As with Everything in Turkey, Our Trip to Cappadocia Was Loosely Organized and Not Explained
An indication of the hotel would be this: I spread towels on the dresser before putting out our things.
It was hot but we wandered dutifully behind Ibrahim as he explained the ruins. We were bombarded by peddlers trying to sell us wallets.
None of us really knew what to look for and it is obvious that we didn’t get the most from the trip. I bought a string of strangely shaped
amber beads which I have since been told by an expert are really “quite special.” We changed to an Old World hotel frequented by
Winston Churchill. It was apparent to us— after we didn’t get served in the main dining room— that we were not their favorite customers.
Just as I fell asleep, I heard Sam exclaim that he had not loaded the camera correctly. All the pictures we took
were now never taken. All we had left was a flower given to me by a little girl to whom I gave candy.
We are not sure if the trip was worth it. But we would never have known if we had not gone.
—lines from a travel journal, 1974