Slumming Fred Flintstone Style

The landscape of Southern Turkey
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Our journey into Turkey was the final frontier for our Middle Eastern adventure which meant we had one more border to cross and what a doozy it was. Arriving on the truck at 7am we eagerly left it stranded whilst we took opportunity to get some valuable duty-free. Stocked up on beer, rum and chocolate we arrived back to find the truck bound in by three lanes of Turkish trucks stretching for five miles. With no sign of an exit our bemused driver prepared us for the long haul before the authorities got involved. It appeared that the Syrian border guard made a huge stuff up and sent us to the wrong lane and what proceeded was a comedy of negotiation and diplomacy in which no Turkish truck drivers wanted to give an inch in the queue. Eventually some relented and the space left by the truck was consumed in a roar of diesel and clutches.

The Whirling Dervıshes spin their magic
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The beautiful Cappadoccia region was our base for the next few days. The valleys in the area are made of volcanic silt which has eroded to create quite phallic and interesting landforms. Also the early settlers created and dwelled in caves made in these pinnacles giving the area a Flintstones sort of feel. Funnily enough our home was to be the Flintstones hotel and we stayed in a cave jazzed up with some electricity and a window.

Our sightseeing took us around the area and into some underground cities which resembled a cross between a mine shaft and the land of Fraggle Rock. Apart from that we were given the opportunity to sample a traditional Turkish Night. The lure of all you can eat and free alcohol meant a healthy attendance and we boogied the night away once the female and male belly dancers had their way with the audience.

Goreme village
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The next day we were given the standard tourist trail a traditional Hittite pottery factory, a Cappadoccian winery and a Turkish carpet factory. Despite all the free food we could get rammed down our throats we couldn't relent to the salesmanship although the carpet man supplied my work back in New Zealand.

As we lunched on the final day we heard what sounded like a folly of backfires around the corner in the sleepy village of Goreme. Unfazed we tucked in and strolled back to the hotel where gossip was rife. The real home to the noise was of gunshots and a man in a car pulled up outside a nearby restaurant and gunned down his brother and his own wife who were taking part in a touch of adultery. Given most Turkish live by an honour code this wasn't a first for Turkey but it had the village of Goreme buzzing. A bit shaken at the news our group was quietly happy of our departure the next day.