The Call to Prayer is at 5:36 this morning. It is a recording with a terrible scratch at the end. The wind Is SSW 6mph. When in Cappadocia, these two morning events are what matters. The blaring scratch at the end of prayer doesn’t diminish the affect. The wind means no launch and the skies are diminished of color and joy. Bag people are returning at 6:29 carrying their consolation gift for not flying today.
It’s calm but cloudy. No stars. Wind 1 mph out of north. 46° with rain expected about 2pm. In this arid land I don’t expect much. Vans can be heard zipping about the streets.
The Call to Prayer woke me at 5:28; the unmistakable roar of burners blasting a flame into balloons got me out of my room before 6:15. Walking outside, I was met with an unbelievable sight. Balloons – overhead!
It may be confusing how to spell or pronounce where I am, but there is no confusion as to how spectacular this region of Turkey is.
I quick ride past wind-sculptured bluffs and mesas towering above a river which feeds agriculture and sheep, and I am in the fantasy city of Göreme in fabled Cappadocia. It is warm and dry, clouds promise a good sunset. I walk the few minutes to the store, buy some Efes Pilsen, and retreat to my hotel’s terrace to watch the sun set over the fairy chimneys of Cappadocia. Life is good.
The next two days will be a mix of flight and fantasy. Some final beautiful views of Khiva’s gates and fortifications as we drive to the airport; experiencing Uzbekistan security and airplanes; gin and tonic Uzbek style and farewell dinner – all add spice to the mix of traveling in the Stans of Central Asia.
Ichan-Qаl’а is the walled inner town of the city of Khiva. In 1990, it was recognized as a World Heritage Site by UNESCO. A day visiting its sites, wandering its narrow streets and squares, and walking its walled fortifications clearly proves why it has earned that honored designation.
Early morning finds me at West Gate, one of four gated entries into the walled city. Ichan-Qаl’а, even with its multitudes of Uzbek salespersons, is an easy city to explore.
Mosques, madrasas, museums, meals, walks…it is becoming a blur. Don’t ask me where I was two nights ago and expect a quick answer. I drag myself into breakfast at a slower pace. I fruitlessly hope for a good cup of brewed coffee. There is always lunch just a few hours away so I won’t starve. It is another busy day learning about The Stans. I’m beginning to be thankful the original five became four.
Before leaving Bukhara, before facing our long, long drive across the deserts of Uzbekistan, we drive five minutes then are guided through a maze of little alley streets to a final mosque. It is a great site to start the morning.
