We had another long drive today. Our first stop was at a cave, 200 million years old! We hiked through parts of it, admiring the geology and taking pictures. It was very beautiful but slippery inside. The only annoying thing about the cave was the strange music echoeing through it...they had set up speakers throughout the cave, playing music that sounded like a cross between a very shrill flute and an electric guitar. It was not pleasant.
We stopped in Konya, home of the Whirling Dervishes, on the way. Ian was very interested in the Dervishes. Konya was a very conservative city; all the women I saw had their arms and heads covered, unlike the other cities we'd been to. There also weren't many tourists roaming the streets. I realized as we toured the Mevlana Musuem (showcasing the Dervishes history and lives) that every tourist in the city was also touring the museum. The complex was completely crowded and it was hard to see or really appreciate anything.
We also had a stop at a karavanseri. This was a place back with the silk road was still used where caravans could stop and rest en route. They were able to sleep free for three nights, and the complex even had a massive area for them to keep their horses and camels. The complex wasn't huge, but then again I doubt there were tons of people needing the space at the same time. Tired of ruins, I went to seek out the children trying desperately to sell us postcards. I found two young girls who wanted to play. We ran around, playing tag and tickling each other. The older children kept asking for money but I ignored them and concentrated on the ones wanting to play. They asked for ice cream, which I didn't mind paying for. It was hot outside and to be honest, I had yet to see a tourist buy a postcard from a child anywhere in Turkey. It could be a very long day for them. Soon there was a group of seven children. I sat down and they all scooted closer to me, a few basically in my lap. They all spoke basic english, and a few spoke very well. I learned that the youngest in the group was five and the oldest 14. I was shocked...all of them looked to be much younger. I asked why they weren't in school and they explained that they finished at noon that day. One of the boys told me he spoke Turkish, English, Spanish, Italian, French, and German. I spoke with him a bit in Spanish and Italian, and he was very impressed. I found it ironic that an 8-year old who spoke six languages was impressed with my (very basic) knowledge of two extras. The youngest girl gave me sloppy kisses on the cheek and giggled. One of the older girls pressed for more money donations, but the boy who spoke all the languages shushed her and said something harsh in Turkish. I was grateful. It was nice to interract with the children while they wanted company, not my money. They all waved and gave me a hug when our bus left.
We arrived in Cappadocia in the evening. Our hotel looks as though it has been carved from a sandstone hill. Our bathroom is a nice size, but there is no seperation between the floor and the shower, so a thin pool of water stretches from one end of the floor to the other, wrapping itself around the toilet and sink whenever we shower. We have one window in the bedroom, but it is not enough to air out the room and keep it from smelling like mildew. We opened the window in the beginning but were soon assaulted by the loud voices of people sitting on our front stoop. Did I mention that our room is the second room from the reception hall? We have a small veranda in front of our room with a wall that seperates our "front yard" from the main causeway in front of us. Everyone walking anywhere in this hotel must first walk in front of our room. Apparently the guests also like to meet in front, sit practically on our doorstep, and talk loudly.
Dinner was at the hotel. It is decorated rather nicely, with white walls and vines and flowers giving everything color. The dining hall is also nicely decorated. One thing I don't understand about Turkey is the vast number of sauces they like to present as food options. In fancy restaurants they will bring us small plates with three or four different sauces, which they may or may not serve with pita bread. I have no idea what Turkish people do with these sauces, resembling garlic sour cream and chopped tomatos, but they love them. It's the same at dinner with an enormous assortment of jellies, dressings, oils, and creams all set daintily in a row, taking up one entire side of the buffet table. On the other side is the salad bar, offering only tomatoes, three kinds of feta cheese, and a mind numbing amount of green leaves, not one of which is lettuce. Instead we can choose from mint leaves, parsely sprigs, and other unidentified bits of green that I have never seen used for salad before.
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