Fairy Chimneys in Smurf Land

We are in central Turkey, it is one degree celsius, raining and windy and it has been that way for a while. It makes quite a difference from the sunshine in the desert a little while ago. Every time we go out we are buying a new piece of mismatched winter clothing. There is a chance of snow tomorrow. Isn't that great.

Anyway, we closed the last blog with a promise of a little more Syria. Here is Aleppo, where we spent a couple of days wandering around and buying several pashminas which we don't need and a couple of kebabs which are still working their way through.

The town's main feature, at least to us, was the world's grottiest fresh fruit market. It is just downstream from the meat market, where this little guy is inflating intestines. There does not seem to be a functioning public garbage system, so there are a few centimetres of decomposing fruit floating in the meat sludge. The town's best cheese croissant place is just in the middle of that quagmire, so we had little choice but to go in there.

A day trip out of Aleppo was a visit to St Simeon's Monastery, or the ruins thereof. St Simeon was the 5th century extroverted preacher who perched himself on a pole, and as his reputation increased so did the size of his pole, gradually reaching 18m. His followers erected a cathedral in his honour, and for a while it was the largest on earth. Even its ruins are fairly impressive. We discovered a floor fresco by pushing to the side some dirt and it is amazing that some of the arch work has survived for so long.

The speciality of Northern Syria is cherry kebab, and yes, it is as bad an idea as it sounds. Pita bead is drenched in sour cherry sauce, and the sauce is also poured over undercooked lamb. It is a digestive time bomb.

We mentioned in the last post being within a few metres of President Bashar. This is the best photo we could get - pretty tragic we know - but at least we got a photo of a security goon.

Our final highlight in the Aleppo souk was meeting a couple of Syrian Australians who own a pashmina shop, and exclaim "terrible quality, very expensive" as you walk past.They are very proud of their connection to Australia, and if you stop there long enough they will complain about welfare recipients at West End. It is the only place in Syria you will hear someone say "F@#k me dead" and "Suck me dry and call me dusty". Brilliant. Faces will be concealed to protect the innocent.

Then it was into Southern Turkey, where the souk gave way to more village-based marketing efforts.

Once we had spent a couple of days in busses getting into the touristy area of Cappadocia, we tried our hands at local handicrafts.

Poorly. And this was with professional assistance.

Then we made our way to our "hotel".

The place deserves a rant-like mention, because it can teach the uninitiated a few lessons. "Central heating" is one water heater in most rooms. "Guaranteed hot water 24 hrs" refers to the kettle in the kitchen which is accessible during business hours, and has nothing whatsoever to do with the shower, and "unique cave rooms" does not mean the stone smurf-houses you will see later in the post, but rather a small unventilated concrete hole that smells like faeces. Not that we are complaining, of course, and the smell was probably due to Matt and the remnants of his cherry kebab.

One of the best ways to see the local scenery is by driving through it quickly and dangerously.

And while you're at it, why not have some wine before negotiating that steep stoney descent?

This is one of the typical views of the region.

Behind the young guy doing circle work are "fairy chimneys".

Ten million years ago, three volcanoes which border what is now the Cappadocia region spewed out 200m of ash and then a thick layer of lava. Erosion then created these maginificent structures, which early Christians carved houses and churches in, either because of the unavailability and extortionate rates of tradesmen or because of Roman persecution. If the maginificence of the natural landscapes and the human endeavour in carving churches and four storey houses out of stone is does not impress, they also look like penises which provides at least three days of non-stop amusement.

The main attraction in Gorome, the town in which we are based, is the "Open Air Museum", which is a cluster of rock-carved churches with well-preserved 1,500 year old early Christian frescos still inside. We happened to visit at the same time as about 3,000 overweight Italians, whose idea of a holiday was standing in doorways staring gormlessly into space, so we got frustrated a left pretty quickly, but not before catching a scoop on next season's Middle Eastern Travel Collection, straight from the catwalks of Milan.

So you get the idea about the frescos, here is one that we managed to see during a short break in the Italians yesterday.

And here is lovely Gorome. Those clouds in the distance have degenerated into rain and wind. But hey, we could be at work ...

The volcanic ash layer, called "Tuf" in Turkish, is not very strong and whole sides of the fairy chimneys have fallen away, allowing views inside the houses. They even carved cupboards and candle holders into the stone.

And if you walk just a little bit further the rock turns rose-coloured. If you look closely you can make out Penny clambering down a steep mountain path.

And here is what fear looks like.

That ends the guided part of our trip. We now have a month on our own, starting with a week around the west coast of Turkey.