Tales from Turkey

We are hanging out for sunshine. And heat.
Whilst being summer, it is 11 degrees, blowing a gale and raining sideways so we are really looking forward to our trip to Turkey if for nothing else some decent weather.
Leaving the UK, we once again took the train to Manchester and this time, instead of crazy drunk men we have the delight of being stuck in the plague carriage. Every person around us is coughing and two ladies are so proud of their hacking efforts they've been comparing how long they've had it for. I shouldn't feel happy to know they've had a cough for 6 months as Tony and I know how serious that could be, but at least it alleviates our panic that they're spreading their filthy germs. I'd be happy if they covered their mouth however!
Our trip to Istanbul was lovely and has to go down as some of the yummiest plane food we've had for ages. Arriving early evening, we took the easy option by getting the taxi in to our hotel. Whilst not quite Delhi or Bangkok standards, his ability to floor it then slam on the brake is something to be admired.....I think.....
Checking in, we have a great location near the Bosphorus but also near the main sites and surrounded by some lovely restaurants. The men at reception cheekily tease us about being Aussies and proudly give us a welcome drink with tinsel wrapped around the straw. We dropped our bags off and went off to find some dinner and just around the corner we found a restaurant busy with locals and a very charismatic and enthusiastic waiter. Spotting another level above the street, there's a little table right on the edge of the restaurant, hanging amongst the lights and in prime spot for people watching. We settle in to the tiny chairs and little table best suited to a four year old but like eager new tourists, it's perfect. The food is yummy- chicken sis and a veggie pide and the cheeky waiter waving to us from the street makes us feel right at home. A wonderful beginning!
The next day we dedicated to being Tommy Tourist, heading off first on a ferry down the Bosphorus and then the afternoon at Topkapi Palace. The palace

was sensational-wandering through courtyards, pavilions and even the harem, it was where the Ottoman Sultan used to live with his wives and 3995 others. Filled with amazing mosaics, beautiful frescoes, architecture and treasure we were amazed by the opulence and decadence of the palace. Wandering through the harem, we met a security guard who began chatting to us. Clearly bored by watching us all filter through, he began sharing little snippets of knowledge with us as well as the best spots to photograph. He told us about the mother of pearl inlay and also pointed out all of the tortoise shell parquetry that we hadn't realised was there. Considering the amount of tortoise shell that was filling this room, we all decided that the tortoises were dead before they collected the shells. Of course.
Outside, the garden was filled with hundreds and hundreds of beautiful roses and numerous gardeners carefully weeding and nurturing. Seeing me attempting to sniff one red rose, the gardener smiled and in Turkish explained to me that these roses didn't smell but if I went over to those ones, they would. Ahhhh, the universal language of smiles, pointing and gestures!
After wandering through the various rose beds and patiently waiting for me to sniff the best scent out, Tony and I headed to the chamber of turbans. In a room larger than our whole apartment, the sultan had so much space, that he could mosaic a whole room just for his turbans. It makes me feel much better about my very small Birkenstock collection.

Returning to our hotel, we met up with our leader and the rest of our group once again feeling somewhat unsettled by joining a group. Whilst happy exploring independently, travelling with Intrepid does allow us to switch our brains off and just appreciate where we are instead of getting bogged down with the logistics. Luckily we have a lovely leader and group so we are off to a good start.
The next day we headed off together on a city walk, discovering the hippodrome, grand bazaar, university, book binding and printing birthplace and the spice markets. Finishing at a dried fruit and nut stand, we eagerly bought up cranberries and trail mix for our next few days of buses and ferries before I spotted my new addiction. Turkish Delight!

