Cotton and Turquoise

I spent today my most favorite way: bathing in a series of seven turquoise pools set against walls of white calcium, giving myself facial and body mud masks. And I would have never known this is my favorite way to spend the day if I hadn't come to Pamukkale.

Actually, the very best part of the day was when I asked a girl to take this picture of me and then I returned the favor for her and her mom - and we ended up spending the next five hours together. Khadijah and Jamilia are Pakistanis living in North Carolina. Khadijah is in med school at Duke and Jamilia is a family practitioner. Nicest people in the world - and pretty smart, too. Here we are at the end of the day, hoping to make ourselves look ten years younger with the magic mud of "Cotton Mountain" - what the name of the town means:

Our favorite spot was this ravine... when you sit in it, it's like sitting in the ultimate hot tub with jets. Here is Jamilia (they didn't bring suits, but couldn't resist getting in, clothes and all):

I know it looks dirty, but the color on the sides is actually red - all minerals. Here is another view of the ravine:

After a while, a bunch of people joined us in our "hot tub" - and it was one of those moments where everyone was talking about where they were from, etc, etc, - a great travel moment. They all gave us credit for the "hot tub idea." So Khadijah and I took it further. We knew that UNESCO had saved these terraced pools after they were almost ruined by tourists (they turned all muddy), so we thought we would make a few more suggestions for UNESCO to consider:

1) Get rid of all the people. My pictures do not do the crowds justice.
2) Place some umbrellas over the pools. It was too hot!
3) Get some servers to provide drinks and food. Like Margaritas. Or, just water. I kept thinking of one of my favorite childhood books - The Hat Book (produced by Dr. Seuss). My favorite hat was the one that had a water faucet on top. Perfect. I was thirsty all day. Probably because we took a break from the pools and hiked up to this Greek amphitheater, built in the 100's:

Here's one more view of my all-time favorite terraced turquoise pools, but my pictures just can't do it justice:

So happy I didn't do a tour today and met these two - when our bus got into town this morning, it was high pressure to take a $40 tour, I was very firm when I said, "I just want the pools today." The three of us are going to meet in Istanbul when I get back so that I can "show them around" my city - they were only there two days before taking this side trip. And tomorrow I will take an eight hour tour of Ephesus, which I hear is absolutely stunning as far as ancient ruins go (the Temple of Artemis is one of the seven wonders of the ancient world). Mom, wish you were here!!

Oh, and I had mixed shish kabob with a side of roasted eggplant for dinner. I really like this town, called Selcuk...

Fairy Chimneys, Underground Cities and Monk Cave Mansions

 

 

Welcome to Fairy Chimney Land.
And from "Imagination Land" - what animals do you see in the following pictures?

 

 

All of the above pictures are from my Day One tour of the Cappadocia Region. My mind has now officially exploded with historical information. That is what I get for coming to the birthplace of humanity. Only an hour before I leave for my next destination, so I can't go into all of the history and geology, but I would bore you anyway. Look it up. But I will say that during these last two days, I have had excellent tours and excellent guides. And listen to the mixture of who I hung out with: an Indian -born couple who call New Zealand home and who are working in Dubai, a Brazilian man who works for a German car company and his parents, who are here visiting. His father is Brazilian and his mother is Japanese.  Really sweet family. Court, the father, is 85 and he went on every single outing, including the 3.5 mile "trek" next to a beautiful river (took 400 steps down to get to the trekking part). Here are Court and Lydea:

 

 

 

And here is Omar, in the underground city that was built by the Christians in the 8th Century to hide from all of their attackers. Most amazing thing we saw, and we saw A LOT - each day's tour was over eight hours. Julie, your mind would have also exploded with the history and I would have appreciated the mutual explosion. Anyway, Omar is on the "punishment wall":

 

 

We saw 1/10th of this city, which could hold over 2,000 people completely underground for six months at a time. Absolutely incredible.

