated inside. There was very little to see, but there were women kneeling praying and some just sitting in groups. For them this was the birth place of Abraham, a holy and sacred place.

We didn’t linger, the challenge for me was to get my shoes back on after we came out. We were waiting for our minibus to come and bring us to Harran, 15 kms from the Syrian border. We decided to go to the toilet before setting out. Once again, a challenge was facing me. The toilets were clean and well maintained but the shoes had to come off and we had to put on plastic sandals instead. 



So, it was on to Harran, to see the amazing beehive houses. It is extraordinary to see these ancient houses and then a modern shop sign saying Dukkan on it. We were invited to dress up in the traditional clothes of the area – more photos opportunities.



I found one that was open down the front so I didn’t have to worry about fit. I then had my headdress put on for me by one of the locals as the intricacies of wrapping and winding were just slightly beyond me. Sean looked like an oil sheik, unfortunately without the money to go with it. It was a bit of fun.

Then we wandered through one of the houses, presented as a folk museum. It was surprisingly spacious and cool in the 40° heat. There was some sort of animal, that looked suspiciously like a pig but was actually a lamb, hanging from the roof. We asked Serkan about it and he told us it was a dried lamb and they used it for making ayran. I’m very glad now I don’t partake of this yoghurt drink!




There is also a castle here and we had a wander around, taking more photos and then it was back on the bus to our hotel in Ürfa. After a rest, we met in the dining room for dinner. It certainly wasn’t the nicest meal I’ve had, there were 5 or 6 pieces of lamb with a few carrots and lumps of potato floating in bowl of white gravy. And Hubbie didn’t even get the carrots. When informed that Sabya was vegetarian they took the meat out for and served it to him as the vegetarian option. Naturally, it went back! Unappetising to say the least, but luckily we had had a wonderful lunch and all most of us wanted, was our beds.




We made arrangements to meet at 08.30 for breakfast as we were leaving the group in the morning. We had rented a car and were heading out on the last stage of our journey to Mardin.

Ihlara Valley

Wednesday 5th May The Ihlara Valley.

Today was truly my downfall! After a lovely breakfast we met with our tour group and guide Fatih, aka Ryan Giggs, and set off for the Ihlara Valley.

With a brief photo stop for a panoramic view over Goreme we were on our way. The group was small, there was a girl from Vancouver, two from Arkansas , a couple from Melbourne and a couple from Holland.



As we were driving along, I was itching to stop the bus to take photographs, the snow covered mountains made a beautiful backdrop to the green fields we were passing. This is why I’m not mad about bus tours - but on the other hand if we were ever to get anywhere perhaps it is the better way for me to travel. So I took a couple of photos through the bus window, there was a little reflection, but at least it was better than nothing.



So, you can imagine my delight when we arrived at Ihlara to start our 7km trek to find a lovely snowy mountain just waiting for me to take it’s photo.



After a quick trip to the loo, I bought a couple of bottles of water, asking for them in turkish of course, leading to a longer conversation with the shopkeeper and the girl from Vancouver as to why I was able to “speak” turkish. Of course I should have remembered that pride comes before a fall!



I was delighted to find nice wide stone steps down into the valley instead of rickety wooden ones that I feared might be there. We were bringing up the rear of the group when suddenly my right leg went from under me. I felt a sharp pain the the back of my calf and also in my ankle. İ had slipped on some loose gravel, much to my embarrassement.



I hopped up quickly, Hubbie insisting I take my time but I just wanted to get on. The leg wasn’t too bad and I would manage. Unfortunately, the next bit was scrambling over some rocks to complete the descent. Well, my pride was in tatters now. My 83 year old mother would have managed it better! I have been going to physiotherapy for a few weeks because I have Rotator Cuff Tendonitis in both shoulders, sounds impressive but it just means that if I move my arms the wrong way or over-stretch them, they hurt like hell.  Drama queen or what, most people get one frozen shoulder but I had to have two...with a bit of tendonitis for good luck. İt was worse because of a fall in the bath 3 months ago. Nobody is going to believe I don’t drink if I continue to make a habit of falling!



Anyway, we walked on. The valley is very scenic and dotted with churches in the steep sides of the canyon. A beautiful river runs through it. I didn’t go to see the churches because while the others climbed up, I sat and rested my injury. The group were wonderful and so was Fatih, they were very understanding that I was a little slower than the rest and the girl from the Netherlands gave me arnica to rub on my leg.

The hike was not terribly challenging, but during the first half, there were a few places where two good hands oh oh, were needed to scramble over rocks, and the ground surface was sometimes slippy with loose gravel on top of the rock. The second half of the trek is easier, without many obstacles to be crossed.



We stopped for lunch beside the river in Belisirma before heading on to Selime Catherdral. This again is an ancient rock church, but different from those we had seen before. Many of the other churches were famous for their frescos but this one is important because of it’s architecture. I took a look at it up a steep hill and decided to stay at the entrance but I sent Sean up to take photos for me.



I took some photos from the entrance and soon started a conversation with the people down at the gate. I explained why I wasn’t going up and was given an iris to cheer me up. They were amazed that an Irish woman could speak Turkish and I was soon told about their families.