Now, before you go thinking it is the crappy stuff you get in your Cadburys or Frys foil wrappers, this stuff is exquisite. Using the same gelatinous base, it is filled with pistachios, has no sugar and is covered in pomegranate seeds. Some are even covered in rose petals. Oh yum. This stuff blows my mind and of course I seem to have found the most expensive one as it sells for $35 a kilo. Wandering back along the Bosphorus, we grab a freshly cooked Balik, fish sandwich and watch the world go by before making a quick dash back to the hotel as the rain came down. As it would turn out, what we thought was the rain, was actually only a few drops compared to what we were about to get caught in. We found our way back to Aya Sophya and the heavens opened. Huddling under our umbrellas, we were drenched as even the umbrella struggled to cope with the intensity of the rain weight and subsequently let little dribbles fall onto our rapidly soaking clothes. Unable to move as we were in a slow moving queue, we had to wait it out, at last making a dash into this stunning museum which was full of drenched humans and cats- both as cranky as each other at getting so wet.
It was sacrilege really to have so many wet bodies in such a stunning place-originating in 537 as a Christian church before being converted to an Islamic mosque in 1453 and now a museum thanks to Atatürk in 1935; this building is stunning. With beautiful mosaics, impressive frescoes and Islamic calligraphy and artwork it is an inspiring place. Being so old there is a lot needing repair and

restoration but everywhere you turn there are intricate paintings, Angels, mosaics of Jesus and Arabic script. It is a testament to the people of Turkey that such a place can exist where Islam and Christianity are embraced together-Atatürk sounds amazing and we want to learn more about Turkish history. Given that the elections are on tomorrow, I'm sure we'll be learning a lot.
With a break in the rain, we managed to squeeze a quick visit into the Blue Mosque before Friday prayers and it is indeed worthy of the most visited mosque in Turkey. Having to take your shoes off with hundreds of other people who are queuing to get in and walking through the water left by the rain did make me wonder how clean we were actually keeping this beautiful mosque however....I am indeed very grateful it is still open to visitors on days like that.
The day of the elections we left early to catch a ferry and a bus to Bursa. We are slowly learning that on public transport, Turks don't talk. We are finding out the hard way when irritated people shoosh us. It's quite hard to be in a group of 13 with no conversation but thanks to modern technology, we are beginning to pop in our earphones and I can see a correlation to a Mum shoving a dummy in.
Arriving mid morning, we dump our bags at reception and begin exploring Bursa. It is ultra conservative compared to Istanbul and apparently has over 300 mosques in it including one of the most revered, Ulu Camii which was built by the sultan after defeating the crusaders. This mosque is quite different to the ones we've seen in Istanbul-structurally it has 20 little domes inside and instead of colourful mosaics, it is filled with black and white calligraphy which towers over the people below changing it from one of beauty to one of imposing. Making sure we have covered our ankles and shoulders and our scarves are tightly wrapped, Tony and I can immediately feel the uncomfortable stares our way and we are even moved on from in front of one shop as the men felt he would lose business. His business was quite interesting as it was full of celebratory outfits. Bridal dresses: red for the engagement party, green for the henna party and white for the wedding itself as well as tiny outfits for boys. Turns out they're circumcision clothes. Hardly something to celebrate....particularly as its done at age seven or above. Ow! The whole market is quite impressive, more like Strand Arcade in Sydney with its gold glistening ready for dowry purchases. Tony got out of it lightly as here he'd have to purchase my weight in gold. I should've porked up for our wedding!
The whole main road was filled with wedding dresses, all on the second level above the shops in glass windows. Most looked like the usual western wedding standard, but there were a few surprises- pink cascading frills and black goth numbers spring to mind. The other thing I noticed were the little toadstool bollards on the sidewalk which made me smile.
Tony and I set off by ourselves in the afternoon to explore the old castle walls above the city, admiring the steep hills which people flock to in winter to ski down. Approaching the walls we were surprised to see what we thought was a statue, move. He was guarding the Sultan's gate and was similar to the British beefeaters in his demeanour and attire. His role now purely aesthetic, we went through uninterrupted to enjoy the views below.
The afternoon was such a delight for me, Aynur our leader, took us to a men's music cafe up a side alley. It was a real Intrepid moment for me as it is one of those things a guide book can never tell you about nor would you find it independently. If you did, you probably wouldn't go in as it was all male even if you wanted to. It was a little tea house filled with old men singing old Turkish songs and playing their

