When I was asked by some Chinese travelers why I was writing this blog, I gave the shortest possible answer I could muster in my limited mandarin.  Mainly because I didn't have the vocabulary to continue the conversation in more philosophical terms!

给自己纪念, 给别人参考

Roughly translated, it means "it serves to facilitate memories for me, and as a reference to others".  Except of course it sounds much more elegant and succint in mandarin.  Everything does.

I realised that I haven't delivered on the "reference" bit, not least from the way the blog is organised - chronologically with no search function or categories.  A reader would have to scroll through NINE pages to get to the very first post!  Heck, I had lost track of the sheer volume of content that has been uploaded over the past few months.

​I've thus spent a rainy evening in Berlin re-organising everything into country-sections, clickable from the Navigation Bar at the very top.  For now, it's split into China, Tibet, Central Asia, Iran, Egypt, Jordan, Lebanon and Turkey.  Clicking on the country button brings up a summary page of relevant blogs, with clickable links.  Also by clicking on the "more" button, the section on Visas and Border Crossings pops up.

​I hope this will be helpful to future visitors.  Let me know if anyone has any ideas on how to make the navigation even more user friendly.  Do however bear in mind that my blogging service, Weebly, does have its limitations in website design and the templates they provide.

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T plus 152 - Istanbul

Note:  I was supposed to post this blog on 10th October but the Ankara bombings happened and I decided to do a piece on that first (see earlier posting).  In this blog, I'll focus on the happier memories I've had in Turkey, which remains a fantastic place to visit, given the right precautions in view of the uncertainty the nation presently faces.

I've spent just over a month travelling through Turkey, on the last leg of my trip across the Asian continent.  In my time in the country, I've been fortunate to experience the blockbuster sights of Istanbul, Ephesus and Cappadocia which are undoubtedly world-class destinations.  However, it's been the less-traveled trail across the Kurdish heartland of southeast Turkey which has given my trip an even more meaningful dimension.

The vast majority of tourists in Turkey try to pack the aforementioned blockbusters into a 7-10 day itinerary.  And they emerge from their holiday satisfied that they've seen the best the country has to offer.  With all due respect, they're mistaken, and there's much more to Turkey than Islamic monuments, ancient roman ruins and hot air balloons.  In direct contrast to the typical tourist hotspots, the more secluded regions of Anatolia offer visitors an unsanitised glimpse into true Turkish culture and hospitality.  Minus the artificial veneer of tourist traps which are more plasticky than the cards you use to pay for them.

Even after experiencing the iconic sights of Istanbul and the Aegean Coast, I am no less impressed by Turkey's more rural regions.  Worthy examples include the Sumela Monastery near Trabzon which bursts with colour and character; the mystic Mount Nemrut with its headless statues; the religious symbolism of the gardens in Sanliurfa; and of course the idyllic, honey-hued town of Mardin.  And that's not all!  I wish I had more time to visit the whirling dervish capital of Konya, the mysteriously abandoned ancient Armenian city of Ani, and the biblical Mount Ararat, supposedly the resting place of Noah's Ark.

​The best way to explore the outer realms of Turkey is by car.  I wasted a lot of time on public transport, shuttling between bus terminals and transport hubs.  In hindsight, I could have seen twice as much in half the time if I had rented a car for two weeks.  Of course, the economics work out more favourably with more travel companions.  Some of my most memorable experiences came from roadtrips in central Anatolia and venturing inland from the Aegean coast with visiting friends.  Although the distances are pretty massive, the freedom of having your own transportation, and the possibilities it opens up, more than compensates for the long hours behind the wheel.

​Despite Turkey's present-day woes, I'm long-term optimistic about this country.  One only has to witness the extent of commercial activity here to conclude that domestic consumer demand - the cornerstone of any maturing economy - is stronger than ever before.  In his book The Next 100 Years, George Friedman predicts that Turkey will be a Top Ten economy by 2020, and regain levels of influence not seen since the heights of the Ottoman Empire a few centuries ago.  Perhaps recent setbacks will delay Turkey's accession into the ranks of global powers.  But the nation's fundamentals - population strength, strategic location, and its growing role as a key US and NATO ally in containing an increasingly belligerent Russia - will continue to propel the nation forward.  

