A Very Close Shave

If you think there is something special and wonderful about having your own cave room to wake up in every morning, you're only partly right.

While quaint and unique, it's actually also dark, damp and cold. By the end of our three days in Goreme, I think we were longing for even a bog standard Super 8 room. But we're not actually complaining.

During our stay here we have seen, first hand, all types of examples of cave dwellings and it has been truly remarkable. I have seen something similar to this in the cliff sides near Santa Fe, New Mexico, but this part of Turkey blows that out of the water. 

The primary purpose of these dwellings seems to be protection. One can only imagine the degree of fear of attack which compelled people to carve their homes on dangerously high rock faces.

At this castle in Uchusar, we were hoping that the kids could explore and get lost in a labyrinth of tunnels and secret passage ways, but most of this castle was out-of-bounds due to dangers arising from the damage caused by centuries of erosion.

But there were a few spots, out of view from the scolding attendants, and the kids will leave Goreme and Capadoccia with all sorts of great memories.

Including a local pottery artisan deftly and effortlessly carving and decorating his clay pots....

...while Mom and Dad were more impressed by the local food artisans with their clay cooking pots. I can't say we've been blown away by Turkish food, but this regional specialty of roasted chicken was quite yummy.

And you need that food to sustain and nourish the body during one of Dad's crazy long hikes. We walked A LOT during these three days. The weather has been a bit wild - sunny, cloudy, stormy - it's thrown everything at us except snow. But the generally overcast days has made it perfect for hiking.

But the kids don't seem to mind - this whole countryside is a playground in which they can run and climb and let out steam, or simply walk side-by-side talking about 'nothing' and 'stuff'.

We passed this old man and his trusty old horse waiting patiently at the end of the valley, optimistically looking out for a chance to earn some lira walking us farther along to our village destination. 

We would normally politely decline, but today we felt like happy to say yes, perhaps giving the man his only income for the day, and certainly making the last 2 km of our day trip more relaxing.

Feeling a little scruffy, and having read up on the virtues of the Turkish shave, I decided to give it a try myself. Funny, because most Turkish men seem to have a permanent 3 days growth on their faces (and so do some of the women!!).

The only problem is that I can't stand the idea of allowing someone with a razor-sharp instrument to get so close to my jugular and carotid. But this was great - the big horse hair brush was dipped in hot water and soap and then made a trip back and forth over my face for a good few minutes until you could mistake me for Santa Claus.

Then out came the blade. Uh oh, I thought. This is the part where half of me wants to turn away and cringe, and the other half wants to remain entirely motionless lest I end up sliced up into ribbons.

Well if Shirley can paraglide, then I must be able to handle a traditional shave. So I held on tight and relaxed. And this guy was a smooth operator. All my fuss was for nothing - I have to admit that I'm hooked. Although the surroundings are anything spa-like, it was a treat to be pampered like that. I just know I'll pay for it back in Canada when the guys see these pictures.

Especially because of the extra treatment. After the main job was done, this apprentice fellow applied the 'mask'. I hadn't really expected this, but I just nodded my head when the barber mumbled something in Turkish to me after the shave was complete, thus inadvertently signing up for the full facial cleansing package.

But my guy seems less than interested. Mind on task, buddy!

This is what many people come to Cappadocia for, but in the end we decided against doing the hot air ballooning. Perhaps it came too close on the heels of our paragliding, or maybe spending three days in the middle of this scenery made getting above it seem unnecessary. I don't know, but I definitely did not want to miss witnessing the spectacle. 

So the four of us woke up at 5:30 am to watch them all in action and snap a few nice photos - while it doesn't beat actually being in the balloon, it was pretty amazing to see them floating slowly across the sky.

But getting up that early meant that I had to be careful not to fall asleep behind the wheel for Owen's birthday activity - gokarting!! 

That's right - Owen turned nine years old today. And with tangible gifts difficult to pack and transport, we have been trying to focus on activities and adventures as a present instead.

We found this place in the large town nearby, and I'm actually surprised that they let someone as small and young as Owen participate in this fun (this would never be allowed in Canada) - the go karts are quite fast and one wrong move means you're in the tires. And he could barely keep the foot on the gas for the 25 or 30 laps, but Owen turned out to be quite an awesome driver, and I think he walked away feeling just a little bit older.

Happy Birthday Owen!

So goodbye Goreme - you have treated us well. Our next stop, after another hideously long and uncomfortable overnight bus ride, will be Istanbul (which, as the song goes, was once Constantinople).

Stay tuned!!