traditional instrument, the Saz. Witnessing a moment of Turkish daily life with men we wouldn't normally interact with on the tourist trail is what makes Intrepid trips so cool. We watched them for a while singing and playing before embracing the moment to get up and dance. Well, I did with Aynur and slowly others got into the spirit although I didn't see Tony shake what his mother gave him.....it's funny how no matter what Intrepid trip I have ever done, it is me who is the first one pulled up to dance!
Being such a devout city, Bursa is also home to the Sufi sect that has the whirling dervishes. A local dervish lodge was nearby so late in the evening, we set off with our fingers crossed to hopefully see the men whirl. The previous trip Aynur had waited until 10:30pm and they hadn't performed due to the upcoming elections. The Imam was getting so passionate in his 'sermon' of who to vote for that the whirling had been delayed. We set off at 10:15pm to hopefully miss this and found the lodge to be packed to the rafters both in and out of devoted Sufi's. A large screen had been set up

outdoors for the masses to watch the Imam speak, and families were sprawled out over the lawn on seats with children running freely about. We were ushered into a back room with some other foreigners and were given the usual hospitable cüy (chai) whilst we waited. Chatting amongst ourselves, I suddenly became aware that the Imam was no longer speaking. Excitedly, I saw the door open and were ushered into the performance room. This wasn't a show for tourists, this was their actual meditation and the room was like a small mosque-domed roof with two levels. The females and small children upstairs and males downstairs. There was a row of dervishes singing in black clothes and musicians sitting. Below the dome on ground level was where they whirled and there seemed to be two men who were supervising with the conical hat on with a coloured turbanesque scarf wrapped over it. In the middle were the whirlers: a man dressed in red in the middle and men and children dressed in white surrounding him. As the began, the red man whirled on the spot and the White men whirled on the spot initially before whirling around the red men in an anticlockwise motion, one arm was reaching up pointing to the sky and the other hand was outstretched, palm down, facing to the ground. Their head was cocked slightly towards the skyward hand and they whirled for 20 minutes straight before stopping completely still and crossing their arms over their chest with their palms on their shoulders, eyes shut. There are no words to describe how beautiful and mesmerising it was to watch them whirl, it was obvious how meditative it was and how utterly at one they all were. There was a small boy aged around seven who was doing an amazing job at whirling and through him, one could see how the technique worked. My theory is that it's similar to ballerina 'spotting' as he seemed to have his eyes slightly opened and didn't seem to be whirling in a complete unbroken circle, slowing down a little at times. Overcome by devotion, one of the supervisors joined in and as he wasn't wearing the circular skirt that flared out, one could clearly see the steps he was making. One foot was firmly planted on the ground and the other stepped in to meet it and then stepped out again to move forward. Both the

