Sometime around October 12, 2010 and we find ourselves living in a cave in Goreme, Turkey. It is cool and lightly misting. Our days of beach and sunshine appear to be over. We are inland on the turkish steppes about at about 4,000 feet of elevation. People have been living in caves here (Capadoccia region) for thousands of years. Now it seems that tourists want to get into the act. The landscape is right out Tolkien and a hot air balloon passed about fifty feet from our cave window this morning.
The rented car is a blessing. If for nothing else, we are not losing half our belongings transferring from one bus to another. We spent a night in Konya which is the final resting place of Rumi. Very moslem town. No alcohol sold, women covering their heads at all times, and some gorgeous mosques.
I have started reading treasure island to the kids. We are enjoying it. The twins write in their diary almost every day and complain about multiplication tables at the same rate. We all miss the clovis. Ben misses food that he does not hate. Clare ate a fish eyeball.
Istanbul has 20 million people. That should be a trip. The evening call to prayer is echoing through the valley.
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