 

We also saw a monk's cave mansion- the picture below the mansion is the monk's cathedral within one of those cave openings:

 

 

We also hung out at this platform on the beautiful river where we hiked:

 

And - have two eggplant dishes to report on: an "eggplant salad" that is very much like my "forgetaoubit" eggplant dip: roasted eggplant and tomatoes, onions instead of garlic, parsley instead of basil. Red pepper. But the picture didn't turn out. Tonight I went with the classic eggplant stuffed with mincemeat. I went up to Sunset Hill again last night, and the same request was made for my picture by a Middle Eastern man. But this time, his friend took my picture, too. At least I know where to go to meet Middle Eastern Men. Or I could just walk down the street. Geez.  

 

 

 

 

Ok, that's all I've got for now. Goodnight everyone, I am getting on ANOTHER night bus. But this one is going to be amazing.

My Beautiful Balloon

This sunrise journey over the moonscape of Cappadocia was well worth the $120 and the 4 am wake-up call.

My nine new Korean friends and I had the best pilot, too. He went higher than any other balloon pilot, and went deep into ravines and barely missed jagged cliffs. I think the word "awesome" is allowed for this event~

I'm going to leave it at these pictures for tonight. Had a great day - was adopted by a Brazilian family and spent Cappadocia Tour Day Part One with them. I have to sort through millions of crazy moonscape pictures in order to figure out which ones to share, and then add to that Part Two, so I will get to that tomorrow.

Oh, and - way to be pushy about the carpet. It is now mine. I only bought it, though, because Linda Fitzgerald told me to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arrival on Planet Goreme

View of Rose Valley from "Sunset Hill" in Goreme (a small town in Cappadocia):

Wow this is a weird place. Here I am looking down over the town of Bedrock (enlarge this if you can, it's worth seeing up close):













By the way, what is a pansion?

 

Everything claims to be "cave" here. My hotel is called "The Ottoman Cave Suites" and there is not one cave on the premises. It's nice, though, luxury.

 

 

Here is a cave house with cave parking:

 



 

I am recovering from a dark night of the soul. I wasn't going to write tonight because it was going to involve a lot of whining and I wanted some distance from it. But things change quickly, and the day turned out okay, and now I even have rug fever, but I will get to that.

 

The bad part, summarized for less painful reading:

 

All-night bus, screaming infant right behind me (those seats remained empty until the very last stop before hitting the highway, then the family climbed aboard and I knew what my night would be), only two bathroom breaks for an eleven hour journey (Casey, I know it's no problem for you, I know...), being scolded by a toilet attendant for not paying my one Lira fee after offering it to him on toilet entry and him refusing it, only movies dubbed in Turkish (500 Days of Summer - the other time I saw it was a bad copy in Vietnam). I'm the only person without a pickup from my hotel at the bus station and must walk a ways to get there. "Check in at noon," he says to me, and I hold back tears. It is 8:30. He gets me a room after some discussion. A really hot day and me agreeing to an ATV touristy crap outing. Ugh.

 

The change began with this: 

 

 



 

Yes, it is Korean noodle soup with vegetables and an egg. I can't quite comprehend why Russians go to Mui Ne, Vietnam or why Koreans come to Cappadocia, but that is the law. Tons of Koreans here. So I have my really bad attitude and I'm walking into town for dinner thinking 1) I will NEVER travel outside of the US again, ok maybe Canada to see Katherine, but that's ALL 2) OK, if I ever DO travel outside of the US again, it will only be in first class style, and 3) I am sick of this country AND eggplant. When all of a sudden I come across this noodle shop. A Turkish man is working three raised burners and Korean noodles are displayed in the window with only Korean characters on the wall. As I look inside, three noodle eaters finish their meals and ask if the Turkish noodle master will pose with them. They each hold a package of their noodles and give the "thumbs up" sign for the camera and tell the man that he made them "perfect."

 

Of course I had to try them. "Can I see a menu?" I ask.

 

He shrugs. "This is it. Noodles, vegetables. egg. They like it."

