Istanbul Revisited

Well, ladies and gentlemen, this is it: My final blog entry about Turkey.

After leaving Cappadocia, we have just one more day to spend in the metropolis.

The sheer scale of the place still impresses during our nighttime ride from the airport. The vast, sprawling urban landscape is made even more evocative by pouring rain. (Have I ever mentioned how much I love rain? I love rain.)

This time we're staying in a trendier (i.e., dirtier) part of the city - one with fewer world-famous giant mosques and more Shake Shacks.

Having already taken care of most of the "must see" sites on our list during our first two days in the city, we enjoy the chance to wander around a bit and enjoy Istanbul's sights and sounds.

In our wanderings, we run across the 14th century Galata Tower

Then we head down to the waterfront for the obligatory Bosphorous Cruise. The cruise re-enforces our observation that Istanbul is an eminently photogenic city.

The continent spanning Bosphorous Bridge. Europe on the left, Asia on the right.. 

After the cruise, we visit the spice market and shop for souvenirs.

As evening falls, we test our night photography skills

...And then it's time to say good night to Constantinople.

-

Our time in Turkey has drawn to a close. But fear not, dear reader! There is more - much, much more - to come. Up next? I fly 1,000 miles west to encounter: Religion! Nudity! More crowds than a boy can handle! And more! 

Special Report: The Cats of Turkey

Turkey has a stray cat (and dog) problem. The filthy, adorable creatures are everywhere. Istanbul alone is home to an estimated 100,000+ stray dogs, and who knows how many hundreds of thousands of cats.

I kind of love cats (so do most tourists, as it turns out), so I couldn't help but pester every poor, innocent feline I came across by snapping a million and a half photos.

There's just something inherently striking and photogenic about a cat walking nonchalantly among some ancient ruins or lounging on a fallen Roman column.

So to honor all those strays - and to give me something to do with all these cat pictures - here is a blog post dedicated entirely to pictures of Turkey's cats.

Google helpfully created this GIF for me automatically. 

"Can't a guy (or gal) bathe in peace?"

Oh hai there!

"Excuse me while I scratch my face against this 2,000 year old column."

"D'you think you've got enough pics of us yet, silly human?"

This Cappadocian cat had a great routine - jump into my lap for a few minutes, jump down and take a walk around the hotel lobby for a few minutes, then jump back up for some more tlc.

...And, to bring things full circle, a picture of me taking a picture of a cat.

There are eight million (give or take a few million) cats in Turkey - this has been the story of just a few of them.

...And thus ends my shameless ploy to draw internet traffic with pictures of cute cats.

Cappadocia

Cappadocia is one of the most widely known areas of Turkey, as well as one of the most distinctive. After our hot air balloon adventure, we had nearly two full days to explore this wonderfully surreal landscape.

I don't really have a lot to say about this area, so I'll just let the pictures do the talking for most of this post.

Goreme Open-Air Museum

Besides providing a scenic subject for photographs, it turns out that Cappadocia's unique rock formations - formed in the relatively recent geologic past by a nearby volcanic eruption - are also ideal for carving. As a result, early settlers in the area carved entire towns - including homes and churches - into the stones. Nowadays, even the hotels are built into caves (but more on that later.)

These rock structures dot the whole region, but the Goreme Open-Air Museum contains some of the most distinctive. 

The area was predominantly inhabited by Christians, so there are many churches among the formations. Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to take pictures inside - but some of the paintings and frescoes were truly impressive, even after 1,000+ years. (Do a Google image search for "Goreme churches" for some examples - and remember that all those pictures are painted on the inside of caves.) 

The Valleys

After exploring the cave, we took a horse-drawn carriage ride through some of the most scenic valleys in the area. 

While the carriage driver's dog merrily followed for miles and miles...

The Underground City

One of the most famous aspects of the region is the 200+ underground cities. 

The cities weren't generally used for long-term living - rather they were used as a place for Christians to hide when invading armies were in the area. The one we visited, Derinkuyu, was surprisingly massive - nearly 200 feet deep at its deepest point and with thousands of feet of tunnels. They had to be big enough to contain thousands of people, live stock, and food supplies.

