The same breakfast as before, only as we were at prime time
we were reduced to picking up our food in the regular room
cafeteria-style and moving it to the restaurant next door.
One does eat a bit less under this system, I admit.

We'd mulled over the possibilities for exploring the region.
It is said to be possible to use the bus system as described
before, but one might have to stand around a bit or even be
put in a situation similar to that of our Mesoamerican
colleagues the other day; car rental is a possibility; or,
for not too much money, one can take a tour. Okay.

We reported to the parking lot at 8, where our young guide
Adem, who also had learned his English in the military, met
us with the minibus and driver. As usual, lili took seat 1A,
and I necessarily took 1B (we did switch between us, but
nobody else got the prime seats, ever).

Our first destination was actually within walking distance -
the Rose Valley, so called because at dusk the failing light
tints the cliff walls - in the morning, you don't get this
effect, but on the other hand you see stuff: vertiginous
cliff dwellings (apparently in use until the 1920s, when
there was a mass trade between Turkey and Greece, each
sending its ethnic minority to its place of origin), slot
canyons, exotic fruit trees now gone wild. Adem was both
knowledgeable and enthusiastic as well as a good hiker.
Oddity: right before a slot canyon, in the middle of
nowhere, there was a little makeshift pub under a tent,
selling mostly pomegranate juice at not-too-inflated prices
but decorated with wine fiaschi, so they must sell that too.

Having been suitably tired out by a several kilometer walk,
we trooped meekly to the bus for our next destination,
Pasabaglari, home of the most striking mushroom formations
(the tourist brochure photos are mostly of this place) but
now quite overrun with vendors of rugs, knickknacks, camel
rides, Fanta, ... . we were given half an hour here, which
was fine, as though one might want to go off and explore at
length, there were just so many touts and shops that one's
thought was mostly to get out of there as soon as possible.

Of course, there was the obligatory visit to a craft store:
this was an actually pretty good one, Kaya Seramik in Avanos,
the famous pottery center on the Red River (source of a
distinctive red clay since Hittite times). Adem had shown
himself to be quite a rug enthusiast so this stop instead
of one to a rug store was slightly puzzling, until we saw
the handiwork here, which was exquisite. After the tour of
the workshop and a demonstration, we were given ample time
in the company store, which had everything from museum-
quality handpainted work (3 to 6 months' attention by an
individual artisan, if the guide-demonstrator was to be
believed) to middle-of-the-road stuff, to mass-produced
everyday ware whose only handcraftsmanship was the word
Avanos scrawled onto the bottom of the pieces. Our group
bought exclusively from the last category.

We returned to Goreme for lunch at Aydede restaurant,
apparently a mecca for tour guides - the place was crowded
with groups, and many travelogues of the region mention it.

Not bad, the appetizers much better than the main course.
Our meze included yogurt, which I didn't taste; hummus,
quite good; lentil-tomato patties, rather spicy and my
favorite dish of the meal; and some diced eggplant-potato
stuff served cool. The main was pottery chicken, overcooked
and not nearly so good as the pottery lamb at the other
place. Semolina pudding, a riff on cream of wheat, for
dessert. More Efes, more cheap red wine.

It is said that one shouldn't leave Cappadocia without
visiting an underground city, so our tour took us to the
second most famous and second largest, Kaymakli. The other,
whose name I'm not sure of (Denizli?), is twice as big and
has two more levels down and is said to be overkill. The
cities were originally constructed in early Christian times
under the threat of various sorts of marauding and rapine;
then they were mysteriously abandoned and forgotten and were
rediscovered just in the last century and half or so - and
more are still being found. Anyhow, imagine a rabbit warren
seven or more layers deep, but with passages big enough for
humans. Imagine the amount of effort went into their making
and the terrible things outside that would cause people to
live in these conditions. I was impressed by the structure
and what it said about the human will to survive under the
most adverse circumstances.

Speaking of adverse, I was getting a little parched by the
time we emerged from Kaymakli, and the Kocabag wine-tasting
room was most welcome as the last stop on our trip. Opened
for tasting:

Emir white, a neutral, pleasant wine, slightly too sweet for
me;

Kapadokya, a blend of the local grapes Bogazere and Okuzgozu
- uncomplicated but also pleasant, and not too expensive at
about L20 a bottle;

Kalecikkavasi, the premium wine - made of Rhone and Bordeaux
varietals, this cost twice as much as the above, but aside
from being plummy while the other was cherryish, and having
a bit more body and perhaps depth, the difference was not
substantial.

I got 2 bottles of Kapadokya, figuring they would come in
handy someday.

We were dropped off at the hotel, from which we went back
into town and dined at the Local restaurant (that's its
name), which had come highly recommended and, importantly,
had a fireplace. We asked to sit by the fire, as the
temperature had begun to plummet.

I ordered Sultan steak, essentially about a half pound
sirloin smothered in sour cream and mushrooms - sort of a
deconstructed stroganoff; lili ordered lamb chops.

A language contretemps - we asked for our food rare, and the
waiter, confused, called over the owner, who translated for
him - the word he used sounded like "ipshmish."

Unfortunately, it all came out medium well, so we had to
call him over again and explain again, after which he
apologetically offered to take our plates back. lili decided
that there was some charm in medium-well lamb chops, so only
my steak went back, shortly replaced by a more satisfactory
one. It was all done in seemingly good humor, and we did I
think leave enough money. But for future reference, any
Turkic speakers out there who could tell me what the real
word for "rare" is - and what "ipshmish" really means?