As with Ev­ery­thing in Turkey, Our Trip to Cap­pado­cia Was Loosely Or­ga­nized and Not Ex­plained

The Iowa Review - - FRONT PAGE -

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

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