- October 27: Fresh off the plane from Prague I was pickpocketed in the Istanbul airport. Unbeknownst to me, my wallet hopped ship as I was riding the escalator down to the subway station. It wasn't until two stops later that I realized all my credit cards and far too much cash for me to have been carrying in one place were gone. Oi. Fortunately, I'd scanned all of Istanbul with my iTouch during the previous weeks for free wifi hotspots and knew the Best Western across from the Aya Sofya would be able to help me out. There, I was able to cancel my cards, send a few emails home, and afterwards begged the desk clerk to forgive most of the $100 phone bill I'd run up calling Chase and Visa.
- October 28: I flew to Rome on my Bill Bryson-inspired impulse trip to Italy. To my great surprise, my mom took me up my invitation to join me. We walked about 3,000 miles around Rome seeing and doing all the Rome things: Colosseum, Pantheon, Vatican, eating gelato.... After three days, we took the fast train to Florence where we spent two days and nights visiting The Duomo, Ponte Veccio, David, and the other tourist "Top Tens."
- November 3: Back to Istanbul. Carrying my wallet in my front pocket now.
- November 4: Brandon arrives! We meet at the airport and he surprises - nay, overwhelms -- me with the news that he'd sent an email out to the Camp Owatonna community about my pick pocketing experience. In four days, friends from all over the country had chipped in enough money to give to me to completely make up for the money lost in my wallet! I was stunned speechless. Talk about a family that cares.
- November 8: Istanbul is a dirty city crowded with cranky people and slimy carpet vendors (seriously guys, does it look I have a place to put a carpet in my backpack?). We decide to hop a night bus heading east to Cappadocia in central Turkey.
- November 8-11: Staying in the town of Goreme in the middle of the moonscape-like landscape that is Cappadocia. We take out ATVs on a tour of a couple of the valleys; rent scooters for the day and visit a few nearby villages; hire a car and driver with another Brazilian couple to take us on a day tour of the area; and become friends with several interesting other travelers.
While out on our day tour, we stopped in the Soganli Valley and ate lunch at a friendly, family-run pension. After, we walked the 1.5 mile loop that takes visitors by seven or eight 14th Century Byzantine churches carved into the valley walls and rock formations ("fairy chimneys" they're called). In one, we climbed up through an opening in the ceiling, up another level, and to the top floor of the rock-church. I was living out Fraggle Rock and couldn't have been more pleased.
While out on the scooters, we visited the small town of Mustafapasa, and old town which up until WWI was inhabited largely by Greeks. Now, the Greeks' remaining presence is in the architecture of the homes they left behind. As we walked the quiet streets, we meet Julie, a Californian with all the gregariousness of a Southern Bell. She was squatted down on the sidewalk eating pumpkin seeds with four other local Turkish women and invited us to join. As we munched on seeds and drank the tea the women brought out to us, Julie shared with us that she and her husband had purchased the hotel across the square (The Upper Greek House), spent the last two years expanding and fixing it up into a
boutique hotel, and now spend two months out of the year in Mustafapasa. She gave us a tour and showed us the secret underground rooms and tunnel they discovered after knocking down an old wall. They are still working on excavating the space but think the tunnel may run 3km to beneath a near-by mountain where there or may not be a lost underground city. To think, I get excited when I find lost change in my laundry bag.
Jack, Julie's husband, brought Brandon and I out to the field behind their place afterwards and showed us the underground church he'd discovered the previous week. While exploring another above-ground church, Jack said he'd seen an opening behind "that apricot tree over there" and when he looked closer he found a Byzantine church complete with ancient frescos and a looted grave that sits unknown to the tour groups.
Last night, we took the night bus to Antalya (ten hours) and then hopped another two busses to reach Olympos, this funky, hostel-laden little town in a valley moments away from 2nd Century ruins and the Mediterranean.
We're staying at the pension called "Bayrams" with about 5 other people (the hostel is a ghost town as it can house 200 guests). The property is filled with orange trees and for 22TL (~$15) a night we receive free breakfast, dinner, and Internet access.
Tonight, we'll make the 5km hike up to one of the surrounding mountains to see the Chimera, the natural gas flames that have been burning 24-7 on the hillside for a millennium.
Burn baby, burn.
Istanbul, Nymburk felt like a dream town, like a swab of deodorant on a hot day, like a place that with the addition a few snow-capped rooflines and a smattering of glowing lampposts would be inches away from being a real life Thomas Kinkade image. Historically, there‘s not much to write about but with its blackened and acid rain softened town center, medieval city walls and moats, cobblestone streets, and cafes, Nymburk is a refreshingly European hamlet, growing from the disrepair caused during its Communist past.
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