Text 5186, 93 rader
Skriven 2010-12-23 21:04:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: cappadocia 916
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Our destination, Goreme, is the site of the most famous cave
dwellings. I'd expressed interest in inhabiting same, so
Lilli had found us accommodation at the Sultan Cave Suites
(as opposed to the Sultanahmet Suites, where we had been in
Istanbul). This facility is part of the Kelebek Hotel, the
first luxury facility to take advantage of the tourist
potential of this area.

We were greeted with true Middle Eastern hospitality and
were offered breakfast before check-in: breads, cheese,
fruit, jams, olives, and beverages, all of exemplary
variety, quantity, and quality.

The hotel (supposedly, according to the literature) occupies
a former cloister carved into the cliffside: the austere
monastic cells have now been turned into rather luxurious
accommodations. In order to afford these, we took one suite
in contrast to our usual splurgy practice of getting two
rooms (beforehand Lilli had sent me a link to photos of our
digs, which looked big enough so we could have our privacy
as necessary). It turned out to be enormous, luxurious, and
modernly appointed. On negotiating the staircases and twisty
turns on the way from the office, first we encountered the
dining area in front, a patio with a nice little table that
might seat four; then the anteroom, with an armoire and an
antique chest of drawers, as well as plenty of room for
lounging around, but no chairs; off that the front bedroom,
quite attractive, with a queen-size bed; then the bath,
about the size of your ordinary motel room, with a
whirlpool, an old-style sink (with no drain, but I didn't
notice that until I used it) such as we saw in the harem
of the Dolmabahce, a modern sink, a smallish but adequate
shower, and a toilet with about 15 of feet space in front.
Upstairs to the living room, with an apparently nonworking
fireplace, and then the back bedroom, up two giant steps
(they should have made 3 steps, maybe 4); this was actually
inside the cliff proper and very cozy, fitting the king bed
with not an enormous amount of space to spare. In respect
of my Lasix habit, Lilli took this room.

After getting settled we walked downtown and then the extra
kilometer or two to the open-air museum, a former Orthodox
monastery carved into the mushroom rocks, with frescoes in
some of the churches dating back to the 7th century (though
the nice ones, done in tempera, were maybe 4 or 5 hundred
years later). This is said to be the quintessential cave
community, and it was amazing. On a clear day, which this
was, you can stay forever. We stayed until we got tired of
having bonked our heads on the short doors and until our
feet hurt, having seen many chapels, many frescoes, and
many tourists. Camels, too. Across the road, outside the
museum proper, there's a bigger church, dear to me because
it has a painting of St. Michael in it. And beyond is the
community tucked into the cliffs and mushroom rocks from
which the monastery got its clientele.

The walk back, though largely downhill, seemed harder and
longer, and so when we got back to town we strolled through
the streets of downtown at a relaxing tourist's pace, poking
our noses into stores and restaurants and making plans for
the evening's entertainment. After this surprisingly
refreshing activity, we had the energy to climb up the hill
behind town for a lovely view of the open-air museum and its
nearby valleys. We came down as it was getting cold and dark
and stumbled into a restaurant called Silk Road, on the main
drag, and, as it turns out, recommended in Lonely Planet. As
tourist season was winding down, there were only a couple
other tables occupied; and as it was cold, portable heaters
were deployed and welcome. Lilli had the traditional warming
comfort meal of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwich,
neither of which was quite the same as what one had when one
was a kid, and hurray for that. I had the famous Cappadocian
pottery stew - you lop off the top of the jug, and all this
delicious lamb and juice bubble out, making a mess, in
anticipation of which they put a paper napkin under the
pottery, and the juices make a mess of that, too. This
version was lamb, zucchini, eggplant, and potatoes in 1/3"
dice (the potatoes twice that size), in a thin brothy tomato
sauce. Pretty good. For her: cheap red wine; for me, Efes.

We returned slowly and satisfiedly to our room, where I
showered with the Kelebek Hotel's custom-made thyme soap.
Made me imagine I was a stew myself.

There's a mosque just down the way. Its auto-muzzein was
out of synch with itself, and the canonic effect was amusing
or annoying ... our quarters were not so soundproof as one
might wish of a cave, and my front room was downright noisy
at times, with revelers coming and going through the night.

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