Bye Ölüdeniz! One of the most touristy, developed, but nevertheless also most impressive flying areas is now behind us. We say goodbye to the air-conditioned room and head back to our camper. The road calls... we haven't really seen much of Turkey yet. We spend the next few nights by the sea - on one beach there is a women-only area, completely closed off and fenced in... - by a gorge, in the middle of a small forest (where we had previously rescued a hitchhiker from the rain) and by a rather remote lake. Shortly before that, we got a decorative windmill as a gift from a tea vendor (help, what do you do with something like that???) and try to rent it out to the turtle that visits us here every day. She doesn't want to. And then: Cappadocia - the part that should not be missing from any trip to Turkey (or not, we certainly don't tell anyone what a trip should look like...).
Instagram Heaven and Tourism Hell
Everyone has probably heard of this place, or at least seen it in some social media feed. Cappadocia is somewhere in the middle of nowhere, pretty much in the middle of Turkey. The area is full of caves, some of which were inhabited, and used to be retreats in times of siege, but now they mostly serve as hotels. Or AirBnBs, or guesthouses, or just about anything else that can earn money from tourism. We arrive late in the evening and park our Freddy above the "Love Valley". Of course we expected a spectacle the next morning - after all, this is probably the world's most famous area for hot air balloon flights. But when the chaos starts at half past four in the next morning, we are still surprised.
Still half-asleep, we stand next to the bus in our pyjamas and make coffee, while to our left and right several tables have been set up under kitschy decorative arches. But why that? Oh, "Love Valley" - of course this is the best place for a marriage proposal. Or five at the same time. Every day. With photographers, fireworks and champagne. From 5 o'clock onwards, up to 160 hot-air balloons rise in the background, and to the left and right of us the different "individual" photo shootings start. Then the old Mustangs appear. On them are women who have borrowed pompous ball gowns and have them staged by another helper.
No matter in which direction you look, there is staging, taking pictures, looking for the best angle, proposing again because the light is better now, another quick make-up fix, another quick outfit change... and BANG - after about an hour it's all over. The hot air balloons land, the cars leave, the sun is already high in the sky, the Golden Hour is over, everyone goes back to their hotels or restaurants, a few surely go hiking and the tourism industry prepares for the next day... which will be exactly the same. And then again, and again, and again....
Everything fake?
All this staging, all the hype about the perfect image, which is then only edited and changed again. It's crazy. We feel like we're in a parallel world. To get more insight, we explore the different valleys. There is an entrance fee almost everywhere, of course parking costs something too and the restaurants are pretty fancy. We sit down in a street café full of old Turkish men... and happen to have found the only one where tea still costs 5 liras (0.30 Euros) instead of 50 😉 ...
The area is beautiful, the hustle and bustle around it is not. But we give it all another chance and stay another night. This time we have looked for a place where the hot air balloons will take off. In concrete terms, this means that we wake up even earlier the next morning - from the inflation of these very balloons. It makes an incredible noise. One by one, they lift into the air, our bus standing between them, up to 20 people squeezing into each basket. They take off and fly slowly towards the Love Valley, where presumably several couples are waiting again to get the perfect background for their so individual marriage proposal. Small, perfect make-believe world.
But that somehow destroys us. Sure, it's amusing to observe, but it's also strange to describe how these masses of people are always drawn to the same places. For the same picture. Which is not supposed to show what reality looks like. For the same food, but preferably the way you know it... And of course we are in the middle of it, we are part of it, we take pictures and film. It makes us think and also brings the question to the table: how do we want to travel? What do we really want to see, experience? Where do we want to be a part of it, and what can actually be safely forgotten, even if it is still so hyped?
Quiet nature
We drive onwards... still with thoughts of criticising mass tourism, we visit an underground town. And find ourselves trapped in tiny corridors between different tour-groups. So we walk along single file. It's cold and oppressive and deep underground. We have had enough and drive away from it all. Nearby there are also caves, but for some reason they haven't made it onto the tourist map yet. We explore the area, climb over scree, through a deserted valley and finally feel at home again. With our guitar with us, a quad group stops us, Luca plays a song for them and they dance with us. On a hill in complete silence and under a clear starry sky we fall asleep.
Fly a little bit
Kayseri is on our way, and we visit the city to fly again. We have a nice contact - Selim, a aspiring tandem pilot - and can go fly with him. Among other things, there is a paragliding school on site at the take off. It reminds us of our time before the exam... which was actually not so long ago. There is time for a flight, it's nice, but the landing is crazy. There's a huge sports field in the middle of town that we can use for this. But it's summer and hot and with every minute more and more people gather on this field to play ball, or picnic... it quickly turns into a full park and every landing becomes a hurdle race.
After packing and talking to a couple of Kurds next to our car with Google Translate, we go for coffee with Selin. It's already 10 pm, but Kayseri is one of those "Anatolian Tiger" cities: a city was built out of nothing, very Erdogan-connected, profit-oriented and very, very conservative. That means no alcohol. But we haven't minded for a long time, we are tired anyway and will soon go to sleep.
Suffering a little bit
The next day is incredibly boring and somehow also stressful. We have to fill up our water tanks, fight our way through a shopping centre, stop at almost every street stall to buy the fruit of the season (at the moment it's cherries - Luca wants to bake a cake), etc. The usual... we would like to spend a few days in untouristy nature, fully packed and carefree. Our first stop is at the waterfalls of Sizir. And here we stay for an unexpectedly long time. First Bianca gets a headache and fever and only a few hours later Luca comes down with it. There is only one self-test left in our first-aid-kit and it is immediately positive for Corona. The next few days are shrouded in fog. We sleep a lot, hardly leave the van, drink soup and suffer. We lack the energy to visit a doctor and the fear of infecting others makes us stay in this place.
Once we get a visit from Mehmet, a Turk born around Ulm, who is visiting his family here. He is so happy to have met us and wants to help us. He disappears for a moment and comes back with a huge packet of biscuits. And apologises that it's not more. He even gives us the contact of his uncle, should we need help in the next few days, because he will fly back home the next day. We are totally touched by so much hospitality and helpfulness.
A bit further
With the worst days behind us, we are slowly moving on. The highest we feel is an hour's drive per day. Our destinations are still very remote, but once we dare to visit hot springs (when no one else was there) and we also visit a campsite. The first and only one in Turkey (for us). We chug towards the Black Sea. Friends of Luca, who are also on their way east, but by bicycle, have ordered a package to Ordu, but are already in Georgia themselves. We want to get it for them and then continue along the coast until we get to our next workaway in the far northeast. An eco-hazelnut farm is to be the next, longer stop. If we really feel fit again, we want to spend a few days there....
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