music reaching a crescendo and their increasing speed made it incredibly meditative to watch. Sitting amongst the local women, I found myself being befriended by an older lady at the back. Pushing us forward so we could see, they kindly gave up their spot for us. Smiling at me regularly and pointing to my silk head scarf, she appeared to be proud that we'd made an effort to fit in with our clothes. Helping me when my slippery scarf was sliding off my hair, I'd work on holding the front but down and she'd hold onto the back bit to cover the back of my head and my neck. As there were no men with us, it was certainly not to preserve my modesty, only an act of kindness and inclusiveness. Seated next to a lady with a tiny baby, my new friend began universal language-sign language. Pointing to the lady and the baby and then making drumming motions and fingers coming together, I realised that the lady next to me was the wife of the drummer. Impressed, I beamed them both a huge smile (the other universal language) and our friendship was consolidated. As the whirling finished and our group departed, we clasped hands smiling, and I said thank you in Turkish to her. Her smile beamed even wider and she held my hands tighter. Sadly having to leave, I waved her a little wave and she waved me a massive wave back. Carefully weaving my way out of the children and women remaining upstairs, I took one last look at my new friend, and she and her old friend were both craning to see me and were waving me the biggest waves they could( whilst meant to be in dervish prayer!) my heart full of lovingkindness and human connectedness, I somehow managed to miss seeing which way the group had turned and I found myself in a part of the lodge that was unfamiliar. Needing to collect my shoes that were left at another door, I turned, ready to retrace my steps when I realised we had left just before they were about to pray. The whole lodge both inside and out was now praying and I had two choices. Either walk back into the hall where the dervishes had just finished whirling where I would now be the centre of attention or walk through the garden barefoot to then have to re-enter the house with my now filthy and disrespectful feet. I was unable to do either and found myself looking awkward in front of chairs and chairs of people trying to pray. Getting eye contact with another elderly lady, I attempted to sign language my problem. My shoes were over there, and could I go this way or that way? She didn't understand so I squatted down so my head wasn't in the way of the Imam and she drew a chair over for me. Resigned to the fact that the whole group would be waiting for me and that I may be considered impolite and disrespectful by the locals if I moved, I chose the best of the options for me. I prayed with the locals. I prayed that the Imam would quickly finish and I could then join the group. ( I also kept one eye open and over my shoulder to make sure I didn't see Tony leave). My prayers came true and my new grandmother friend shooed her granddaughter over to me who helped me back into the lodge where she explained my predicament to a supervisor who showed me back to my shoes. Dear Tony was waiting anxiously with Aynur as I knew would be the case and I was once again reunited. Not however without feeling sad that my lovely new kind friends were being left behind.......this is a moment of kindness and humanity that has touched my heart deeply and I shall never forget.
Bleary eyed yet heart full, we headed off for Selcuk. Seven odd hours on a bus, I wasn't looking forward to this travel day. Somewhat lightened in mood when we saw our bus was called the 'Kamel Koc' (childish I know, but one has to get through a long trip somehow) we realised upon boarding that riding the Kamel Koc (haha!) wouldn't be as bad as we originally thought. I had wifi, games, movies, loads of leg room and a waiter who gave us free drinks and snacks. Seven hours were passed quickly watching the stunning scenery go by, listening to my audio book and killing things in 'Angry Birds'. Arriving early evening, we dropped off our bags before a quick wander around town. Of particular note this day was the ancient roman aqueducts with stork nests on top. Tony made a funny remark

about this being the birthplace of us all and it wasn't until the next day that we realised the stork had in fact brought us a baby, one of our fellow travellers had just had an ultrasound and found out she was pregnant! We also think that our bag may in fact be pregnant as it seems quite swollen and bulging....
We took a walk the next day to St John's Basilica, managing to get ourselves delightfully lost in the process. As Selcuk is so small, it was welcome and we found ourselves in a sleepy village surrounding the city. Wandering past olive groves, rambling roses and barred up windows, I felt like we'd found something special and we eventually found our way into the ruins. St John apparently lived here until he was 90, and this was the place he wrote his section of the bible. I know how bad my memory is of our travels if I don't write it down immediately, I wonder how accurate John's version of Jesus is when he's writing at 90?
Meeting up with the group, we headed off to watch gozleme being made and eat a plate full of Turkish pancakes, spotting some more ancient ruins, the Seven Sleepers. Both Christians and Muslims revere it as apparently a man went to sleep and woke up 200 years later not realising he'd been asleep that long. It is an archaeologically important site with seven burial chambers and even more things yet to be discovered. Given a taste of ruins, we headed off the Ephesus which is truly incredible. Having been in Rome last year, I personally think Ephesus is even more impressive due to the scale of