​Turkey's history throughout its ancient, medieval and modern eras is as turbulent as it is triumphal.  Its people are accustomed to levels of adversity which may be deemed unreasonable by lesser nations.  They have a remarkable track record of exceeding prevailing expectations - just look at how far the nation has come compared to Middle East countries which face similar challenges.  It is this tenacity that I'm betting on.  To wager otherwise would be going against the grain of history, and the formidable momentum which Turkey has built for itself.

​Some highlights from my travels in Turkey:​

From Left to Right then Top to Bottom:  Frescoes, Sumela Monastery; Mount Nemrut; Rizvaniye Mosque, Sanliurfa; Stone houses, Mardin; Balloons, Cappadocia; Library of Celsus, Ephesus; multi-faced friezes, Afrodisias; New Mosque, Istanbul.
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The site of one of the bomb blasts in Ankara (Turkey's capital) being cordoned off.  Words cannot describe how horrifying it must have been.  Photo from The Guardian, UK.
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I am writing this blog in the immediate aftermath of the Ankara bombings where nearly 100 people lost their lives to a pair of suicide bombers on 10th October.  They were attending a rally, organised by civil society groups, held to call for peace amidst escalating tensions between the Government and the nation’s Kurdish population.  In what is described as the worst terror attack in the nation’s modern history, two bombs, spiked with ball bearings ripped through the crowds, leaving behind a nation torn between grief and disbelief.  

The timing of this tragedy could not be worse as it comes at a critical period where the nation is grappling with already explosive ethnic fissures.  It follows the abrupt end (in July) of a two-year ceasefire between the Government and PKK, a separatist group fighting for Kurdish independence.  In recent months, the Government has initiated a series of heavy-handed crackdowns in Kurdish populated areas in the Southeast of the country, alongside aerial bombardments of PKK positions across the border in northern Iraq.  The Government’s actions in Kurdish-majority areas has drawn widespread condemnation amongst the Kurdish community, worsening the feeling of estrangement which they have harboured since the formation of modern Turkey 80 years ago.

Investigations into the Ankara bombings are not yet conclusive, but they point towards the involvement of ISIS, a terrorist organisation which PKK is also fighting against.  It was the ISIS-led bombings in the Kurdish-populated Turkish town of Suruc in July which sparked the renewed conflict between the Government and PKK – the latter accused the former of not doing enough to combat ISIS and killed two policemen in retaliation for the (mostly) Kurdish lives lost in Suruc.  

Instead of bringing the nation closer together in mourning, the bombings have resulted in even further polarisation within the country.  Many of the rally’s supporters blame the Government for failing to protect its own citizens at a peaceful gathering.  The Government is defending its security policies, and is accusing its detractors of destabilising the country.  Both sides claim that the other is trying to spark a civil war.  

All this is happening two weeks before the 1st November snap election, called after the general election in June resulted in a hung parliament, with the 13-year-incumbent ruling party, AKP unable to form a coalition with majority support.  Most polls predict that the outcome of the November elections will not be significantly different to the June result, so it does not appear that the present political gridlock will resolve itself anytime soon.  This has major implications for Turkey’s international standing, and the (increasingly unlikely) amicable resolution of its long-standing domestic issues.

I wrote earlier about Turkey’s “problem” with its 15-20 million population of Kurds, which form a sizable community in the country.  But to fully understand why the Kurds continue to feel alienated in their own country, we need to look more closely at the history of modern Turkey.

After the fall of the Ottoman Empire post-WW1 (having sided with Germany), the Allied powers went about dissecting its former territories, claiming the choicest chunks for themselves.  In the secretly negotiated 1918 Sykes-Picot Agreement, Britain would get Palestine, Jordan and Iraq; the French would gain Syria and Lebanon and Russia would receive parts of Eastern Anatolia and crucially, Istanbul.  Although Russia would later walk away from treaty, a direct consequence of the Bolshevik revolution, the British-French led 1920 Treaty of Sevres was no kinder to the Turks who were left with the scraps that fell off the negotiating table.  

