Kapadokya II

I can’t stop taking photos of tourists taking photos of each other.

I don’t even know why I do it. Certainly not because I find them appalling or anything like that. (Just 45 seconds later somebody else took a similar photo of me.)

Oh wait. I just remembered why I take these: (A very deep and unspoken desire to imitate) Martin Parr.

… I feel like crying after that statement. Some things should be kept private.

I did the balloon.

Mariliza, if you’re reading this: The person standing next to me in the balloon was a fantastic Greek woman who (i) was wearing an impeccable bright yellow trenchcoat, huge shades, and hair sprayed to infinity, and (ii) had the insane ability to talk non-stop from 5:30 am to 8:30 am. (Except when we got as high as 1,000 meters. Everyone was a little too terrified to speak at that moment). (And after the balloon,  I saw her getting breakfast in the hotel. She was singing and dancing to herself with the plate in her hand.) NOT THAT I AM DRAWING ANY PARALLELS HERE but every time she went “oreos!” and “ella mou!”, I wanted to grab the woman, stare right into her eyes and say “Mariliza. I know you’re there. I know you have possessed this woman and we are doing this together right now. I know it, man. No one talks that fast at 5:30″.  Except I couldn’t. No grabbing allowed in the balloon. The balloon pilot/master/blower? told us that there have been incidents of vomiting, though- which should be a riot for the ones on the ground.

Mount Erciyes in the distance. And my father’s hometown a little ahead. Let’s wave.

By the way, some of these “fairy chimneys” are still being used as homes and such. We were happy to be welcomed to one.