Buried deep beneath the moonscape of the plateau are mysterious underground cities, some stretching as many as eight floors down into the depths of the volcanic bedrock. No one knows for sure why they were built, but whatever dark secrets are entombed down here were never meant to feel the warmth of daylight. You can almost feel the suffocating weight of history, like the shortness of breath that comes from stale, earthy air.
Mei's wondering what the big deal is, these tunnels are plenty roomy.
Hate to break it to you dude, but when I get stuck you're going to have to give me a big shove up the ass. What happens in the tunnels stays in the tunnels.
The last creature that could actually fit in that hole was a mouse trying to find its way to the grain storage.
The next stop on the scenic driving tour of Cappadocia is the picturesque Ihlara Valley. Sounds like the kind of place where a gratuitously CGI-ed Orlando Bloom would go jumping along floating barrels in a rollicking quest to save Miranda Kerr from the vile clutches of James Packer.
Like pretty much every valley in these parts, the upper cliffs are pockmarked with cave dwellings interspersed with the occasional cave church. They must have abandoned them when they realized there's no way to get high speed internet up there.
The climb to one of the cave churches. Why are pilgrimages always such hard work?
These savvy women have opened up a grilled pita stall in one of the sun drenched meadows where the river meanders around a bend. Needless to say, business is booming. Wonder if they're looking to open a franchise in the East Village?
Turkey boasts a lot of great food, but the freshly squeezed orange juice, available on every street corner, or in this case river bend, is hard to beat. Especially on this furnace of a day.
It's been a long time and a lot of miles since Abrakebabra on Cuba Street boys.
Cave churches are starting to suffer from the same diminishing marginal returns as the mosques of Istanbul. Plus there's the added impediment of having to haul yourself up a ginormous cliff every time you want to see one. Even worse, there's no call to prayer, which is the easiest way to rationalize skipping a mosque.
Lunch always tastes better on the water. These Ottoman huts suspended out over the river offer a welcome bit of shade after the dusty hike up the valley.
Hope this contraption has a reinforced floor, it's going to need it after this feast.
The last stop on the Cappadocia circuit is the secluded Soganli Valley, well off the usual tourist loop. Just when you think you've seen enough cave churches, Soganli adds a new twist. Instead of being carved into cliff walls, the churches in this valley are built into hollowed out chimney rocks.
Like a giant ant hill, the whole rock formation has been transformed into a maze of interconnected rooms and tunnels. Some lead deep into the cliff below, others rather precariously end as gaping windows high above the valley below.
The land takes on an epic scale out here, a playground for the giants of old.
Unlike the open air museum, there's no fences or interpretive signs out here. It's a little spooky how one can freely venture into the yawning holes in the hillside without any idea of what lurks inside.
Time to hit the long road back to Göreme. Once again the vastness of the plateau hits home. Or, if you believe Mei, it just seems big because Rock is driving so slow.
Sunset on a long day that started at 4am with hot air balloons followed by a 200 km circuit of the region. Throw in an underground city, a couple of valleys, unlimited cave churches, and you've got yourself quite a solid day's adventuring.
Home on the range. Looks like Göreme is, uhm, happy to see us.
Turkish coffee is an acquired taste seeing as they leave the grounds in, like sediment at the bottom of a river. But trusty Oze Coffee delivers a top notch iced chocolate, where the only residue left over is a final spoonful of chocolate syrup.
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