Things started off poorly and ended poorly during my trip to Cappadocia, a large region in the center of Turkey. Everything in between was top notch. We walked up to the check-in counter at the airport. We were departing from Athens. I told the woman behind the counter that we were going to Cap-i-doe-she-a. Where? She wanted to know. She was a little older, maybe mid forties. And she was sexy, and in all the ways that I am not. She had heavy make up, black eyeliner smudging into the creases under the eyes. She had big hair and big tits. She wore long, fake eyelashes to match her long, fake nails. My husband responded with Cap-a-doe-key-ya.
She glanced between us, as if seeing us for the first time. Pointing to him she leaned in with a sugary sweet smile and purred, That’s right, Cap-i-doe-key-ya. I felt bewildered, left to simultaneously ponder what had caused to me pronounce Cappadocia with an sh sound and also why this mistake had empowered this woman to flirt with my husband in front of me. Regardless of her reasons and mine, the lesson I want you to take with you is the correct pronunciation to avoid similar potentially embarrassing and/or aggravating situations while you travel.
Cappadocia is known for many things, and everyone of them is wildly unique. This region features some of the most alien and beautiful landscapes that I have personally witnessed. If you stay there I cannot recommend enough choosing a cave hotel. There is an entire cottage industry that has sprung up around these unique dwellings. We stayed in a mid priced one called Divan Cave House Hotel, but you will be able to find tons of great ones online for every price range. We stayed in Göreme, one of the more popular towns in Cappadocia due to its proximity to the airport.
These hotels used to be houses that were carved from naturally formed rock spires, sometimes called “fairy chimneys”. Soft rock from volcanic activity in the region combine with strong winds, as well as water from the snow melt in the area created the unique erosion pattern. These formations were then converted into houses and churches by the local population starting thousands of years ago.
We booked transport from the airport through our hotel. I marveled as our driver as well as all the others on the road navigated the narrow sharp curves and steep grade up to our hotel in long black vans. No matter which far flung corner of the earth I manage to make my way to, I always find myself impressed and stressed by commercial drivers that navigate roadways seemingly the exact same size as the vehicle I am occupying.
We had precious little time to spend here so I booked a private tour to maximize it. There are three primary tour routes in Cappadocia that are color coded as Red, Green and Blue. Each one covers the main attractions in different areas of the region.
Red is a must, covering the sites in the central Geröme region. We chose this combination tour to make the most of our limited time. Our guide was very knowledgeable. If you have the luxury of more time, there are plenty of day and overnight hikes you can do in the region to properly appreciate the landscape. The highlights for me were the Göreme Open Air Museum, a former monastery, and Kaymakli underground city.
A popular thing to do that we opted out of is a hot air balloon ride. This is something that happens all year round. It turns out, hot air balloons need rather favorable weather conditions. So if you are going for several days, book this for the first day so that you have a buffer in case the ride is cancelled.
But we were at the end of a three week trip to three different countries and I didn’t have it in me to wake up at 4 am to squeeze this in before a full day tour starting at 9 am. We decided to sleep in until just before sunrise, then headed to the roof top of the hotel for the little photo shoot you see here. We got to see the balloons rise with the sun, and it was was of the most beautiful and unique sunrises I have experienced. Although to be honest the number of sunrises I have personally witnessed are limited. I am more of a sunset person in general.
After our full day combination tour, my husband and I decided we needed a vacation from our vacation. It sounds strange to say it, because it is so delicious. But I won’t lie to you, dear reader, to make myself look good. I’ll be honest. I was tired of Turkish food. Turkish food is remarkably similar to Greek food, as we found out. It is fresh and delicious, don’t get me wrong. But after almost three weeks straight, I needed a little spice in my life.
There were a surprising number of hot pot places in town, so we opted for one the looked authentic. We realized, almost immediately, that it was too authentic. The numbing sichuan caused me to tear up and desperately flag down our teenage waiter for a typical Turkish yogurt drink called ayran. My husband was having a similar experience next to me. The waiter laughed at me and shook his head to let me know that they absolutely did not have that. Any normal person would have at this point, stopped eating the dish and ordered something else that was not physically painful for them to eat.
But me and my man are just not those people. Unwilling to give up so easily, we powered through painful bite after painful bite until we had consumed the whole thing. No one was making us do this. But we didn’t even pause to discuss alternatives. We could have stopped what we were doing and ordering something we could actually enjoy, or at the very least something that did not cause us to physically suffer.
Like two people possessed, we continued eating. And at a pretty good clip no less. We stopped only to complain to one another about the level of spice or try to find some relief by chugging water, which was almost completely ineffectual. The only explanation I can offer for this behavior is that we chose to do it because we both grew up in households where wasting food was not an option.
After barely surviving dinner we decided we hadn’t yet done enough damage to ourselves so we went to a hookah bar specializing in gin & tonics. It’s important to note at this point in the story that my husband never picked up smoking. I don’t smoke anymore, but I was a moderate smoker for about 10 years. It’s a habit I picked up early and I loved it. I still miss it sometimes. I spent another solid 5 years after I quit, backsliding. But now I only indulge in the occasional hookah. And I do mean occasional. Maybe once a year, or even less. And always with a larger group. Given my husband’s baby lungs and my aversion to moderation, I carried the team the whole night.
I woke up early and in pain. When I say I was sick, it’s hard for me to impart just how sick I was. The fact that I made the plane is a miracle. My poor body was in shock with this awful combination of overly spicy food, gin of all things, and just way, way too much hookah. My head was pounding and I was so sick to my stomach. I was sitting down in the lines at the airport, as Raul carried my bag and watched me nervously. With his help I somehow managed to make it onto the plane and back to Istanbul for the final leg of our trip.
I would recommend a trip to Cappadocia to anyone. I would also recommend learning from my mistakes. Go for at least a week, know your own limits, and pronounce it Cap-i-doe-key-ya.
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