 

I ordered a bowl, and they actually were perfect. Two Australian girls walked past and said, "Wow, those look really good," which led to them inviting me up the hill to watch the famous sunset, which is captured in the first picture.

 

I stayed with them for a while, then wandered down a trail by myself. This is where the weirdest thing yet happened to me...a pair of guys stopped me and said, "Hello, can we take a picture with you?"

 

Surprised, I said, "Why?"

 

"We are from Iraq and we just want your picture!" says one of them, and they all laugh, embarrassed. So I posed with one, then the other. Then another pair, whom I suppose were their friends, also got in on the picture-taking. Then two more. Now there are six pictures of me with Iraqi men circulating. I'm not sure what to do about it.

 

But it was a spectacular view, and suddenly, I let up on my previous three decisions a little. Later, I walked through Weird Town and found a carpet guy I really liked. His shop was kind of up the street, not gaudy or anything. He "fixed" carpets for a living and seemed pretty cool. So, I fell in love with this carpet and want to know what you think. It's 60 years old, from this area. All hand-dyed. I have until tomorrow to decide, and it can be shipped home:

 

Am I

Turkey crazy? Have they finally gotten to me? Or is it really, really beautiful?

 

Off to bed. Getting up at 4 am to go up in a hot air balloon for sunrise. Another touristy thing, but this will probably not be crap.

 

No eggplant, but admit it - you enjoyed the Korean soup surprise, too

The Tortoise Trainer

"The Tortoise Trainer" - Osman Hamdi Bey at the Pera Museum.































And had "Mousakka" - or "Lazy Man's Mousakka" - I think I like the kind with béchamel better... I got it at a stupid tourist place, so I need to give it another try at "Big Turkish Mama's" restaurant.

Getting on the bus tonight to Cappadocia, will update again from there~

Holy Cemeteries and City Symphonies

 

 

Welcome to the best view of Istanbul, from Pierre Loti Hill. This is the Golden Horn looking one way,




and this is the old city in the (way) background looking the other way, from the side of the hill that is the biggest cemetery I have ever seen:






Jessica, when my German host, Marcel, suggested I go to see this cemetery with an amazing view up above the fourth most holy mosque in the Muslim world (it was not mentioned in my Lonely Planet), I had to do it in your honor (Jessica is obsessed with graveyards and her obsession paid off in a big way while we were in Central Vietnam.)

Here you can see how well these plots are attended - many have rose gardens and yellow marigolds. This "Cemetery of the Great Eyup" is where many famous Ottomans are buried - and scores of people were here today because of Ramadan, which ends this weekend. I would say about one out of twenty were tourists - the rest here as pilgrims to a holy place at a holy time. Very humbling.




Here is a view of the cemetery from the tram - which I did not find on the way UP the hill (in 95 degree heat), but of course I found it for the way DOWN... but a very nice guy named "John" helped me climb up some extremely steep stairs to find the view. Pierre Loti was a French naval officer and poet/writer who fell in love with Istanbul - and this view - in the 1870's. It is from the viewpoint of the top picture that he wrote one of his most famous novels.

 

Here are some very different grave markers that are next to the Eyup Mosque at the bottom of the stairs:

The mosque and a close-up of the tiling on the outer wall:

 

 

I arrived during the call to prayer - it seems that women were segregated to this outside area, and the men were either inside or right outside in a covered structure filled with prayer carpets. It was there that I saw the man behind the curtain... the man with the microphone singing the call to prayer. I felt like I was seeing The Wizard of Oz. Below, I captured the "Mosque Cat" on camera. Every mosque has one of these scrawny little things sleeping away on marble.

 

 

 Getting anywhere that isn't a major tourist attraction is always interesting. Marcel had written everything down for me, and Eyup was outside the area of my map of Istanbul. It involved catching a local ferry and getting off at the fourth ferry stop. Doesn't sound too difficult, right? Well, I got to the ferry and approached the ticket booth and it went something like this:

 

Me: "Ticket to Eyup?"

 

Five Turkish ferry operators: "YELLING LOUDLY YELLING LOUDLY YELLING LOUDLY!"

