| The
fantastical stonescapes resemble nothing so much
as Big Rock Candy Mountains. Some are campfire-softened
marshmallows, domed and dipped. Others are taffy
chews, jerked upwards, lollipops, or peppermint
sticks gummed smooth. All have the sugarcoated
hues of the sweet shop: pinks, oranges and yellows
in comforting childhood pastels.
But
Cappadocia (Kapadokya) - Turkey's central region - is
not all innocence and sunshine. It's not, as George McClintock
sang, truly the land "where the handouts grow on
bushes ... and little streams of alcohol come trickling
down the rocks ... Where they hung the jerk that invented
work in the Big Rock Candy Mountains."
Maurauding
hordes have swept across the steppes there (prompting
early inhabitants to scratch secret cities into the earth).
Invaders rerouted rivers and sold natives into slavery.
Christians cowered among the caves, safeguarding saints'
portraits and championing chastity. And now Cappadocians
have seen their incomes evaporate, as tourists shy away
from Middle Eastern tensions.
But
independent travellers are bucking the trend, rediscovering
the warm welcome, handy infrastructure and cheap luxury
of this ravishing region, where a $10-a-day budget remains
feasible ($20-30 should your taste run to five-course
meals, Ottoman architecture by deep, turquoise pools and
brisk massages in the local hamam).
The
wild landscape might just look familiar. Remember the
haunting homes of the Sand People in the first Star Wars
film? George Lucas filmed there in central Anatolia, 180m
southeast of the capital Ankara.
The
epicentre of sci-fi strangeness lies between Urgup, Avanos
and Nevsehir. Three mighty volcanoes created these sinuous
valleys and hills. The first spread delicate tufa stone,
then sculpted by wind and water into ever-evolving domes,
hollows, clefts, cones and dreamscape shapes. Later eruptions
scattered harder lava. As the soft underbelly erodes,
huge boulders teeter upon tufa towers. Many take on an
unmistakably phallic appearance, played up by the saucy
postcards - and the sniggering backpackers who purchase
them.
Such
dry geographical facts displease the locals,
who prefer mythology as colourful as their homeland.
Angels, they insist, perched the stones atop
the stalks. Fairies carry off irksome humans,
those who fight Fate, and lock them inside the
lunar cliffs. (CONTINUED...)
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