(A post to remember Turkey)
It was our third day in Cappadocia when we decided to walk to Ortahisar despite the cold weather. When we asked locals in Goreme how to get there, no one recommended it: “there’s not much to see, tourists don’t go there”. First thought: tourists don’t go there doesn’t necessarily mean there’s not much to see. As a rule we set during our travels, we follow our intuition and try not to get trapped in the single story.
After one hour walk, we finally arrived at Ortahisar. Suddenly a car stopped by our side, the driver rolled down the window, uttered “Merhaba!” and invited us in. He said he could show us around and take us to a special place. Edgar and I exchanged some hesitant looks, then in mutual silence, we agreed to hop in. His name was Mustafa. He was bringing provisions to a family of Syrian refugees who had found shelter in a nearby crumbling house. The family was not there at the time.
Before leaving, Mustafa initiated us in the history of Ortahisar that locals call “the tallest fairy chimney in Cappadocia” due to the ninety meters high rock castle (kalesi in Turkish) which used to be a fortress. He then apologized for not being able to join us further because of his aching feet. Yet he left open another invitation to stop by his house on the way back to warm up with some Turkish tea. It sounded compelling.
We started our rollercoaster journey through the stone houses and the silent ruins, brought to life by the recurrent prayer (ezan in Turkish). The half opened doors were still telling the story of stashing the fruit and vegetable supplies. A donkey here and a horse there depicted the rustic agricultural soul of the place. Ortahisar with its authentic Turkish feel and Arcadian landscape hypnotized us for the next two hours until the cold settled in frightfully.
This is where Mustafa’s house sounded even more compelling. Knock! Knock! Instead of the ubiquitous Turkish tea, we were warmed by homemade wine and a traditional ceramic stove. Our conversation unfolded so naturally it was as if we had known each other for a lifetime.
There are many reasons to travel to Ortahisar, but on that snowy evening, we felt that Mustafa’s home was worthy enough.
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