Enter war hero Mustafa Kemal, who organised the Turkish resistance, fought a four year War of Independence and ultimately succeeded in strong-arming the occupying nations into signing the 1923 Treaty of Lausanne, which cemented the borders of modern-day Turkey.  He went on, as President, to introduce a series of drastic reforms which revolved around the secularisation and modernisation of the new republic’s society and economy.  Of paramount importance was the creation of a Turkish national identity which would galvanise its people and erase the humiliations brought about by the failures of their Ottoman antecedents.  Mustafa Kemal was bestowed the title of “Attaturk” (Father Turk) for his nation-building efforts, and remains a greatly revered figure amongst Turks today.

Unfortunately for the Kurds, there was no room for the recognition of ethnic diversity in Mustafa Kemal’s grand plan.  Kurdish culture, their language and even their traditional attire and music were gradually outlawed in the decades that followed.  Understandably, the Kurds felt profoundly aggrieved, particularly as they had fought and died alongside the Turks in the War of Independence.  They believed, and were motivated by, the promise of a place in the sun for Kurdish ideals on Turkish soil.   To have this dream taken away and, in their eyes, to be treated like lesser beings for 80 years post-independence is not only unjust but undemocratic in light of the sacrifices they have made.

To be fair to the Government, efforts were made in the last 20 years to allow increased expression of Kurdish identity, and reconciliatory language heavily infused with the word “brothers” has been employed to claw back Kurdish support.  It will undoubtedly take a lot more effort, and even more time.  Most Kurds still remember the time when their parents had to bury Kurdish books and music tapes in the garden to avoid confiscation by the police in frequently conducted door-to-door raids.  They remember that most of the Southeast was under martial law up to the late 90’s.  The heavy military presence in some Kurdish towns today, and the viral spread of Youtube videos such as the one depicting the lifeless body of a Kurdish protester being dragged through the streets by a length of rope attached to the back of a military vehicle, after being shot 28 times, remind the Kurds of those darker days.

What worries me is the sheer number of Kurds in Turkey.  If we take the upper end of the 15-20 million estimate of their numbers in Turkey, they comprise a quarter of the nation’s population.  Some say that they may even outnumber the “real” Turks – those who can trace their roots to Turkic i.e. Central Asian ancestors; the rest of the population is a made up of a mix of immigrants from other parts of Europe.  My fear is that if enough old wounds are re-opened, and 20 million Kurds decide to take to the streets, the country could very well collapse on itself.

The Government’s handling of the Ankara bombings, and their stance towards a grieving Kurdish community which feels increasingly bereft of options, will be major event-triggers in the short term.  The outcome of the snap election in two weeks, and the AKP’s willingness to compromise should things not go their way, will have longer term consequences.  What is clear is that the future of the country hangs in the balance.  And it is poised very delicately at the moment.
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Suleymaniye Mosque, the largest mosque in Istanbul, completed in 1557.
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View of (new) European Istanbul from the elevated position of Suleymaniye Mosque.
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The storied harem at Topkapi Palace.  Luxurious lodging for the Sultan and his concubines.
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The Blue Mosque with its graceful exterior and exquisitely ornate interior.  Commissioned by the 19-year old Ottoman Sultan Ahmet I in 1609 and completed seven years later.  The Blue Mosque caused quite a scandal when it was built with six minarets - the holiest mosque in the world, the Haram Mosque in Mecca also had six minarets.  Eventually the problem was solved when the Sultan personally financed the addition of a seventh minaret for the mosque in Mecca.
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Interior of Aya Sofea.  You can see how the Islamic motifs overlap with Christian symbols in the last pic.  Unfortunately, half of the interior is occupied by scaffolding due to restoration work.  Wide-angle photography inside is thus a little challenging.
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Superbly preserved Byzantine mosaics in the Aya Sofea.  The top pic shows Emperor Constantine and Empress Zoe making contributions to Jesus Chirst.  The bottom pic shows Emperors Justinian (left) and Constantine (right) presenting models of the Aya Sofea and Constantinople to the Virgin Mary who is cradling Christ.
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The Basilica Cistern (first three pics) and the Valens Aqueduct (last pic), representing the pinnacle of Roman engineering over a thousand years ago.
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​​From Top:  Blue Mosque, Aya Sofea, Topkapi Palace, and a panorama of both the Aya Sofea (left) and the Blue Mosque (right).