the ruins and it's being uninhabited. Rome is absolutely incredible but as its a working city, one really needs a birds eye view to see all of the amazing ruins and buildings whereas in Ephesus, it's en masse. Still very much an archaeological dig site, more and more is being uncovered however the standout is indeed the library. The facade is completely uncovered and in incredible condition with inscriptions, sculptures and columns. We also found the latrines in good condition as was the sign for the local brothel. Nothing much has changed through the ages! Finishing by walking down the Curetes Way, we stopped to soak up the atmosphere of the Great Theatre and I couldn't help but sing a little bit of Lily Allen on the stage. Chatswood Karaoke, that's for you!
Later on in the afternoon, we headed up into the hills into Sirence to sample some of the local wines. Cute little homes built into the hills, surrounded by chooks and olives, it was idyllic. We found an amazing cellar built under a house which was about 300 years old and we happily sampled all he had to offer. Reds, whites, fruits and Muscat, our favourite was a strawberry wine which we've bought to enjoy on our gület trip.
Pamükkale was our next stop and nothing like I've ever seen before. A landscape filled with white, tiny pools full of crystal clear blue water and seeping stalacmites and stalactites it was extraordinary. We walked up barefoot enjoying the water trickling over our feet, arriving to find another ancient city in ruins. Said to have been the place where Cleopatra bathed, the water has medicinal qualities due to the calcium that makes it white and all of the other minerals in thermal baths. Wandering around the ruins was breathtaking with the roses, necropolis and white mounds and gorgeous blue skies. It was a tiny town and as it is the most photographed place in Turkey, quite touristy however despite so many people passing through, most of our group managed to pick up food poisoning and spent either the night or the morning vomiting. My tough old stomach gave it a red hot go but finally caved in at 8am just in time for a 4 hour bus trip. Thank goodness it was a quiet day and where we stayed for the following two nights was a sleepy little Turkish village in Karaköy. Our guesthouse has recently been converted from a family home into a 'pension' complete with roaming chooks, a few pussycats and huntsman spiders. It was a homey relaxing escape and a wonderful base for our walk which was part of the Lycian Way-one of the top ten walks in the world. Beginning our day walking through a ghost village abandoned due to Turkish and Greek wars, our walk went through landscapes of pine and overlooking the sea ending up at the Blue Lagoon and the seaside village of Ölüdeniz. Swimming in the salty rocky sea, we eagerly soaked in the refreshing cool water after our walk as well as lapping up the amazing views of the Aegean Sea from our leisurely restaurant. Having struggled to get in and out of the sea due to the rocky beach, we were all happy to return home to laze by the pool and have a few sneaky

beers-a wonderful day surrounded by natural beauty.
The gület boat is a part of this trip I have really been looking forward to. Spending the day and the night onboard a traditional Turkish boat swimming,snorkelling and eating. Divine! The boat the 'SafiSultan' is much larger than I imagined- we all have our own little room with our own bathroom and we have loads of space on top to sleep, sway in a hammock and eat at a big communal table. Setting off excitedly, we stopped along the way to see a sunken city, levelled by an earthquake in the Lycian times, snorkel and walk to the top of an ancient Lycian castle. Finding a necropolis on the hill with breathtaking views, the chooks were the only sounds breaking the peaceful silence that

existed here. Anchoring our gület in a quiet cove, I dove in once again for a swim only just missing a giant turtle that another passenger had been snorkelling with. Delicious smells wafted up from the galley and when I wrote this swaying in the hammock, I felt incredibly grateful for the wonderful opportunities I have had this year and also so inspired by the beautiful diversity that is Turkey and how interesting our travels have been thus far. I can't wait to sleep in our little room or even better, on the deck!
The delicious smells I was devouring was also inviting the wasps so we thought it best to sleep in our room that night. I loved it, it was like a little hobbit room with curved wooden doors to our bathroom and the corridor and we had a wonderful

nights sleep with the tide gently lapping at our boat, rocking us softly to sleep. I never want to leave! Before I went to bed, I spent a while in the hammock, staring up at the starlit sky enjoying the peace and serenity of nature and the refreshing sea breezes. When we woke the next day, we were surprised to see a small boat approaching us, shouting out in Turkish. Another gület was within the vicinity and had managed to get itself stranded on the seabed. Tying ropes between each boat, our gület strained its motor over and over again, trying desperately to pull the other free. Another turtle popped its head up to watch this commotion and each group of tourists pulled out their cameras to snap mementos of their moment of maritime distress. Unfortunately, the gület wouldn't budge so hopefully they were rescued not long after we left. Stopping on our way for a last minute snorkel I delightedly dove in with an epiphany that in order to feel truly free and content, I need to live near the water.
Reluctantly removing myself from the now anchored gület, we settled into our guesthouse in Kas. Wow,

