We landed at the airport in Kayseri mid-day. The city is a pleasant and tidy, if uninspiring, vision of Turkish urbanity set at the foot of some vast mountain chain on the plains of central Anatolia. Owing to the fact that airport traffic seems exclusive to only 2 destinations, we were soon whisked away in a minibus, barrelling down the highway towards Goreme. It felt good, after nearly a week in Istanbul, to take a break from the urban. But Goreme, and its broader region of Cappadocia, are still on the Turkish tourist trail. They just happen to be at the other end of it. When one is seeking a new experience and a bit of relaxation, that sort of place fits the bill to a tee. The rolling plains spread out in all directions but within in an hour the landscape had cracked apart, and the first glimpse into the stunning rock formations began to show themselves. Each passing kilometer had more and more of the so-called ‘fairy chimneys’. Even if you didn’t know the name, the pictures are instantly recognizable to all with a passing familiarity of Turkey. They’re the postcard shots.

Goreme is nestled in a crescent shaped valley, wedged up on three sides against a low rocky abutment that shades the town and seems to protect it from it’s own expansionist instincts. And it is a town for tourists. Former cave homes that hosted generations of families for generations have been converted, rebuilt, or utterly fabricated to meet the demands of Goreme’s economic lifeblood. Ours was excellent – Hotel Tashkonak – and a great deal with a full, tasty breakfast and a large, lovely balcony that boasted views you couldn’t pay for in most of the world. In a nice bit of personalization, each room came with its own back story. Ours had been split before, a storage room (the bathroom), the old family kitchen (now the bed area), and a sunken living space that had served as the grandmother’s room once upon a time. All in all an excellent home base and launching point for our forays into the countryside.

Armed with a photocopy of a hand-drawn trail map, as well as the directional scribbles and advice of our hotel owner, we set out for Uchisar. The town lies about 7 kilometres south of Goreme and is crowned with a castle, though in reality this is simply a large rock outcropping that dominates views of the surrounding countryside. It made navigation considerably easier – an important consideration when the hiking trails are so thoroughly crossed with footpaths and signage is next to none. Leaving the road, the trail dives into verdant box canyons, surrounded by sheer rock walls and, for us, a bright assortment of late spring flowers in bloom. Paired with small tilled plots and the drama provided by numerous twists and turns, the region made for some lovely walking. Uchisar itself was charming but, as we were based in Goreme, did not seem to have quite the same charm. On the walk back I insisted on trying another route that would meet the valley we had come up before. I read the topography right, at least from on high. The trail did feed us straight to a meadow that we had crossed hours before. Sadly, we were about 60 feet too high, gazing down from the top of a blank escarpment with little option but to turn back. In the end, we made it home before the rain clouds that had been making their way north could do us any harm.

Our next day was a fuller perambulation, this time to the northern town of Cavusin via a winding series of trails both along a valley floor and into the flat topped hills to the east. Where the trail ducked through a short lava tube tunnel, we did a quick climb up the side, following some of advice from our aforementioned hotel owner. Up the slope, dug into the side of the hill, was a small opening that expanded upon entry into a tidy stone church. The layout was the Eastern Orthodox cross, decorated with some simple red ochre painted over the simple, shallow reliefs. Fully packed, the room could not hold any more than 40 people but it was a touching dedication to a time when belief was a trial and certainly a testament of faith that people would have carved this out of the rock over a thousands years earlier. For us, it was incredible that even in a region so clearly tourist-oriented that we could be in this place so rich in history yet be alone. The sheer variety and array of trails, valleys, and small sites are remarkable.

Farther along the path we stumbled onto a larger church, this one covered with old frescoes and with an adjoining dwelling carved out for whatever clergy may have been attached to the remote mission. This time there were others as an opportunistic entrepreneur had set up a small refreshment hut providing shade and drinks. All the same, the walk was fantastic and by the time we arrived in Cavusin we had worked up a monstrous appetite. Turkish food (with, admittedly, some Western favourites) continued to make for excellent and delicious refueling moments, though we had a brief delay as there was a three small puppies who were cavorting about the town square.

Not everything was puppies and kebabs however. Our efforts to make our way to the underground cities to the south was thwarted by a combination of lacking public transit and avaricious cabbies, coupled with a short schedule. In the end, we wandered about Nevsehir, a larger county seat, a bit before busing back to Goreme. Too few days, in the end, was our take away. In Cappadocia that was especially true but for Turkey as a whole, the country bustles with life, energy, history, and beauty. It was easy to see why people fall for it and the sheer diversity of the place nearly guarantees something for everyone.  While we were sad to go, we will be back.