Pamukkale
Breakfast this morning was hosted by a family in Guzelyurt, in a house
which was once home to a Greek family before they were "encouraged" to
move to Greece in the 1920s (they still visit once a year to see
their old house). Following a lesson from Meltem all about Islam,
we walked the Valley of the Monasteries before returning to our own monastery
for lunch and one last dip in the pool.
We now drove across open country, along what was once part of the ancient
Silk Road. We stopped for afternoon tea at Sultanhani, which is one of the
better-preserved kervansaray, where weary travelers used to
rest for the night, and whose solid walls provided protection from bandits.
Their animals would be kept outside in an open section during summer, but in
winter, they could be kept under the roof shown here. This kervansaray
was built in the 13th century by Selcuk (pre-Ottoman) Turks.
Monday 16 August
We stayed a night in Konya, home of the Whirling Dervishes. About the only
entertainment was watching the carpets being dried (artificially aged?) on
the roof of Ahmet's Place. We toured the Mevlana Musezi in the morning
(a former mosque, and the tomb of Rumi), and then drove on to Pamukkale.
Not only did our hotel have a pool, but more significantly, the bookstore
just across the road offered Internet access, so for many of us, it was the
first chance in a while to catch up with friends and family.
Tuesday 17 August
We awoke this morning to the shocking news that a magnitude 6.7 earthquake
had struck the Istanbul area overnight. Whether it was because we were 250 km
south of the epicenter, or as a Kiwi living in Hawaii I am just used to these
things, but I never felt a thing. The TV showed quite a bit of damage,
particularly collapsed apartment buildings, but details were still sketchy.
My first thought was "I hope there's still an airport for me to fly out
of 2 days from now". Later I thought "You lucky bastard, whatever hassles
you get at the airport will be as nothing compared with what the survivors
will have to cope with".
The terraces of Pamukkale (literally "cotton fortress") are made of calcium
carbonate laid down over about 14 million years as mineral-rich spring water
flows over the hill and evaporates. The waters have long been renowned for
their apparent healing powers, and the Romans flocked to the nearby town
of Hierapolis (Holy City) in search of a cure. Not surprisingly, the
necropolis in Hierapolis is one of the largest anywhere. Until quite
recently, tourists were permitted to frolic in these pools, but in the
name of conservation, are now restricted to walking barefoot along a rough,
narrow path, or immersing themselves in a channel of fast-flowing, warm
water.
Another conservation measure was to close the hotels which border the
terraces, and which siphoned off too much water, thereby
preventing the terraces from replenishing the minerals which keep them
pristine. Although the hotels are closed, you can still swim in one of
the hotel pools, which incorporated some Roman columns from Hierapolis.
As much as I would have liked to go for a dip, we had time for only a
brief visit to Pamukkale before driving through the fertile Meanderes
River valley towards the Aegean coast.
Does this carved figure look familiar? We saw its cousin back in Istanbul,
in the Basilica Cistern. This one is
part of the remains of the Temple of Apollo near Didyrma, almost 400 km
from Istanbul! Citizens of the town of Miletus would walk 18 km to consult
with the Oracle who lived within the Temple.
In fact, the "Oracle" was actually a group of women, who would use an
intermediary to receive questions, and then answer them in riddles.
A large part of the Temple is still intact, including the inner sanctuary
shown here, and several upright columns, which help give a sense of scale
to what the place must have looked like in its heyday.
After a quick dip in the Aegean, we moved on to Miletus itself. The most
impressive structure is the massive amphitheatre, which is still in very good
condition, in spite of attempts by the Byzantines to convert it into a
fortress.
The massive arched vomitoria (I've always wanted to use that word) have
withstood the test of time. Miletus was also home to Thales (the unofficial
mascot of our tour), who was the first person to predict when a total solar
eclipse would occur, back in 585 BC. In Thales' time, Miletus was a coastal
city, but continual silting over the centuries has pushed the Aegean Sea
3 km away. At last we arrived in the town of Kusadasi, normally a quiet
coastal resort town of 40000, but in summer the population swells to a quarter
of a million. At our hotel, we were able to see BBC World on the television,
which reported that the earthquake had now been scaled up to a mag 7.8, with
at least 1200 dead. All phone lines in and out of Istanbul were jammed, so
we were unable to contact family overseas, or call airlines and hotels to
find out what their status was. One of the main highlights of our trip was
still to come, and yet it was hard to really enjoy ourselves while not so
far away from us (in a region we ourselves had passed through barely a week
earlier), there was so much hurt and suffering.