New Mosque (foreground) and Suleymaniye Mosque (background) at night.
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Ahmet Cesmesi (Fountain of Ahmad III) in the great square in front of the Imperial Gate of Topkapi Palace.​

Note:  Apologies if the night shots above are ever so slightly blurry.  All taken without a tripod - I keep forgetting to bring it out!
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I posted this earlier, but this shot of the Galata Tower is still my favourite.

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I was doing some research for my blog on Istanbul and came across some interesting figures from Mastercard, which tracks international travel and spending.  Thought I'd share it here.

With the Ringgit at new lows, the political scene in shambles and the haze choking away any remaining optimism, it's difficult to be chipper about Malaysian prospects right now.  But guess what, maybe we Malaysians are being too hard on ourselves.  The international travel community seems to think we're doing just fine.

According to Mastercard, which has some pretty authoritative figures, Kuala Lumpur is the world's eighth most popular destination.  Yup, eighth, not eightieth - that's our football team.  Actually no, our football team is now 171st in the world.  Jesus.

I digress.  So yeah, KL is just behind New York and ahead of supposedly superior travel destinations such as Hong Kong, Tokyo, Barcelona, Shanghai and just about any major "more famous" city Malaysians can think of.  And it's no fluke either.  Kuala Lumpur has consistently ranked in the Global Top Ten for the past several years, and the year-on-year growth rates are amongst the best within the Top Ten, so it's not like we're dropping out anytime soon.

Hmm, yes, the smarty pants in you is probably wondering if all this is due to Air Asia turning KL into a transit hub for Southeast Asian air travel.  Well, I'm sure that's a contributing factor; BUT these figures are actually for OVERNIGHT arrivals, meaning visitors have to spend at least one night in the city, not just a two-hour transit.  And the spending patterns support this too - KL also ranks 8th in the world in terms of money spent per tourist.  We rank higher than Tokyo, Madrid, Rome etc in this crucial area.

Unbelievable right?  Well read the Mastercard report here and convince yourself.  Yeah, it drew a few "this can't be's" and "huh, really's" from me too.  But the take away message is this:  Malaysia is a really nice place to be in.  Even if sometimes we don't think so ourselves.

Relax lah.  Cuti cuti Malaysia sikit.

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Note:  Although these are "2015" figures, I think what Mastercard actually means is 2015 rankings based on 2014 figures.  So yes, the impact of the haze and other misfortunes in 2015 haven't quite taken effect, but I don't think the overall rankings will be affected that much even if they were factored in.

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The Galata Tower which dominates the Bosphorus coastline on the European side of Istanbul.

​It's been raining for the past couple of days, so not too many photo-taking opportunities.
But I thought I'd share this one first because it's one of my favourites.
​I think it's going up on my bedroom wall!

1/15 shutter speed, F5.6, ISO 3200(!), 31mm focal length.  
​Maximum respect for Fujifilm XT1's low light capabilities.

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For reference, this is the shot which most people walk away with of the Galata Tower.
Nice, but a little boring no?
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Here's an attempt to liven it up a bit.  Using the wonders of post-processing.

Can you tell what has been done?

1. 25% opacity soft light yellow layer to give everything a golden cast
2. Graduated ND filter simulation on the top fifth of the frame to counterbalance the yellow filter - so the sky doesn't look yellow.
3.  50% opacity graduated red layer on the bottom fifth of the frame to simulate red-ish reflections from the tower.

Ok, usually I don't go to so much trouble to photoshop something.  And I always declare it when I go beyond the usual minor tweaks, coz I want to keep it as "real" as possible.  But it's raining outside, and I'm bored.  Haha.
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New Mosque (Yeni Camii), Istanbul at sunset.  An epic view to top-off an epic trip.
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T plus 140 - Istanbul

I'm finally at the end of my journey - 140 days after starting out from Shanghai at the other end of the Asian continent.  I'll work out the exact distances over the next couple of days and publish something more substantial, but I roughly estimate that I've traveled over 20,000km over road and rail in maybe a hundred buses/trains/shared taxis.  I've stayed in over 50 different hotels/hostels/camp sites.  And my camera counter tells me that I've taken more than 12,000 photographs.

