The caves with no beer

Early starts and more tours. This time further south east.

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We joined a tour heading to further south east Anatolia, guide was very suave. Kaymakli Underground city with very claustrophobic tunnels and underground chambers. Unfortunately I made the tour group wait while I thought about if I would freak. Tour guide had just told us that we need to crawl down very low roof tunnel for 10m and was one way for the rest of crawling. No turning back. At least I found a use for being short

Shamed myself into it and all was going well until random, noisy, excitable Italian group got a bit loud, pushy and shovey so had to hide in Erics sweaty shirt and ventilate. Fear passed after thinking about poor early 200AD Christians hiding underground for years so continued on. Very impressed by wine making presses and kitchen smoke Ingenuity. Even a large ventilation shaft with a secret opening.

Bit sad that these christians had to hide and live like that but I'm learning not to judge the past, well trying not to.

Rach and I been avoiding drinking water as toilet scene a bit traumatising. Today at least there was flush next to step toilets but smell was unbearable. Feeling floppy and deydrated seems better choice.

Very different ideas about alcohol out here. Only juice or salty yoghurt offered at cafes which is sad after walking 15,000 steps up hills, steps in hot hot sun developing a man's thirst. 🧑‍🦲 and eating burnt trout and burghul for lunch.

Bought some amazing jewellery with Sultanate stone only found in Turkey and pinker than pink scarf so not all bad.

Climbed up dusty steep hills to see early monastery and necropolis carved into the cone monoliths . Once again in hiding.

Had a thyme flavored Margarita on a very classy rooftop despite the maitre D taking one look at our dusty straggly selves and pointing to another cafe who pointed us back to your roof top. Maitre D agreed we could stay for one drink 🤫

It appears these bars rely on Instagram appeal and we were obviously not that.

I had come to the conclusion that Aussies are dags when I heard a young Aussie accent, pausing between Shisha pipe puffs, to say how deadly emus are when questioned about what we thought was cassowaries. Was trés amusing.

We were then treated to dinner at a family restaurant that gave us gifts of food. William had the traditional clay pot stew and the owner let me buy our beautiful Pink tablecloth off the table for very reasonable price. Hoping my family will forgive me by the morning but It was stunning !!! (Despite the food we dropped on it). See photos of my souvenir haul including black rose oil which is swooning material.

In the morning we are catching a bus to Ankara which is not so touristy so could hit some language snags, then we fly to Canakkake, Gallipoli to pay our respects and, I imagine, cry and feel the loss. 🌹Read more