As I have mentioned before, Cappadocia is a region. And while Göreme might be the marrow, there’s still a whole lot of bone.

Let it be said that I do not at all take for granted the fact that I get to visit such places in a car driven by the lovely Turkish boyfriend. I have run my mouth about the appalling lack of signage and while this area might have done a better job of it, it would still be difficult with a language barrier. Foreign tourists overcome this by taking group tours, of course, but I’m glad I am not obligated to such an end. The thought of being stuck on a tour bus with forty people and being herded in and out of chosen sights just doesn’t seem like fun to me. Being able to choose where we wanted to go and how long we wanted to stay was key to my enjoyment. If I chose to skip something, the boyfriend was game. After all, he’d been here, done that. This was MY vacation. I took full advantage of that luxury, believe you me.

WE spent our second day in Göreme touring the neighboring sights. We first made our way to Zelve, which was about a ten minute drive. On the way, we stopped in a very small village called Çavuşin which had an amazing backdrop of rock dwellings high in the hills. This really reminded me of Mesa Verde National Park in Colorado, a sight that really knocked the wind out of me as a youngin’. I snapped a couple of pics and we moved on. This was another men sitting on little stools drinking tea kind of place. “Nothing to see here. Move along.”

When we got to Zelve, I became about ten years old again. There were camels for the riding. Oh, boy! This was what I most wanted to do on this trip. On our last trip, I wanted a massage. This time, I wanted to be a camel jockey.

And again, major props to the boyfriend because I am sure we looked like proper dorky tourists, but he indulged me. To make matters worse, while I sat beaming and snapping pictures, he grumbled and moaned at the rear, in extreme discomfort. I think the haunches were a bad place to be. By the time we got to the end of the trail, he was already attempting to dismount, which seemed ill-advsed considering the height of the ladder we used to get up there. They are seriously up there, camels! And they have the longest most gorgeous eyelashes since my sister. Our poor camel latched onto a leafy branch every time we passed a tree and grunted and moaned and snorted when he was pulled away from his snack. He was a character, our camel. But I swore I could have ridden him through the desert without a care, I was so comfy up there.

We kind of gave Avanos a pass. It’s known for pottery, and I took a picture of the potter statue just so I could say I was there, but we just weren’t in the mood. I can only admire pottery for so long and I do not wish to acquire any, so I hardly saw the point in looking at any workshops or galleries. As I say, it was my choice and I made it with no qualms.

Derinkuyu was cool; quite literally. It’s a vast underground city. It’s essentially a long passageway through a cave, winding down some eight stories. We made it through four and I had gotten the point. I mean, there’s not much down there to actually see. There is a long path and occasionally the space opens up and this is where a meeting hall was, or a dining room. You really need to use your imagination in this sight. There were two really cool apsects of this place. They had these doors that looked like giant stone tablets that were obviously rolled out whenever it was deemed necessary. Also, just as the boyfriend said, “But how did they breathe?”, we turned the corner and saw a gigantic ventilation shaft. I know that rock is supposed to be somewhat soft, but how in the hell did they build things like this is the 11th Century??? It boggles the mind. Well, my mind anyway.
Again, I benefitted from the boyfriend’s knowledge. At the fourth story, he announced that we could keep on going, but it looked the same and we would have to march back up eight stories. So we about faced immediately and made our way back. I felt I’d done the underground city. I’m just like that, I guess. I get the point rather quickly and then immediate satisfaction ensues.

On our way to Ihlara Valley, we kept seeing signs for someplace called Güzelyurt. (Beautiful Country) And I am talking persistent signage. One declared, “A visit to Cappadocia is not complete withput a visit to Güzelyurt.” Well! That may be the case and it might also be bull hockey, but when you put it so bluntly, when you use abundant signage, well, I am going to take a chance on you, Güzelyurt.
The boyfriend was leery as he’d not been there and hadn’t really heard of it. But even he had to admit that someone had done a bang up job with alll of those signs. They were even multi-lingual and they were very boasty. According to what the sign read, we were about to be blown away by seeing hundreds of ancient churches and monasteries; a mighty ballsy claim considering you are not in any guide books, Güzelyurt.

And while Güzelyurt may not have been all that it claimed, it was at least a lazy bucolic village and driving through it was hardly a waste of time. I did get some nice pictures there, although most of them were nature-related. A family of ducks crossing the road at a lesisurely pace, a hand-made garden gate, said garden with little fairy tale stone wall. The ruins were mostly of the piles of rocks variety, but I did get one weird picture of a small Greek columned structure just sitting on the hilltop behind a very shabby residence with all sorts of rusting junk in the yard. It was sort of like Turkey’s version of hillbilly West Virginia, that place. As I crept forward to take the picture, I half expected a crazed dog to lunge out at me, foaming at the mouth a la Cujo.
But nothing of the sort happened. We got back on the road and headed towards Ihlara Valley.

Now, Ihlara Valley also has bunches and bunches of rock churches. But if you ask me, that’s hardly the main attraction. Unfortunately, the frescoes in these churches have been badly vandalized. Had I seen them first, I might still have been impressed. But having seen them after seeing the well-preserved versions in the open-air museum made for a bit of a let-down.
On the upside, Ihlara is a beautiful valley. It’s set at the bottom of a gorge and you wind through the trails and alongside a cool stream. I wish we had been here in the springtime because I saw the dried remnants of some one hundred types of wildflower. It must be a majestic sight to be there when they are blooming!

As it was, we enjoyed our hike thoroughly, ducked into a few churches, listened to the frogs, and called it a day. I called it a lovely day.