I admit that I am a little disappointed that I didn't manage to get into Iraq and was rejected outright by the-country-which-shall-not-be-named, and in the end I decided not to risk going to Syria.  But as I recollect the experiences I've had over the past few months, I realise that the hits far outnumber the misses.  And just like in life, all the gains in the world don't mean anything unless you've lost a little in the process.  I feel profoundly fortunate to have mingled and munched my way through 11 countries, enlightened by every different person and plate I've encountered.  

I look back at the period of indecision earlier this year before committing to this trip and I wonder what made me think so hard for so long.  In retrospect it should have been the easiest decision I've ever had to make.  They say the best possible investment of time and money is on education, and that's exactly what this trip represents for me.  The insights and memories I have gained from this experience will always serve as cherished references to the rare occasion I chose life over work.  Going forward, I believe it will give me better perspective on arriving at a more meaningful balance between the two.

This blog has added a whole new dimension to my travels.  It gave me purpose, direction and discipline throughout the trip.  It provided an avenue for me to share my writings and photography with my friends.  It compelled me to do an inordinate amount of background reading and fact-checking.  And I hope it will serve as a source of inspiration for others who are planning trips of their own.  In time, perhaps it will inspire me to embark on another adventure to a different part of the world!
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I'll be hanging out in Istanbul for the next week or so.  This is a beautiful place to reflect on the journey I've been on, and to process what I've learnt along the way.  I haven't stopped taking photos though, and will be posting a long-overdue blog on Istanbul soon.
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The many-faced friezes from the Portico of Tiberius at Afrodisias.

What really floored me was how "real" the faces-in-stone looked.  In fact, it is so real that the face-detection software in my camera started picking up and isolating the faces you see here.  A truly poignant moment of technology bridging the 2000-year gap between 1st century art and 21st century digital imagery.
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T plus 136 - Ephesus, Afrodisias and Pamukkale, Aegean Coast, Western Turkey

​This is the last stop of my tour of ancient cities all over Asia and the Middle East.  And it was a fitting finale.  The Graeco-Roman ruins at Ephesus and Afrodisias are amongst the grandest and best-preserved in the world.  Strolling down the marble-paved, monument-lined streets of these sites evokes both inspiration and imagination.  There are precious few places which provide such complete insight into a lost civilisation of a bygone era.  These two world-class sites are truly must-see's on any Turkey itinerary and must-do's on any bucket list.

Ephesus is, by far, the more well-known attraction.  It is also the more illustrious, historically speaking.  One of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, the Temple of Artemis was built here in the 5th century BC (rebuilt in 3rd century BC) and was supposedly the largest structure of its era.  Sadly, only one out of its 127 columns remain standing today.  The city of Ephesus reached its zenith during the Roman and Byzantine eras from the 1st to 6th century where it was the most important city in Asia Minor, second only to Constantinople (Istanbul today).  Most of the ruins we see today are from this period, and a number of them pay tribute to Roman Emperors Trajan and Hadrian.

Interestingly, Ephesus is also significant from a biblical perspective.  It is said that St. Paul lived here in the 1st century, followed by St. John, who wrote his gospel in the city.  Legend has it that the Virgin Mary spent the last years of her life here, under the care of St. John.  With its association to two apostles and Christ's mother, the city remains an important pilgrimage site for Christians.  Ephesus fell into decline after its harbour silted up in the 6th century.  Following a sacking by the Arabs in the 7th century, the city was largely abandoned until its rediscovery in the 1800's.  Excavations have been ongoing for a century and yet only 15% of the city has been unearthed.  Today, Ephesus sits 5km inland from the coast and is, unfortunately (for photographers), a major destination for tour-bus tourists and the cruise ship crowds.

Afrodisias, on the other hand, is much more secluded.  It sits 100km inland, a relatively far-away two-hour drive from the tourist hotspots and is often left off the itinerary of all but the most hardcore of tour agencies.  I was there at about 9am, and only spotted two tour buses vs the 20 at Ephesus at any time of the day.  The ruins at Afrodisias are also more spread-out, so the crowds disperse fairly quickly.  And although the history of Afrodisias is nowhere as glorious as Ephesus', I actually prefer this site in some ways.  Its ruins are equally well-preserved, although lacking the one-or-two "blockbuster" monuments at Ephesus.  The quieter atmosphere allows for a more immersive experience, and it leaves a much cleaner impression, sans the selfie-stick adulteration of the Ephesus excursion.

