Rather unusually, I first went to Turkey, by road, through the Eastern provinces; through the border town of Doğubeyazıt; known to all travellers as “Doggie-biscuit”. The target was the lovely Lake Van – Noah’s paddling pool, if you will. The landscape was as stark as could be, huge scree mountains, occasionally topped with Crusader castles and enlivened by the brilliance of groups of women off to market in multi-coloured costumes and local jewellery. The food was basic, based on double loaves of bread, coarse sausages and fruit but the people were kind and I remember much music around campfires.
We found the countryside grew lusher as we travelled westwards, nowhere more so than Cappadocia. When we arrived, near the end of October, autumn was well in force and the leaves of the bush vines and apricot trees were every bit as exciting and varied in their flaming colours as New England in fall. Wine has been produced in the region since forever and an inky glass of Buzbağ was just the thing before dinner after a day’s exploration of the troglodyte dwellings and huge chalk phalluses of the area.
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