 

One runs to find someone who speaks English and he comes running: "Ferry to Eyup one hour. You go Eminuno, take bus."

 

Me: "I wait for one hour."

 

Six Turkish ferry operators: "YELLING LOUDLY YELLING LOUDLY YELLING LOUDLY!"

 

English: "Okay."

 

I start to walk away to find something to do for an hour.

 

STFO: "YELLING LOUDLY YELLING LOUDLY!"

 

English: "Lady! Ferry at 1:00. Forty minutes!"

 

Okay then. A lot of yelling and trying to force a bus ride on me, when the Eyup ferry was on its way.

 

At 12:55, I am back to catch the Eyup ferry with a mass of people. I begin to board the ferry.

 

STFO: "YELLING LOUDLY!"

 

English: "Lady! No! Eyup ferry five minutes." He points to the water. "There!" And fifty Muslim passengers turn to look at me as I swim back against the boarding swarm.

 

So it took a village. When I returned a few hours later, I took a moment to go over to the STFO's and give them a "thumbs up a thank you." They all nodded and gave me a thumbs-up back.

 

 

Before this journey, I returned to the Durumzade place for an early lunch - the Anthony Bordain-endorsed wrap joint from my Culinary Backstreets tour. I ordered the lamb this time; here he is making my sandwich:

You can see the lamb on the skewer cooking over the coals, but what makes this sandwich extra special is that every so often, he takes the lamb off the coals and wipes the grease on the durum wrap. Great technique~

He's almost done with my sandwich when a girl comes in carrying luggage, sweating worse than I am.

She says to me, "I have to get one more for the road. I'm catching my plane home today."

She had only been here four days, and this would be her third visit to Durumzade. She had been traveling through Europe - three days in Italy, three in Greece, three in Amsterdam. "Next time, I'm going to slow it down a lot," she says, and I can relate. I have slowed it down A LOT. Possibly TOO MUCH. Anti-Amazing Race style, which is my least favorite TV show EVER. It gives me so much anxiety, all those people racing through places that they don't get to enjoy even for a moment...

As we chat, an idea occurs to her. "My friend would absolutely love one of these. I should bring one home to him."

I recognize a kindred spirit when I meet one. I have had similar irrational thoughts on many occasions - hey, I would love to bring one of these home to my dad. I did bring him a Pork Chop John's sandwich from Butte once, but that was only a two hour flight. "You say you're from New York?" I clarify (learned it from the best) and she deflates a little and says, "Yeah, it would be pretty bad when it got to him, wouldn't it? I have a four-hour layover in London, too."

"Unless you have a cooler..." I sympathize.

But she got over it because of the excitement of eating her sandwich at the airport, while everyone else ate airport food.

After the holy visit to Eyup. I went to try a famous roasted eggplant topped with mince meat - at a restaurant very close to my amazing artist's apartment. Here it is:



 

Really simple, really good. I need to start roasting eggplant more. Then, hours and a long nap later, I journeyed out to the Chiangir district to eat at the restaurant where Marcel works. He told me that their chef was Pakistani and cooked with Hindi spices and strongly suggested I try it. He's been spot on with all of his recommendations, so I obeyed. It was fantastic - a curry chicken with rice and yogurt sauce, with flatbread.

 

As I walked home from dinner, I crossed a bridge with a view of the old city across the Bosphorus and the "newer" city behind. It was 10:15 and the call to prayer sounded, but this time I could hear up to eight calls to prayer simultaneously. I had to stop on the bridge and soak in the sounds that surrounded me on every side - a multi-mosque symphony over one of the most beautiful cities on earth on the night before the last day of Ramadan.

 

Not a bad day - not at all.

Back to EOTD, If It's OK With You

I realize this isn't a really pretty picture, but the restaurant was in a back alley and it was so dark I had to use flash and bother everyone around me in order to report on EOTD (Eggplant of the Day).