The name of the city was derived from the Greek goddess of love Aphrodite - Venus to the Romans.  A magnificent temple/sanctuary was built in her name in the 2nd century, under the rule of Emperor Hadrian.  The site also boasts a spectacularly preserved 270m long, 30,000-seat stadium, considered to be the largest and best preserved Roman stadium in the world.  The city owes its state of preservation, and subsequent re-discovery, to a pair of earthquakes.  In the 7th century, the city was destroyed by an earthquake and never subsequently repaired, it slowly sank into the ground.  Since then, small settlements have been built over and around the site, gradually becoming the town of Geyre over the years.  In the 1950's, another earthquake forced the town's residents to relocate, paving the way for a massive excavation effort in which the ruins we see today were unearthed, beautifully preserved from being buried for 1,500 years.

Here are some photos from my walkabouts:

The majestic Library of Celsus at Ephesus, built in 125 AD.  It was once the third largest library in the Roman Empire, after the libraries at Alexandria and Pergamum.  

If you look carefully, you'll notice that the columns on the top floor are significantly thinner than the columns on the ground floor.  This was a deliberate effort to exaggerate the building's size by the distortion of visual perspective - the thinner columns look further away, therefore the building looks taller!  How ingenious.
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The Curetes Way at Ephesus.  I had to wait half an hour for that 2 second gap in the crowds.  It's crawling with tourists most of the time.

This is the main thoroughfare of the city.  It is lined with monumental structures, terraced houses and you can just about see the Library of Celsus at the far end.
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Trajan's fountain.  A colossal statue of Emperor Trajan once stood here.  Today, only his foot, and the globe he was standing on, remain.  Centre of the frame, slightly to the right-hand-side.
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Temple of Hadrian (and close-up of its central arch).  One of my favourite structures at Ephesus for the intricacy of its stonework.  Look at the closeup for the incredible craftsmanship.  The slender central arch is still held together today by its central keystone (the one with the lady's face) - no mortar or reinforcements needed after 2,000 years.
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Carving of Hermes at the Sacred Street, Upper Ephesus.  See if you can spot his winged sandals!
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Men's public latrines, off the Curetes Way.  Probably one of the earliest surviving examples of the "throne toilet" which has hardly changed in design to this day.  Water would flow in the little drain by one's feet for washing purposes.  Apparently having a poo in this public place was something that reflected well on one's social status.  So much so that one could purchase a "seat" here, for one's exclusive use.  In the winter months, slaves would be dispatched here ahead of time to warm the cold marble for their bosses.  

A large sponge-on-a-stick would be used to clean one's bottom after the deed.  This communal brush would then be passed around.  It is said that the phrase "grabbing the wrong end of the stick" originated from the occasional fumble which occurred in these public toilets!
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The Great Theatre of Ephesus, an enormous arena which sat 25,000; constructed in the 1st century.
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 Wonderfully preserved houses which once sat on the terraces of Ephesus.  A permanent covering has been built over them for added protection from the elements.  See how ornate the floor mosaics and wall paintings are.  Even more beautiful decorations e.g. friezes have been removed and placed in the Ephesus Museum (see later).
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Marble friezes from the city of Ephesus, housed in the Ephesus Archaeological Museum.
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The famed multi-breasted statue of Artemis from the Temple of Artemis, 1st century AD.
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Small and intricate friezes, made of ivory, from Ephesus' terraced houses.
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Perfectly preserved 7,000 seat auditorium in Afrodisias.  Apparently you can still see the labels on some of its seats.  I didn't go looking for them though.
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The Tetrapylon, a moumental gateway leading to the Temple of Aphrodite in Afrodisias.
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Temple of Aphrodite, Afrodisias.
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The 270m-long, 30,000 seat Stadium at Afrodisias.  One of the largest and best-preserved stadiums of its kind in the world.
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The unusual black and white marble tiles of the Hadrianic Baths at Afrodisias.  It's stunning to see how well they've been preserved (with restoration effort of course).​
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The white calcite (calcium carbonate) cliffs and pools of Pamukkale.