I was also shown the grammar book from which the man taking the entrance fees was learning English and he told me it could help me with my Turkish too.

A short while later the lady from Melbourne came back down as she did not like heights and we were soon to be joined by her husband as he had become separated from the main group. Taking photos is a dangerous pastime!
We had a lovely chat sitting in the sun.



From here, we went to Guzelyurt to see a small underground city but on the way Fatih who had noticed me earlier taking the photos through the window, stopped the bus so we could all take photos of “Big Hasan and little Hasan” the snow covered mountains in front of us, which was very thoughtful of him.
The next stop on our tour was a visit to the underground city. Again I had to sit this one out as there was a tunnel that was a short steep drop. We then walked to the nearby mosque. It had originally been an Orthodox church but was converted to a mosque after the population exchange in 1924.



The imam came to give us a guided tour, Fatih translating, but the imam was frequently interrupted by an old man who corrected or added to what the imam was saying. His father had come from Greece at the age of 10 as part of the population exchange.

Later he came back, with bread, still hot from the oven for us. The imam told us that this was not something he had ever done before, it was just for our group. He had obviously taken a shine to us. İ would have loved the opportunity to talk to him at length, he had stories to tell.



From there we drove back to Pıgeon Valley to take photos and a quick trip around an onyx factory.



The previous night we had made a reservation at Dibek for their Testi Kebapi. The one night we coulod have done with staying at the hotel, we had to go downtown. Sean got a bag of ice for my ankle, which now resembled the balloon we had flown in, in both size and colour. He asked them to book us a taxi but they said they would drive us down.

We arrived at the restaurant and my first challenge was to lower myself to the cushions on the floor for eating. After removing my shoes I did a very ungraceful flop much to everyone’s, including my own, amusement.

Testi Kebapi is a local dish, cooked in a sealed clay pot for approximately three hours. The pot is brought to your table, cracked open with a hammer and served on a plate.



We had a lovely meal and I did all my talking in turkish. Our waiter wanted to give us a glass of Cappadocian wine on the house, because he appreciated my efforts to speak Turkish and my ability to laugh at myself. Unfortunately, neither of us drink! I told him that if he had a crane to get me up off the ground again, I would gratefully accept it instead.

We left the restaurant and went to a music shop I had spotted the previous night. I explained I wanted turkish music to make a backing track for a slideshow of my photos but didn’t know what to buy. He told me he would play some tracks for me to choose. Once again, there were compliments on my Turkish, pity I had a swollen ankle to go with my swollen head!

We took a taxi back to the hotel, went to the reception area to check emails and met a lovely Indian couple, Anamika and Subya, now living in Switzerland, who were also going to do the three day trip to Mt Nemrut and Sanliurfa.

We would have good company, the question was how was I going to walk up the mountain?

The Balloon Trip Goreme

Cappadocia to Mardin part 3 The Balloon Trip

Tuesday 4th May. The Balloon Trip!!

Well here’s the first negative note of the holiday. We had to get up at 05.20 for our balloon trip!!!



But it was worth it! If you are coming to Cappadocia, beg steal or borrow, but find the money for the balloon trip. And make sure you spend the extra and do the De Luxe trip.



There is no comparison between the two. There appears to be far more space on the de luxe tour We saw the other trips getting ready to take off and they were stuffed into the baskets like sardines. There were only ten of us in the basket and everyone had a excellent view.




The de luxe trip also lasts a good 90 minutes in comparison to approximately 50 for other tours. Jules was amazed we had booked the de luxe trip, considering I have an unreasonable fear of heights. However my desire to take the trip was stonger than my fear.



We were collected at our hotel and I must say for someone of my athletic ability, climbing into the basket was a bit of a challenge. I’m glad no-one was unkind enough to record it. However once installed it was up, up and away among the fairy chimneys. As we sailed close to them our pilot Hayri of Goreme Balloons informed us he was Turkey’s youngest pilot but he never tells anyone until he is in the air.



He may be young but we were in safe hands. The lift-off was barely noticeable. Sometimes we were very high and at others passing over trees and fairy chimneys by a whisker. It was amazing but even when we were at our highest I had no sense of fear. Perhaps because the sides of the basket are quite high I felt totally safe. There is also no sense of motion just a feeling of being suspended in mid air.



Both the ascent and descent is like a very smooth elevator ride. It was amazing how the pilot and ground crew brought the balloon to land on the small flatbed trailer, designed to transport the baskets to and from the launch sites. It was also fascinating to see the big majestic balloon rolled and folded up into a neat package.



Then after champagne or fruit juice, to celebrate the flight we were presented with certificates to commerate the event.
Then it was back to the hotel for breakfast, and a snooze in the hammock.

Next is the Ilhara Valley and therein hangs a tale!

Photo Safari Goreme

Monday May 2nd Photo Safari.

Today we had booked a photo safari with Heritage Travel and they added in a visit to Kaymaklı Underground City.