Pam, you were the only one to call me on my eggplant-less entry yesterday and yes, it's true: I did not eat eggplant yesterday. Did you SEE how much I ate? When I got to the end of the day without naturally, organically occurring eggplant, I just didn't have it in me to pursue it. Not even eggplant water. So I'm not sure what that means for the blog - is it done? Finished? Am I going to lose all of my followers? Will "Eggplant Every Day (Except One)" be OK?

Well, while the jury is out on whether I may continue despite a failed goal, let me describe the best eggplant dish yet - that of the very poor picture above. I was walking in the best part of the artist district looking for dinner when I stumbled upon this back alley Turkish restaurant. Another Big Turkish Mama greeted me, but instead of saying, "Take off your clothes!" this one said, "We make everything home cooked."

And she had me. Oh my. Let me describe what is in the picture: eggplant roasted over the fire and then mashed and topped with the best kofta meatballs yet, topped with Turkish yogurt, which is so far and above any yogurt on our entire continent that I feel sad just thinking about it. The red sprinkles is a spice called Sumak. And the tomato sauce is homemade, and parsley graces the whole thing. I want to go back for this every night. Eggplant moussaka is also on the menu, so I might have to try that.

When I was alone on the island of Penang for a few days (Malaysia), I was around possibly the second-best food of my life. Well, wait, that is a really bold statement. Clarification: my Vietnam neighborhood is the hands-down first place winner, and Penang, with its diversity of Indian, Chinese, Malay and Thai, well, it was heaven. The only problem was that there wasn't a whole lot to do in Penang, so I struggled to entertain myself between the eating extravaganza that took place every three hours.

(Hold on, I should clarify that none of this contest talk factors in my mom's cooking.)

Istanbul does not present that problem. Today I spent four hours at the Istanbul Modern Museum, and it was one of the most moving museum experiences of my life. I don't think I have spent more than two hours at a museum, ever. And the only reason I left today was because of my stomach.

Here are a few visual highlights:

It's called "Smoke" and it's a woven tapestry.












This one is called "Shopping" and it's made from designer name brand tags.

The part of the museum that took up most of my time, though, was a temporary exhibit that focused on video, music and sound. One installment had four videos playing simultaneously of women talking about their views on the head scarf. One was a cancer patient who had lost her hair, one was a transvestite, etc.

But the installment that stole it for me was based on Jeff Buckley's rendition of Leonard Cohen's song "Hallelujah." Actually, I hate to call it a rendition because not one of the 300 others who have covered that song should have done so. I mean he DIED after he sang it, and it is so beautiful and tragic and everything else all at once. How can The Voice or American Idol contestants even think of doing it?  So this exhibit was a video of an older Muslim woman wearing a head scarf, standing in front of ruins of a modern apartment complex in Ankara (the capital), kind of doing a karaoke to this song. Weird, right? But it worked as a commentary on a country caught between modernization and the traditional way of life. A Muslim woman singing a "Christian" phrase in this song. I watched it three times.

Now, about feeding myself after the museum completely wore me out: During my Culinary Backstreets tour - which I am appreciating more every day - Senem had pointed to a restaurant and said, "That one isn't on the tour, but try it!' So that is where I headed, and she was so right. I had this big, beautiful salad, which is in front of something called lahmacun. It's kind of like pizza, I guess, without cheese. Inside the wood oven-fired wrap is minced veal and onions, then you put the parsley and sumak-covered onions inside, squeeze the whole thing with lemon and roll it up. Delicious.

I will leave you with one last picture, of the monument in Taksim Square. I was pretty certain that Florida would be nowhere near here, and that comforted me. One of the film installations at the museum showed many events of historical significance at this monument. Oh, and much demonstrating against the invasion of Gaza here (in Istanbul, not at this monument), not so much protests or riots, but every so often you will hear a group yelling, and it's usually something anti-Israel.

Wait, no, for the sake of contrast, I'm going to leave you with the only Catholic church I have seen yet: it's on the street I told you about yesterday, Istiklal:

And, what about the eggplant problem?