October 10

(in which our heroes briefly split the party)

Things got going a bit late today, as the hot-air-ballooning went a bit overtime. It would have been a neat experience, but my first rule of vacation is relaxing, and getting up before dawn would not qualify, at least unless I'd had a chance to bank some sleep first.

I, on the other hand, am fine skipping sleep, but am way too nervous of heights for this to sound fun. I wonder where this neurosis comes from - I don't think I've ever been really endangered by high places.

I should note that Mustafapasa has one of the friendliest cats on the planet. Mmmm.

First thing today was a valley hike (Ihlara Gorge). As I do after the first ice of winter each year, I slipped and fell on my butt in the mud at the first stream crossing. After that, with my system properly calibrated, it was fine - though I had to explain to Alp that the best way to help me was to stay away from the crossing... his instinct was to offer a hand, but basically, when faced with a water hazard, what I want to do is pause, and them make a plan for leaping to the other side (we're talking 3-4 feet wide, a few inches deep of water - the condition of the banks is really the problem.)

The valley was absolutely packed with pigeon holes... what you do is create a vertical structure, multi-level, where the pigeons sit, and leave droppings to be harvested as fertilizer. When the time comes to harvest, you smoke the pigeons out, then climb up and collect. Smoke not only drives them off, but also supposedly masks the scent of humans, or else they wouldn't come back.

Now, implement this concept as a structure you mostly carve out of a hillside, instead of freestanding, and you have it. The valley is full of them. If they were just holes in the cliff, it wouldn't be so interesting, but since the cliff is irregular, there are parts that have to be built.... so you get this neat-looking architecture, hanging in free space halfway down a cliff (Look at the pictures, then you will understand.)

All of this building-stuff-into-rock, and out of rock, is possible because the local geography is dominated by a thick layer of "tufa", o volcanic ash. It's a very soft stone, except after it has been exposed to air, which hardens it some.

I was a wuss and did not go on the hike; eight of us stayed behind (one was sick) and visited a "farmer's market" (more like half a clothes bazaar and half fruits & vegetables), and then an ice cream / pastry / coffee shop. Turkey really does have good desserts as a national specialty.

We also met an older woman who watched us watch her war her headscarf, and graciously demonstrated it again. She had no English, and I was busy wowing my companions with my few phrases like "My Turkish is very very bad" and "I am an American" so it's not like there was any meaning exchanged beyond "Hello, we are friendly and so are you." But that's nice to be able to say, regardless of vocabulary. Jerry's initial Turkish lessons seem to have focused on things like numbers and how to ask for things - mine is all about explaining that I don't understand. Mine seems to be more useful, on first approximation, as it turns out that anyone in Turkey who wants to sell you something will speak sufficient English to do so, and probably at least half a dozen other languages as well . (Someone said "Konichiwa!" to Derrick on the way back from the Grand Bazaar the other day, and they say "G'Day!" to Mikka and Jerry ...)

After lunch, we went to a ceramics workshop (Guray Seramik in Avanos), where they do a pottery-throwing demo (this is not our tour, but that's the same potter!), and then let you walk through their decoration area, etc, and then, of course, the showroom. Now, I knew which way the wind would be blowing in there... let's just put it that way. Their collection was really quite awesome, with plenty to covet, but we walked out with a couple of "student quality" bowls, and a little cup possibly suitable for a shot glass collection. They hoped to sell us on some of their spiffy professional-quality pieces (free shipping for the whole order, which is significant), but, like the carpets, it was just more than we were interested in spending.

Possibly surprisingly, if I were given a choice between the $28,000 masterwork bowl and the $13,000 carpet, I would choose the carpet. I still think it might fly.

Toward the end of the afternoon, we get a tour of an underground city. It was truly a maze of twisting passages that I would really hate trying to invade. Reminded me of both hacking and dungeon crawling. There's nothing like squeezing through a 2x3 or so corridor to remind us all of just how easygoing our GMs are. "You try to do what? Rush down a 2x3 corridor in full plate mail while swinging a battle axe? Are you sure? OK... you get wedged in there so hard that your character's corpse and gear are now an integral part of the cave system."

The drive toward the evenings's hotel, an ex-monastery, was a little exciting... we were taking pictures of the sunset on one side of the bus, and then ten minutes later, it was on the other side... and then, Alp announces that we will be a little late because the hotel called him with the turn about 15km too late. At dinner, he explained that a road had collapsed down a hillside earlier today, and we didn't get the word until a little after the correct diversion.

My first theory was that Turkey was actually much smaller than advertised and they were tacking back and forth to make it seem larger. Theory two was that he didn't know how to get there, which was a bit inexplicable, given that previous tours had gone there.

Alp talked a little bit about the tour guiding business. He likes Rick Steves tourists because we're less cranky on average. (Actually, he put it much more positively). It seems that everwhere but the U.S. requires tour guides to be licensed and trained. Alp has been to NYC a couple of times... and yes, he's given tours, to other Turks at least. I bet it's a very good tour.