we had been treated to the biggest and best room of our trip-with sea views, whitewashed walls, and a white cotton curtain blowing gently in the Mediterranean breeze. Taking our time to shower and relax on our bed, we finally made it down to 'lunch' (3:30pm) where we chose the first restaurant we saw. Spotting lentil soup and homemade gözleme, we were convinced. Trusting our intuition always works well for us and the Turkish man and his family immediately made us feel at home. Steering us away from our initial choices to that of his 'speciality', we had an amazing soup, never ending supply of dishes he was cooking up for himself but was proudly sharing with us. This included pickles, fresh cherry tomatoes, olives, gozlemes, fruit and herbal teas. Wanting only a nibble we were left with a table full of amazing food so we methodically worked our way through it all nearly having to roll ourselves back up the hill to our room. Meeting up with our group to watch the sunset, Tony and I set up a little picnic of our strawberry wine amongst the ruins of an ancient theatre drinking in both the

delicious wine and the beautiful location.
We had what Intrepid calls 'an epic travel day' the next morning and what most of us thought was hell. Nearly 12 hours it took us and over 9 of that was public transport. I used to think I was tolerant to public transport but I'm realising throughout this year long jaunt that I can go with the flow for about 5 hours but anything beyond that I start getting cranky. By 8pm, I was well and truly over sitting on a bus and there was no Kamel Koc in sight. It was in fairness, a pretty drive of coastline between Kas and Antalya and then up into the mountainous towns near Konya. Being closely linked with the whirling dervish sect of Islam, it is home to some devout Muslims and very few western tourists. The feeling in Konya was palpable-a lot of intense gazing and few smiles and the jets screaming overhead the next morning was unsettling. Whilst not close to Syria, it reminded us that Konya was much further east than we'd been thus far. Konya was seeing a far share of local tourism and we quickly spotted some women from the east, possibly Kurds who were wearing

traditional clothing. Covered to fingers and toes, their hijab was purple and their clothes richly brocaded in a heavy crushed velvet. Many of the elderly women had what looked like Maori mokos, tattooed chins, necks, faces and hands. Consisting of triangles and simple motifs, they'd aged to a bluish colour and Anyur explained that their husbands had tattooed them on 'special' occasions like anniversaries. I'd like another diamond thanks Tone. That, or a glass of champagne. They also liked to push, shoving their way through no matter what with a swift knuckle in your kidneys. I once again held the group up as I learnt the hard way that their needs came before mine so I waited patiently for them all to pass. I do like my kidneys. Such a difference to the rest of the kind generous Turkish people we'd met. Konya's museum was amazing and had a substantial collection of Rumi's (Mevlana) Korans, clothing, personal items as well as his tomb. It was full of explanations about the different aspects of whirling complete with mannequins of daily life for the young whirlers beginning their quest towards enlightenment. We also visited a young

lady recently graduated from art school who had dedicated herself to the art of felting. Showing us how the whirling dervishes hats are made, her shop was filled with delicious handmade felted items. I was in love! If only I could have a studio like that one day, filled with coloured wool just waiting to be shape and created.
Moving on to Cappadocia, our base was Göreme, a little town filled with fairy chimneys carved into rock by centuries of erosion from the wind and the rain. Writing about them doesn't do justice, nor does the photos I've taken, as they were truly magical. I adored them and wished I could live in one, maybe with one of the many roaming pussycats and that felting business I'd seen in

