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19 February, Saturday - Goreme and on

3/1/2011

2 Comments

 
We are on the road 1 month!

We’ve survived the windstorm, but we are cold, miserable and covered with dust after we’ve finished packing.
We go to a Turkish tea/internet cafè and a few cups of tea and coffee brewed on a stand-up wood oven warms us up. Andrej and Hugo visit the Green House and come back with 2 humongous bags of Turkish delight – each flavor carefully picked out.

We drive along a sightseeing route and discover the most amazing rock formations: church steeples, silos wearing square oversized hats (also called fairy mushrooms); soft, pink tufts huddling together; jagged edged silhouettes – silently carrying the secrets of the ages, observing the present and penisively gazing into the future. I want to have a conversation with them; ask them where are the rock church/churches that Peter wrote to; what did life look like; what did the people do?

We take hundreds of pictures; Hugo and Andrej climb the steep rocks and slide or jump down.

A severe thunder/rain/hailstorm accompanied us all the way as we drive closer to the Syrian border. We have to find a camping spot before it is dark and the choice is next to a farmer’s orange grove. We do not feel too comfortable about the choice, but all we want to do at this point is eat and go to bed. The boys decide to sleep in the car with the weather as bad as it is.

2 Comments
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    Author

    Caren

    "There is something about safari life that makes you forget all your sorrows and feel as if you had drunk half a bottle of champagne - bubbling over with heartfelt gratitude for being alive. One only feels really free when one can go in whatever direction one pleases over the plains, to get to the river at sundown and pitch one's camp, with the knowledge that one can fall asleep
    beneath other trees, with another view before one, the next night." -
     Karen Blixen - Out of Africa, Kenya
    'Of course as I am reading this, I know that you DO get your visas and the container DOES get released, but oh the internal struggle we face even though we should trust (as Hugo does) that God has His hands on all things and is constantly taking care of us.'


    From a Friend:
    :) Crazy to think that we are ALL made of blood, bone and water yet we speak in so many tongues that getting along together becomes a massive task within itself.

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