CAPTIVATING CAPPADOCIA
Of Lunar Landscapes and Underground Cities, Fairy Chimneys and Earth Pillars, Caves and Churches, Sucuk sans Turkish Coffee
After an overnight stay in Istanbul—a city often visited—we drove to the airport at the break of dawn for an hour and a half long on yet another Turkish Airlines flight to Kayseri, the preferred hub to the 160-square-kilometer Anatolia Region, of which our main destination was Cappadocia, a jarring contrast of natural wonders and fanciful architecture, some 730 kilometers from the capital.
Its name, mentioned in the Bible, specifically in the Acts of the Apostles, Chapter Two, Verse Nine, is derived from katta peda, which means place below from the language of the Hittite Empire, is the origin of its toponym.
Today, it cements itself as an ethereal destination for tourists and travelers, environmentalists and archaeologists, the adventurers and the devout, and even the curious, who wish to seek out the many quirks of nature.
AMIDST HISTORY AND HERITAGE
We walked through the picturesque town of Avanos, our entry point, and crossed the hanging bridge over the fabled Red River, whose reflection showcased a beautiful local mosque, with two minarets piercing through the skies, amidst the lush green scenery.
At a point this early in our land trip, we already felt a magical, magnetic pull, which entranced and held us captive until we arrived at the Monk’s Valley.
Registered as a United Nations World Heritage Site in 1985, it is notable for the iconic fairy chimneys and its standout thin earth pillars—totem-pole shaped spikes made of soft rock with pieces of hard boulders, formed that way due to elements of nature. It protrudes from the bottom of arid plains, ranging in height from six feet to several stories high.
Whimsically situated at the center was the Pacha's Vineyard, where some of the cones were split into smaller portions in the upper parts, wherein hermits once settled.
Speaking of hermits, Istanbul-based Vulcan—our Tour Guide for the next ten days who possessed the brain and heart for the vocation—shared local folklore of a holy man who lived in seclusion near Aleppo, Syria. As several miracles were being attributed to him, he shied away from attention and found refuge here. He would rarely descend from his hole, and if ever, only to fetch basic sustenance. Soon, other hermits followed his lead, by turning the hollowed out rock formations into quarters.
Today, a chapel dedicated to Saint Simon—the holy man of yore—and a shelter for solitary ones, had been established in chimneys with three heads.
Five kilometers away was the Devrent Valley, likewise called the Imaginary Valley, for it did not have churches nor castles. In fact, it had never been inhabited.
However, what was truly unique is its iconic lunar landscape, formed by various rock formations, where we imagined strange otherworldly stone shapes, such as dolphins and seals, and even a camel. We just let our imaginations run wild, akin to staring at fast-moving white clouds on clear blue
skies, creating certain form and shapes, as we tried to make out several other peculiar figures.
As we prepared to move on, our Tour Guide teased us “Did you see the one similar to the Virgin Mary, holding the baby Jesus?” he asked.
For our 48-hour-two-night-stay upon the suggestion of our operator Intas Destinations, we were billeted at the MDC Cave Hotel in the old town of Urguk, nestled by the side of a mountain. Upon arrival, we visited each others’ caves—a first for all my traveling buddies. Each of the 46 chambers come in all shapes, sizes, and designs, as it took advantage of the region's soft stones, by shaping them into high-quality shelters. Each boasted of their own almost unbelievable stories, all well restored under the masterful assistance of the UNESCO Heritage Center guidelines.
It was without a doubt, a never-again-to-be-experienced type of accommodations, full of history and heritage, luxury and style, charm and character.
Early the following morning, as we admired the spectacular view of the valley interspersed by patches of green and enjoyed pure mountain air, we spotted two local ladies with turbans on their heads and scarves on their necks, happily squatting by a low table, busy as they folded sort of a crepe-lumpia hybrid filled with nuts, jelly, and cheese.
A UNIQUE CULTURAL EXPERIENCE
We decided to skip the very generous Western buffet, and opted for a traditional Turkish breakfast: a large tray with slices of white cheese, a variety of tomatoes, loads of cucumber, black and green olives, a wide array of fruit jams, honey and butter, omelettes and boiled eggs, sucuk—dried sausage made of beef, garlic, pepper, and cumin-breads with choices of white, grain and rye; all served with black tea.
Someone whispered that Turks don’t have coffee—of any kind—with their breakfast.
The first activity of the second day was a carpet-making lecture and workshop, a highly informative and educational opportunity hosted by a zealous expert who seemed like