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A Turkish Delight
Flying High & Feeling Low
Day 5 Cappadocia
It was the worst nights rest on the trip so far. What with the upset stomach making me visit the toilet three times I also woke screaming from the pain in my calf muscle from a bout of cramp that felt like someone had stabbed my leg. To round it off we had to be up at 4:30am because we had booked a dawn balloon flight and were being picked up in half an hour. Tired and sick to my stomach we waited in the dark to be picked up from outside our hotel. The mini bus arrived and we were each given a neck tag with the balloon registration number, TC-BOH on. We climbed on board into a stifling cabin for the journey to Göreme, which took us along some very twisty narrow roads, all of which made me feel worse. I was glad to get out of the vehicle which was parked amongst the many other buses that had gathered on the wide open field that was to be our take off strip. Numerous baskets were lined up in a row; each with a deflated balloon lay on the ground in front. Large gas powered fans could be heard, which are used to blow cold air to partially inflate the main envelope. The shapes of the numerous envelopes were now starting to take form and it was time to approach our balloon by following the guide with the registration number that matched our neck tag. We reached the basket and a camera man organised the passengers so he could take a group shot before we climbing on board. The basket is split into five sections, the centre section for the pilot and fuel tanks, the other four in each corner holding four people. Mo struggled to climb aboard but eventually managed to get her leg over the top lip of the wicker basket. With everyone aboard the pilot gave us some safety instructions regarding the landing procedure and then started to operate the main gas burners to fill the envelope with hot air ready for takeoff. I could feel the heat from the hot flames against my head and hoped that what hair I still had wasn’t going to be burnt away. With each blast of the burner the basket slowly began to leave the ground, gracefully floating up into the air up over the trees. As soon as one balloon had taken off this was the signal for all the other balloons in the area to lift off in a well choreographed manoeuvre. Dawn was breaking with the shapes of the rocks below becoming more defined by the minute. From this high vantage point I could see for miles in all directions, climbing higher and higher to get a good view of the first signs of the orange sun rise behind Mount Erciyes in the distance. Far below was a patchwork of fields, houses, rocks, roads and the fort we had climbed to, outlining the vast extent of this strange landscape. Our pilot was skilfully manoeuvring the balloon amongst the ‘Fairy Chimneys’ and over the rocky ravines to give us some splendid views. At one point we seemed to be heading straight into the hillside until the last second he toggled the burners and slowly lifted the basket so that it brushed against the dried grasses growing on the ground.The balloon is controlled using a series of vent panels to make it descend and rotate about its axis. The combination of these simple controls moves the balloon anywhere the pilot wishes. The flight was so stable that it felt more like I was stood on an invisible platform and it was the ground that was moving beneath me. We were now making our final decent and the basket simply touched the ground and came to a standstill, a perfect landing. We couldn’t leave the basket straight away, but had to wait until the next group arrived to take our place or the balloon could simply float away.
Day 5 Road to Konya
In celebration of the first balloon flight made by the Montgolfier Brothers during the 17th Century it is tradition to crack open a bottle of champagne and serve Bucks Fizz to everyone. The trip was so amazing that I had completely forgotten how ill I was feeling until I returned back to the hotel for a quick breakfast before we had to depart on the next stage of the journey.
I don’t remember much about the journey to the underground city at Derinkuyu due to the fact I was asleep for most of it. The city was a refuge for the first Christians escaping the persecution of the Romans and on raid from Arab tribes. I walked to the entrance but decided I didn’t want to be crawling around the passages whilst I was still feeling under the weather. Mo also chose not to because of her knee so instead we found a quiet area with tables and chairs in the market and had a drink. First built in the 8th Century B.C. it was enlarged during the Byzantine period and is believed to have eleven interconnecting floors and accommodate from 35,000 to 50,000 people. Today was going to be an easy day of travelling giving me plenty of time to get my head down and sleep.
I was dozing and my head was rocking to and fro with the movement of the coach on the uneven roads. The muscles in my neck had started to ache so I was glad that we had arrived at Sultanhani to see the a fortified caravansaries on the Silk Road trade route from Konya to Aksaray that continued onto Persia and the far east. Walking through the high pointed main gate in the centre of the front to reveal a large courtyard with walls on all sides. I slowly wandered around looking at the impressive structure and then turned right and decided to sit in the shade under the arcades of the side walls. This covered area was used as stables. Sitting with my back to the wall and looking right I could see more arches leading to the back of the courtyard. In front of me in the centre of the courtyard was the stone structure of a kiosk mosque, the oldest example in Turkey.
The final stop of the day was the Mevlana Museum, home to the school of Sufism, founded by Muslim philosopher and poet Celaleddin Rumi founder of the Mevlevi order of dervishes who is also known as Mevlana by Muslims. We entered the museum via the main security gate and walked through the marble courtyard passed the dervish cells in the left to the main museum building with its distinctive turquoise roof. I chose to sit down on one of the benches in the shade whilst everyone else went to explore the museum. There were many visitors walking around the complex entering the various buildings. Whilst I was sat watching the hustle and bustle going on around me the now familiar sound of the call to prayer started. I have often wondered what is actually being said. I noticed that Funda was sat on a bench opposite and walked over to ask her. She told me that it was ‘In the name of God you are called to prayer.’ Then we sat chatting about her getting home to Antalya the next day before the rest of the group came back from their explorations. It had been a long day by the time we reached the hotel. After buying some snacks from the small shop opposite I just needed to relax in the room ready for the next days drive to Antalya.
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