We don't really have any good pictures of this part of the tour - being underground, the city is unsurprisingly dark and not particularly photogenic. 

Sorry, random guy. I know this isn't the most flattering shot, but I needed some perspective.

As you might suspect, it was quite claustrophobic - particularly when you had to bend your knees just to get down a staircase. I can't even imagine what it would have been like filled with thousands of people and animals. 

This is just one reason I'm glad I'm not a 10th century Turkish Christian. 

Other Stuff

I have lots of pictures from this part of the trip, and no good place to put them. So I'll just dump them here.

Next up: One more day in Istanbul, then out of Turkey and onward to... Well, you'll just have to wait and see. 

Cappadocia from Above

I'm afraid of heights. Planes terrify me. Cliffs terrify me. Second story windows frighten me. Roller coasters send me running for the hills (as long as those hills aren't very high and don't have any cliffs.)

So it was with great surprise that I found myself early one morning in Cappadocia, Turkey climbing into the basket of a hot air balloon.

How did I get here? What was I doing? What is the meaning of life? 

I don't know - but there I was...

-

The air is slightly chilly - it's a good thing we brought our jackets. The sun hasn't quite begun to come up, but in the blue-gray light we can see the silhouettes of Cappadocia's surreal cliffs around us.

The company men unpack the air balloon with expert efficiency. It's strange (unsettling?) to see this contraption that we'll soon be riding thousands of feet through the air in get pulled out of an over-sized duffel bag. 

While we wait for our balloon to inflate, we begin to see other balloons rising into the air. They glow red and orange against the pre-dawn sky. 

And then, after a few minutes, it's our turn.

You don't even feel the balloon leave the ground. It's nothing like a plane, with its obnoxiously loud noises and sudden acceleration. In this case, one moment you're motionless on the ground, the next moment you're steadily rising into the air. The only sound is the steady burst of flaming hot air into the balloon. The calmness of the whole process (no turbulence!) eases some of my fears. 

Soon we're several hundred feet in the air. We're above the level of the cliffs and canyons now. All around us, in every direction, we see other balloons - dozens of them.

The ground continues to recede. 

Our pilot (a friendly Portuguese man who previously did the same thing in Tanzania) helpfully announces our altitude on a regular basis. 

"300 meters."

(i'm not scared)

"500 meters."

(nope, not scared)

"750 meters."

(not...)

"1000 meters."

(ok, yeah, I'm a little bit scared.)

I make the mistake of looking down - straight down. The ground is really far away. There's only a few inches of basket between our feet and... Nothing. Thousands of feet of nothing. A video plays in my head: I lose my balance, trip over something, and tumble out of the basket...

It's a long way down.

Spoiler: Nothing happens. It is in fact very calm up here. I'm still scared, but I'm starting to get over it. We're in the air for quite a while, and I begin to appreciate the beauty of the setting. Even the cliffs and canyons seem rather small and far away now.   

We go just a little bit higher, until it seems like we're the highest of all the balloons in the sky. The sun rises over the horizon.

Finally, it's time to go back down. 

The process of going down is just as painless as the process of going up. It doesn't even feel like you're moving - until you notice that the ground is much closer now. 

Then we spend a good 15-20 minutes kind of just skimming along the surface trying to find a suitable place to land. When you're in an air balloon, you're more or less completely at the mercy of the prevailing winds. 

And then with a thump we make touchdown. 

(hooray! i'm not dead!)

-

We've landed in a fairly isolated spot, so it takes a while for the company vans to reach us to take us back to our hotels. After being fully deflated, the balloon is put back inside its duffel bag.

We just flew in that flimsy piece of cloth.

The pilot celebrates our safe landing by serving wine (and juice for the teetotalers among us.) And I think: I just spent more than an hour floating in a balloon thousands of feet above the ground - and I survived! If that's not worth celebrating, what is?