snow-capped cappedocia

i scarffed down the absolute worst su boregi (rectangular multi-layered cake of steamed pastry stuffed with white sheep's-milk cheese and parsley) while anxiously waiting for my bus to arrive. the oil seeped through the napkins to my cold and pasty fingers asserting its overbearing presence in my body. i was traveling from antalya to cappedocia with all of my awkward luggage. it was getting cold, i was getting tired and worried that the bus might show up without me knowing it. then the thoughts came: "is this it? it's not in the 23 slot, but it's the right bus company. i'm just going to check. but what if i can't come back into the terminal once i'm outside? what if someone takes my bags? i'll just take them with me. the ticket says 8:30 and my watch says 8:05 but i'm adding from vancouver time -why didn't i reset this useless watch, why? i'll just check the clock, there's got to be a clock. i'll just walk to the middle of the terminal -but if this is my bus and it takes off, i'm screwed. okay, i'll just walk over there and check if it's my bus." and then i heard english twanged with a new zealand accent. blessed, wonderful english. we instilled each other with confidence and exchanged a quick account of our travels thus far. then we were on the bus in our seats and off to goreme, cappedocia.

we arrived at around 7:30am to what i thought was goreme. how did i come to this conclusion? well, for starters my luggage had been tossed onto the puddled pavement, there were signs everywhere with goreme on it, and a man walked up and down the bus aisle screaming "goreme." guess again! i was in nev ashir, a neighboring town and certainly not the one on my bus ticket. it is quite common for this to happen, according to lonely planet. travel agents scoop you up when you're vulnerable. fortunately, this travel agent was really good to me. he took me in, fed me breakfast, housed me until the tour started, housed my luggage for the entire day, got me a really good deal on a bus ride back to istanbul, fed me dinner after the tour and kept the agency open after hours so i could wait indoors with heat and all before my bus ride later that night.

this marked my first snow experience of the year. in my sleepy haze, i forgot my jacket in my backpack before the tour but i was shortly joined by an indian family from london who where also suited inappropriatly. we shivered an introduction and off we went. once we took sight of the marvels awaiting us, it was all worth it. the snow reclaimed nature's rightful work by hugging the curves of hallowed rock. the combination of human ingenuity and natural magnificence was so poigniant that it made me overlook the abandoned ciggarette butts and packages. it was a tight squeeze to the top of one of the structures but, alas, the cozy cave abode proved to be a rewarding look out. as i gazed at the oddly shaped village, i pondered the adaptability of human kind.

it was amusing and pleasant to be surrounded by a young family. the dad walked around filming the dorky home video (loudly narrating about every detail) while the younger boy made new friends and noises. the older boy stayed close to his mother and smiled without complaint for every family photo. i later found out that the older son is autistic. i was happy to share my positive experiences with aba therapy with the mother who had never heard of it before. we talked late into the evening over chai and a heat lamp while waiting for our respective busses. after a long and theraputic talk, we bid farewell in the cappedocian snow.