I’m not quick to giggle. Not much of a giggler at all really. But there is something about arriving in Cappadocia that induces random fits of giggling. The sun had already set as we wound around the sharp curves in the road from Nevsehir, so we only caught illuminated glimpses of the odd towers. This added to the sense that we were landing on another planet. Mars, maybe? Not quite red enough for Mars, though. Maybe a planet where the locals are giant anteaters poking around giant anthills.
When the sun rose the next morning and the landscape fully took shape, it only provoked more giggling. The giant anthills were there, pockmarked from years of erosion and being gouged to contain churches and, more recently, hotels and restaurants. Also on the horizon we could see the gold and rose colored strata of mesas and canyons. Perhaps the most giggle worthy features were the decidedly phallic towers of Love Valley and Sword Valley (no subtlety in the naming process here).
So we spent three days, hiking in, over and between these ridiculous and stunning karsts and valleys. The landscape never ceased to amaze. The feeling of being on another planet never subsided. And whenever a particularly, um, evocative fairy chimney (as they’re called locally) came into view we never failed to let out a little giggle.