Throne of the Gods

From the bizarre rock formations of Cappadocia we made our way east to the small city of Malatya (population 500,000) to use as a base for our excursion to Mt. Nemrut. We were joined by our new friend, Joel, a hilarious college student from Colorado who helped to keep us entertained.
Malatya is something like the apricot capital of Turkey and we arrived just before the big harvest festival was about to begin. Unfortunately we were unable to stick around and take part in the festivities. No matter how long you are travelling for, there is never enough time to do everything. Our bus landed us in town at two in the morning after stalling out a couple of times en route. After our first choice hostel was full, and our second choice turned out to be too expensive, we settled for some dumpy pension next door and crashed.
The next day turned out to be more simple and successful. In the morning we located the tourist information office and grabbed a tour that was to make it's way to the mountain in a few hours which left just enough time for breakfast (by the way, have I mentioned that Turkish breakfast is cucumbers, tomatoes, crumbly white cheese, a hard boiled egg and tons and tons of bread?).
About an hour into our trip up the winding mountain road to the hotel we would spend the night in, we began a conversation with a lovely family of five (four year-old Mohammed, six year-old Reem, and nine year-old Zaineb and of course their parents) who were also on the trip. Turns out that they are Iraqi and currently live in Baghdad. The conversations that followed were interesting and revealing -- of course we had a lot of questions. The most memorable remark made to me by the mother, Niran, was that there had been days where she left her home and walked over body parts. We all know it's going on, but it really drives it home to meet and speak with someone who is living through it. She said she preferred the previous regime even though she did not like Hussein. "At least it was stable" she said, "and we didn't have this." She was a pharmacist (and her husband a doctor) but had to close her business for fear of being killed now that Sunni and Shia'a Muslims seem to have turned against eachother unlike before. She happened to be Shia'a and her husband was Sunni. The children were beautiful and high spirited and Joel must have taken a hundred photos of them at the summit of the mountain as we waited for and watched the sun set on the western side. When we all said our farewells the following day back in Malatya, Niran's parting comment - - "Pray for us."

Turkish Time Warp

What day is it? Where am I? These are questions one starts to ask oneself after 4 weeks in Turkey - - particularly if you have spent 6 nights cruising around the Mediterranean.
We did manage to finally drag ourselves out of a lazy, sun-drenched stupor and head to Olimpos for a night of recovery. Olimpos is famous for its treehouses. Don't be fooled into thinking it is actually a town. It is a long dirt road flanked by shack-like treehouses and bungalows with a chilled out hippy sort of vibe. It also felt (and looked) quite a bit like summer camp. A 15 minute walk past the dirt road leads to a pebbly beach where we soaked up what will be our final beach rays for a little while now. We spent only one night here before spending a semi-miserable night on the road to the town of Goreme in the Cappadocia region of Turkey.
We spent 3 nights in Goreme and visited the various sites of the region -- lots and lots of caves. Lots and lots of bizarre rock formations. It was hot and dry, but a wonderful and relaxed little town to spend a few nights in. One of the highlights was "Turkish Night", kind of a dinner show with a whirling dervish demonstration, a couple of hours of lively folk dancing, a belly dancing performance and a steady stream of alcohol which was included in the deal. By the time the belly dancing began, it was all getting pretty funny. Of course the belly dance grabs half a dozen men to participate and makes them all take their shirts off. By this time, Laurel and I had made friends with two hilarious college boys from the states and we nearly wet ourselves laughing at them trying to belly dance in front of an enormous crowd. Definitely one of the main highlights of Turkey in my opinion.
I had a request for some description of the smells of Turkey, and the first thing that honestly comes to mind is body odor. I really think a lot of Turkish men have never heard of deoderant. The first time we had this pungent experience was actually on the Turkish Airlines flight out of Casablanca to Istanbul. Funny that this should be so common here given that every time you get onto a bus in Turkey the bus attendant comes by and pours lemony cologne onto everyone's hands. Somehow they live and die by this cologne but can't be bothered to put some anti-perspirant under their arms! You may be wondering about this cologne thing now? Seriously, when you get on the bus there is an attendant (who also serves the coffee, tea, soda and biscuits which are included in the bus fare) who comes by with a big bottle of what I can only describe as a mixture of alcohol and lemon and pours some into everyones hands. The men will rub it on their face and through their hair even.
Incidently, if Turkey is home to B.O., then Morocco is home to cross-eyeds. Really. I noticed people with one crossed eye repeatedly in Morocco.
Aside from the B.O. though, Turkey didn't strike me as terribly stinky or full of garbage -- even though the bus drivers throw their trash out the window (much to my irritation).

Just Keep Moving

Actually -- we have had a hard time covering much ground the last few days. We are back in Fethiye again. We had such a good time on our three night cruise from Fethiye to Olympos and made some great acquaintances that led us to do the reverse cruise BACK to Fethiye where we still are today. We will dislodge ourselves tomorrow and take the bus to Olympos to stay there for one night in the famous treehouses (these aren't the actual ones we will stay in, but you get the idea). It is quite the backpacker thing to do.
After Olympos, it is off to Cappadocia (some random pics off the internet).
Sorry for the lame posting but the heat here is zapping me of all energy