It was built by the Chrıstians to hide in times of persecutıon. The city is built on seven levels of which four are open to the public. İt was well worth the visit and Deniz our tour guide was wonderful. She was extremely informative and did her best to avoid the huge crowds that were there. We arrived at about 9.30 and already there were numerous tour buses there. They say that the city was never meant for continuous occupatıon but to be used only in times of danger. There are 14 known underground cities in the region and it is believed they could house up to 30,000 people at any given time. However they stored their food there in readiness for times of attack, so that in times of danger they just had to move in. The temperature inside the caves remains at a constant 15 degrees and so to this day the numerous caves that dot the region are still used to store crops. This area provides 60% of Turkey’s potatoes. The underground cities included churches, kitchens, stablesand wineries in addition to the normal living space. They also had big stones to close off each level in times of attack.



Kaymakli Underground City
We arrived back at Kelebek to find Jules, a professional photographer, waiting for us in an old World War II jeep. Our Photo Safari had begun. Now this was my idea of an organised tour. We were asked what type of photos we wanted to take. İn Cappadocia, for me, it had to be landscape. So she planned a route based on where we would get the best light. All İ can say was the day was amazing. We left the world of tour buses behind and did some light hiking around the valleys with nothing but birdsong to be heard. Jules is so enthusiastic about photography, willing to help and guide if required, but very unobtrusive. Amazing for someone with her professional background to have such patience and sense of fun with two amateurs.
Rose Valley




We broke the day with lunch at the Anatolian restaurant in Göreme and once again it was delicious. Then back to trampıng up and down the valleys. İ restraıned myself and only took 489 photographs and that doesn’t include the ones I deleted on the move.







Jules' Donkey
Uchisar
All I can do is talk in superlatives since we have arrived. I’ll let the photographs say the rest. This is the link to some more of my photos Cappadocia.

May 2010 Cappadocia to Mardin

Saturday May 1st Dublin to Göreme

Well, the journey has started and we are on our way. Those who asked me to write about our trip will be sorry because as those who know me well, know, I love the opportunity to talk!

We decided to make an early start so we headed for Dublin on Friday evening. We got a great deal in Bewleys Hotel at the airport to stay for a night and park the car for 12 days. This means we didn’t have to get up at the crack of dawn on Saturday.

We checked in for our flight without any problem and had breakfast in the airport. I have never bumped into anyone I know in Dublin airport so I was very surprised to meet the retired principal of my school. We had worked together for 18 years. Not only did we meet but he was sitting across the aisle from us in the plane. It is his first time coming to Turkey. He plans to spend a week in Istanbul. I will have to ring him when I get home to see what he thinks of the place.

We had 5 hours between flights. Our bags had been checked through to Kayseri so we got a taxi to Bakırköy. There is a big shopping centre there so we had a mooch around and then had pide. Everyone was very surprised İ spoke turkish......even if badly but İ had great fun trying it out. My reward was the smiles and the compliments on my beautiful turkish! We had a lıttle bit of excitment on our way to the shopping centre when our taxi driver cut in front of a car coming up to traffic lights. The driver got out of his car and so too did our taxi driver and they had a very heated discussion in the street about his driving. We thought there was going to be fisticuffs for a moment. Luckily the lights went green and they both decided it was wiser to move on.
It was back to the airport then for our flight to Kayseri. The flight was uneventful and both our suitcases and orselves successfully made the transfer.

We had booked the trip through Heritage Travel and they picked us up at the airport. We arrived at the Kelebek Hotel at three in the morning and we were brought immediately to our room. Check in procedures were left until later in the morning.

We had booked room 103 in what used to be the stables. It is a junior suite and we were speechless. The room is beautiful, there is a sitting room, furnished with turkish antiques and the bedroom is a cave.


The sitting area of our suite
If you want all the mod cons like wi-fi and mini-bars in your room this is not the place for you but if it is atmosphere and peace and quiet you want, it is perfect.


The bedroom
The view from the breakfast room is amazing. It would certainly put the grumpiest of risers into a good mood.


View from the breakfast terrace
Check-in formalities completed we spent a little time soaking up the sunshine in the hammock in the rose garden before we set out for the Open Air Museum here in Göreme. We opted to take the guıded tour organısed by Herıtage Travel here at the hotel. There were just three of us and the guide. We thoroughly enjoyed the tour. İt has been a long time since we have taken guided tours, usually gettıng about ourselves with the aid of a guide book, and we had forgotten how much extra information you receive.

İt was very relaxed, we were not rushed from place to place and given plenty of times to take our photographs. Even though there were many tour buses at the museum, entrance to the churches was very well stewarded and only a certain number allowed in at a time. The frescos were amazing and very well preserved especially in the ‘karanlık kilise’ the dark church.


Frescos in the Open Air Museum in Goreme

This was also to be seen at the entrance to the museum


Natural rock formation 
Later this evening we went downtown and found the restaurant Nazar Börek, recommended on Trip Advisor, and, true to the reviews, the food was wonderful. İn addition to the food we had live folk music which added to the occasion. The restaurant filled rapidly and so we shared our table with a young couple from Libya and their two month old baby. İt made for a very interesting and enjoyable evening.


Music while we eat
If the rest of the holiday is as enjoyable as today, we truly will have the holiday of a lifetime.