5:47 am – a cacophony of prayer calls stream over the city battling for the airwaves from every direction. I suspect the large Melike Hatun Mosque just around the corner is winning. I go back to sleep.
Breakfast: the usual wide selection of olives, cheeses, eggs, breads and jellies, a bunch of stuff. No yogurt and no coffee. I’m not wild about tea on the best of days and I am getting sick of it here. But, I have my bright new yellow Cappadocia socks on my feet and an umbrella in my pocket and ready for that castle.
As one happy traveler put it: What are you waiting for? What are you saving for? Now is all there is.
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.