Konya. Kate? Tam? Come on! I've found our business!
Along the way, we stopped off to visit an underground city that had been happened upon by a wandering chook. I guess she fell down what looked like a well and started clucking but her sudden shock and surprise wouldn't have matched what the locals felt when they discovered that a whole city was 90 meters below them, big enough to house 20,000 hiding Christians. Stooping down low and smelling the cold damp cavernous air, we slowly and quietly walked deep down into the earth. The residents had carved out air vents, schools, churches and traps living underground for months and years. Whilst uncomfortable for many due to its narrow passage ways, steep stairs and dank air, it is a testament to human initiative and unrelenting perseverance to survive. Driving into the Cappadocia region, we began to see the magical landscape unfold. Kilometres of creamy white and tan towers stood proudly beside each other with hollowed out windows and doors for both people and pigeons. Collecting their poo for

fertiliser for crops, their once important agriculture has been replaced with lucrative tourism. The main thing to do in Cappadocia is a hot air balloon ride and costing nearly €200 per person and each balloon taking 20 people and 120 balloons in the air each session, I'd stop backbreaking farming too. Having already flown in a balloon before, Tony and I declined but for the rest of our group, this was the highlight of their trip in Turkey. It must have been truly spectacular to see the sunrise over such incredible landscapes and their photos were stunning.
We had two nights here and once we arrived, headed off to a local family's home for a feast of traditional Turkish fare. Our host was a sparkly

eyed Mumma with her two teenage daughters who kindly showed us her home carved into the rock. Part cave part addition, her fusion of a home had the best of modern technology and innovation combined with the ancient benefits of heating and cooling from living in the earth. Little bookcases were dug out of her walls and her large living room was filled with Turkish rugs. Passed down through hundreds of years and generations, all she needed to do was dig into the mountain to gain a larger kitchen. Maybe I should try that in Epping....
The next day we did another amazing trek, this time through the Rose Valley in the Cappadocian National Park. Walking below the towering chimneys carved with doors and tiny windows for the pigeons was humbling, I've never seen a

landscape like it before. Early Christians used to hideout here and we climbed up into an old ruin with a tiny seated area for a congregation and a crumbling image of Mary remaining on the ancient walls. We had our farewell dinner here as Amelia's partner had finally arrived in Istanbul and desperate to be with the now Father to be, she understandably wanted to fly back to meet him. Bruce her dad along with Sheryl and Peter were leaving us in Ankora and I would have dearly liked to have skipped another 6 hour bus ride for a $50 hour long flight.....dinner was at a posh restaurant which was a 300 year old family home turned business. Tucked away in an upstairs room, we feasted on pottery kebabs which were meals baked in clay containers. Part of the experience was to knock the top off the pot with a hammer, releasing the delicious steamy contents. I eagerly gave our pot a good whack and shared the meal with Tone, along with a few glasses of locally made Cappadocian wine. After our wine, Tone and I thought it was a good idea to drink even more with our leader Aynur and Steph, the 24 year old stunner. With energy and age on her side, we danced and drank up a storm leaving us with a bleary head the next day whilst she was up at 7am doing her fitness regime and walking into the local market. Even our leader felt fine so we've promptly sworn off alcohol and have begun to realise our age. 29. It was a wonderful night and we had such a cracker of a time, it's such a shame though as we had grand plans to discover more of the divine fairy castles. We shall have to be content with the dedication and appreciation we showed the locals in the making of their wines instead. And a trip to their local market to stock up on fruit. We did have a lovely reminder of how generous and hospitable the Turkish people are though that morning. Staying in bed for as long as we could, moaning about how our head ached and unable even to get water to soothe our parched throats, we dragged ourselves down to breakfast at 9:45 proud of our efforts to get there before they shut at 10am. To our utter dismay, the whole restaurant was empty and all semblance of breakfast had vanished. Seeing us enter, a man looked at us surprised, and our sad faces must have made him realise our predicament. Another lady came in and we asked her if there was any left over bread or tea we could grab and after what sounded like a big disagreement, she came out with not only bread and tea, but yellow cheese, feta cheese. Olives, tomatoes, cucumber and a freshly cooked omelette full of mixed cheese. We were so touched however considering I had contemplated vomiting only minutes before, we didn't want it. Being the polite and appreciative travellers we were though, we ate nearly every last morsel to show our gratitude. We wouldn't be needing a lunch stop on our local bus trip, that's for sure. Arriving late in Ankara, we soon saw it was a bustling city and with another early bus trip back to Istanbul the next morning, we settled into our lovely hotel and enjoyed a nice deep bath. Ahhh, the small things when travelling!