Day 256: Fairy Chimneys

There are a lot of independent walking trails around Goreme (and I’m sure in other parts of Cappadocia as well) to see as many fairy chimneys as you want. We set off early in the afternoon to be one with nature. Not many others seemed to be taking the trails less traveled and for the majority of the afternoon it was just me, Andrew, and the fairy chimneys.

I had left my tripod behind, but piled up our jackets on top of my backpack to set up the self timer for some shots of us sitting on the ridge overlooking the penises, I mean, fairy chimneys. We sat for awhile enjoying the weather and the solitude. I swapped out lenses to get some close ups, can you imagine living at the top of one of these things?

Aside from the towering chimneys, I was also quite taken with the pretty wild flowers. Andrew scolded me for taking pictures of weeds, but I thought they were pretty and deserved a little attention.

Day 255: Göreme Open Air Museum

The Göreme Open Air Museum is only a fifteen minute walk outside of the heart of Göreme, where we were staying. Göreme, is a small town in an area of Turkey known as Cappadocia. Göreme is located among the “fairy chimneys” as well as the Open Air Museum. Göreme Valley was designated as the center of tourism in Cappadocia and while the town doesn’t necessarily reflect that (in my opinion) the vast quantities of tour buses driving through do. The town continued to be on the sleepy side the entire three days we were there, but then as soon as we got to the Open Air Museum, we were faced with a parking lot full of tour buses and large groups lining up to see the ancient rock churches and houses.

“So… what was this place?” I quizzed Andrew as we walked past several formations before we even set foot in the Open Air Museum. He shrugged, and we hoped there would be more information within the museum walls. Somehow. Even though it was ‘open air.’ Before we reached the designated museum, we noticed a line outside of one of the formations. The line was for the Buckle (also known as the Tokali) Church. There was a lot of information about what was painted where within the church, but not a lot of information on who worshipped there. Christians, obviously, but that was pretty much all of the information that was shared on the plaques outside of the entrance. Also, photos were prohibited. I’m not entirely sure why, but because I’m rebellious, I snapped a few anyway. (I didn’t use my flash, which is what I think they were really trying to prohibit) The frescoes were simply too beautiful not to share.

Here’s what I know: Göreme was settled when Christianity was the religion of choice in the region. These churches were cut out of the rock formations sometime between the 10th and 12th centuries. Most of them feature some frescoes ranging from crude cave-like painting to elaborate multi-colored depictions of biblical stories. Again, not a lot of photography was allowed within the churches.

Because not a lot of photography was allowed inside the churches, I tried to make up for it outside. I made Andrew participate:

“Ok… now act like it’s caving in on you!”

“Ok, now, there’s a DRAGON behind you! What are you going to do?!”

“I’m done.” Andrew declared, walking out of my frame. He grabbed my camera (his has become a bit of a waste of space with a broken battery charger) and we traded it back and forth for the rest of the afternoon.

After the Open Air Museum, and instead of walking along the road back to Göreme, we decided to go exploring. There were a few paths, so we thought we’d see where they led.

This part was actually a little scary. The path kind stopped right at this rock ridge. It was a fairly narrow ridge as well, with steep slopes, one side falling off down into a canyon with more formations on the other side. Fortunately, it wasn’t terribly long and then we could slide down on all fours to a wider berth to walk back down to the road. Before we made our way back down though, I set my camera in a nook and hit the timer. We weren’t even sure if I was in the shot, let alone in focus, but they turned out well!

Our view back down to the road was pretty spectacular, and we were all alone. I liked walking around outside of the Open Air Museum more than inside with all of the tour groups traipsing around. It was quiet and amusing that we were the only ones exploring on the other side of the road as we could see the many, many tour buses driving past. Sometimes I wish we were in a group, for the simplicity of it all. This was not one of those times.

This amulet that is so popular in Turkey thought to protect you from the evil eye is called a “nazar.” You know, for your next trivia night, I got you covered.

Day 232: Knysna

We woke up to a lovely breakfast spread and then jumped in the car to get our tire checked out at the local mechanic. After the tire was checked out, we were told the inside rim was bent. He would pound it out for us. I shook my fist at “First Car Rental” and vowed that next time I rent a car and am told “It won’t be a problem at all” I will get a written statement with a signature. Because, what if something happened?!

