Day 10 - Goreme

This morning we rented a scooter from a motorcycle enthusiast named Osman who made some recommendations on where to go. So we went North to Cavusin. Here there are ancient homes carved into the cliff wall that was something like a block of swiss cheese that we could hike through. Erosion has exposed pretty much all of the rooms, leaving us to clamber over rocks and into gaping holes were once there might have been doors. After a while we're hailed from above by a voice that says 'church!' and a finger pointing far above us.

After searching unsuccessfully for a way up we see some Americans above who tell us to find a way through rooms into the hill and out the other side to a patch that leads to the top. The climb is high enough, but easy going in most places, although we had to puzzle our way through caves, along a wooden balcony path and cling to the rock wall for a bit. Our reward is an ornately carved chapel, with most of its frescoes destroyed by the elements, and graffiti.

As we ride the scooter into Pasabaglari we stop for a coffee, and then it really starts to rain. An Australian we had met in Istanbul and his friend show up on mountain bikes and we shared some laughs and stories over tea in the shelter of the coffee shop. There really isn't much to see from the road except mushroom shaped volcanic cinder cones, and although there are people hiking up the hills in the distance we don't want to be caught in the rain up there so we head on to Ozconak, and through some wrong turns we end up taking the long way there through some beautiful country roads.

When we finally get there we are treated to our first underground city - a small but rarely touristed one. These places feel like mines, and we can't help feeling a little like Indian Jones exploring the narrow and short tunnels, and peeking into dark holes carved for storage with our flash light. The rooms are high enough for my 6 feet to stand in with a few centimetres to spare, but the connecting tunnels are so short I have to double over at the waist, and compress my legs to get through - the passages are so narrow that it is very hard to turn around bent over like that; we wonder how tall these people were, and if they ever cracked their heads if they were in a hurry to get somewhere.

Underground it is cold, damn and dark, and we wonder what life could be like here, but there are reminders of their lives; stone hearths, chapels, storage units and rungs for tying animals all carved right into the stone walls.

We make a bee-line for home for Goreme, stopping only to take in the fantastic views but even then it was nearly dark and quite cold when we get back.

You can see more of our photos here:
http://picasaweb.google.com/thewozza
http://picasaweb.google.com/leah.lesyk/Istanbul