Cappadocia.
"The Land of Beautiful Horses"

First off, I haven't seen any horses yet, so I don't understand how this area of central Anatolia got its name.

If I was naming it way back when, I probably would have gone with "The Land God Made When He Was Bored At The Beach." It honestly looks like somebody dug a hole in the sand, hit water, grabbed about 50,000 huge handfuls of the gooey stuff and just threw them haphazardly all over the place.


The coolest thing about these rock formations, which were actually made about three bagillion years ago after a series of volcanic eruptions, is that people saw them and thought, "Looks like a good place to live, what do you think?"

And then they started to dig, until the area had more apartment complexes (though all made of rock) than an American college town.

Cappadocia is The Flintstones' neighborhood, brought to life.

Between a rock and a hard on -- I think they call this part of Cappadocia "Fertility Valley" for a reason.

If this was America, the snow-covered wagon would be just for show. But in Turkey, they actually have roadside signs that explicitly forbid villagers from taking these types of vehicles onto a four-lane highway. (And I've seen people disobey).

People here used to rely on pottery-making and stock-breeding for survival. Now, they rely on good ole' tourism!

After Fred and Wilma moved out, but before the first roadside t-shirt shack was ever opened -- actually, before the first nomadic Turk even arrived from Central Asia less than a thousand years ago -- there was a large Christian community that lived in Cappadocia's caves.

Of course, they weren't very social. Hermits, monks, the works. Basically, the kinds of people who like to live in caves, and wear hair shirts, and all that jazz.

Included in that jazz was painting pictures of some chick saint who prayed that God make her less attractive to the opposite sex, so that she would not have to deal with distractions of the flesh.

St. Herm

She got her wish.

(Although, I still think I've seen Bosnian and Serbian women, in the present day, who have more facial hair than that).

And of course, an ancient Christian community wouldn't be ancient Christian community without a shot of St. George, slaying the dragon, again.

This poor dragon has been killed, and killed, and killed so many times, I almost feel bad for him.

And my personal favorite, Constantine and his mother Helena, who miraculously found the true cross.

"I SWEAR this is the real thing, Constantine. Seriously. You've just gotta trust me on this one."

I see some cracks in that story.


The travel agent my dad used to book the trip he, Garland and my mom took to come visit me in Turkey said that Cappadocia was a no-go. "There's too much snow this time of year," and because of that, "you won't be able to get there."

I hope that woman doesn't get Employee of the Month.

Yeah, there's snow. But it ain't exactly what Colorado has been seeing this month. And as a result of that misstatement, The Bob and Garland missed out on one of the most beautiful spots on earth -- they flew home yesterday, and left my mother with me for another week.

But still, my mom and I had booked a flight to go to Sarajevo on the 5th, and here we are. The reason we were able to change course like that is simple: The giant silver spoon that was lodged into my mouth at birth.

It is very important to me that everyone get cleared up real quick on one thing: I am paying for this trip, with the money that I earned and saved. (I am quick to point out this fact to those who shake their heads at my descriptions of seven months on the road, and tell me how "lucky" I am that my parents are "letting me do this"). But it is also very important that everyone understand something else: Only big Bob has the kind of cash flow that could allow me to just decide to fly to Cappadocia, no questions asked, just because my mom really wanted to see it.

The Bob, who wanted to come here more than anyone in the family, made my mom promise that she wouldn't call him and say it was the best thing she's ever done. So she emailed, instead.

And while I wouldn't go so far as to say it is the best thing I've ever done (maybe if I was backpacking through these kinds of rock formations and sleeping in a tent, it would be), it has been pretty damn cool.


Thanks, Dad!


And if it makes you feel any better, Mom's back prevented her from going too deep into some of the caves, and from walking down some of the more slippery slopes. So you wouldn't have been able to see all of it.


This one's for you, Kath.

The Turkish Evil Eye. If you've been to Turkey, you know.