After our car was good to go, we went for a drive around town. We started with a lookout point that gave different views of the city, the lagoon, and the ocean below, drove through an area of fancy vacation houses and then walked around downtown. We slipped in a few thrift stores. We tasted oysters (Andrew’s first time). And we picked up some meat for the brai (South African for barbeque) at our hostel that night.

Driving into Knysna we passed a rather extensive shanty town just outside of the city. Driving through the town to look at the fancy mansions or just smaller houses along the water reenforced our perceptions that there is a continued racial divide in South Africa. The shanty houses we drove past were minimal. stacked on top of each other. cringe-worthy. Not ten (I’m guessing here) miles away were huge houses that were seemingly empty. Vacation houses, Andrew suggested. None of them even looked lived in. A few maids (black people, in uniform, of course) were seen beating dust out of a rug or taking out the trash, but it was apparent that only white people lived here.

When we walked through town, a few people stopped to ask us for money. Andrew and I have tried to avoid handing out money. If we gave everyone something, we wouldn’t be able to continue this trip. That’s why we’ve tried to volunteer along the way, or give back in a other ways. It’s not always easy. I’ve caved and bought something from a child (or remember my five minute massage?). Andrew has given some small change here and there… It has affected us differently and at different times.

Whenever someone would stop us here in Knysna, they would hone in on Andrew. I’m not sure why. Sometimes they go for me. Sometimes they go for him. Usually, we try to be as polite as we can while not slowing down. As soon as you stop, it can be so much harder to get away. We don’t always know when it’s a scam or not either. Quite simply, it can be a toss up.

Today, a man came up to us a few blocks away from the grocery store we just visited and said something very softly to Andrew. The man practically ignored me, not in a rude way, more like one man talking to another man. I kept walking, figuring Andrew would eventually get away and catch up. I waited around the corner. and waited. and waited. Eventually, Andrew caught up and told me he needed to go back to the store for more bread.

“Is that all you gave him?” I asked slightly surprised that he gave him some of our dinner, yet also slightly surprised that all he gave him was our bread. We wanted to get so much more from the store- more vegetables, more cheese, some Nandos sauce, some ice-cream- but decided we didn’t NEED any of it, and in the spirit of trying to get our budget back down, we walked away from everything extra we wanted. Andrew looked a little shook up, but I didn’t press it, and we stopped in another store to pick up a cheap bottle of wine to go with dinner.

Which again, felt a little wrong. Andrew had just given away some bread to a man who clearly (unless it was indeed a scam) needed it. And we were still able to walk into a store and get a $4.00 bottle of wine. While we were in there we overheard a white South African girl calling friends asking what they were going to drink that night, asking if she should get more bottles or not. She circled the store, spotting her uncle’s label of wine and then complained (loudly) how expensive it was. Then with her two friends in tow, she ponied up to the counter, talking (still way too loudly) on her phone the entire time about their plans for that evening, and then walked out with two boxes of various wines. I could tell Andrew was uncomfortable. I could see it written on his face how bad he felt having talked to the man on the street, having only given away some bread, buying some drinks for himself, and then having to listen to a young, rich, white, South African girl unintentionally advertise how wealthy she was in comparison to the older, poor, black man outside.

We walked back to the hostel. Andrew told me the man had come on a boat from the Sudan and he was trying to find other Sudanese people that he knew about in Knysna, but all of the truck drivers were asking him for 100 Rand (basically $10.00) and he didn’t have any money. He said he hadn’t eaten in two days and he couldn’t find any ‘familia’ around to help him. Andrew said that the man was in tears, he looked really scared. His voice started shaking and Andrew could tell he was trying not to cry, but he couldn’t help it. Andrew admitted that it could have been a scam, but if it was it was a damn good one. He had never seen someone look so scared and helpless before. I could tell Andrew was conflicted, wondering if he should have given the man more or if he should be satisfied for what he did give him or what if it WAS a scam…

Tired from a restless (slightly sleepless) night in the hostel, I had planned to take a nap. Andrew paced back and forth, clearly still upset as he thought about the man on the street.

“Do you want to lay down with me?” I asked, knowing that would make me feel better if I was him as I climbed into my bottom bunk that I couldn’t even sit up in. He nodded and climbed in after me. We’ve gotten remarkably good at squeezing into these bunks that are entirely too small for two, let alone when one of us is so tall. I wrapped my arms around him and fell asleep. I woke up to him still in my bunk looking at his computer, telling me he was going to run back to the store for more bread. When he returned, I asked if he saw the man on the street again. He didn’t, and perked up over a beer and a brai that night.