Call to Prayer

One of the most moving experiences on the Turkey adventure was having the Imam of the Green Mosque sing the Call-To-Prayer for us.

Barak Obama cok guzel

I'm not going to explain how we got in this situation or what happened, but I will say, it is good to get out into the world and experience what life brings.

Reunion in Izmir

Remember these pictures from 1963?

See the handrail that Dad is holding on to? Well here it is today:

The apartment building Mom and Dad lived in:

Address: Kabaalioglu (1403), Apartment #3, Penthouse

The building entry:

The back of the building showing the roof where the 1963 photos were taken:

The front of the building:

At the front door of their apartment. Dad wanted to knock. Mom did not want to disturb the school teacher who now lives there.

Another front view.

And then we met Mom's friend Jacqueline and her children for lunch. Mom and Jacqueline had not seen each other for 47 years.

Mom and Jacqueline.

Me on the left, Dad, Mom, Jacqueline, Sandra, Guido.

Izmir.

Pamukkale

Pamukkale, Pamuk = Cotton, Kale = Castle.

Geothermal springs blasting out of limestone mountains. The hot water carries minerals out of the ground and deposits them on the surface. The Romans built aquaducts and bath houses here. Our hotel tapped into a spring called "Red Water" to feed their mineral/thermal bathing pool:

Even Mom got in for a soak. The feed water was supposedly at 55-58 degrees C.

Mineral scale on the soaking pool.

We visited the Roman city Hierapolis right in the middle of the hot springs.

That's not a snow capped mountain. The minerals in the geothermal water here are white, hence the name Pamuk Kale. So the wall structure on the extreme left is a Roman aquaduct. In 1962, Mom and Dad stayed in a hotel at the top center where the trees are.

It's a shame it was overcast and rainy. Pamukkale is a beautiful place. A photographer could spend days here.

On the road to Izmir.

Shopping for brass and copper ware in Izmir. Free cay for all customers.

Antiocheia in Pisidia

New friends.

Roman bath house.

Theater.

St. Paul preached here.

And how is it you do not see the grasshopper at your feet? In this case, the talisman is a praying mantis.

Ballooning over Cappadocia, Whriling in Konya

We took a hot air balloon ride through the crazy Cappadocia landscape.

I think Dad is ready to go up in the paraglider with me.

There must have been 20 balloons with a dozen passengers each.

After the balloon ride, we drove to Konya, home of Rumi, the mystic poet. Unfortunately they would not allow photos inside the mosque that has been converted into a Rumi/Sufi museum and Dervish performances are only on Saturday. Still, being a few feet away from Rumi's bones was meaningful. The turquoise minarets differentiate the museum from other mosques. Mixed in with the inconsiderate tourists were many Muslim pilgrims, praying before the sarcophagi of Sufi mystics. The pilgrims drink from the fountain outside the museum. Being germaphobes, we did not partake.

Konya is the bible belt of Turkey and you see more headscarves here than any where else. Several women around the museum were in black burkas.

I like this photo because only her eyes are sharp. Of course, I did that on purpose.

Konya street scenes from my hotel room balcony:

Goreme

Something like 25 million years ago, volcanic ash piled up and was later covered by a layer of basalt. Then erosion whittled away at the strata and left "fairy houses." The hard basalt at the top protects the soft tufa underneath.

Humans came along and found they could carve nice shelters out of the soft tufa - Hittite Troglodytes. 1300 years ago, Christian Troglodytes built their churches in the fairy houses.

Grape vines around the fairy houses.

Mom and Dad ready to hike the bizarre landscape.

The cresent moon rides a tufa wave.

A face full of personality.

Entertainment at lunch.

Frescos from 700 AD inside a church carved out of tufa.

Tufa condominiums.

The Greeks called him Priapas. The Turks call him Ali Baba.

Camel Toes.

Wool yarn colored with natural dyes, ready to be woven into a magic Turkish carpet.

Cappadocia

Musician friends.

Do you see the three chicks?

Ala Daglar on the horizon.

The village is literally cut into the soft volcanic rock.

Hiking through the bizarre landscape.

Too dry for the red poppies, but plenty of desert wildflowers.

Stairway to heaven.