This was supposed to be arrestingly beautiful.  But to be honest, one has to manage expectations now that the waters which once flowed into Pamukkale's multi-leveled natural pools seem to have dried up.  If you look intently at the 2nd and 3rd pics, you can just about imagine (with a lot of effort) how pretty it must have been back in the day.  The last pic is of one of the few remaining pools of water, but it doesn't quite have the multi-level-cascade effect.  Yet, thousands of tourists throng this site every day, as can be seen from the line of people in the 3rd pic.
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That being said, Pamukkale does boast some impressive ruins on top of the hill.  The Hierapolis here reached its peak in the 2nd and 3rd centuries and boasted not one but two enormous theatres, Roman baths, temples and fountains.  Up to 100,000 people once lived in this pretty city-on-a-hill.

I was more amused by how I could photoshop a McDonalds sign onto one of its arches.  I'm lovin' it.  Haha.

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El Nazar Church.  Yes, they've hollowed out a "fairy chimney" and converted it into a church replete with frescoes inside.

T plus 131 - Cappadocia, Turkey

Let's get one thing out of the way.  Cappadocia is everything they say it is and more.  There is enough here to keep one occupied for a week, but unfortunately I only had two days, so everything got a bit compressed.  I did, however, have a car, so that was a major convenience factor - highly recommended for anyone short on time in this place.

It's probably easiest to introduce Cappadocia with photos, because it's impossible to do justice to the surreal scenes here with mere words.  Short note on how the cone-like "fairy chimneys" i.e. unique rock formations were formed:  Volcanic activity millions of years ago deposited layers of ash (of varying hardness and density) all over the region here.  The weathering effects of wind and water over the next million-over years chiseled away at the softer layers, leaving behind the "columns" which we see today.

Some photos from my walkabouts and drive-abouts:

Interior of the El Nazar "cave church" in the first pic.  Churches like these are scattered all over Goreme and the small towns in the Cappadocia region.  It's truly delightful to discover one hidden gem after another while taking a slow drive on a lazy afternoon.

Views of Pigeon Valley and its surroundings from Uchisar Castle (on top of the hill of the last pic).  
See how caves are carved directly into the rock face?

Rock formations in the little valley town of Goreme in the late afternoon.

The err... rock formations of Zelve.  Talk about phallic symbols.

The famous "mushrooms" of Urgup.

The stunningly scenic Ihlara Valley (top pic) and its collection of stone houses and Byzantine cave churches and monasteries.  The last three pics show the interior of the Ala Church, and the ancient apparatus of Bezirhane.  I believe the "corkscrew" like device is a gigantic press - perhaps used to extract oil from seeds.  The bottom pic is of an enormous mill, used to grind grain.  The millstone is the big "disc" of stone on the left.

The pretty riverside town of Avanos and its feathered residents.

The underground city of Mazi and its many spooky chambers.

Goreme Village at Sunset, with Uchisar Village lit up in the background.

And now for the pretty balloon pictures.  No further explanation required.  Enjoy!

Getting ready for take-off.  5.30am.

Floating off into the sunrise...

At first there was one...

Then there were many...

Then there were millions.

Here are a few arty-balloon-silhouette against the sun photos.  I like the last two very much.

A safe and soft touchdown.  Well done Mr. Pilot.

The little honey-hued town of Mardin in Southeast Turkey.

T plus 128 - Mardin, Southeast Turkey

This place gives me goosebumps.  That's how picture-perfect it is.  After speeding through half a dozen characterless concrete cities, discovering Mardin was like stepping into place forgotten by time.  This little enclave of serenity has been largely spared by the heavy hand of development and the destructive demands of progress.  Here, structures and streets of stone trickle down the mountainside, forming a labyrinth of saffron-coloured passages bursting with architectural delights.

