On Monday morning, we pull ourselves out of bed at 4:30 AM to be greeted by a hundred odd excited faces, all about to embark on a hot air balloon ride. We take off 1000 meters into Cappadocian sky for a glimpse of the rising sun…
And, in the languid air of a morning that has forever, we take our time to watch the sun come to life, and illuminate all that lies below.
I am both edgy and taken in by the next sixty minutes, the view and turn of colour is breathtaking, and yet I cannot remember ever having spent sixty whole minutes of my time to do this before…
Watch the sun come to life in all it’s glory.
The day follows pace, and is preciously slow. On a cycling trip through the village streets we discover graveyards and vast areas of barren landscape,
And in the restaurants in the villages we dig into Saksura, eggplant tossed in a spicy tomato and garlic concoction, Kofte, meatballs served with rice and Falafel with pickled chillis.
Later, as we clamber into the minibus that takes us through the ‘Flintstones-like’ terrain of Cappadocia, I realize that there are some places and people you begun to love, but also know at the very beginning, you will never see again.
There is a certainty with which you come to believe this, even as you continually learn otherwise how surprising life is.
Never say never, but sometimes you know better.
So long then, Cappadocia.