The best way to explore Mardin is to throw out the map and simply allow yourself to get lost.  In my own wanderings I came across centuries-old bazaars where leather-aproned men hunch over age-old crafts.  In one corner, vibrant braids of string hang off the walls of workshops repairing donkey saddles.  On the other end, glistening animal entrails swing gently on large hooks; I shudder slightly at the sight of a butcher inflating lung after lung by blowing directly into the (attached) trachea.  Further down, sparks shower the street in front of a knife-sharpening shop.  As I walk past, the whirr of its grindstone gives way to the shriek of buzz saws from a shoplot-factory churning out wooden clogs. 

The streets here are too cramped for cars, so logistics are still carried out by delivery boys on donkeys (hence the donkey-saddle-repair-shops).  They navigate undulating, meandering cobblestone pathways, shuttling goods between houses of stone stacked neatly on parallel terraces cut into the mountainside.  I notice that every house has its own place in the sun, so-to-speak.  In this community of very polite people, no one builds above his neighbour behind him; and thus no views are blocked and no one lives in another's shadow.  This politeness is extended to visitors too, and one can't help but return the kindly nods of mustachioed men as you walk by them and their backgammon boards.

Mardin is a paradise of sorts for photographers.  Its narrow, winding streets are flanked by rock walls of varying heights, merged by the occasional archway.  A delicate asymmetry of light and shadow results.  In criss-crossing the town, you chance upon little plazas bathed in sunlight and soaring minarets piercing the sky-in-between-buildings.  The point is you never know what's around the next corner.  Small children dart about, and the alleyways echo with their laughter and the clatter of their feet.  And if you look up, you'll usually spot a couple of them looking intently at you from their perch on tiny verandas.  If you're quick and skilled enough, you can get that elusive "spontaneous shot", which unfortunately eluded me this time.

History-wise, this place is like an open museum.  Mardin was a more-or-less a compulsory stop on the Mesopotamian leg of the Silk Road - you can still see functioning caravanserais on the main thoroughfares.  The influences of various empires which fought over Mardin for its strategic location live on through the wealth of architecture they left behind.  Some are more obvious than others, but you can still see Assyrian and Byzantine churches, Persian-Zoroastrian fire temples (subsequently built-over for other purposes), Turkic mosques and medressas, Arabic stone facades and even Roman irrigation systems in Mardin and its surroundings.  The prevailing architecture today is overwhelmingly Islamic - the Arabs had the last laugh here.

Some photos from my walkabouts:

If you get up really early i.e. before the town wakes up, you get to see the sun gradually light up the narrow alleys.

 A shopkeeper washing the street outside his shop before starting business.

Donkey:  the preferred mode of transportation in Mardin.

Ulu Camii (Mosque) from the outside at sunrise.  
If you sit right here, under this arch, you can see the sun slide down the centuries-old Islamic text carved on the wall.

Ulu Cammi from inside.  It's the oldest mosque in Mardin, built in the 12th century by the Artukid Turks.

Scenes from Mardin's many rambling passageways.  Ok, I did get one photo with kids.

The minaret of Sehidiye Mosque in the late afternoon.  The rather splendid view is of the Mesopotamian plains below.

Mardin's ex-Post Office, now turned into a university and cafe.  Gotta say this must be the prettiest ex-post office I've seen.

Sultan Isa Medressa, and Mardin's famous castle in the background.  The castle, situated on top of a hill, is so well protected that it's said that even Timur the Great had to give up on his siege here.

Former mansion/pavilion converted into a school.  What a pity about the graffiti huh.  I googled "iBocan" and apparently it's the name of a Turkish singer.  Someone must really like him.

Closeup of the stonework which you see all over the place in Mardin.  This particular one is from the entrance portal to Mardin's museum (which is very very well done and only costs 2 Lira i.e. USD0.66 to enter).

Side note:  I think the white balance on my camera is off on this shot.  This looks slightly green to me.  
Someone who isn't colour blind please confirm.

The Turkic Kasimiye Medressa at sunset.

Mardin at Midnight.  

Oh, I think I was unbelievably fortunate and caught a shooting star.  See right side of the frame, right next to the minaret.

This photo doesn't really belong anywhere.  I snapped it while walking from Mardin town centre to Kasimiye Medressa.  It's of grazing sheep against the backdrop of the Mesopotamian valley in the late afternoon sun.  It's one of my favourite photos of this trip, actually.  

Wondering if I should photoshop out the telecoms tower on the right...